University of Nebraska-Lincoln

First Congregational Church, Los Angeles, January 12-16, 2001

"Despite the nay-sayers, the organ is very much alive and we're going to keep it that way." With that hopeful remark, Fred Swann opened the third annual Organ Alive! conference at First Congregational Church of Los Angeles. Swann started this conference when he assumed the position of organist at the church three years ago, in response to a request from the church leaders for more prominence for the organ. The previous year's conference in January 2000 had been a retrospective of the organ in the 20th century. This year focused on the future of the organ and young emerging talents who will help keep the organ profession vital, hence the subtitle, "The Organ in the 21st century--Quo vadis?"

First Congregational Church of Los Angeles, founded in 1867, is the oldest Protestant church in continuous service in Los Angeles. It is built in gothic style of reinforced concrete, with a square tower rising to a height of 157 feet. The church is a large multi-storied facility--157,000 square feet--with fellowship

/dining hall, chapel, meeting rooms, parlors, and lovely courtyards, providing a very pleasant atmosphere and ample space for the conference events. Thanks to Swann's planning and music administrator Kathie Freeman's organizational wizardry, the conference was well-planned and organized. An army of volunteers from the church gave up their weekend to serve as ushers, set tables, provide refreshments, drive the shuttle bus, give directions, and see that visitors were comfortable. 175 people from 21 states and three  foreign countries were registered for the conference (the original registration limit was 120, they increased it to 175 and still had to turn 63 people away).

After formally opening the conference, Fred Swann asked everyone to stand and launched into a "name that tune" game. He played very brief excerpts from organ literature, starting with the opening of the Bach D-minor Toccata and getting progressively more difficult. When you couldn't identify one, you had to sit down. There were prizes for the winners--great fun for all. The organ in Shatto chapel--34 stops, including seven digital voices installed by Robert Walker--proved able to suggest the characteristic sounds to help us identify the pieces from hearing only a few notes.

The Great Organs

"Like Zephyrus, Eurus, Boreas and Notus, the four winds of classical antiquity, the quartet of organs at historic First Congregational Church are awesome to contemplate, even when calm in the stillness of their vaulted home. From the gossamer evanescence of their lightest stops to the redwood-strength and majesty of their full fury unleashed, they are positively mind-altering in power and heart-stopping in passion." (--Peter Rutenberg, in the program notes for Double Organ and Chorus concert)

While some readers might be put off by the poetic effusion of Rutenberg's description, the great organs at First Congregational are magnificent indeed. Few places in the world can boast of the musical resources available in these organs. The color, contrast, and spatial distribution of the pipes make the sanctuary a very exciting place to hear organ music.

The original 58-rank organ was built in 1932 by Ernest M. Skinner, with William H. Barnes serving as consultant. The organ was greatly enlarged in 1969, but the Skinner hallmark sounds--rich diapasons, lush strings--were unaltered. A large new instrument was built in the rear gallery by the Schlicker Organ Company in 1969, adding great versatility to the church's musical resources with its 17th-century North German character. Schlicker also constructed an Italian-style continuo organ located above the south choir.  In 1984, a state trumpet was added to the chancel organ. In 1990, the church began a renovation and renewal project with three phases: replacement of the consoles with two new consoles built by Möller, new windchests and mechanical repairs for the chancel organ, and, thanks to a substantial gift, the installation of 100 additional ranks to the organs. The two new consoles are the largest drawknob consoles ever built in North America (the movable chancel console was completed shortly before the Möller company closed). All of the organs can be played from either or both of the twin five-manual consoles, one in the chancel, the other in the rear gallery. Richard F. Muench, longtime curator of the organs at First Church, undertook the second and third parts of the work until his death in 1992. William Zeiller, present organ curator, continued the project. The present renovations to the Great Organs will make them collectively one of the largest musical instruments ever built, and one of the largest and most complete organs in any church in the world. When the restoration work in progress is completed, the Great Organs will consist of more than 346 ranks, 265 stops, 233 voices, and 20,000 pipes.

Sunday morning worship

I was eager to attend the Sunday service at 11:00 am, looking forward to observing a master service player in action. I tend to dislike services put together solely to demonstrate repertoire, etc., for conference attendees (though enjoyable, they always have an ersatz feel), so I was glad to be attending a regular Sunday service at First Congregational. Upon entering the narthex, I was greeted by ushers in morning coats, and took my place to listen to Swann's extended prelude--Chorale from Symphony II, Vierne;  Choralfantasy "How Brightly Shines the Morning Star", Buxtehude; Came Three Holy Kings, Glière; and The Children of God, Messiaen. People listened in silence. Attendance was sparse, but those there exhibited enthusiasm. I looked and listened with admiration as Swann played the hymns from memory and skillfully accompanied the conference choir and the First Congregational choir.

Concerts and recitals

Sunday afternoon featured a concert given by the Los Angeles Master Chorale. The program included Kodály's Missa Brevis, Laudes Organi, and Vierne's Messe Solennelle, with organists Fred Swann and Philip Allen Smith. As concert time approached, the sanctuary was filled to capacity--people were standing in the aisles. The 60-voice Los Angeles Master Chorale, under the direction of Paul Salamunovich, is marvelous. Their sound is a seamless and rich straight tone, the altos and basses particularly strong, never outshone by the tenors and sopranos. Fred Swann knew when to keep the organ just behind the choir, and when to let it be at least equal, skillfully using the Skinner organ sounds to blend wonderfully with the voices. Kodály's festive "Laudes Organi" was premiered by Swann at the national AGO convention in Atlanta in 1966.

The Vierne "Messe Solennelle" was handled skillfully by Philip Allen Smith at the gallery organ and Swann at the chancel console. It was a treat to hear this work in an environment that shares important characteristics with the one for which it was conceived. Parry's "I Was Glad" was a thrilling close to an outstanding concert, rewarded with thunderous, extended applause.

The evening before the conference officially began, participants were invited to attend a keyboard tribute to Fred Bock at the First Presbyterian Church of Bel Air. The concert featured organists and pianists playing repertoire from two collections--"Encore, Encore" and "Bock's Best Friends," both published by Fred Bock Music Company--honoring the memory of Fred Bock, composer, music publisher, and former organist of First Presbyterian of Hollywood.

The organ at First Presbyterian of Bel Air was built by Robert Tall & Associates, blending 60 ranks of pipes salvaged from the previous Casavant organ (destroyed in the Northridge earthquake in 1994) with Rodgers digital voices to create an instrument with 151 ranks and 118 speaking stops. Although the organ's range of sounds is impressive, tuning and blend problems were evident. John West, artist in residence at First Presbyterian of Bel Air, demonstrated his expertise in effectively and tastefully handling the instrument's non-organ sound MIDI voices, while Fred Swann handled the instrument's traditional sounds with elegance in absentia (performing via MIDI playback, having been called to a rehearsal), in his own arrangement of "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." A fabulous Steinway concert grand was given equal time on the program, as pianists Jan Sanborn, Dwight Elrich, Mark Hayes, William Phemister, Michele Murray and Dick Bolks performed some lovely hymn-tune settings, several of which were arranged by the performers. These works are published in the collection "Bock's Best Friends" (Fred Bock Music, catalog number BG0967).

In keeping with the conference theme, two young artists were featured in recitals--Felix Hell and Svetlana Fiakhretdinova. The programs were well attended, the audience nearly filling the main floor of the 1000-seat sanctuary.

Felix Hell, 15-year-old organ prodigy, exudes a natural musicality and a palpable eagerness to perform. Dwarfed by the monster five-manual console, from the first notes of his performance he took command. His Bach, Buxtehude and Mendelssohn were elegantly expressive: he lingered over cadential harmonies and exuberantly freed the fantasy sections. His Bach D-major Prelude and Fugue was heroic. The fiendish Schlafes Brüder, his signature piece, sizzled, Felix negotiating its fistfuls of notes with aplomb. Felix hasn't quite grown into the expansive legato style of the Franck B-minor Choral, which also suffered from ineffective registration (though limited practice time while on tour might have been a factor). The Adagio from Widor's fifth sounded hurried, but he romped through the famous Toccata with ease. His encore was the Final from Vierne's Symphony I, and the second encore a repeat of "Schlafes Bruder."

Svetlana Fiakhretdinova, native of Moscow, Russia, was a regional winner in the AGO Young Artists Competition and is a student of John Weaver at the Curtis Institute. She played her program from memory, opening with Guillou's Toccata, demonstrating a very quiet technique. Her Vierne Adagio showed a good sense of the long lines in French music, and the stops of the Skinner organ sang warmly. Her Bach Trio Sonata, though rhythmically supple, was hindered by memory lapses, but she hit her stride with the Duruflé Suite. The Prelude flowed well and rumbled satisfyingly, the Sicilienne bubbled along gracefully at an impressive tempo, and the Toccata was electrifying yet solidly under control.

Noon organ concerts were offered on Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday by Robert Plimpton, Melody Steed, and Sean O'Neal, performers from the Los Angeles area.

Conference workshops

The conference workshops focused on two main topics--performance and organbuilding. Sessions on improvisation, repertoire, MIDI, the role of the accompanist, and organ maintenance made up the performance-related offerings of the conference.

The Los Angeles AGO Chapter, a sponsor of the Saturday events of the conference, had requested that the conference include workshops on improvisation. Two such workshops were held on Saturday afternoon: "Improvisation for the Advanced" led by Bruce Neswick, and "Improvisation for the Challenged" led by Fred Swann. Since I had heard Bruce Neswick speak before, I attended Fred Swann's session. He distributed a handout--"Basic Improvisation Suggestions for the Doodling/Noodling Challenged," which was full of great advice and guidelines, all demonstrated by Swann. The talk was interspersed with anecdotes from his experiences at Riverside Church and the Crystal Cathedral. Mark Thallender, associate organist at the Crystal Cathedral, was coaxed to the bench to demonstrate as well. These workshops were followed by an improvisation recital by Bruce Neswick.

Craig Phillips

If you haven't played anything written by Craig Phillips, call your music supplier. His works have a modern sound with somewhat modal harmony, are rhythmically interesting, and are very appealing to the listener. His oeuvre consists of organ solo and choral works as well as a smattering of works for organ with instruments and various instrumental ensembles. Craig Phillips serves as music associate at All Saints' Episcopal Church in Beverly Hills. He's a fine organist and demonstrated several works based on hymn tunes, including Torah Song, a well-crafted piece based on a tune from the Hymnal 1982. His yet unpublished Pastorale for Bassoon and Organ was lovely, and beautifully played by a bassoonist from his church. He commented that organ repertoire is inextricably linked to the development of the instrument, tied to the church, and for utilitarian purposes, with many works associated with specific instruments and churches. His influences are Buxtehude, Mendelssohn, Franck, Widor and Messiaen, and he views his work as part of a well-established continuum.

Thomas Somerville

Thomas Somerville, director of music at First Congregational, gave a workshop titled "What a Choral Director Expects of an Organist." Far from being a dry, didactic "how-to" session, Somerville's workshop was inspiring and well-planned. His affable nature and obvious respect for his colleagues communicated as much as his outline and remarks. He stressed the importance of communication--about the music and about working together. He distributed a sample of the detailed music schedule he prepares, relating how he discusses accompaniments and plans with Fred Swann and other staff members.

Somerville defines our purpose as church musicians as follows: "to point to, and glorify God as the author of goodness, the creator of beauty, the giver of artistic sensibility and talent, and focus of adoration and praise." He shared five points towards achieving our purpose as musicians in the church: choose music that embodies our purpose, prepare to perform the music to the best of our ability, commit to a musical partnership with all who will rehearse and perform the music with us, maintain an attitude of respect for all who will hear the music, do this with joy insofar as possible. Fred Swann concurrently gave a workshop on designing recital programs. A lively discussion had arisen at the end of Somerville's lecture, and Swann, having finished his workshop, poked his head in the door to tease Somerville about going a few minutes over time.

Robert Noehren

Having been an avid reader of his work and played his instruments, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to hear Robert Noehren speak after dinner on Saturday evening. This elder statesman of the organ world offered a new perspective on listening to music, noting that when you're ninety years old, you definitely live one day at a time. He asked himself two questions: "Do I listen to music simply for the pleasure of it?" "Have I missed that in my profession?" He realized he had been guilty of not truly listening to music. He believes you can't truly listen to music and do anything else, so now he sets aside time each day just to listen--behaving like an amateur, listening with curiosity. This practice has brought music to him in a refreshing new way and has virtually changed his outlook on music. Each morning he looks forward to his listening time.

He detailed some of the repertoire he listens to, and some of his experiences as performer and organbuilder, and made a parallel with food. He wants to make eating an art, to take great pleasure in it. In closing, he recommended choosing only music that you like, playing everything beautifully, and taking pleasure in doing things as well as you can. Live your life with a sense of artistic purpose. Sound advice for a world of people rushing around, often too busy to savor the substance of life. (See the text of Noehren's lecture in this issue, pages 15-16.)

Organbuilding workshops

Organbuilding workshops featured presentations by several prominent personalities from the organ world. John Wilson, organ curator at the Crystal Cathedral, gave a workshop on organ maintenance, offering advice on how the organist can help organ technicians, and what the organist should not do. He shared some anecdotes about the challenges of keeping the Crystal Cathedral organ in tune. Meanwhile, Robert Tall of Robert Tall & Associates, Inc.--a company that builds pipe and digital organs--gave a workshop, "The Magic of MIDI," demonstrating with equipment brought in for the workshop.

Manuel Rosales

Anticipation was in the air as Manuel Rosales took the podium on Monday afternoon, the audience eager to hear what this outspoken organbuilder had to say. Rosales feels it unwise to try to predict the organ's future, but prefers to look back and synthesize the ideas of the past to create something new. He seeks an organ design that allows a vast range of music to be played, not necessarily authentically, but convincingly, allowing performers to bring out the best in their own playing. In the 20th century, much of what the 19th century developed was discarded; the 21st century is now reversing that. He calls this idea the "universal" organ, citing examples from his opus list, pointing out the "restoration of the 8¢ principal in each division," something not common in tracker organs built in the second half of the 20th century.

Two of his latest projects are of particular interest--the organs for Disney Hall and the Catholic Cathedral, both in Los Angeles. The Cathedral organ will be housed in a new building, with a sanctuary seating 3500. The instrument will be built by Lynn Dobson (with electric action and a movable console), with Rosales as the consultant, overseeing the voicing of the instrument. He described the Disney Hall organ as a further development of his "universal organ" ideas. (See the article, "A Brief History of the Walt Disney Concert Hall Organ Project," by Manuel Rosales, in the July issue, pp. 12-13.) For this project, he will be collaborating with Glatter-Götz Orgelbau, a firm he has worked successfully with on two other organs. G-G is building the pipes and other components, while Rosales is overseeing the voicing. The organ's tonal design (4M, 72 stops, 107 ranks) is a traditional three-manual concept, but very grand. He described the organ's 4th manual division, the Llamarada, as "Spanish on steroids," including the Llamada (Spanish for bugle call) and Trompeta de Los Angeles, stops that are "spicy as a chili pepper." The organ will be mainly tracker action, but the big bass pipes and the Llamarada division will be on electric action, a necessity, Rosales says, in large tracker instruments. In fact, the entire organ will have redundant electric action, and a second, movable console will be provided to help the organist hear and be seen. The organ's façade was greatly influenced by the architect Frank Gehry (designer of the concert hall complex), and has been the subject of much discussion. About the design, Rosales commented, "It's something you'll never forget and people will have an opinion about it. However, its unusual design will incite people's curiosity and they'll want to hear it!"

Jeff Dexter

Jeff Dexter is tonal director of Schantz Organ Company, probably the youngest person in such a position in American organbuilding, and an organist himself. Dexter's lecture, "A Look Beyond the Stoplist," dealt with unraveling the intricacies of creating a stoplist and what goes into making it a reality. Dexter excels at presenting technical information in easily digestible form, with a personable style. His purpose was to illuminate what the stoplist reveals: the musical intent of the builder, particular musical goals, desires of the client, and a link to the past. He outlined the building blocks of tonal design: scaling (historical practice and empirical knowledge) and pipe construction (materials appropriate for desired sound), and reliable mechanism so the vision can succeed. He described tonal finishing as the ultimate realization of the tonal design, molding the sound and polishing it.

Panel discussion

Given the framework questions and the organbuilders involved, the panel discussion promised to be interesting. The discussion questions included: Is the pipe organ doomed? What are the trends? What can we do to keep it alive? What "style" will dominate? Fred Swann opened the session by saying, "There's an audience for every type of organ. The main criterion is can you make music on it?" He had invited four organbuilders representing four schools of thought to be on the panel: Gene Bedient--tracker; Jack Bethards--Romantic/symphonic, electro-pneumatic; Jeff Dexter of Schantz--tried and true middle of the road; Robert Walker--digital sounds. Each builder was invited to make an opening statement about his own work and point of view. Excerpts follow.

Gene Bedient: We at Bedient believe first and foremost in creating beautiful, acoustical sounds made by organ pipes. I'm constantly struck these days by the amount of knowledge there is in the organbuilding world--knowledge of types of sounds, of different national styles. My interest is in how we combine those exceptional sounds--and that does not mean only sounds from 16th-century Italy, but everything I've learned abroad and in this country from the early history of the organ through the present. American culture is diverse and has many facets, but the pipe organ is not inherent in our culture like it is in some cultures. It's important that we as organists, organbuilders and organ-lovers engender enthusiasm in the pipe organ among the rest of society.

Jack Bethards, Schoenstein: Our tonal philosophy is based on the romantic or symphonic tradition and it's our goal to try to carry forward this tradition into the modern age by increasing the musical expressiveness of the pipe organ through two main means--increasing its dynamic range and the range of tonal colors. This type of instrument has a solid place in the church because it is so suited to the role of accompaniment and playing a wide variety of repertoire--things that all churches want and need. It is a very musically flexible style.

I see an extremely bright future for the pipe organ in terms of quality and variety. I give a lot of credit for this to sources that may seem surprising. First,  the electronic organ. The electronic organ has now progressed to the point where pipe organ builders do not have to try to satisfy every need, every budget. It leaves pipe organ builders free to concentrate on highly specialized work for discriminating clients who really love the pipe organ. In a way, that is a real blessing. Second is the tracker organ revival. The organ reform movements have been a great boon to the whole organbuilding world in two ways. One, bringing back the idea of thorough research into organbuilding, developing knowledge of what went on before. Another, the interest in fine hand-craftsmanship. Now what we are seeing is a variety of organbuilders working in all sorts of fields, but most of them working for high quality in both mechanical and musical matters.

What about the quantity of organs being built? This is another story, and I'm very concerned about it. The real problem is the music that's being played on the organ. I would classify the music by type and quality. There is music that is organistic and music that is not organistic. What I see creeping into the church is music that is primarily based on rhythm with vanilla harmonic structure. This is a serious problem for those of us who love the great choral and organ tradition. We're being inundated with cheaply-constructed, terrible pop music. I'm concerned that we're not doing enough both as builders and players and as educators to fight this trend of cheapness. We must not back down on standards. We're not in a relativistic world. There are good things and bad things and we need to stand up and fight for the good.

Jeff Dexter, tonal director, Schantz: It was said of our firm by a very distinguished colleague of mine that the Schantz organ company has the distinct quality of building ordinary church organs. While I'm not sure that this colleague meant that as a compliment, we take that as a very, very high compliment. We unapologetically build church organs; 95% of our business is associated with building church organs. I would wholeheartedly echo the sentiments of Mr. Bethards about the quality of church music and how important that is, and how important it is that organbuilders, organists, choirmasters, and leaders of church music make sure that the quality of the music is the absolute best. We need to get young people involved in this art form. We have to be tireless in our advocacy of getting young students involved and interested in what we do and what we build.

One of the things that we're going to see in the early part of the 21st century is something that really has been evolving over the past several decades--an actual American organbuilding school, much like we think of Germanic or French or Spanish schools. I think we're going to see more and more coalescing of that which is "American," just as Willis sounds English or Cavaillé-Coll sounds French.

As organbuilders, whatever discipline we find ourselves in, I believe there is room for everybody at this table in terms of American organbuilding. There are some basic tenets that we could all agree to. First, we have to have organs that are accessible in a variety of ways. They have to be easy to play in the sense that they must be approachable. They must not put off people. They must be flexible in their ability to perform a wide variety of literature, and above all, they must be musical. If they're not musical, we've failed on a very basic level.

Robert Walker, Walker Technical Company: I look at things abstractly because I'm centered in the pipe organ business but I'm not really in it. I love the sound of a pipe organ more than anything--nothing is like it. What we're doing is imitation. It's very good and getting better, but not the same. What makes the pipe organ live for hundreds of years? The pipe organ appeals to the senses more than any other instrument. You feel it, you can feel the 32¢ sounds. The overall grandeur of the organ is going to last. You can create various moods with an organ.

One of the worst aspects of reproducing pipe sounds by digital means is that speakers project in a conical fashion, which is fine for reeds but is terrible for flues. A flue pipe is a spherical radiator. One of the reasons electronic reproduction has not been successful is its speaking system. The one thing we really love at our company is to have an enclosure because we can aim speakers in different directions at different surfaces to get all reflective sound; 80-90% of pipe organ sound is reflective energy. And it's the reflective energy that fills the building as opposed to being directed at it. The pipe organ moves the building whereas speakers move the air. So in order for us to reproduce what a pipe is doing, we need a chamber to really be able to move the chamber in addition to the air.

Walker's last comment sparked some questions regarding organs with cases or unencased and straight vs. concave radiating pedal boards. Further discussion dealt with what the aspects of an American sound are and the fight against pop-style church music. The most interesting exchanges dealt with the marriage of digital voices and pipes. The builders were asked to give their thoughts on the matter.

Walker: Digital sounds can be effective if a quality perspective is taken. All aspects must be considered--how do the sound families match? How will they be tuned? How will maintenance be undertaken and synchronized with pipe maintenance? It requires a great deal of custom work.

Bedient:  "This is one situation where divorce is justified." (great laughter from the audience)

Dexter: Schantz uses digital voices for 32¢ pedal stops and percussion sounds, but no manual stops are digital. Schantz was a founding member of the Associated Pipe Organ Builders of America, which has strict guidelines. Schantz never uses a digital sound to substitute for a real rank of pipes. Their philosophy is if it won't fit, don't do it in digital.

Bethards: Schoenstein uses digital percussion sounds and no others. "We are PIPE ORGAN builders." His concerns about the marriage were related to service and maintenance, and the need to find qualified people who can do both. Also, digital sounds tempt people to make additions to organs that shouldn't have additions. Instruments that have unity and balance can be thrown off by being able to add anything. It's a slippery slope.

At this point, Fred Swann quickly raised his hand and said, "Guilty as charged! I've had digital stops added here." But Swann knows how those sounds should be integrated with the instrument, and how to use them effectively, key concepts to grasp when traversing the "slippery slope" of the world of digital sounds.

Thank you, Fred Swann

The future of the Organ Alive! conference is uncertain due to Swann's retirement in May. In fact, the entire First Congregational music staff--Swann, Thomas Somerville and music administrator Kathie Freeman--retired at the same time. Martin Neary will assume the position of director of music at First Congregational. It is hoped that  he will be able to continue to share the great organs and ample facilities of the church as Fred Swann has with the Organ Alive! conferences.

During the conference, many peopled shared anecdotes about Fred Swann, and reminiscences of performances and of his kindnesses. I was amused by the way he often pipes in with a quip of some sort. My favorite was: "More souls have been saved by two notes on the chimes than by all the mixtures in captivity." He often uses humor to get a point across and is self-effacing. He has served the field of church music for sixty years with his excellent musicianship and inviting manner.

Expressing his appreciation for the presence of the many conference attendees, Fred Swann graciously said, "I can't thank you enough if I thank you every time I see you." No Fred, WE can't thank YOU enough if we thank you every time we see you.

The topic of the twelfth San Anselmo Organ Festival was
“The Organ in California: Successive Styles and Changes.” The
underlying premise of the conference was that change is inevitable, as seen in
;the relatively short history of California since its first settlement by
Europeans. Linda Clark, Director of the Master of Sacred Music program at
Boston University School of Theology, provided sociological and theological
insight into each successive era. She emphasized that we “stand on the
shoulders of people who have faced similar situations and have inherited
practices from them.” “Practices” she defined as “a
complex set of culturally specific ways of accomplishing something of enduring
importance to people.” We have been formed by practices. Clark developed
her subject in brief daily “meditations” which were followed by
five minutes of silence and then the performance by Michael Struck of an organ
work relevant to the subject matter of the day.

Monday: Spanish/Mexican California

The entire conference was in the form of a giant organ
crawl. The first excursion was to Mission San José, which was founded in
1797 as the 15th in a series of Franciscan missions in California. Although an
organ had been ordered in the 19th century, it was not installed due to the demise of the missions when California became part of the United States. Therefore, its first organ is the new instrument installed in 1988 by Rosales Organ Builders. It is historically faithful to the early 19th-century Mexican organs, with a split keyboard, and is tuned in 1/4 syntonic comma meantone. Robert Bates of Stanford University played a recital which illustrated the poignancy of the tuning.

Juan Pedro Gaffney delivered a lecture on the music of the
Franciscan missions, pointing out that the rich musical life of the missions
was based on the mature tradition of musical practice in Mexico City, where
many of the friars had studied. The indigenous Californians adapted easily to
traditional western music as singers and instrumentalists.
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  Mission San José, for instance,
had a resident orchestra in the early 19th century. The friars also provided
Christian texts in native language and recorded historical narratives from
Aztec nobles.  Gaffney directed his
Coro Hispano de San Francisco in a vespers for the feast of St. John the
Baptist using music almost entirely from the great polyphonic choirbooks of
Mexico City Cathedral and other great Baroque Mexican churches.

Tuesday: Anglo Settlement of California

The first part of the 19th century under the Franciscans was
relatively stable politically and economically, and the arts flourished. But
beginning in 1840 the missions were secularized, the great rancheros began to
disappear, and non-Hispanic pioneers began to infiltrate the culture. The 1849
gold rush brought hordes of new settlers from around the world. San Francisco
grew into a city overnight. The miners found that the capriciousness of fate
was the central fact of existence; there was a wide chasm between religious
practice on the west and east coasts in that the pioneers’ commitment to
traditional values was not as widespread or deep. Moreover, the climate and
natural beauty of the region furnished transcendent experiences outside of
organized religion.

A remarkable collection of photographs of 19th-century
organs in California was shared by Jim Lewis. Most of the organs shown were
destroyed in the great San Francisco earthquake and fire in 1906. Of particular
interest was a seventeen-section panorama of San Francisco in 1878 showing a
profusion of churches. A prolific Bay Area organ builder of the time was John
Bergstrom, one of whose organs was heard at Christ Episcopal Church in
Sausalito where David Farr conducted the members of the Ragazzi Boys Chorus and
David Farr Chorale in a 1905 Victorian Matins.

After proceeding to San Francisco by ferry, we heard three
pre-fire organs played by students from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music
and their teacher, Wyatt Insko. At the First United Lutheran Church (the first
English-speaking Lutheran church in San Francisco), Frederick DeBoer played a
short program including Dudley Buck’s Concert Variations on the Star
Spangled Banner. The Woodbury & Harris organ (1899), in its third home, was
restored by Manuel Rosales, and has a flat 27-note pedalboard and mechanical
key and stop action. We then heard Franck’s Pièce
Héroïque played by Jung Ran Lim on a 1906 Pilcher organ at Central
Seventh Day Adventist Church. The Philadelphian Seventh-Day Adventist church
has a tubular pneumatic organ built by the Los Angeles Art Organ Company,
successor to Murray M. Harris. The blower was electric from the start. Yishiu
Chen performed Conrad Susa’s “March for a Joyous
Occasion.” 

The 1904 Möller organ in the Church of St. John the
Evangelist has been modified extensively. For example, the 16¢ Lieblich
Gedeckt has been reconstituted from four different ranks from other builders,
but the sound is seamless. Wyatt Insko played J. S. Bach’s transcription
of a Concerto in G Major by Duke Wilhelm Ernst of Weimar. The day concluded
with a wine-tasting and tour hosted by Jack Bethards of the historic
Schoenstein organ factory, founded in 1877.

Wednesday:  San
Francisco after the 1906 Fire

Wayne Leupold argued that transcriptions are now
respectable, citing arrangers from 1300 to the present—including, among
others, J. S. Bach, Boëly, Liszt, Saint-Saëns, Franck, Widor, and
Novello.  Some of the compositions
emerged “new and improved” with the transcriber’s own opus
number.  In the early 1900s Edwin
Lemare brought transcriptions to a new level of sophistication, as demonstrated
by Frederick Hohman, who played Lemare’s transcription of Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Overture at a “1924 Concert of Organ Music” on the Skinner organ in Trinity Episcopal Church, which was installed in that year.

Christian Elliott accompanied a screening of Buster
Keaton’s film “Steamboat Bill Jr.” on the Wurlitzer organ at
the Castro Theater, performing his own score. His synchronization with
Keaton’s “singing” of the Prisoner’s Song and also with
the impact of various falling objects was faultless.

Civic organs were discussed at the Palace of the Legion of
Honor by John Fenstermaker, Ed Stout, and Jonathan Ambrosino. The
museum’s Skinner organ was installed with the premise that great music
should accompany great art. Ed Stout is currently restoring this 63-rank 1924
organ, rebuilding the console and adding a computerized combination action. The
organ has many unusual features, including an Arch Clarion and Chimes which are
designed to be heard in the courtyard. 
Another unusual aspect of the organ is that there are no obvious
“grills” or means for the organ to be heard in the museum. All of
the openings were originally covered in muslim and painted to imitate the stone
walls which surround them. Over the years, the paint had become so thick that
the sound of the organ was severely compromised. The restoration will include
the installation of a more suitable covering.

The First Church of Christ, Scientist in San Francisco has a
splendid example of the orchestral style of organ building —a 1924
Kimball that has been virtually unchanged. All the pipework is enclosed so that
“one can accompany the Aeoline with the Tuba Mirabilis,” according
to organist C. Thomas Rhoads, who demonstrated the tonal families and then
played a program which included his own transcription of the “Serenade of
the Doll” from Debussy’s Children’s Corner Suite.

Thursday:  The
American Classic Organ and The Early Organ Reform Movement

Jonathan Ambrosino showed how pipe organs were everywhere
during Victorian times—not only in churches but in private homes and even
yachts. If there was no resident organist, music was played from rolls; it was
the home entertainment center. There was—and still is—an Austin
organ in Balboa Park in San Diego where Edwin Lemare gave a concert series in
1902. Ambrosino  gave an absorbing
account of Murray M. Harris’ ups and downs, E. M. Skinner’s falling
out with three prominent California organists (Moore, Sabin and Allen) and the
ascendancy of G. Donald Harrison. Between 1930 and 1965 organs underwent swift
and dramatic change, but Harrison never rejected the romantic organ; he just
wanted to make it better. He looked backward for authentic organ sounds that
would serve previous periods of music, not imitations of orchestral sounds. He
never lost sight of the organ’s purpose, which was accompanying choirs.
He believed that all sounds in an organ needed to work together. A small
Æolian-Skinner organ (1939) at St. Boniface Church demonstrated this
emerging neo-classical trend with only eight ranks plus Plein Jeu. Other
builders reacted against the perceived sentimental excesses of the romantic
organ.

One of Harrison’s crowning achievements was the organ
at Grace Cathedral where we heard Evensong. Christopher Putnam gave a rousing
performance of Searle Wright’s Lyric Rhapsody for the prelude and John
Fenstermaker conducted the men’s choir in a setting of Psalm 126 by
Sowerby.

A concert of “Organ and Chamber Music for the American
Classic Organ” was performed at First Presbyterian Church in San Anselmo
by three organists. Layten Heckman’s portion included Hovhaness’
Dawn Hymn and Three Pieces for a Ceremony by Michael McCabe with the Festival
Brass Ensemble conducted by David Farr. Wilbur Russell played Wilbur
Held’s Music for the New Year, recently commissioned by the host church.
In Theme and Variations on “The Old Year Now Has Passed Away”
Russell showed the varying colors of the 1966 Æolian-Skinner.
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  John Pagett accompanied Susan Rode
Morris on the piano for Prayers, Songs and Praises by David Clark Isele. The
evening ended with a hilarious rendition of “The King of Instruments: A
Parade of Music and Verse.” The Ogden Nash-like text, by Albright and
Eugene Haun, was delightfully hammed up by Chandler Stokes, the pastor of the
church.

Friday: 
Latter-Day Reform Movement; The Tracker Revival; Historical Copies

The 1910 Hutchings organ at Old First Presbyterian Church
was a victim in 1950 of the trend toward neo-baroque voicing. Shrill upperwork
was added and important 8¢ ranks discarded. Visscher Associates has just
rebuilt and greatly enlarged the organ, keeping it faithful to the
organ’s original tonal purpose while expanding the instrument’s
versatility.  George Becker played
a historically diverse program including Franck’s Choral in B Minor in
which the Vox Humana was particularly effective.

At Stanford University Robert Bates introduced us to the
three magnificent organs at Memorial Church. A brand new addition is the
Katherine Potter-Brinegar cabinet organ built in Renaissance style (after
Compenius) by Paul Fritts and Company. 
It is tuned in 1/4 comma meantone temperament with suspended mechanical
key action, and easily movable to other locations in the church. The size of
the instrument is deceptive; the sounds, some pure and sweet and others
surprisingly sonorous, carry through the church with ease. The oldest organ in
the church is the large 1901 Murray M. Harris instrument which has been
reworked by Johnston Organ Company (a successor to Murray Harris), Ernest
Skinner, Æolian-Skinner, Rosales, and in 1995 by John DeCamp and Mark
Austin.  The 1984 Fisk-Nanney organ
epitomizes the tracker revival and can be played either in well temperament or
in one-fifth comma meantone by moving a lever.

We visited the home of Jacques Littlefield, in which there
is a large Fisk organ (1987) showing mixed French and German influences.
Noteworthy are the Dom Bedos Tremblant Doux and the harmonic flute which
changes greatly in character as it gets higher, demonstrated by Matthew Dirst
with D’Aquin’s Noël Étranger. Ewert (“Red”)
Wetherill gave an overview of  the
acoustical revisions of  Memorial
Church. He noted that the mosaic work on the walls provides superb
reflectivity, but that the jointed, lightweight plank ceiling is absorptive
especially in the lower registers. Improvements included removing a thick layer
of hair-covered felt from the entire ceiling of the church. The afternoon ended
with a typical Sunday morning service of Holy Communion at All Saints’
Episcopal Church where Gwen Adams is the music director. It is the
parish’s custom to print a large quantity of music directly in the Sunday
program, thereby encouraging maximum congregational participation. The parish
sings the same setting of the liturgy for the whole of a given church season so
that the congregation can learn it; they sing new hymns three or four weeks in
a row for the same reason.

The final event of the 1996 Festival was a concert with the
three organs at Stanford entitled: “Five Centuries of Transcriptions for
Organ.” Particularly effective was Paduana Lachrimae by Dowland,
intabulated by Sweelinck and played antiphonally by Robert Bates on the
Potter-Brinegar at the front of the church and Matthew Dirst on the Fisk in the
rear top gallery.  A rousing end to
the evening and the Festival was provided by Frederick Hohman with the
“Ride of the Valkyries” complete with Brunnhilde’s portamento
up to the high note, played on the Murray M. Harris.

In a follow-up conference in October titled “A
Changing Profession:  Embracing the
New Century,” the common thread of need for more education persisted.
Drawing on his article in the February 1996 edition of The American Organist,
“Leonard Bernstein, a Lodestar for the American Church Musician,”
Steve Pilkington urged us to “lighten up” in dealing with the gap
between the organist’s traditional musical orientation and the
congregational comfort level. We must educate congregations more and make music
accessible and inclusive the way Bernstein did in his young people’s
concerts. Harriet Nelson noted that shared traditions hold institutions
together while generational differences work against this. To confront this
trend we should be willing to adapt, have integrity, seek quality and develop
competence.

During research for her book Music in Churches, Linda Clark
studied the style of three Methodist congregations. The style of the first, a
rural congregation, was characterized by energy and hubbub; the second, located
in a suburban neighborhood, was formal and dignified; the third, a downtown
Boston African-American church, was characterized by rhythm, power, and a
call-and-response culture. She feels that conflicts over popular musical style
involve two separate issues:  the
quality of the music and the style in which it is performed.

John Pagett advised us to rededicate ourselves to aggressive
education, keeping aware of the pervasiveness of popular culture.

Jack Bethards, Manuel Rosales and Jonathan Ambrosino
discussed developments in organ design. Electronic organs have taken over the
cheap market. With the reduced volume of work there is less feedback and less
opportunity for development, but builders still get excited about reproducing a
sound they hear inside their head.

In an upbeat sharing session attendees contributed various
suggestions:  improve your
publicizing skills; play a congregant’s favorite hymns on their birthdays
(perhaps for donations to the music fund); write articles in the bulletin about
the organ music performed that day; investigate new electronic sounds (not
duplicative ones); improve acoustics of the church as much as possible; include
everyone possible as ‘extras’ in your music programs.

The Festival fully explored its subject matter and this
reviewer came away more aware of the debt we owe to those who came before us
and the responsibility we have in handing on to succeeding generations their
and our own “practices.” Change is endemic to every period and
provides the stimulus for a thoughtful determination of what our own
“practice” will be.

Part two of two

II.

The balance of this article will explore some of the methods used by Schoenstein in designing symphonic organs.

Tonal Variety

In planning a symphonic organ, no tone color that might be useful is excluded from consideration, and if something new seems appropriate we will develop it. We see no problem in combining individual sounds from French, German, English and American traditions of different periods in one instrument. This may seem like a dangerous approach, and it is . . . for those who must follow only established rules. If, on the other hand, a designer has in mind a well-formed image of the tonal architecture and its end result, the freedom to include elements of rare beauty handed down to us by the great builders of the past can open new avenues of creativity. This approach is only successful when applied with the strictest of discipline. Anything that does not blend and pull its weight in the ensemble or serve in a variety of solo or accompaniment roles should not be included. Collecting multiple elements of different traditions in an attempt to combine two or more repertoire-specific instruments into one is usually disastrous. The once-popular procedure of building an organ with a German Great and Positiv and French Swell or adding a romantic Solo to a neo-classic design are ideas that have, fortunately, lost their appeal. The goal should be to create an ensemble that has integrity in its own right and is able to acquit itself musically in a number of different styles with such conviction that there is no need to claim “authenticity.”

An equally important rule of design is to avoid making an instrument any larger than necessary or practical. No organ should have more stops than it needs to get its musical job done. No organ should be so large that it becomes unseviceable or acoustically chokes on its own bulk. When too much organ is squeezed into too little space and/or spread hither and yon, maintenance and tuning problems are sure to result. An organ should be of adequate size to be considered symphonic, but that size is much smaller than one might think. The smallest organ we have made that can qualify is the 15-voice, 17-rank instrument in the chapel of the University of St. Thomas, Houston, Texas (see stoplist). Certainly 40 to 50 voices provide ample opportunity for design freedom and 60 to 70 voices are all that should be required even for very big buildings. An example of our approach in a large symphonic plan is at First Plymouth Congregational Church in Lincoln, Nebraska (see stoplist). Note that this instrument has 73 voices if the separate gallery organ is not included.

Our stoplists show how we combine various tone colors, but a few explanatory notes may be in order. When combining individual stops into groups, we think of them in these categories: first, traditional choruses of diapasons and reeds; second, stops of moderate power from all tonal families serving in both accompanimental (manual and pedal) and in solo roles; third, ethereal stops--the extremely soft and delicate tones of the flute, string or hybrid type; fourth, bass stops of exceptional depth and power; and fifth, heroic solo stops. Some stops, of course, can fit into more than one of these categories but the classification is useful in reviewing whether or not the organ has all of the tonal characteristics common to a good symphonic ensemble.

Since the diapason is unique to the organ and the tone most often used, we seek to provide several (with appropriate chorus development), each of distinct character, on organs of even modest size. They vary not only in scale, but in mouth width, slotting, etc. We like to include stops of the echo diapason class (dulcianas, salicionals, etc.) as well. During the organ reform movement, open flutes, particularly at 8’ pitch, were not in vogue. We tend to include more open than stopped flutes. Stops of genuine string tone have not been popular either. This is a sad omission and certainly an organ without them cannot be considered symphonic. We like to include a family of strings and celestes from very narrow to very broad scale, all with true string quality rather than the geigen principal type that served as string tone in neo-classic organs. We try to include at least one of each of the color reeds (Clarinet, Oboe, Vox Humana and, where possible, horns, and specialty stops such as the Orchestral Oboe) as well as a complete chorus of trumpet tone (in large schemes, those of both closed and open shallot type). To broaden both dynamic and color ranges, very soft flue stops (often of the hybrid, tapered types) and bold solo stops (usually of the trumpet or tromba class) are important. In small schemes these effects can be had with stops doing double duty through effective expression.

We have developed several new voices. Some of these are variations on long established styles such as our Celestiana, which is a very narrow scale, quarter-tapered hybrid of clear but very soft flute tone; the Cor Seraphique with its Vox Angelique celeste is a larger scale version. Our Corno Dolce and Flute Celeste are brighter renditions of the E. M. Skinner Flauto Dolce and Flute Celeste. We find this bright character more generally useful in smaller instruments. The Voix Sérénissime is a small scale string of extremely keen intonation but of soft volume. The Silver Flute is a narrow-mouth, non-harmonic version of our large Harmonic Flute. It may be thought of as a metal Claribel Flute. 

The Symphonic Flute is a new development, also called Bœhm Flute, incorporating many different pipe constructions throughout its compass to achieve an interesting effect found in the orchestra’s family of transverse flutes. The flute of the symphony orchestra is bright and reed-like in its lower register with a full, increasingly powerful and pure, bell-like treble. These tone qualities are carried downward to the alto, bass and contra-bass flutes and upward to the piccolo. The Symphonic Flute was realized after extensive studies with flute players and manufacturers, as well as a careful review of Bœhm’s treatise. The tonal character is achieved, as in real flutes, by maintaining nearly the same diameter from bass to treble. The diameter progresses unevenly to achieve particular effects, but it does not reach the half-way point until the 48th pipe. The pipes in the bass therefore are of string scale progressing through principal, moderate flute, a wide flute, to very wide flute at the top. Pipe construction is of five varieties: slotted; non-slotted; harmonic; double mouth harmonic; and double mouth, double harmonic. This new solo color for the organ is both powerful and beautiful.

We employ high wind pressure for beauty, precision, or smoothness of tone where it is required. Solo flutes and strings and all closed shallot chorus reeds certainly have benefited from this treatment. Loudness can be achieved by other means, but carrying power without harshness is most perfectly achieved through heavy pressure.

A final note on tone is perhaps the most important point in this essay: Beauty of tone trumps all else in organ design. Beauty is perhaps too simple a term. Organ stops of great character can be quite bold and assertive, colorful and mysterious, languid and wistful. They are all forms of beauty to my ear. The secret is committed voicing. By that I mean making tone that has something to say, not simply playing it safe with blandness. Anyone who studies organ tone knows what I mean. Great voicing imparts something extra to energize a tone and make it appealing. A single diapason of beautiful quality will outplay a 100-rank organ that is all bluster and blandness. An organ may look symphonic on paper, but if the character of tone is not beautiful, it cannot qualify. An organ of any type with beautiful tone will surpass a poor symphonic one. However, if beauty of tone can be combined with all of the flexibility promised in the symphonic ideal, the result can be sublime.

Balance

To achieve balance there must be a center of gravity and in the symphonic organ it is at 8’ in the manuals. Each division should lay its foundation at the 8’ level. This, after all, is where the music is written. In our symphonic concept, upperwork is considered a coloring agent, a way of adding a distinctive character to the 8’ line. Therefore, in chorus design, as a general rule, scales decrease as pitch levels increase. Where we have the luxury of two mixture stops in a division, we vary them in color and dynamic rather than pitch: for example, one at mf and another at ff or one with a tierce and one without. Sometimes the mixture is enclosed separately. We avoid flutiness and overemphasis of off-unison pitches in upperwork; pure, clear diapason tone is the goal. Most 8’ stops, particularly those that must blend with related upperwork, have high harmonic content, a satisfying brilliance in their own right. Eight-foot stops are also regulated in a treble-ascendant fashion to emphasize the melody line; pipes become progressively slightly louder as they ascend the compass from the middle of the keyboard.

Horizontal balance is equally important and we believe that all of the manual divisions should be of adequate power to balance one another; the Swell and Great approximately equal and the Choir only slightly below. Reeds and flues should be equally balanced, but in certain acoustical situations the reeds should dominate. In dealing with chambers or in rooms of dry acoustic, open flute, string, and chorus reed tone are far more effective in producing tone of noble and powerful character than is diapason upperwork.

Clarity

One only has to see the density of a Reger, Widor, or Elgar score to realize that clarity is vitally important in romantic and modern music--as much as in early music. Many organs just present great blocks of sound. This may be titillating, but it is not music making. The notes must be heard if the intent is to be expressed. Most of the burden for clarity rests on the organist, who must judge his instrument and his acoustic; but the organ must not stand in his way. Clarity is achieved in an organ by many means including steady wind, precise action, voicing for prompt, clean attack and clear tone that is steady and free of irritating chiff, wild harmonics, and white noise.

Enclosure

There are vital qualities of freshness and presence associated with unenclosed pipework, but we believe that having pipes unenclosed is a luxury that can only be afforded in a scheme that also has a full range of resources, including Pedal stops, enclosed in at least two boxes. In smaller jobs the entire organ should be under expression, although sometimes circumstances dictate otherwise, for example where the Great must be placed forward of the Swell. In very large jobs it is good to have tones of similar character enclosed and unenclosed so that each class of tone can be used in its full range of expressive beauty. The best enclosure is masonry. Hollow brick faced with cement is the preferred construction and this points out the advantage of organ chambers in some situations. If an organ is primarily used for accompaniment where dynamic control and atmospheric, ethereal effects are of utmost importance, a properly designed and located chamber is ideal. An enchambered organ is as different from an encased free-standing one as a piano is from a harpsichord. Each has its advantages and each must be designed differently. The enchambered organ requires a stoplist emphasizing stops scaled and voiced for exceptional projection and carrying power, higher wind pressure, and a layout taking maximum advantage of the opening and preventing echoes within the chamber. In recent years chambers have been thoughtlessly despised. It is time to recognize their value as a means of increasing the range of musical options offered by the organ.

Dynamic Control

The symphonic organ must provide the organist with three distinct types of dynamic control: continuous, discrete-terraced, and sudden. These are all qualities common to the symphony orchestra, but often illusive on the organ. The continuous dynamic is achieved on the organ only through the use of the expression box and shades. A good expression box when fully open should not rob the pipes of clear projection and presence to any great degree, but when closed should reduce loudness from at least ff to p. To achieve this, a box must be reasonably sound proof with adequate density to control leakage of bass and must be well sealed when closed: Gaps are anathema to good expression box control. The shades cannot be too thick because their bulk will not permit a full use of the opening. Shades should be able to open 90 degrees. They must be fast acting and silent. Achieving smooth, continuous expression control is one of the greatest challenges in organ building.

To achieve a continuous dynamic range from fff to ppp we have developed a system of double expression, placing a box within a box. (See drawing.) The inner box is placed at the rear of the outer (main) box so that there is a large air space between the two sets of shades. When both sets of shades are closed, the space contained between them provides a very effective sound trap. We place the softest and most powerful sounds inside the inner box of the division. For example, a pair of ethereal strings and the Vox Humana; the high pressure chorus reeds and a mixture. A balanced expression pedal is provided at the console for each box. On large instruments a switching system allows the organist to select conveniently which shades are to be assigned to each balanced pedal. With the shades not quite fully open, the stops within the inner box are at a normal volume level to balance the rest of the division. With both sets of shades fully closed the soft stops in the inner box are reduced to near inaudibility and the chorus reeds are reduced to the level of color reeds. With all shades fully open, the chorus reeds and mixture are slightly louder than those of the Great. The Vox Humana usually has its own shades with a console switch to shift from pp to mf. There are many expressive possibilities with this system. For example, a crescendo may be started using the ethereal strings with both boxes closed, opening the inner box until the level is equal to the soft stops in the outer box, which are then added. The outer box is opened, adding stops in the normal manner while closing the inner box. The chorus reeds and mixture are drawn and the inner box reopened to complete the crescendo. This is done with ease after a bit of practice. During the installation of our organ in Washington, D.C. at St. Paul’s Church, music director Jeffrey Smith accompanied the Anglican choral service with nothing more than the Swell organ for over a month. It was the double box arrangement that made this possible.

The discrete-terraced dynamic requires having an adequate number of stops of similar or related tonal quality at different dynamic levels so that increased power is achieved in increments by adding stops. This effect is realized by hand registration, pistons, or a well-arranged crescendo pedal.

The third character of dynamic--sudden change--is usually done with manual shifts, second touch, very fast-acting expression shades, or a silent, fast and uniform stop action controlled by either the combination action or the Crescendo pedal and backed up by a steady, responsive wind system. Without this, a symphonic approach to organ playing is impossible. Clattery mechanism is annoying under any circumstances but especially so when sudden changes are required in the midst of a phrase, for example, to underscore an anthem or hymn text. We have introduced a device that adds another means of accent: the Sforzando coupler. It is a simple device wherein a coupler, for example Solo to Great, is made available through a momentary-touch toe lever. A fff combination can be set on the Solo and added to a ff combination on the Great at a climactic point with a brief touch of the toe to create a sforzando effect.

Wind System

There has been much discussion in recent decades about the virtue of flexible or “living” wind. If the wind supply were under the direct control of the player to be manipulated at will, there might be some point to argue. Since it is not, unsteady wind has no place in the symphonic organ. The whole point of the symphonic approach is to seek absolute control by the organist of all resources. So-called flexible wind is set in motion according to the design of the system and the demands being placed upon it. The organist can strive to achieve a reasonably pleasant effect, but he cannot have full control over the result. We believe in providing absolutely steady wind using a multiplicity of regulators, not only to make available different wind pressures, but to assure consistent response from all pipes under all playing conditions. Most chests are fed by at least two steps of regulation, each with spring control, so that the final regulator in the system does not have too much differential for which to compensate. A moving bass line should not upset the treble; intervals and chords should not de-tune when wind demand is high. It’s also important for the wind system to have more than adequate capacity to handle any demand and to have quick refill response so that staccato tutti chords will sound firm and full as they do in the orchestra. All too often, organs with great nobility of sustained tone turn into gasping caricatures when the forward motion of the music goes beyond their limits.

Another important wind system effect is a beautiful vibrato. We have developed a Variable Tremulant device, which allows the organist to control the speed of the beat from a balanced pedal at the console. We employ this normally on solo stops such as our Symphonic Flute. The normal, completely metronomic tremulant of the organ seems a bit unnatural when applied to lyrical passages. The Variable Tremulant allows the organist to simulate the more subtle vibrato used by first class instrumentalists and singers. The Vox Humana is also provided with a slow/fast tremulant switch, to fit both general and French Romantic repertoire.

Action

Speed and precision of both key and stop action are critical to the success of a symphonic organ. Key action must be lightning fast on both attack and release and respond uniformly from all keys regardless of the number of stops or couplers employed. Stop action must be fast and clean, i.e., without any hesitation or gulping on draw or release. Again, the entire action system must be silent. To meet these requirements we use electric-pneumatic action with an individual-valve windchest. (See illustration.) The expansion cell provides a cushioning effect similar to that of a note channel in a slider chest. It also allows placement of all action components near one another on the bottom board to reduce action channeling and increase speed.

The most important musical advantage of individual valves is to eliminate interdependence of pipes. With the exception of mixtures, where all pipes of a given note always speak together, we consider it a serious musical defect to place pipes on a common channel where the wind characteristics are different depending on the number of stops drawn and where there is a possibility of negative interaction within the channel. This is especially true, of course, with combinations of reeds and flues on the same channel and/or several large stops using copious wind. Each pipe should produce the same sound each time it is played no matter how many others are combined with it. As with flexible wind, the organist loses a degree of control over his instrument if random changes in pipe response can occur.

The most important reason for absolute uniformity of chest response under all conditions is the fact that pipes do not have the flexibility to adjust for variations in attack, wind supply, and release as do other wind instruments. A trumpet player, for example, can adjust attack, tone color, and release to an amazing degree of subtlety through precisely coordinated changes in breath, diaphragm, throat and mouth shape, tongue motion and position, embouchure, mouthpiece pressure, etc. In an organ, all of the analogous elements of control are set in place permanently by the voicer with the sole exceptions of wind regulator (diaphragm) and pipe valve (tongue motion). The pipe cannot change to accommodate variations in valve action and wind supply. As described before, wind supply cannot be controlled by the organist. This leaves the valve as the only means of control—and that control is limited even on the best mechanical actions. I submit that this element of control is actually a negative because variations in valve action, being different from the one experienced by the voicer, will be more likely to degrade pipe speech than to enhance it. If the key touch can affect attack and release but not all the other elements of tone production, then it follows that the organist is placed in the position of devoting his thought and energy toward avoiding ugly effects instead of concentrating on elements of performance that can be under precise and complete control. By maintaining absolute uniformity the performer knows what will happen every time a pipe is played.

Rather than searching for the elusive quality of touch control on the organ, we believe it is best to enhance speed of response and accuracy. The best way for an artist to achieve lyrical phrasing, clear articulation, and accent is through absolute control of timing. This is facilitated by keyboards with an articulated touch, providing a definite feel of the electric contact point, and an action that is immediately responsive both on attack and release. A sensitive player can then realize the most intricate and subtle musical ideas on what is essentially a large machine. The more the mechanism gets in the way of performance, forcing certain techniques, the less artistic freedom one has and the further the organ strays from the mainstream of instrumental and vocal music.

Flexible Control

We seldom acknowledge that the organist assumes the roles of orchestrator, conductor and instrumentalist—a daunting task to say the least. In effect, he is given nothing more than the kind of three-stave sketch that a composer might give to an orchestrator. The decisions an organist must make about registration are directly analogous to the orchestrator deciding on instrumentation, doubling, voice leading, chordal balance, etc. Since the organ is really a collection of instruments, the organist also has the conductor’s job of balancing the dynamic levels of individual sounds, accompaniments, inner voices of ensembles, counter melodies, and so on. As an instrumentalist he must have virtuoso keyboard technique. To achieve all of this requires great flexibility of control. The temptation is to load the console with a bristling array of playing aids. However, it is easy to pass the point where complexity becomes self-defeating. Here are some of the guidelines we use in designing consoles. First, the console must be comfortable. Dimensions should be standard and then, as far as possible, adjustable to conform to different organists. In addition to the adjustable bench, we have on several occasions provided adjustable-height pedalboards. We use a radiating and concave pedalboard and also non-inclined manual keys on the theory that when changing from one keyboard to another it is important that they be uniform. Controls must be placed in positions that are easy to see, memorize and reach. The combination action should be as flexible as possible providing the organist the opportunity to assign groups of stops to a piston at will. For example, on our combination action with the Range feature the organist can, while seated at the console, change divisional pistons into generals and vice-versa, assign pedal stops to a manual division, rearrange reversibles, etc. Multiple memories, of course, are now standard and of great value.

In addition to the multiple, assignable expression boxes, Variable Tremulant, and Sforzando coupler mentioned elsewhere, we like to include three special Pedal accessories on larger instruments. The first is a coupler bringing the Pedal to the Choir to facilitate fast pedal passages in transcriptions of orchestral accompaniments. The second is a Pedal Divide which silences the Pedal couplers in the low notes and silences the pedal stops in the upper notes. This allows the simultaneous playing of bass and solo lines on the pedalboard. The third is Pizzicato Bass, with a momentary-touch relay activating pipes of the Pedal Double Open Wood at 8¢ pitch. This provides a clear, pointed attack to the bass line reminiscent of divisi arco/pizzicato double bass writing for orchestra. This effect has been very useful in articulating bass lines, which on the organ are otherwise clouded rhythmically. The octave note is hardly noticeable, but the increase in buoyancy of the pedal line is quite amazing.

The most valuable and perhaps most controversial flexibility device is unification (extension). Certainly nothing other than tracker action has caused more argument over the last 50 years. The individual valve system obviously makes unification both simple and economical. Unification offers several musical advantages as we will see, but there are great dangers as well and it is most unfortunate that it has been so misused that some cannot see any of its advantages. We employ unification in symphonic organs, large and small, wherever a positive musical advantage can be achieved. Unification is, after all, merely coupling of individual stops rather than entire divisions. Whereas coupling is generally accepted, unification is not despite the fact that coupling of individual stops can offer a far more artistic result.

Perhaps the most interesting use of the unification is in creating new sounds. For example, to produce the stunning orchestral effect of trombones, tenor tubas, or horns playing in unison, we developed the Tuben (III) stop. This converts a chorus of 16’, 8’, 4’ tubas or trumpets into a unison ensemble by bringing the 4’ stop down an octave, the 16’ stop up an octave, and combining these with the 8’ stop. The three tones of slightly different scale but similar character create a most appealing unison effect and can be further combined with other stops of similar color at 8’ pitch. We have done the same with 16’, 8’ and 4’ Clarinet stops creating unison ensemble Clarinet tone, a common orchestrator’s device and most valuable to the organist for accompaniment and improvisation.

A traditional use of unification is in pedal borrowing from the manuals. We use this device extensively based on observation that one of the most difficult tasks facing an organist is finding a bass of suitable volume and color. We sometimes also borrow stops from one manual to another so that a stop may be used without tying up another manual with a coupler. A common application is transferring the Choir Clarinet to the Great so that it may be played against the Choir mutations. In some cases we derive an entire third manual on a moderate size organ from stops of the Great and Swell. This manual may either contain solo stops selected from both of the other manuals or a combination of solo stops from one manual and a secondary chorus from the other. A recent example is at Spring Valley United Methodist Church, Dallas, Texas. We occasionally extend stops—commonly downward to 16’ in the manuals and occasionally upward. Stops so treated must not be considered substitutes for primary chorus material. In other words, the organ must stand on its own as a completely straight design before any unification is employed. Stops extended upward must have a character of tone such that if a straight stop were to be employed, the scale would be the same or nearly so. Thus, extensions of string stops are much more likely to be successful than extensions of diapason stops.

Unification should not replace the ensemble of straight voices; it should simply make them available in different ways. If a stop can be useful also in another place or at another pitch and if this does not compromise the integrity of the organ’s design then we believe it is wrong not to include the unification. Failure to do so limits the organist’s musical options. The real point of the straight organ design concept is having all of the necessary independent voices even if one must give up some attractive ones to assure good ensemble. Once this is achieved, there is nothing wrong with making the voices you have do double or triple duty. It is interesting to note that in organs of a century ago a solo stop might be contrived through the use of couplers. A stop name would appear on a combination piston, the function of which was to draw a stop, a unison-off coupler, and an octave coupler thus making a 16’ reed, for example, available at 8’ as a solo stop. One can conclude that the earlier builders were not against unification, they simply did not have the practical means to do it. Unification and other devices to enhance flexibility need not be used by organists who do not like them, but to leave them out of the specification is to deprive others the full use of the costly resources the organ offers. Players of other instruments are always searching for ease of control so that their energy can be concentrated on musicianship. Organists might be a happier lot by doing the same instead of idolizing the organ’s ancient limitations.

Conclusion

We may be entering the greatest era in the fascinating life of the organ. The improvement in substitute electronic instruments has released the organ industry from the burden of making cheap pipe organs for customers with low expectations. Builders are working more and more for those with cultivated taste who appreciate an artistic approach to the craft. Organs are seldom purchased as a piece of church equipment as they were in days past. Now there is a place for all types of high quality pipe organs from antique reproductions to historically informed eclectic schemes to modern symphonic instruments. If the organ is to progress musically, it will be through the further development of its expressive—symphonic—qualities and the realization that the organ is a wind instrument ensemble with great potential, not merely a sometimes-awkward member of the early keyboard family.

Reprinted with permission from the Journal of The British Institute of Organ Studies, Vol. 26, 2002. Peter Williams, chairman; Nigel Browne and Alastair Johnston, editors. Positif Press, Oxford.

Part one of two

Jack M. Bethards is President and Tonal Director of Schoenstein & Co. Organ Builders. A San Francisco Bay Area native, he holds bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the University of California at Berkeley. He has been a professional musician and is currently active in the American Guild of Organists. He is past president of the Associated Pipe Organ Builders of America and member of the American Institute of Organbuilders, the International Society of Organbuilders, the Organ Historical Society and the Association Aristide Cavaillé-Coll. He serves on the advisory boards of several organ preservation societies. In his 43 years of pipe organ work and research, Mr. Bethards has been a frequent lecturer and contributor of articles to professional journals. A major thrust of his study, including work abroad, has been romantic organ building in France, Germany, England and America. Schoenstein & Co. is the oldest and largest organ factory in the Western states. The Schoenstein family has been building distinguished instruments for five generations. The firm was started in the Black Forest of Germany in the mid-19th century and in 1877 in San Francisco. In addition to organ building, Schoenstein & Co. does restoration work specializing in historic organs including the Salt Lake Mormon Tabernacle Aeolian-Skinner organ.

I.

By the time the romantic era concluded in the 1930s, the organ, at its best, after centuries of progress, had achieved a level of musical expressiveness and technical sophistication that placed it in the mainstream of musical life. Its versatility in both accompanimental and solo roles earned it recognition as a standard and accepted medium not only for sacred and art music, but also in the commercial sphere where the theatre organ was a dominant voice. This is a condition of musical life hard to picture today since most of us grew up seeing the organ removed from the main stage and placed in the museum of early music. Even in the church, the accompanimental and emotional qualities of the organ often have been sacrificed on the altar of limited solo repertoire. I submit that the time is past due to pick up the traces where the great innovators of organbuilding left off and continue the development of the organ’s expressive qualities.  If the organ is to retain its centrality in the church and regain general acceptance elsewhere, the symphonic organ, which successfully addresses issues of performance flexibility common to other mainstream musical media, must again become a serious pursuit of organbuilders.

An analysis of the several decades’ cessation in the evolution of the organ should be the subject of another article save for two points. First, it must be admitted that one of the most compelling reasons for the success of the organ reform movement was the sheer number of bad romantic organs. I refer to those bereft of any connection with the age-old traditions of the craft--those either poorly designed or poorly made that only drew a caricature of romanticism. Second, the voluminous research into our glorious past has produced many superb and delightful instruments and a wealth of scholarship that most likely would not have resulted without time out for reflection. Therefore, it is safe to say that the value from this hiatus in the evolution of the organ offers enough positive points to balance the damage done to romantic organs in the wake of revision. It also has set the stage for what may be the greatest period in the organ’s history, a time when symphonic organs will flourish along with organs dedicated to interpretation of specific solo repertoire, each type serving in the appropriate context. In fact, in the last few years such a trend has begun to emerge. Among the younger generation of organ scholars, there is great interest in all types of music and all types of organs. It is even possible that the days of academic judgment of organs and organists based on style will change to that based on musicianship and quality.

The Symphonic Ideal

Putting musical concepts into words is nearly impossible, certainly so without commonly accepted definitions. I selected the word “symphonic” to describe both the most sophisticated developments of the romantic era and their further development today. Many have used the term “orchestral” to describe organs of the late romantic period, but this is misleading. It implies imitating the orchestra, and, in the case of a theatre organ, replacing it. This is not what the organ can or should do. The term “symphonic” implies certain musical qualities. If it can describe a type of orchestra it should be able to describe a type of organ as well. Few will disagree that the modern symphony orchestra is the most expressive of all instrumental media. To be fully expressive a medium must be able to transmit faithfully the intellectual ideas and subjective moods of the composer to the listener in the most minute detail. This is accomplished through form, rhythm, melody, harmony, dynamics, tone color, articulation, accent, and phrasing. Other things being equal, the best medium will provide the most precise rhythm, the greatest clarity of melody and harmony, the widest dynamic range, the greatest variety in tone color, and the most responsive control to provide articulation, accent, phrase, and form. Certainly our fine symphony orchestras have these qualities. Most organs do not. This is a shame, because the organ has the ability to surpass the orchestra in certain ways. First, the organ has a wider frequency range stretching octaves below and above orchestral instruments. Second, the organ has a unique tone color, the diapason chorus, an element of nobility and grandeur unsurpassed. Third, the organ has the sometimes dubiously applied ability for unlimited sostenuto. Used properly, this makes it possible to execute extremely long phrases (the grand line) as well as dramatic crescendi and diminuendi and exceptionally long ppp chords. The strings of the orchestra can come near this quality, but the winds and the human voice cannot. Fourth, and by far most important, the organ is under the control of one artist. No matter how great the orchestra or the conductor, different musical minds are at work. A skilled artist in control of a responsive organ can infuse a work with single-mindedness that is impossible with any group musical effort. Obviously, this advantage is even more important to the rendering of subtle accompaniments.

What great promise for expanded musicality the organ offers! This is certainly what drove organbuilders of the past to develop ever more expressive instruments. This quality is also what attracted huge audiences to the organ. But the challenges of realizing the full potential of the organ are great; perhaps some are insurmountable. The organ is, after all, a machine--sometimes a very large and complex one. No other instrument is less personal. Even on a modest instrument, the organist is separated from the pipes by enough mechanism to give the feeling of working by remote control. Consoles are often placed where it is impossible to hear balance and difficult to maintain rhythm. These and so many other roadblocks to musicianship lead one to believe that the organ is a monster daring people to tame it. Certainly the organist faces the most demanding challenge among all instrumentalists. Although it is deceptively easy for an amateur to make sounds of pompous grandeur and cheap sentiment, only an artist of great technical ability and depth of understanding can bring out the full expressive capabilities of the organ. If the organ is to become more accessible, it is important not only to develop its expressive range to symphonic proportions but to increase its flexibility and ease of control. 

Having briefly discussed the application to the organ of the term “symphonic,” meaning an instrument of greater expressive range than one designed for a specific part of the solo repertoire, we turn to the word “accompanimental,” which is equally important in this context. Most organs are in churches and most churches value accompaniments over solos. A good accompanimental organ requires all of the above-mentioned symphonic qualities. Actually, the requirements for accompaniment are greater than those for the romantic and modern repertoire. The organist is asked to accompany full congregations, professional choirs, children’s choruses, small ensembles of instrumentalists and singers, as well as soloists--all of these in music of every conceivable style, sometimes written for orchestra. The ideal accompanimental organ can provide any tone color or blend of colors at any dynamic level. An organ dedicated to early music and without effective enclosure cannot do it. How many times have we heard conductors say, “That’s a nice sound, but it must be louder,” or “You have the right volume, but can’t it be of a different quality?” Often the organist is at a loss to comply and must resort to adding or subtracting upperwork for loudness, and awkwardly transposing octaves to achieve a satisfactory tone color. Usually these and other tricks fail to satisfy the conductor who can only regret that he didn’t hire an orchestra in the first place. The best accompanimental organ must have the resources to make instant adjustments to fill the conductor’s requests in rehearsal and adjust to acoustical changes in performance. Without a well-placed and thoughtfully equipped console, this is often impossible. Many organs do not even have the wherewithal to accompany congregational singing, which requires an especially strong and prompt-speaking pedal bass to maintain tempo, and a dominant 8¢ line to lead melody. Most organs fail to deliver the most thrilling choir accompaniment effect the organ has to offer: that of full diapason and reed choruses under perfect dynamic control to match the level of any ensemble. Service playing often requires certain special effects as well, such as the heroic solo Tuba, the whisper-soft celeste, and quiet 32¢ tone. These effects are not strictly necessary on an organ dedicated to solo repertoire, but they are vital in church work. Musical scope is also important in church work because the organ must maintain the interest of musicians, clergy and parishioners week after week and year after year.

The need for expressive flexibility in accompaniment is perhaps the most important argument in favor of the symphonic organ, but there are others as well that apply in both sacred and secular venues. As a portrayer of the organ solo repertoire, the symphonic organ is obviously far more versatile than the repertoire-specific instrument. It is easier to fit pre-romantic repertoire to the symphonic organ than it is to fit romantic and modern repertoire to the classical or baroque organ. There is a direct comparison in the orchestral world: It is easier to give a musically convincing performance of a Mozart symphony with a modern symphony orchestra than it is to attempt a Mahler symphony with a classical ensemble of early instruments. Admittedly, an intriguing reproduction of what Mozart might have heard in his day is only possible with the classical orchestra, but a first rate performance by a modern orchestra should be every bit as musically satisfying.

The quality and architecture of tone can be loosely compared to the accent and grammar of language. If the structure (architecture or grammar) is solid, the color (quality or accent) can vary to a great degree and still preserve meaning. For example, Franck often requires an equally balanced duet between flute and trumpet. A neo-classic organ with a piercing Schalmey and a soft Rohrflöte cannot do justice to the music because the balance is wrong. However, a good Victorian organ with Cornopean and Claribel Flute can. A listener with an open mind can enjoy the performance with a different quality of tone because the architecture is in place. The Flûte harmonique and Trompette are ideal, but the English accent can be equally interesting and musically valid. By the same token a Bach trio sonata can be musically effective without a North German accent if the balance among stops is correct.

Being a vehicle for improvisation and an inspiration for new compositions are two related imperatives for the symphonic organ. The greater the range of expressive possibilities, the greater the desire to stretch one’s creative skill. Is it possible that a resurgence of inventiveness in symphonic organbuilding could ignite a burst of compositional brilliance and improvisational creativity as did the symphonic organ of Cavaillé-Coll? Since the end of the romantic period, most mainstream composers have ignored the organ. Could this be because of so many limitations and quirks? 

Finally we come to the question of solo transcriptions. Some argue that transcriptions deserve no place on organ recitals because the proliferation of symphony orchestras and the universal availability of recordings and broadcasts have eliminated the need for the organ to bring symphonic music to the masses. This is true; and it is good news because it releases the organ from the onerous task of performing music that is ill-suited to it. With performers free to select only that music which translates best to the organ, transcriptions can be presented as an art form in their own right. There are two good reasons to do this. First, hearing familiar music in a different medium is often enlightening. Sometimes aspects of the music are made more clear and benefit from a greater range of expression. Second, the organ, being under the control of one artist, can often render a more convincing performance than can an orchestra. There are pieces that I, for one, would prefer to hear in transcription. There is, however, one cautionary note. Transcription should only be attempted by the very finest artists. Of late there has been a bit of a transcription fad. Inferior performances of unsuitable repertoire have further bolstered the arguments of transcription naysayers. Therefore, since there is no need for solo transcriptions, they should be strictly limited to repertoire that is organistic in nature. (By the way, the same could be said of much contemporary church music: it is simply not organistic.) The only point to transcriptions in this day and age is to create an artistic result that is in the same league as the organ’s own repertoire. Even some very good musicians select poor material because in their mind’s ear intricate rhythms and the voicing of complex, dissonant chords are perfectly clear, even though they are not the slightest bit clear to the listener, who is without a score and hears only the sound produced. It is obvious that an orchestrator has a great deal more freedom than even the finest organist on the finest organ in voicing complex harmony throughout the range of an orchestra. Pieces that require this kind of orchestration should be left to orchestras. (Of course, even symphony orchestras have their limits, which are clearly shown when they attempt swing music at pops concerts.) There is a wealth of beautiful material available that is truly adaptable to the organ, and therefore broadens the organ’s repertoire.

Is there a single test of an organ’s symphonic qualities? Certainly the ultimate test is its usefulness and beauty in everyday work, but there is one quick trial that never fails to uncover holes in the fabric--the improvised build-up. If an organ can sustain interest over a long crescendo from ppp to fff, one which exhibits absolute smoothness with no gaps as tone colors merge, as patterns of rhythm, articulation and accent change, and as new pitches are introduced, the organ is likely to be able to perform well in a great range of solo and accompanimental roles.

Symphonic Design

There are seven characteristics that an organ must possess to be considered symphonic: variety of vividly differentiated tone colors; balance, both horizontal (tone) and vertical (pitch); clarity to define form and harmonic structure; wide dynamic range under effective control; a wind system that aids in rhythm and accent; an action system that facilitates accuracy, articulation, phrasing, and accent; comfortable, easy, and minute console control of all the organ’s resources. Note the conspicuous absence of imitative orchestral voices on this list. The symphonic ideal has nothing whatsoever to do with imitating an orchestra; it has everything to do with giving the organ the same power of expression that the symphony orchestra has. An organ can be symphonic without any of the voices that imitate orchestral instruments. The foundation and, indeed, the glory of the organ is its family of diapasons and other tones unique to the organ. The diapason chorus is to the organ as the string section is to the orchestra. It is its signature. The other tonal families add immeasurably to the organ, but without fully developed diapason tone, a symphonic organ is a failure.

September 18-20, 2003, College of New Jersey, Ewing

Domecq Smith is organist and choirmaster at Grace Episcopal Church, Plainfield, New Jersey, director of the Plainfield Girlchoir, and teacher of music at Cook School, Plainfield. A Meet the Composer Grant recipient, his works for brass and organ are published by MorningStar. His article on Bach's Fantasy in G was featured in the November, 2001 issue of The Diapason. He is married and the father of three children.

The wind blew. The rains fell. The people sat in darkness. And there was luminous music. Thus were the simultaneous beginnings of two forces: the arrival of hurricane Isabel on the East Coast and the opening of the 15th National Choral Conference at The College of New Jersey. Hosted annually by the American Boychoir and focusing on the choral art of children's voices, this conference attracts participants chiefly for two reasons: one, the American Boychoir, principal resident choir for this conference; and, two, the internationally recognized clinicians who in open rehearsals and workshops are featured each year. Kari Ala-Pöllänen, conductor and artistic director of Finland's famed Tapiola Children's Choir gave the downbeat on Thursday evening, September 18, as featured clinician, while Isabel moved from sea to land. Thoughts of external events faded quickly, however, as the rehearsal beginning with Finnish works gathered momentum. Fading quickly, too, were the stage lights due to a hurricane-induced power outage leaving choir, Pöllänen, and participants in ethereal, overhead emergency lighting midway through the rehearsal. Continuing with Bach's Wir eilen mit schwachen doch emsigen Schritten, music and light transported the choir to conditions closer to Bach's own St. Thomas Church than before. Visual sense yielded to aural and the choir's sound became infused in luminous warmth. It was a moment that seemed to confirm the power that great vocal music has in creating light of its own. This premise was to be severely tested when without warning emergency lighting failed altogether, leaving 82 choristers, conductor, accompanist, and participants in absolute darkness. Pöllänen, totally unimpressed by this turn of events (what is darkness to a Finn anyway?), pressed forward, urging the choir to sing from memory to the end. With the restoration of lighting a few minutes later and concluding remarks having been made by conference manager George Swope, some hurried with diligent steps to the exits while light was still to be had, and disappeared deep into the wind- and rain-streaked night to their respective destinations.  So was the opening evening of the 15th National Choral Conference. There were to be more power outages the following morning, but the worst was over and the architectural feature of a large skylight just behind the risers on stage guaranteed some illumination at least for the following morning.

Held annually since 1988, the National Choral Conference attracts choral directors from across the country. The high caliber of the American Boychoir, featured clinicians, and workshops have made attendance at this conference a yearly event for many of the participants. Some past guest clinicians include Gerre Hancock, George Guest, Doreen Rao, Henry Leck, Anton Armstrong, and Andre Thomas among others.

Upon return to the music building the next day, participants had the opportunity to meet directors of children's choirs during continental breakfast before the first of two major rehearsals showcasing the American Boychoir and clinician. Joining the American Boychoir on stage were members of the Princeton Girlchoir (Janet Westrick, music director), who have become a regular presence at this conference. After opening remarks and introduction by Vincent Metallo, director of the American Boychoir, Pöllänen once again walked onto the stage and took the combined choir through several warm-up exercises. These sessions, despite their informality, perhaps reveal most what clinicians value in choral philosophy, sound, and the processes which they utilize to arrive at their desired objectives. Pöllänen in his manner with the choir seeks less to electrify through his own charisma than to subtly draw out the energy and personality which he recognizes to exist independently in each voice. "We encourage their own personal skills and personal way of singing," says Pöllänen in describing his philosophy as director of the Tapiola Children's Choir. "Their personal way of singing is their strength, but we are trying to develop it so that it is flexible. We give them a great deal of responsibility."

Pöllänen is a contrast to the megawatt incandescence of recent clinicians to this conference. He does possess the requisite gravitas of artistic conviction coupled with the power to motivate, yet his artistic influence upon the choir operates in a manner that may not be readily apparent--like the irresistible progress of a glacier--imperceptible at first, yet ultimately hewing out deeply a musical landscape.

The works Pöllänen selected for this conference, some being signature works of the Tapiola Children's Choir, are likewise full of musical landscapes. The sheer complexity of some gives an accurate picture of what the Tapiola Children's Choir is capable of, and this is where the common understanding of the term "children's chorus" and what is normally associated with them, ends. "Since the founding of the Tapiola Choir in 1963, a great number of Finnish and international composers have since collaborated with the choir," says Erkki Pohjola, founder of the Tapiola Children's Choir. "And so a quite new and artistically high level of repertoire has been born, completely devoid of all the stock 'music for children' mannerism." Two of the works in particular, Aglepta and Jaakobin pojat (see below for listing of conference repertoire), both highly avant-garde and expressive, utilize the full range of capabilities of the voice as an instrument. A more conventional work which deserves mention is the beautiful Water Under Snow Is Weary which uses an old familiar melody from Kalevala (the national epic of Finland), known by every Finn as the Kalevala tune. A work of exquisite colors and shades, one encounters in this music the rare expression of that which is totally unaffected, genuine, and serene.

The second day was built around workshops. Participants had to choose one class from four different topics for a morning session and similarly for an afternoon session. Topics dealt with vocal pedagogy, fundraising, choral repertoire, choral sound development, etc. The culmination of the conference was the final concert featuring both the American Boychoir and the Princeton Girlchoir in combined and separate offerings of conference repertoire. Following this was a tour of the American Boychoir School.

Vincent Metallo, now in his third year as director of the American Boychoir has this to say about the National Choral Conference. "I think this conference will be very helpful to anybody who's a music educator, anybody who's involved in church music, anybody who directs children or even adults because what will be provided for them will be an incredible opportunity to see different clinicians and staff of the American Boychoir work with boys and or possibly girls in rehearsal methods, techniques, and conducting techniques. It will give them new ideas, new ways to reach out to their children, new ways to build their program. There's so much that I think is provided at a conference like this."

As to the future of this conference, organizers plan to take the next year off to rethink what this conference should do. When asked to describe the 15 years of this conference, Fernando Malvar-Ruiz, associate director of the American Boychoir and conference organizer called it "A beginning--the beginning of the National Choral Conference, and it's a cycle that has ended." According to Malvar-Ruiz, one can expect to see a different conference when the next one takes place, one that in his words will be focused more on "education and process than on result."

Midway through the conference, hurricane Isabel having subsided and the conference well underway, Pöllänen was kind to grant an interview. He spoke on a variety of topics ranging from the current state of music education in Finland to his early musical experiences. Here are some of his thoughts.

DS: What advice could you give to young choral directors today?

KA-P: How long of a lecture would you like to have?

DS: Could you perhaps say two things?

KA-P: It's very difficult to choose--there are so many things I could say, but first of all, I think they should have confidence in the children. I know many, many young conductors who have confidence mainly in themselves and perhaps, I hope, they have a basic idea of what they are doing. But they have to have confidence also in the children because the children can do much more than adults would otherwise believe. Just give them possibilities. Give them space to develop themselves. I think that is one very important thing which you have to do.

And the other important thing is that every children's choir conductor should analyze themselves. Why they are doing this work? Are they doing this for themselves? Are they using the children to make their own career or are they giving of themselves through their education? Many young conductors who perhaps have had a very good education approach their work in a very technical way. They don't think of it educationally. I think it is very important to realize that basically to conduct childrens' choirs is to educate--to give them a place to grow up. That makes a very big responsibility--very big--much more than in adult choirs, because if you have a good conductor of the children, you have with music the key to their souls. You can make a very big influence on them. And you have to know what you are doing and why, because if you do wrong things, that can influence them for the rest of their lives. Since they are children at that age, when they are in the children's choir, they accept and take many influences, good and bad. And what you can give them you have to give carefully. You have to consider very carefully the value of what you are teaching them. I think the music is not the main thing. I think the music is not the goal. It's a tool. It's a tool for education. And I think many conductors don't realize that. They just do the music and they are happy if it goes well and that's all. But the children receive from them many other things than musical things. And many young conductors, some older ones, too, don't realize that. They move many things through the children which are not very valuable. So, they have to analyze themselves--what they do, why they do this. I think that is very important.        

2003 National Choral Conference Repertoire List

The American Boychoir

Ave Regina Coelorum, Rheinberger

Psalm 150, David Willcocks

Daniel, Daniel, Servant of the Lord, Moore

The Princeton Girlchoir

Tutira Mai, (Maori folksong), arr. Anthony Ritchie

Shine on Me, trad. spiritual, arr. Rollo

Music Down in My Soul, African-American spiritual, arr. Moses Hogan

Combined Choir

Water Under Snow Is Weary, Harri Wessman

The Land of Music, Ikka Kuusisto

Let It Shine, trad. spiritual, arr. Ala-Pöllänen

Wir eilen mit schwachen, doch emsigen Schritten, J.S. Bach

Aglepta, Arne Mellnas

Jaakobin pojat, Pekka Kostiainen

Catching up with a well-traveled recitalist

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of THE DIAPASON.

Advocate and proponent of new organ music as well as transcriptions of older works, Stephen Tharp is one of today's most active concert organists, having already made over twenty intercontinental tours throughout North America, Europe, Asia, and Australia since 1987. He has held positions at New York City's St. Patrick's Cathedral and St. Bartholomew's Church, but at present forgoes a church position in order to focus exclusively on performing, recording and teaching. As a champion of new music, he commissions and premieres numerous new organ works--many of which are dedicated to him--including compositions by Thierry Escaich, Jean Guillou, Anthony Newman, Martha Sullivan, and Morgan Simmons. Stephen Tharp also promotes the transcription, having adapted, and often recorded, works from a variety of styles and eras, from Bach and Handel to Shostakovich and Stravinsky. The most recent of his six recordings, made at St. Sulpice in Paris, was the first commercially released recording by an American organist on that instrument. Stephen Tharp is represented by Karen McFarlane Artists.

We recently spoke with Stephen as he was preparing for another trip abroad.

JR: How did your interest in the organ begin? What was your early training?

ST: I first "responded to" music at the age of three, playing Christmas carols by ear on the piano from the radio and records. It was finally church music, however, that sparked the interest in the organ. I recall hearing this colorful, powerful instrument and thinking about how I absolutely had to learn to play it. Of course, my first teacher started me on the piano, which I think made me a little unhappy at the time. That was at the age of six. By age eight, the same teacher started me on the organ, and the two of us worked together on both instruments for the next several years, mostly at my home in Chicago.

JR: Age eight is an early start! --I'm thinking of the pedals here.

ST: I spent two years in piano. At age six I couldn't reach the pedals. By age eight, it was still a bit of a challenge, but I could start. My organ playing improved along with the piano playing. The transition time from doing one to doing both was actually kind of short. And at eight years old I was just barely able to reach the pedals too!

JR: So what things were you playing? Were you playing any repertoire, perhaps really easy things where you just had a pedal note here and there?

ST: I think the first real pieces of music were the Eight Little Preludes and Fugues, and not all of them. I've never practiced right hand, then left hand, then pedal, then do right hand and pedal, then left hand and pedal--because then you leave one out. You have to develop all three together. So I never did part practicing. No matter how long it took or how slow I did it, it was always everything at one time. Another thing was that I never went through method books per se, doing scales and things like that. There should be a musically relevant reason to attack any given technical issue. So if you have a particular technical challenge you want to hit, find a piece that targets it so that musically there is relevance to it.

By age eleven, I switched to a teacher named James C. Thunder, the director of music at Christ Church in Des Plaines, Illinois, again studying both organ and piano with him. It was Thunder who introduced me to a great deal of the mainline organ composers and their music, recordings of their music, and so on. After working with him for a few months, he made me a sort of "music assistant" at Christ Church, and in this capacity I learned and played on the organ many major anthem and oratorio accompaniments--Handel's Messiah and the Brahms and Mozart Requiems were among the first.

I stayed with James Thunder and Christ Church through 1985 when, at age fifteen, I became a private organ student of Wolfgang Rübsam at Northwestern University, perhaps to this day the person who, for many reasons, has had the greatest influence on my artistic temperament. It was Rübsam who introduced me to the discipline of intricate fingerings (somewhat ironic now, as I rarely ever write in fingerings at all), stylistic awareness and articulation in Baroque music and, most powerfully, the kinds of phrasing, rhapsodic gestures and rhythmic idiosyncrasies possible in Romantic music. I returned to Rübsam to do my graduate studies at Northwestern University in 1993, after four years at Illinois College in Jacksonville, Illinois for my B.A. in music. There I was very lucky to work with two wonderfully musical, insightful and imaginative teachers: Rudolf Zuiderveld in organ and Garrett Allman in piano, accompaniment and conducting. So many of my thoughts on lyricism, projecting musical structure and balance, etc., come from my time with them, and I must say that at a small liberal arts school I had access to perhaps a wider range of study than might have been the case elsewhere. This proved to be invaluable later, especially as I began traveling more and more to Europe. It was also at Illinois College that my interest in new organ works began. I had many opportunities to play a lot of music that was unpublished at the time. One particular performance at Illinois College of William Albright's 1732: In Memoriam Johannes Albrecht for Organ and Narrator, with Albright himself narrating, stands out. Jean Guillou's Hyperion and William Bolcom's Gospel Preludes Book IV are two further examples. There are many others.

JR: You were based in Chicago and then moved to New York and held positions at both St. Patrick's Cathedral and St. Bartholomew's Church, respectively, over the course of seven years. You then made the decision to "fly solo" as an artist without any church job. What prompted this?

ST: My move to New York City came in 1995, when I was appointed associate organist and director of cathedral concerts at the Cathedral of St. Patrick, where I stayed for two years in a prestigious but very busy position. I decided to leave there when my own career became busier and busier, at that point maybe two or three trips to Europe per season interspersed with U.S. concerts. I can honestly say, however, that much of what really boosted the success I was having already in Europe to another level was the position at St. Patrick's, and the people I met while I was there. Booking all the solo organ recitals was part of my duties as concerts director; there were occasions when organists would reciprocate by extending to me performing invitations overseas, and it was then that perhaps three tours a year began turning into five and six, a schedule that I maintain to this day. In late 1997, I became the associate organist at St. Bartholomew's Church, but only in a part-time capacity, which allowed me to continue my concert schedule. Of course, as the church continued to grow, so did the size of the position, and eventually I became full-time. Altogether, I was at St. Bartholomew's for just over four years. The music program there--everything from Praetorius and Carissimi's Jephthe, to Christmas concerts with The American Boychoir and Jessye Norman, to the U.S. premiere of James MacMillan's Cantos Sagrados and the N.Y. premiere of Howells' Hymnus Paradisi--is truly staggering for a church of its size. Therefore, when I made the decision to leave there in 2002, it was far from an easy one. But my performing schedule became simply too large to manage alongside a full-time position. It came time for me to focus all of my artistic (not to mention physical!) energies in one direction instead of several.

JR: These days it seems your career is based more in Europe than in the United States. Is this by choice? How did it come about?

ST: It is ironic that, as an American organist who plays about 60 concerts a year, the majority of them are elsewhere in the world. This was never really intended, but strangely enough, it has turned out that way. For one thing, I began playing publicly on a large scale much earlier in Europe than I did here. My first European concert was in London in 1989 at The Royal Albert Hall. Subsequent trips to England, then The Netherlands, then Germany, then France, really got things going, and they continued like a domino effect.

There is also what is known as an "association factor." I think that without having something like a major competition prize or a well-known teaching post, you don't necessarily get the same kind of attention for what you do. In an ideal world, this should not be such an important factor, but marketing is never that simple. Thanks to JAV Recordings and the Organ Historical Society, especially their websites, all six of my commercial recordings are very easy to find and obtain. And it goes without saying how wonderful it has been with Karen McFarlane Artists since 1998. Of course, we live in an era when massive amounts of information are bombarding you from all sides.

JR: How much are you on the road? What kind of performing schedule do you keep?

ST: It really depends. There are factors such as how many concerts are a part of any given tour, how many different tours are planned close together, how much travel is happening back and forth from the U.S., and what is going on in between--in other words, is there "down time."

Let me give you an example of how extreme it can become by describing my activities during the fall of 2002. Fall seems to be the heaviest time for traveling and playing. Following late August recording sessions at St. Luke's in Evanston, Illinois, I began in early September (four days after the recording) by playing an organ and orchestra concert in Krakow (Bielsko-Biala), Poland, consisting of the Piston Prelude and Allegro for Organ and Strings, and the Jongen Symphonie Concertante. This was followed by a few concerts in the Czech Republic and Germany with a more "mixed" general program, including Mendelssohn, Handel, and Karg-Elert. Next was a concert at St. Laurent's Church in Diekirch, Luxembourg (the oldest church in Luxembourg) on a beautiful new North German-style instrument by the builder Seifert of Kevelaer, Germany. That concert consisted of Bach, Bruhns, Buxtehude, and Murchhauser. Three days later were two concerts as part of the Merseburg Organ Festival, but with all American music, which they requested. This particular invitation arose at the last minute, while I was in Chicago recording at St. Luke's. Karel Paukert, who had been scheduled to play but had to withdraw at the last moment, graciously recommended me as his replacement for the concerts. I was lucky because these two dates, back-to-back, happened to be within a gap between Luxembourg and the other concerts that followed Merseburg elsewhere in Germany, although it was now necessary to "cram" in music that, in a few cases, I had not actually played in quite a while, and with only two days to prepare before the first of the concerts. Those consisted of Buck, Paine, Parker, Hurd, Newman and Sowerby. The rest of the tour (which spanned three and a half weeks altogether) meant a great deal of train travel and concerts roughly every two days as far north as Norden and as far south as Frankfurt.

During October, I went back to Europe with a second fall tour that began at the Passau Dom, which houses the largest organ in Europe. The highlights there were the premiere of my newest commission at that time, Thierry Escaich's Trois Poèmes, and a superlative work by Jean-Louis Florentz called The Cross of the South. Two days later at the Arcore (Italy) Organ Festival, I played my organ adaptation of Bach's Goldberg Variations. Thereafter came more of the Passau program in Innsbruck, several cities in southern Germany and then Strasbourg. To conclude this trip, I was in residence for a week at the Hochschule für Musik in Trossingen, Germany, at the invitation of organ professor Christoph Bossert, not only teaching his students in masterclasses on Vierne, but then performing as part of a theatrical concert of live improvisational dance with the dance department students, featuring live organ improvisation as the incidental music "in reaction to" the stage improvisation.

In November, I made my second trip to Australia, playing in Sydney and Adelaide, and concluded everything with a December Christmas concert at Spivey Hall in Atlanta, the last of several U.S. performances between the trips to and from Europe and Australia. In addition, I have been "guest teacher" at the Hochschule in Stuttgart when in Europe but not actually playing somewhere, and also at Yale University when in the States for a longer stretch.

This is not always the norm, but when it rains, it pours, and my upcoming calendar already indicates that this kind of agenda will happen more frequently. A lot of that has to do with the freedom with which I can now plan my concerts without a regular church job. Usually, larger tours are put on the calendar as far in advance as two years, and so a festival or organization will say, "Oh, this is your date and concert? Well, this is our theme, so you will play this and this and that." Put enough of those close together for when you are in Europe at one time, and your schedule fills very quickly! But, I love it.

JR: Do you find any differences between American and European audiences? You've said that they are larger in Europe.

ST: Right. In general that's true.

JR: Can you talk about European attitudes and their appreciation of your playing the organ, and how you plan your programs for a European audience versus here?

ST: It's very interesting. Of course, everything you do has to be accessible to your audience, but I don't believe that we're beyond being able to educate someone or at least spark their interest in hearing things that otherwise they wouldn't have considered. You know, when you push envelopes, other people who want to do something similar don't necessarily stretch themselves as far as you might, but they'll stretch themselves farther than they would have otherwise, just because they see a bigger realm of what's possible. I think more of that is ingrained earlier on in European audiences. Consequently, I have found that overseas you can get away with a lot more experimentation, and that allows you to be somewhat more adventurous with new music or transcribing.

Transcribing can mean so many things; I've seen people do transcriptions of Schoenberg on organ. I saw someone--Bernard Haas, from Stuttgart--do a transcription of one of the Five Orchestral Pieces of Schoenberg at St. Eustache the same week I was in Paris doing my St. Sulpice recording, which was October 2001. And he did it from memory, with double pedal, triple pedal playing, all of these things that were so intricate, yet he kept the dynamic level very contained and small, based on the chamber quality of the original piece. And people just ate it up, and in a sense it was the most adventurous thing on the program, and while there were many organists present, there also were a lot of people who came because it said "organ concert"--but it was a very intensive 20th-century program, with some Webern transcriptions, and some of Jean Guillou's pieces, and then the Schoenberg in the middle, and people were just perplexed by it. But there were more comments, questions, and curiosity about that work than anything else on the program, and it certainly was the most envelope-pushing piece.

To try to do something like that over here, it depends on how you present it and how you talk about it first to your audience. But it seems that certain kinds of transcriptions are much more popular here than 20th-century music and yet in some ways 20th-century music, especially in certain circles in Europe, has always been more popular than transcriptions. You hear a lot against transcriptions with these kinds of dogmatic black and white ideas about what a transcription should be: is it necessary, why are we doing this if you have all this music of Bach, is a transcription anything compared to that? I've found that I can introduce a transcription to a skeptical European the way you try to do the same thing with modern music for an American audience, and if you do it the right way, I think you can sell something new or at least get people curious.

JR: Tell us your thoughts on commissioning new organ works.

ST: I had a very special experience while I was still in high school. My earlier studies, both organ and piano, engaged fewer pieces for longer periods of time than would be the case later as my technique advanced. So, when I worked on a piece, I really lived with it for a long time before it went before anyone except my teacher.

At one point, I had spent about a year with James Thunder on Aaron Copland's Piano Variations when, one day, after a lesson, Thunder said to me, "You know, Copland is coming to Chicago to give a lecture at the Cultural Center downtown. I made some arrangements this morning on the telephone--do you think you'd be up to playing this for him next week?" Well, I was not about to be stupid and say NO (which Thunder knew), although the idea scared me to death (which Thunder also knew). Even at that age, I could grasp what it meant to play something important for the composer himself, much less Aaron Copland! After six more days of polishing my memorization, I attended the lecture at the Cultural Center and was introduced to Copland afterwards by my teacher. A half an hour later, I sat down in a private piano studio some blocks away at Roosevelt University and, nervous as a ninny, played the work for Copland. He was extremely kind, complimentary enough that I still enjoy talking about it, especially about the fact that I was, as he put it, "crazy" enough at my age to have memorized it, insightful on tempi, some phrasing, and so on. But, the one major awakening was how incredibly inspiring it is to sit down with the source of a creation and share thoughts on it, the ideas that sparked it, concepts and such related things. That was a turning point for me, as it also spawned a real hunger for more music that was new, different, fresh, and intense, sometimes vehemently intense.

At that age, I found pieces that were off-the-wall, learned them, and played them in recitals because I felt a need to do so. What I began to learn was that, when you present something "dicey" to an audience, even knowing that all or many of them may be hearing it for the first time, you get further with that audience by talking to them about what they will hear and why they would want to hear it, even again and again, than you do by just handing them written program notes. Once you do this, the audience feels that there are good reasons for being curious about something that will be not only unfamiliar, but also likely push a few envelopes too, and that this is a positive and enriching thing! If you play down to your listeners, especially with your choice of programming, like they're dumb, then they will respond that way a lot of the time. If you show them that you trust their minds and ears enough to KNOW that they can be interested in what you are offering them, people tend to be more open-minded for you. Despite a lot of thinking these days to the contrary, when it comes to "modern music," I still find this to be unmistakably true, if you as the presenter handle it the right way.

Put all of this together with the opportunities to meet and work with more and more living composers that really began at Illinois College, and the result is a list of varying and remarkable works that I feel privileged to play as often as I can. There is a very challenging three-movement pedal solo work called Sequentia Pedalia by Chicago composer Morgan Simmons, which he gave me in manuscript just prior to my appointment to St. Patrick's in New York; Anthony Newman, one of my best friends in the world, and one of my most devoted supporters, has written three very large but different works for me of brilliant intricacy (these get played perhaps the most frequently and are always very well received); there is Jean Guillou's massive and intense seven movement symphonic poem called Instants (his second largest solo organ work), improvisational but thematically interwoven, written for my concert at King's College, Cambridge; and a jazzy, witty piece based on Bulgarian folk rhythms for organ, percussion and women's chorus called Slingshot Shivaree, composed for a program at St. Bartholomew's called "Organ Plus" by my friend Martha Sullivan. She is an especially talented composer whose star is on the rise, with her works being performed all over the U.S.; there is the haunting and nostalgic 4-movement Sinfonietta by Philip Moore of York Minster, England; and the most recent to date, the Trois Poèmes by Thierry Escaich, works of pure genius, contained electricity with balance and proportion. There are more to come, the next being in 2004 from Bruce Neswick.

JR: About your championing of transcriptions: You've recorded a number of transcriptions, including a good half-dozen of your own.

ST: Right.

JR: What originally got you on the transcription bandwagon? And how do you prepare these? Do you write them down note for note, or do you just sketch them out for yourself? Would you consider having any of them published?

ST: There are several issues here. I have not actually written down anything per se; there's nothing that exists in any formatted way. Usually the bigger transcriptions are the most complicated ones that would take the most work--things that are orchestral versus piano, like a symphony, the Shostakovich 5, or the Petroushka dances, which are all marked from the full scores. You go through and find the things that are more important in the texture, and then find out by process of elimination what you have to take out, because obviously with two hands and two feet there's only so much you can play. So you must decide what to keep and what has to go--and how to eliminate things in an orchestral score so that you can play it on the organ without changing the piece or leaving out something important.

Through looking at a score that I've marked up, I work it up slowly and memorize it, and then essentially play the transcriptions from memory. So none of them are actually written out; they're just marked-up adapted full scores.

In the end, as crazy a process as that sounds, it ends up being easier come performance time, because there's too much to follow and certainly to have an orchestral score in front of you, to have someone try to page-turn that would be crazy. It's very distracting to try to read ten lines of a score while playing and doing registrations and keeping your focus in front of an audience. Anything that limits other senses is more focused--in other words, by playing from memory, the other senses become more acute, because the visual distraction of looking at a page and reading something takes away from the ear, takes away from things that are tactile. So playing from memory certainly hones in on what you feel under your fingers, what you listen to, in a different way. This is never more important than in a very complicated transcription. That's one reason I've never actually written anything down.

Another reason is that a lot of the repertoire is not really of interest to publishers; they don't think it's mainstream enough to sell. So, no, at this point, nothing is published. I think at some point, if either a publisher decides they would like something specific or if I could get a couple of players who were interested in a certain transcription, then I would take the time to write something down.

JR: Your repertoire is very diverse and you strive to present each piece with a sense of stylistic awareness. What then are your thoughts on organ transcriptions vs. organ repertoire, and on performance practices? As a performer, how do you strike a balance among these?

ST: I have some very specific and passionate thoughts on this. To start with, I think that the art of transcription is very important, and it is ironic that it gets both incredible support and simultaneously a great deal of criticism nowadays.

Realize that when we say transcriptions, we are not just talking about Danny Boy, Ave Maria and Flight of the Bumblebee. We are also talking about large-scale, often mainstream repertoire that demands as much care and subtlety from an organist as it would from a pianist, a singer or an orchestra. Art at a very high level transcends its chosen medium. It is not just a matter of whether or not the organ becomes an orchestra, a piano, or anything else.

A successful transcription should not sound like it is a transcription, but rather be idiomatically adapted to the new medium while preserving the soul and stylistic context of the original in a carefully struck balance, and this is why transcribing is such an art form and anything but trite. I would challenge those who flippantly dismiss transcriptions as circus tricks as not understanding these ideas on a very profound level, nor having experimented with transcriptions enough personally to see what is really possible, and how. Consider the Bach-Vivaldi Concerti, several Liszt works that began on piano or organ and then went the other way, in the composer's own hand nonetheless, or the most obvious example, Mussorgsky's piano work Pictures at an Exhibition (transcribed later by other composers for a medium of immense color possibility, and now part of the standard orchestral repertoire). So, ultimately, we do accept transcriptions--we always have. Moreover, awareness of style must be applied here too--transcription does not always mean swell boxes, string divisions and tubas. Take for instance Bach's Italian Concerto or his Goldberg Variations. I have had as much musical satisfaction from playing these on organs by Fritts, von Beckerath, Gabler, Fisk and so on, as I have had sitting at a great E.M. Skinner with the Liszt B-Minor Sonata or something as monumental as the Shostakovich Symphony No. 5.

For me, all of this leads to a larger issue, and that is how we often see performers "mixing menus," which just confuses everything. I once heard an organist pull out stops at 8', 4'and 2' on a neo-Baroque organ and make his way through Elgar's Nimrod on that one sound, and briskly at that, like it was just this pretty piece to play for the audience, and that was enough. It was evident that the player did not understand anything about the intimacy of this music, or that perhaps this was not the right organ for it. On the flip side, I recently heard a Bach prelude and fugue played with all the swell shades flapping around like window blinds in a storm, with as many pistons as there were notes and Romantic rubato everywhere. Although the result was extremely musical in its own way, the total change of esthetic was so foreign to the score tha