Well-Tuner's Fest

Herbert L. Huestis is a contributing editor of THE DIAPASON.

Most of the time, pipe organs and pianos share equal
temperament--at least in theory. Compared to an average piano tuning,
organ tuning is a massive job. Organs are relatively easy to touch up, but a
major operation to tune thoroughly. A number of factors are critical for
accurate organ tuning, including temperature, location and condition of the
pipes, the accumulation of dirt, and wear and tear. In addition to these
factors, it is just plain hard to get around in them. One must manage walkways,
ladders and work in scary places. Hardly any piano tuners have fallen off a
piano or dropped their tools in the strings, but we often hear of organ tuners
taking fateful trips down ladders or worse, winding up in the pipes!

Some years ago, I learned that it was not a very good idea
to change organ tunings on a whim. An organist might ask a tuner to lay on a
Werckmeister III tuning, so they can hear what Bach should really sound like.
After the enthusiasm for Bach has worn off, the next organist to take that job
will insist that the organ be returned to equal temperament. (Don't ask
me how I know that these things can happen.)

It is unfortunate that what passes for equal temperament on
many instruments is really no temperament at all. The sound is all a jumble.
Other situations occur, where tracker organs that should be well-tempered bleat
unmercifully with equal thirds, and lovely turn-of-the-century heirlooms howl
in baroque temperament. So often, the punishment really does not fit the crime,
and perfectly good tunings are wasted in the wrong places.

More organists have come to realize that tuning is an art,
and pleasing musical results come to those who invest time and attention to the
details of a well constructed and pleasing tuning. A good tuning is more than
theory and strategy and hard work. It is understanding of what is possible and
taking some effort to achieve those possibilities.

This is where the piano tuner comes in. If an organist is
going to understand temperament as it applies to his instrument, a good place
to start is with pianos. Historic temperaments are manifold with many different
names and variations. They are represented by lists of numbers that may defy
rationality and sometimes beg the question of authenticity. Who is to say the
numbers are right, when many versions of each temperament make their claim to
be authentic? Scholarship is sadly lacking.

Machine tuning is often used to set temperament with varied
results, depending on how good an aural tuner the technician is. The best
tuners never abandon aural tuning--in fact tuning by ear is still the best
source of a superior tuning. Both equal and historic temperaments can be set
with an electronic tuning device, but the real test of any tuning is the way
the intervals work. Theoretical tunings may be derived by study and transmitted
by tuning charts, beat rates, or deviations from a theoretical point. But in
the final analysis, it is the ear of the technician that makes the decision to
go flat or sharp. In my own experience, I look for logical relationships
between intervals, no matter what the name of any tuning.

This is the direction in which organists can go as well.
When they hear a fine instrument, the tuning should also make an impression.
It's not a matter of sour notes, but how the stops of the organ sound
both in the quality of the pipes and the tonality of the ensemble. Temperament
contributes purity, harmonicity, and overall aesthetic satisfaction. The sound
of the finest organs will contribute immensely to an individual's musical
understanding and appreciation.

In addition to listening to fine organs, some experiments
can be made with pianos in a church setting. When these instruments are tuned,
purely equal temperament can be set aside in favor of historically derived
tunings. This does not mean that they must be severe. In fact, some of the most
delicate temperaments are very close to an equal distribution of intervals.
However, the deviations they display are intentional and often the result of
the best tunings of bygone technicians. If nothing else, they displace random
errors in favor of intervals that lean the right way for a musical result. A
good example of this type of tuning are "Viennese" or
"Victorian" temperaments. They are found on reed organs and other
19th-century instruments.

In addition, there are well-tempered tunings of a more
moderate nature that are appropriate for romantic or classic (but not baroque)
organs. They are often derived from English sources, such as
"Broadwood's Best" and "Handel's
Well-Temperament." These tunings give good key color and favor the white
note triads. They also have the excellent feature of providing consistent ear
tests and do not require the uncritical setting of pitch according to the dial
on a machine. Yes, you can use your ears when tuning these temperaments. And
your ear will reward you when you play the music.

Organists can open up aural vistas with pianos at hand by
arranging for their tuner to assist with well-tempered tunings. This is not to
be confused with changing pitch. Piano tuners are taught to maintain pianos at
A=440 and should be encouraged to do so. It is not hard to find a tuner who has
an active interest in historic temperaments, since this subject is an area of
lively scholarship and discussion in conferences of the Piano Technician's
Guild, the parent organization for most piano tuners. A search for the right
technician will be well worth the effort. Organists will be rewarded with
instruments that "teach" them how to listen to music.

After some time with pianos, the question of the ultimate
tuning of the organ can be considered with much more clarity and logic than
"tuning on a whim." It is far more likely that good insight and
perceptive decisions will prevail.

If one may indulge in melodrama, one might refer to "The Curse of Equal Temperament" when commenting on the method of tuning that steadfastly refuses to take into account the relationship between an instrument, its music and player. "Equal" is tuning for the sake of tuning, done by successive generations of tuners who practice their craft exactly the way they were taught to do it, no questions asked. And the whole business has been cast in cement by electronic tuning devices--ETDs--in widespread use today!

Looking back over the past two centuries, we can take note of several events that contributed to this situation. They include the invention of tuning forks, the industrial revolution (with its myriad of factories that produced musical instruments) and the emergence of ETDs such as the Conn Strobotuner.

Tuning forks as we know them appeared in the early 1800s. Their fixed pitch enabled a reference to specific frequencies for tuning of musical instruments; tuning practices previously had varied widely by region and nationality. Tuning forks were a valuable resource for the stabilization of tuning everywhere. By the end of the 19th century, they were used for temperament tuning in the great piano houses such as Broadwood and Moore.

The turn of the 19th to the 20th century was surely the golden age of the piano, and in North America the houses of Steinway and Heintzman represented a pinnacle of musicality and at the same time promoted the artisanship of factory craftsmen unparalled in our own times. The revival of the organ as an "authentic" instrument would wait some fifty years, and with it the same emphasis on tuning as an integral part of a musical instrument.

Thinking back on the piano and its artists of the early twentieth century, one can reflect on the incredible tuning of these instruments, made for Rubinstein, Horowitz, Richter, Gilels and so many others. Pianism was almost a cult, and the tuners who worked on these instruments behind the scenes contributed a rare form of art to the piano. They defined its sound, its carrying power and its musicality as surely as the artists who played it so superbly.

With the revival of the tracker organ, tuning once again became an integral aspect of the musicality of these instruments. Temperament is most carefully thought out by artisan organ builders today with or without the help of tuning machines.

Machines? Yes, the same tuning devices that began with tuning strobes evolved into electronic displays of one sort or another, as varied as one might imagine. To some extent, they displaced "aural" tuning, so highly valued within the community of piano tuners and technicians. Unfortunately, some tuning practitioners passed "go" on the Monopoly board and skipped ear training by jumping into machine tuning as a quick means to an end. However, fine tuners the world over incorporated tuning devices into their tool kit as important aids to the musical ear that was already hard at work. It is this kind of practitioner that exemplifies the best in the tuning business.

The "curse" of machine tuning is that it implies that equal tuning is mathematically precise, and that the ear is irrelevant to the outcome of setting a temperament. Semantics are everything, and it is something of an understatement to say that "equal" tuning is not at all equal! An artistic tuning, whether in a baroque temperament for Bach cantatas or a modern tuning for a Rachmaninoff piano concerto, is anything but equal. It is what the music demands. A marvelous example is the use of the Vallotti temperament for performances of Beethoven's "Emperor" Piano Concerto. Yes, it works very well. One can only marvel at the work of the world's best piano tuners on the concert stage. The tuner's ear is alive and well in our finest recordings and live concerts--as it should be in the presentation of our finest pipe organs.

The "blessing" of machine tuning is that it provides the opportunity to record "best" tunings for various instruments and occasions--for tuning devices are not only tone generators of various pitches with an array of mathematical relationships, they are recorders, too. They make possible the quantification of any kind of tuning, from pianos to organs to gamelans. They are, in a sense, the power that destroyed some important aspects of tuning by ear, but they are also the force that brings back aural tuning. This is a happy conundrum that should be exploited for all it is worth.

The tuning device as recorder provides the opportunity to use temperament in an artistic manner to give expression to the best qualities of an instrument (and sometimes, to suppress the worst ones). For example, a concert grand piano in a large hall derives carrying power from vibrations generated within the temperament, as well as the soundboard and case of the instrument. For this reason, mild temperaments with more- and less-pure thirds benefit these pianos if they are speaking in a vibrant hall. On the other hand, a pure temperament can go a long way to smooth out a small piano with short strings that are full of false beats. Try that on your spinet in the choir room. You will be amazed at the improvement in sound!

Some practical considerations for the tuner

For the benefit of the reader who is truly interested in investigating the benefits of 19th-century (or earlier) temperaments with the help of machine tuning, this last of three articles will be devoted to the practical application of tuning techniques. Since it is widely available at low cost, the ETD (Electronic Tuning Device) of choice will be Robert Scott's TuneLab97 software, available at <www.tunelab-world.com&gt;. A basic computer and sound card are also required. With this tuning program, there will be a set of historical temperaments that offer a wide range of options for the tuner. Temperament files are extremely simple. They are notated in cents deviation from an equal distribution in this manner:

Representative Victorian Temperament (Moore)

C   2.5

Cs  0.0

D   1.5

Ds  1.0

E  -1.5

F   2.0

Fs -0.5

G   3.0

Gs  0.5

A   0.0

As  1.5

B  -1.0

Armed with this modification to equal proportional tuning, the tuner can proceed to lay bearings for a temperament. Fear not! I am not going to give the reader blow-by-blow instructions on how to tune. But it is important to note that most tuning failures result from tempering the wrong intervals first! Therefore, with this temperament one can follow the practice of using F, A and Cs tuning forks to divide the circle of fifths into manageable portions, so that one will not choke on a cumulative error. In this case, A and Cs may be set from tuning forks A=440 and Cs=277.18. "A" is used to embark on the white notes in the circle of fifths, and Cs is used for the black notes. As a rule of thumb, the intervals involving black notes are tuned first, pure or nearly so, and the intervals involving white notes are tempered and tuned last. Follow that rule, and you will avoid the trap of "reverse well" tuning.

The tuning fork F=349.23 completes the triad of foundation notes. In well-tempered tuning, "F" will be raised to provide the desired effect of the third F-A. Generally, the F-A and C-E triads will determine the nature of the well-temperament desired, whether mild, moderate or intense, as in the baroque temperaments. This is where the sound and character of the instrument and its music come in.

If one is tuning "equal" temperament, the thirds F-A-Cs¢-F¢-A¢ provide a very useful octave and a third in which to lay the bearings. These thirds will increase their vibrations as they ascend. This is one of the tests used in setting equal temperament. Conversely, in laying well-tempered bearings, the thirds will alternate in vibrancy between white and black keys. F-A will be slower than equal, A-Cs will be the same as equal (13.7 cents wide), Cs-F will be faster than equal, and once again, F¢-A¢ will be slower than equal. So far, the only adjustment has been to sharpen "F" to make a relatively slow third F-A.

Once this has been accomplished, one should tune Cs-Fs-B relatively pure and Cs-Gs-Ds-As-F relatively pure, monitoring the computer screen while one tunes these notes. Then, tune A-E-B and A-D-G-C-F relatively tempered, while monitoring each note on the computer screen. This will provide well tempered bearings, while applying tuning tests to the process. There will be little chance of a cumulative error of any significance.

Since the tuner is applying aural tests as well as reading a computer screen or a dial tuner to monitor progress, this work can be carried out at the organ console or the inside of the organ case, or preferably both. A tuner's assistant can do much more than hold keys. It is very helpful if they monitor an ETD while the tuning is in progress. This prevents errors and speeds up the tuning.

Which temperament to use?

There are literally hundreds of temperaments from which to choose, so it is very useful for each tuner to develop criteria which work for them. Several points are worth consideration.

It is most helpful to adopt a temperament that allows equidistant bearings for the tuning of a circle of fifths. The F-A-Cs method provides this option in both well and equal tempered tunings.

Another consideration is the provision of various degrees of purity within a related group of well tunings. An example of three temperaments that progress from mild to moderate are Moore, Peter Prelleur, and Young (1799). All are based on zero deviation in cents for the notes A and Cs, and increased purity for the triads C-E-G, F-A-C and G-B-D.

One may take into consideration the balance of triads in a symmetrical or non-symmetrical array. A symmetrical array of triads will increase vibrancy in direct proportion to the number of accidentals in each key. Asymmetrical triads will favor certain keys and are more consistent with harpsichord tunings where temperaments are chosen for specific literature.

Blessing or curse: from anathema to good fortune

If one looks upon machine tuning as a curse for its illogical suppression of musical values (modulation being the first victim), the descendants of strobo-tuners must bear a heavy burden of resentment. However, the computer and its dedicated mechanical brethren have rescued those who still tune by ear by providing the means to record their "best" tunings, and experiment with the most musical tunings for each instrument. Credit must be given to a significant group within the Piano Technicians Guild for their unflagging efforts to promote both aural tuning and the use of unequal, "well" and nearly-equal temperaments. A review of the comments of these technicians reveals a dedication to musical performance that stands as an inspiration to organ technicians and tuners as well. Commendation and approbation is also well deserved by artisan organ builders who have often stood alone in a sea of indifference by insisting that temperament and tuning are significantly related to each musical instrument they produce. There are many organ builders who will not resign their instruments to "ordinary tuning and care," but who steadfastly maintain their own instruments so that among other things, the tuning will be preserved. Bravo (!) to these dedicated builders.    

Hearing a pipe organ tuned in a sympathetic temperament is
like discovering fine wine after a lifetime of roadhouse coffee. There is
simply no comparison between the delights of pure tuning and the frustration of
cadences that beat unmercifully, no matter what the key or modulation.

When the listener does not hear this woeful tuning,
psychologists call it habituation. In other words, the average person does not
hear the inharmonicity of equal tuning because they know nothing better, and
have come to accept the ragged chords that have echoed in their ears for so
long as normal everyday music. One may take a holiday from equal temperament by
listening to a barbershop quartet for a dose of close harmony. Or take in a
concert on an organ made by an artisan builder who regards tuning as an
integral part of the instrument, reflective of its true baroque heritage. This
journey is worth the expense of rethinking all that we have taken for granted
in years past.

Ironies abound in the world of musical bias and each new
discovery can be delicious. In the late 19th century, we find a reliable bearer
of tempered tuning in that most unassuming of instruments, the reed organ. Free
reeds can hang on to their original tuning at least as well as cone tuned
pipes--in fact, they suffer less from wear and tear. Pump them up, and they
continue to play with the same sweet harmonies that their original tuning gave
them.

There are some aspects of 19th-century tuning that are tantalizing
indeed. Victorian temperaments are nearly equal, which means that in the
tradition of well-tuning, they render harmonious chords in all keys, though not
without individual key color. They are subtle, providing tension and relaxation
behind the scenes, rather than by the blunt contrast of sheep and wolves, as in
baroque temperaments. Their intervals gently progress from calm to agitated,
depending on the complexity and remoteness of each key. Somehow, they walk a
fine line between purity and utility. It seems that their particular strength
is modulation, where the prime keys assert themselves like the sun appearing
through cloud or the calm after a storm.

Of late, Victorian models of tuning have become popular with
both piano technicians and organ builders. The late 19th century was no less
rich in its diversity of temperaments than the 17th and 18th centuries.
Although theorized very early on, equal temperament was a child of the
industrial revolution. Perhaps it was the factory production of musical
instruments that propelled it into nearly universal practice among tuners and
musicians. Studies of ethnomusicology have informed us that the practice of
equal tuning was unique to western civilization and that other cultures
simultaneously developed far more rich and complex modes of intonation.

As we reflect on the revitalization of early music and an
increased regard for performance practice, we take equal tuning less for
granted. The realization that tuning methods have varied tremendously according
to time and place has awakened our ears in such a way that we can now explore
the world of sound and imagination, unfettered by musical prejudice. Take the
challenge: play through the modulations of your favorite 19th-century composer
and see what a "less than equal" temperament does for the music!
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 

Three practical considerations

If one is going to change an organ from equal to
well-temperament, it should be an operation that is undertaken with
considerable planning. One should consider the nature of an appropriate
temperament and what music will be the primary repertoire. It is important to
look at the objectives of a major change and to evaluate the musical results,
insofar as possible, ahead of time.

The sound of an organ goes a long way to dictate temperament.
Compatibility of organ building style and repertoire are major issues. If equal
temperament is one frustration among many, the organist must decide if a change
to well temperament is going to help change musical values for the better. It
is comforting to know that even a spinet piano can be satisfying when tuned in
a historic temperament. By the same token, there are many organs that will
benefit immensely from the natural harmonicity and increased resonance of a
carefully chosen temperament.

Once the decision is made, one should not use the
"candy store" approach to the selection of a temperament! It is a
good idea to seek out a consultant who has the sounds of various tunings in his
ears. Experience can be most helpful! There are several practical matters that
should be considered when evaluating the pros and cons of various tunings:
balance of thirds, regular or irregular intervals, and shared tuning with equal
temperament.

Balance and width of thirds (in cents)

The reason for tuning in well-temperaments is to achieve key
color. As a composer calls for various keys with a lesser or greater number of
accidentals, the key color is expected to change from pure and restful chords
to vibrating and agitated harmonies. These shifting key colors are relatively
subtle, perhaps even obscure to the layperson, though quite obvious to most
musicians. As one evaluates diverse temperaments, the issues revolve around the
amount of key color desired and the achievement of an even balance that
increases the frequency of beating thirds in accordance with a greater number
of accidentals, both in sharp and flat keys.

Circle of fifths: regular or irregular intervals

This consideration is often overlooked until one makes music
with orchestral and chamber players. Regular intervals ensure the best tuning
of obbligato instruments because the transition from various intervals within
the temperament is predictable and intuitively correct. Some well tunings have
a fine balance of key color, but present such irregular intervals that out of
tune playing by ancillary instruments is unavoidable. It is not a reflection
upon the players--actually, the more experienced and intuitive the players are,
the more likely they are to have difficulty with irregular temperaments. It is
precisely the "anticipatory" nature of "tuning on the fly"
that causes the problem.

Certainly, the best chamber players always tune with the
continuo for each open string or major interval, usually in a circle of fifths.
If that circle of fifths is predictable, things go well. If each successive
fifth is a bit wide or narrow, almost at random, how is an instrumentalist
going to remember the exact tuning? "Regular" temperaments solve this
problem by the use of predictable intervals for the circle of fifths.

Convertible or shared tunings

This is a special consideration where a well temperament
will actually share part of the circle of fifths with equal tuning, usually the
notes A-E-B-F#-C#. These five notes may be tuned exactly the same in both
temperaments! In an equal temperament, the remaining seven notes are tuned in
the same ratio as the first five. However, in a convertible or shared
temperament, the remaining seven notes are altered to the new temperament. The
benefits of a shared tuning are considerable, particularly if the instrument is
to be tuned back and forth between well and equal tuning. This is often the
case with a continuo organ which is featured in various temperaments and often
at various pitches from one concert to another.

Graphs

It is very helpful to see these relationships in a graph, as
well as text and numbers. It has become very common to express numeric
relationships among various temperaments in terms of deviation in cents from
equal temperament. This is not because equal temperament is best or right, but
because each interval is a mathematical division. Thus, a rendering of equal
temperament is not given as a "norm," but as a mathematical point of
reference.

Using an electronic tuning device vs. tuning by ear

It is ironic that tuning in equal temperament became
standard practice about the same time as electronic tuning devices became
commonplace professional tools. At this time, it may be said that most tuning
of musical instruments is done with an electronic reference. That is not to say
that "tuning by ear" is no longer practiced, but aural tuning has a
new perspective, to "test" temperament rather than set it. Before the
reader jumps to any conclusion, it should be emphasized that the "art of
tuning" is still very much intact, and fine piano and organ tuning has not
suffered at all. The very finest tuners still use their ears, and the machines
are just another tool in the box.

Paradoxically, the resurgence of well temperament coincides
with the widespread use of electronic tuning devices and computerized tuning
programs. Virtually every device available offers a synthesis of historic
temperaments that are available at the touch of a button. One might argue that
this enables those without sufficient ear training to "tune" various
instruments--it also enables quick and precise tuning by professional
technicians who have more than enough ear training to do the entire job without
an electronic tuner. It is very advantageous to move from theoretical considerations
to practical application  so easily
and effortlessly. It is a conundrum, but a happy one. Without electronic
assistance, historic tunings would be sufficiently tedious that they might well
be left undone.

Tuning by ear remains indispensable. The name of the game in
tuning is to reduce error--especially cumulative error. "Tests" are
the most important aspect of any tuning. They keep the tuner on the straight
and narrow, and prevent compound or cumulative errors that seriously degrade an
artistic tuning.

Recommended computer programs

Two fine computerized tuning programs are Robert Scott's
TuneLab program, available from Real Time Specialties, 6384 Crane Road,
Ypsilanti, MI 48197 ([email protected]) and Dean Reyburn's CyberTuner,
available from Reyburn Piano Service, 2695 Indian Lakes Road, NE, Cedar
Springs, MI 49319.

These are devices for tuning both historic and equal
temperament. Cost varies from less than $100 to about $900, depending on the
range of software desired. The best feature of these programs is that each
historic temperament file may be edited with a word processor. Other electronic
tuning devices are available, usually with pre-programmed historic
temperaments. The author suggests that they be compared on the basis of
accuracy (up to 1/10 cent) and the ease of programming various temperaments.
After that, there are issues of cost, portability and so forth.

As an aside, one may also consider style of tuning. The
author prefers the use of not one, but two electronic tuning devices--a
portable one to use inside the organ and a fixed unit at the console to monitor
tuning as the job progresses. This keeps the tuner's helper quite busy at both
organ and computer keyboards and reduces cumulative error by a considerable
amount. 

Historic tuning on the Internet

Bicknell, Stephen. A beginner's guide to temperament.

www.users.dircon.co.uk/~oneskull/3.6.04.htm

Bremmer, William. The true meaning of well-tempered tuning.

www.billbremmer.com/WellTemp.html

Foote, Edward. Six degrees of tonality; The well-tempered
piano.

www.uk-piano.org/edfoote/well_te mpered_piano.html

Gann, Kyle. An introduction to historical tunings.

http://home.earthlink.net/~kgann/his tune.html

Greenberg, Bernard S. What does "well-tempered"
mean?

www.bachfaq.org/welltemp.html

Kellner, Herbert Anton. Instructions for tuning a
harpsichord "wohltemperirt." 

ha.kellner.bei.t-online.de/

Palmer, Frederic. Meantone tuning.

home.pacbell.net/jeanannc/mpro/art icles/MeanTone.htm

Rubenstein, Michael. Well vs. equal temperament.

www.ma.utexas.edu/users/miker/tun ing/tuning.html

Taylor, Nigel. Tuning, temperaments and bells; The
ill-tempered piano.

www.kirnberger.fsnet.co.uk/   

The Organ Historical Society held its forty-second annual convention in Portland, Oregon, from Sunday, July 13, through Saturday, July 19. Here are, first, a kind of organ travelogue and, secondly, some broader considerations evoked by the organs and the playing.

Convention headquarters was the Best Western Rose Garden Hotel,  across the Willamette River from downtown Portland. Accommodations were certainly adequate, as was transportation. So was the food, when we finally got it. Future convention leaders really must insist to caterers who are seemingly geared for bar mitzvahs and weddings that there be four food-serving lines, and if possible a single seating. Only in this way can 200 OHS convention-goers keep to their tight schedule of organ demonstrations and bus rides, and possibly have the chance of a short walk before the next scheduled activity. It is also worth noting that as the OHS ages so do its members; it is cruel to keep the oldest of them standing a long time in line. Because of a disagreement between the hotel and the convention leadership, the exhibits and evening social hour had to be transferred to the shop of organ-builder Richard Bond, with a shuttle bus. Later the René Marceau shop was opened for a social hour as well, but it appeared that the need of using the after-hours bus resulted in lower attendance. In general, the painstaking, thoughtful southern hospitality of the 1989 New Orleans and 1993 Louisville conventions remains an ideal well worth keeping in mind. But on to the music.

Sunday

The convention opened at 3 pm on Sunday the 13th, with Michael Barnes playing the 1870 Derrick-Felgemaker "portable organ," which has a diapason and a dulciana to tenor F, a stopped diapason bass that is always on, a manual super coupler, and a 17-note pedal coupler. It was played at Westminster Presbyterian Church, Portland, although Mr. Barnes owns the instrument. He was assisted by Susan McBerry, soprano.

The next event was Karl Mansfield's demonstration of the 1887 Cole & Woodberry at St. Andrew's Lutheran Church, Vancouver, Washington. (Vancouver is across the Columbia River from the Portland area. Portland is at the meeting of the tributary Willamette and the "really big" Columbia.) This II/23 instrument was rebuilt in 1996 by Jeremy Cooper of Concord, New Hampshire; it was relocated through The Organ Clearing House, as were many of the instruments heard at this convention.

It is noteworthy, indeed, that only two of the old instruments we heard at the Portland convention are in their original locations. It may well be that, as more old churches close, relocation is the shape of the future.1 It seems that there was an original stock of tracker organs set up during the later 19th century, but that few of these remain.2 The earlier stock of tracker organs yielded in time to electro-pneumatic instruments of varying merit and to the ubiquitous electronic substitutes. These, evidently, are yielding in turn to new tracker organs as well as to a significant number of old trackers transplanted from points east.

The third Sunday event was a program of Reform synagogue music presented by John Strege, organist and choral director, with Judith Schiff, soloist, and a vocal quartet, at Congregation Beth Israel, Portland, using a 1928 Reuter organ with five divisions, one of them a floating string division.

On Sunday evening, Douglas Cleveland presented a recital of French romantic and post-romantic music, including the entire second symphony of Louis Vierne, at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral. The instrument there is a 1987 III/89 of Manuel Rosales; one local organ enthusiast described it as being a true "magnet" for the organ art in the Portland area. Because of previously set travel plans I was unable to arrive in Portland before late Sunday evening; but I heard that Sunday's happenings were something for the builders, rebuilders, movers, singers and players--and their local fans--to be justifiably proud of.3

Monday

Monday the 14th began with a lecture on the organ history of the Pacific Northwest by David Dahl, professor of music and university organist, Pacific Lutheran University, and director of music at Christ Episcopal Church, both in Tacoma, Washington. He emphasized the importance of the installation, in 1965, of a large Flentrop organ in St. Mark's Cathedral, Seattle, under the leadership of then organist Peter Hallock. This, along with other, smaller European instruments gave impetus to local builders to begin using north German models, and ultimately, according to Professor Dahl, to a climate of opinion wherein the first choice of the educated northwest organist will be a tracker organ. Organ "reform"--the term is deliberately used--is primarily a reform back to the northern 17th or 18th centuries.

The next two presentations provided examples for Dahl's lecture. The first was at St. Mark's Cathedral (Anglican Church in America) in Portland where we heard a III/44 by Werner Bosch of Kassel, Germany. We are particular indebted to Mark Brombaugh, who at the last minute substituted for the ailing Delbert Saman. Mr. Brombaugh also showed off a thoroughly charming Dutch chamber organ from around 1790, restored with new casework in 1982 by Frans Bosman.

Then we moved on to Beaverton, Oregon, and St. Andrew's Lutheran Church, where William Porter (professor at The New England Conservatory) gave a fine short program on an excellent 1994 instrument (II/20) by Tacoma Builder Paul Fritts. One sensed here a thoughtful and successful adaptation of the baroque model, designed for the large, hard-surfaced European church, to a not-so-large and rather dry American room. Professor Porter improvised, and played Bruhns and Buxtehude expressively, in a manner suggesting improvisation. One assumes improvisations listed in a program are pieces not written down (as opposed to made up on the spot); that, too, is doubtless authentic baroque practice. There are beyond question countless baroque masterpieces known now to the angels alone, but Professor Porter's pieces, known to us, too, were enthusiastically applauded.

On Monday afternoon James Hammann of New Orleans gave (handsomely as always) an all-Mendelssohn program on the 1890 II/13 Kilgen at St. Pius X Catholic Church, Portland, which organ was moved to its present location in 1985 by Bond Pipe Organs. This small but refined instrument (22/3' and 2' but no mixture) suited the Mendelssohn very well. On other occasions OHS audiences have heard Dr. Hammann play elaborate numbers; they would have been out of place here, so he offered the short Mendelssohn pieces instead.

Next came the demonstration of a similar instrument in St. Thomas Moore Catholic Church, Portland. In this case Bond in 1982 somewhat altered a 1914 Kilgen, but was constrained by the congregation to locate it in a thoroughly unsuitable place, a sort of organ cave behind the main altar. Portland organist Thomas Curry did the best he could in an interesting program of period pieces by Walter Spinney and Wenham Smith. But the sound fall-off from cave to nave was most regrettable; one hopes the owners will sacrifice some nave pews to better sound. Smith's variations on Beecher, one of the finest, most dramatic variation sets by a 19th-century American, thus lost much of their impact.4

After St. Thomas More's we went to St. Patrick's, Portland, where Dean Applegate first played briefly on a small English organ (c. 1875, unknown builder, two whole and two half ranks), restored by Bond. But the main attraction was Mr. Applegate's Cantores in Ecclesia, a choir of women, girls and boys who under his direction performed a program of 20th-century British music for treble voices. An excellent accompaniment was provided by Douglas Cleveland, who was asked to do this on short notice.

The final event of this busy day was also a kind of double-header, if not triple-header. In St. Mary's Catholic Cathedral Bruce Neswick played first the 1996 II/19 Martin Ott organ in the chancel and then the III/41 Los Angeles Art Organ (Murray Harris) instrument in the rear gallery. The latter organ seemed to be a kind of conventioneer, too, having migrated here from San Francisco, where it was heard in the 1988 OHS convention. It was rebuilt in 1996 with some additions by Bond, and Mr. Neswick's choice of (among other things) Brahm's Prelude and Fugue in A minor was particularly apt for showing it off. As a closer, this artist and Oakland organist and composer Ronald McKean improvised a passacaglia using both organs.

Tuesday

Tuesday, July 15, began with a lecture on OHS-sponsored European organ tours by executive director William Van Pelt. Then we went to All Saints Episcopal Church, Portland, where we heard Cheryl Drewes, the incumbent organist, give one of the most musically satisfying demonstrations of the convention--and on one of the most satisfying instruments. The Bond firm enhanced an 1892 Jardine organ, adding, subtracting and moving assorted ranks (now II/15); the result is dramatic, well suited to the room. Some observers did wonder a bit at Bond's penchant for enameling organ pipes white: they tend to remind one of objects not normally associated with the organ.

Oh happy day: the next presentation was also one of the musically most satisfying of the convention--David Dahl's demonstration of a five-rank, divided single-manual Hinners of 1915. This was in the Presbyterian Church in Aurora, south of Portland. In repertory ranging from Francisco Peraza (d. 1598) to Haydn, Dahl made skillful use of the divided keyboard. The church's pastor, Mary Sue Evers, made a very telling point about getting people to play it: if they got a decent though small pipe organ they stood a much better chance of getting a credible musician for their worship. After hearing the Hinners we heard an excellent lecture on the Hinners firm by Allison Alcorn-Oppedahl. Her remarks had the considerable merit not only of discussing the Hinners instruments, but of incorporating many more social-science reflections than remarks by organ historians usually do. Hinners organs were cannily marketed  to a market that came (the small, usually rural church) and then went.

After an ice-cream social and a longish bus ride to Vancouver, Washington, we next heard Marilyn Kay Stulken ably demonstrate a one-manual, eight-rank Moline organ of 1879. Since this organ did not have a divided keyboard, Ms. Stulken made very creative use of a stop-puller assistant; her selections ranged from John Redford to Johannes Brahms, and this little 8-4-2' instrument handled them remarkably well, provided one overlooked some problems of tuning temperament. The final event of the day was also in Vancouver, at St. Luke's Episcopal Church, where Paul Klemme played organ solo numbers and accompanied trumpeter Gerald Webster on a II/17 W. K. Adams' Sons (Providence, RI, 1890), rebuilt and modified by Bond (1985).

Wednesday

Wednesday, July 16, opened with the annual meeting of the Society, presided over by outgoing president Kristin Farmer. We were encouraged to hear that the OHS is in good financial shape, but reminded--friends of the OHS, take note--that a substantial and necessary part of the Society's income comes from book, score and CD catalogue sales. The OHS now has a web page. When the ballots had been counted Barbara Owen emerged as the new president, with Scot Huntington as vice-president, and Michael Barone, Lois Regestein and Peter Sykes as new board members. Michael Barone, producer of the public radio series Pipedreams, also received the Distinguished Service Award. The 1997 Biggs fellows (recipients of an award designed to aid in attending a first OHS convention) were Joseph McCabe of Buffalo and Nicole Bensoussan of San Diego, both of whom are seventeen. Next year's convention will be in Denver (June 21-27), and that of 1999 in Montréal.

After the meeting we went to Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Portland, to hear an 1885 II/12 instrument, builder unknown, rebuilt with additions by Bond. Perhaps because of excessive carpeting and its location under an arch, it sounded rather thin. Where there seems to be a problem with the marriage of a relocated organ--or any organ--and its church the listener must, of course, take into consideration that the OHS are often an SRO crowd of sound-absorbers. The scheduled demonstrator, William Schuster, was detained, and while we awaited his arrival David Dahl accompanied an impromptu hymn-sing. Mr. Schuster's billing of four slight pieces by André Fleury as "An Organ Symphony" rather stretched a label. (It should be noted in passing that Fleury composed two real symphonies.)

Next stop was St. Ignatius Catholic Church, also in Portland, where Timothy and Nancy Le Roi Nickel presented a duet program on a (now) II/17 from around 1880, builder unknown, rebuilt in 1901 by Kilgen and rebuilt again in 1982 by Bond, with notable additions. The duet players did well, but they might wish to consider whether what is executed as a duet actually sounds like a duet, that is, with two real musical contributors in it. In piano duet-playing this is more readily evident, but the many levels of organ pitch tend to produce many notes but not necessarily the impression of two executants.5 Alas, our players were assigned a gallery organ, and part of the fun of duets is seeing them done.

Next came Grant Edwards's demonstration of the instrument in the Presbyterian Church at Milwaukie, an 1898 Pilcher rebuilt to II/13 by Bond in 1992. It is, in its present reincarnation, a handsome instrument, placed in the corner of a kind of liturgical stage in a fairly reverberant room. Mr. Edwards made it reverberate, but he and other players might consider that the repertory the "little American organ" does least convincingly is the French baroque.

The afternoon ended with a roller-skating session at the Oaks Roller Rink, Portland, while Don Feely played the four-manual 1926 Wurlitzer, formerly in the Broadway Theater, Portland. But the Wurlitzer is out in the middle of the rink with no swell boxes. Here once more is an instance of an equivocal situation for the player, listener and reviewer. We have to be grateful the thing was done at all, that is, the organ preserved, and yet we can easily think of cogent reasons for doing things differently.

After supper came what many at the convention considered its finest event, the recital by Peter Sykes (Longy School, Cambridge, and New England Conservatory, Boston) on the 1883 Hook & Hastings II/20 located in the Old Church concert hall, Portland, and restored by the Bond firm. Player and organ were superb. The first half of the program consisted of C. P. E. Bach's Sonata 6, Mozart's K. 594 Fantasia, a "Canzonetta" by G. W. Chadwick, and Lemmens's "Fanfare." After an intermission came Mendelssohn's Sonata 6, two short chorale-preludes of J. S. Bach, and a rousing rendering by all of J. S. Bach's harmonization of "Jesus, Priceless Treasure." For the Old Church Society, Inc., Delbert Saman accepted an OHS Historic Organ Plaque. Not least in this instrument's attractions is the fine restoration of its front pipes in brilliant red, green, blue and gold. It is worth noting, too, that Sykes followed the old OHS custom of providing a handout listing the registrations used. Before this recital people were recalling with pleasure his 1987 recital in Newburyport; now, no doubt, they will also fondly remember this one.6

Thursday

Thursday, July 17, started with a demonstration by James Holloway at St. Paul's Lutheran Church, Castle Rock, Washington. The instrument is in the orgue de choeur, or chancel, manner, built in 1990 by Frans Bosman, II/15 with additions prepared for. The 8' foundations together were delightfully clear. As for the tutti, all this organ needs is a "French" room; the whole ensemble (at least to this listener) tended to split into its elements, though again one must consider the acoustical effect of an SRO crowd.

The next demonstration was by James Denman, at Epiphany Episcopal Church, Chehallis, Washington. The organ was a II/10 Lancashire-Marshall of 1895, renovated in 1979 by the late Randall McCarty. In the same town we heard an 1890 Koehnken & Grimm, II/12, restored by Huestis & Associates and S. L. Huntington & Co. in 1993. The demonstrator was Joseph Adam. The silver pipes stenciled in crimson and dark green and the butternut casework were particularly handsome.

After lunch we traveled to Cathlamet, Puget Island, where in Our Savior's Lutheran Church Jane Edge ably demonstrated a fine I/9 Roosevelt of 1895 relocated from Katonah, New York. Her program included one of Mozart's church sonatas, K. 336, in which she was assisted by violinists Anne Edge and Phyllis Kessel and cellist Mary Flotree. Her program also included a community rendition of "Roll On, Columbia," one of the songs the Bonneville Power Authority hired Woody Guthrie to write in 1941 to popularize their dam.7

After returning to Portland we next heard a truly magnificent instrument, a 1916 E. M. Skinner IV/49, built for the Portland Civic Auditorium, restored in 1971-75 by the late David Bruce Newman, and now located in an auditorium at the Alpenrose Dairy. After a prayer and the singing of the national anthem we saw a short Laurel and Hardy silent film, quietly accompanied by Paul Quarino. Then came supper as guests of the dairy, and then a recital by Minneapolis organist Robert Vickery. In a series of mostly short pieces Vickery showed off a great variety of lovely Skinner sounds. Since this was an evening recital one could have wished for musically more developed numbers. Opening the chamber-access doors for the closer, a slight Firmin Swinnen toccata, seemed in poor taste; Skinner certainly did not aim for the threshold of pain with sheer loudness. We can hope that this fine instrument, created for a site significantly larger than its present home, will some day find a more suitable one.

Friday

On Friday, July 18, the first demonstration was by Charles Rus of San Francisco, using the 1904 II/13 Möller in the First Christian Church, Albany, Oregon. With its elegantly curving woodwork, this little organ is one of the most attractive pipe-fence organs I have seen. Mr. Rus' selections were well chosen to show off the instrument and very well played; they included a Buxtehude praeludium (pace temperament!) and what one listener called an attractive example of "90s American light," Three Pieces by Craig Phillips, tonal though dissonant, lively, thinly scored.

We next visited St. Mary's Catholic Church, Corvallis, Oregon, which has an 1892 II/20 Jardine rebuilt and altered by Bond in 1986. The demonstrator was Portland organist Paul Wood Cunningham. Also in Corvallis we heard another Portland organist, Lanny Collins, play a program of Orgelbüchlein chorales on the robust II/28 Noack installed in 1980 in the First United Methodist Church. Quite robust as well is the 1996 II/27 Bond in Cone Chapel (a large classroom, really) at Willamette University, Salem, Oregon, which was demonstrated by Marian Ruhl Metson.

One the way back to Portland we stopped at St. Anne's Chapel, Marylhurst College, where Tamara Still demonstrated a fine large Bozeman instrument, built in the French romantic style in 1994, III/37 with additional ranks prepared for, incorporating many ranks from a 1901 Hutchings-Votey. Back in Portland we were treated to another of the especially satisfying musical happenings of the convention, a demonstration by Michigan artist Mary Ann Crugher Balduf of an 1851 Henry Erben organ, which is in the "Chapel Hall" of the First Presbyterian Church and appears to have been in Portland since some time in the 1860s. With expert, split-second assistance from stop-puller Brian Buehler, Ms. Balduf used the one manual and six ranks with great imagination.

Friday ended with a program of recently composed works, including some of his own, performed by Ronald McKean on the 1996 II/37 Bond instrument (incorporating many pipes from an 1881 John Bergstrom) in Holy Rosary Catholic Church, Portland. The rich plenum includes a seven-rank mixture on the great--this in a high-ceilinged, reverberant hall. This instrument and the one in All Saints Episcopal Church were among the favorite Bond instruments heard. The presence in the pews of little plainsong hymnals (Liber Cantualis) suggested the possibility of alternatim literature involving the whole assembly, but that was not to be. Too bad, since so much baroque organ music (and Boëly, too) was meant to be used that way.

Saturday

The last day of the convention, Saturday, July 19, started off pleasantly with Will Headlee's demonstration of the 1913 II/18 Hinners in St. Charles Church, Portland. The attractive and reverberant room let shine what elsewhere might have been a rather bland instrument.8 Next we took a longish trip south to Mt. Angel Benedictine Monastery, in a striking hilltop setting, where of course we sang Engelberg and where Beverly Ratajak demonstrated two instruments. The 1966 II/16, built by Martin Ott for the monks' choir, was meant to accompany their sung office, which we heard it do, but its sound does not carry well into the nave. This is doubtless why the abbey has commissioned the Ott firm to begin, in 1998, a three-manual tracker in the rear gallery. Also heard was a delightful little three-rank instrument, now in a meeting hall, built in 1896 by one Joseph Speldrich, a dairy farmer working for the monastery. After a stop at the Eola Hills Winery we heard Barbara Baird of the University of Oregon, Eugene, demonstrate the 1972 Ahrend IV/51 in Beall Concert Hall at the University. The temperament is Werckmeister III, which gave Sweelinck's "Est-ce Mars" variations rather more sprightliness than they often get. One wished Boyvin's suite in the first tone had been alternated with a sung (or failing in that, a played in unison) Magnificat or Gloria, which would have presented the integral musical form.

Concluding the convention was the John Brombaugh instrument in Central Lutheran Church, Eugene, III/51, 1976, but altered by the builder in 1983, 1989 and 1992. The demonstrator was Margaret Evans of Southern Oregon State College, Ashland. The day ended with a round of applause for convention chairman Cliff Fairley and his colleagues, including program chairman Tim Drewes.

The Portland convention differed somewhat from many earlier OHS conventions. To be sure, the Pacific Northwest, like other large sections of the United States and Canada, simply does not have that many old organs. Given our national inclination to discard organs perceived as old, if they had fewer to start with, they now have even fewer left. Thus the 1997 convention heard, it appears, just about all the old organs--still in the original site, or transplanted--in the geographic area selected for the convention. Of particular note and a cause for celebration is how these old organs are loved and cared for; I did not hear a single organ that was not, it seemed, in a good state of repair. Many of the thirty-nine organs heard, however, were actually quite new instruments, or instruments that had been not restored precisely but rebuilt, so that even if this latter class of instruments contains more or less of old components, they are effectly new instruments.9 What we encountered in Portland, one might say, is along with organs an organ idea, an idea that has always figured in OHS concerns but that figured here more prominently. It is that tracker organs, often with a north German flavor, are the good organs, no matter what their age. One wonders if for some folks they are good for you like Saabs, Birkenstocks and benignly fertilized vegetables: when you get them you will be reformed.

The choice of organs to be heard in the Portland area inescapably tended to impress on the auditor, reformed or not, how tonally different organ-reform organs are from the area's stock of unaltered old American organs. As to choice of organs, we were led to wonder further how many admirable instruments might exist in the Portland area that are old, more or less, but just not trackers and/or in some manner baroque in tonal design. Of the thirty-nine instruments heard there were only three non-trackers, the 1928 Reuter, the denuded 1926 Wurlitzer, and, most importantly, the 1916 E. M. Skinner. Of course, if the number of unaltered old organs, whatever their type, were to be the criterion for holding an OHS convention in a certain area, and if that number were pegged to the level of the Northeast, then no convention would ever be held in Portland or other areas lightly endowed with old organs. That would not be good either for these areas or for the OHS at large. However, when a convention is held in such an area it would be well to aim for the greatest conceptual clarity attainable, and recognize that organ reform is not good organs tout court, but an idea, or complex of ideas, about what makes a good organ, and about which there remains some disagreement.10

The juxtaposition of truly old American with organ reform organs, the greater number of them being small to medium-sized two-manual instruments, leads to two further considerations.

First, one of the strengths of the Portland convention was that it offered the possibility of hearing baroque literature in other than equal temperament. Naturally, it sounds much better that way. Might we go a step further and ponder whether pre-equal-temperament literature sounds wrong played in equal temperament?11 I do not propose to answer that question, but several strategies come to mind. Might churches in a community or a denominational administrative area agree informally to offer different temperaments and literature? Or maybe the wave of the future laps on the shores of Cathlamet, where an interesting group of people with a one-manual instrument are considering installing another one-manual instrument: what if the second one were to be tuned in mean-tone? Some of the organists we heard seemed to think that "full organ" meant using most or all of the stops (and especially in passages where it wasn't needed, the 16' pedal reed). But might not a medium-sized organ, dedicated to the disciplined player, include alternatively tuned ensembles? In one of those tutti frutti OHS programs designed to show the prospective electronic-substitute buyer that a little American organ from 1895 really can play all manner of music, Sweelinck sounds "all right," but with a certain wistfulness one recognizes that he sounds much better out of equal temperament. The other side of this thought is that 19th-century instruments are better employed in doing 19th-century and later music, with judicious selections from the 18th century.

Secondly, a staple of OHS demonstrations--and properly so--is the program made of short pieces, miniatures. It shows off the possibilities of the instrument, and does it fast. Hearing a week-long succession of such demonstrations, necessary as they may be, does get you  thinking. Specifically, is there a danger that a procedure for a quick demonstration might become a musical ideal, the notion that organ music consists of miniatures, either versets or dance-movements, or fantasias put together from short-winded expositions? As anyone familiar with the problems of the opera composer knows, whereas under driving emotion words contract, music expands. Music is naturally expansive, both in opera and in music history generally. In other words, the so-called symphonic organ and the invention of various sorts of playing aids resulted from a real musical felt need, and not from the invasion of the organ world by wicked engineers. One hopes that future convention leaders and players, particularly those entrusted with the longer, evening recitals, will show us more instruments and literature characterized by a certain expansiveness.12 (The Cleveland and Sykes recitals set a worthy example.) To be avoided is the impression that the OHS fancies little instruments that do little snippets of music, and do them sometimes in tunings that would make the composers wince. Such an impression would, of course, belie the actual breadth of outlook found in the OHS, which is thus a good reason for taking care not to create it. The organs are the stars, yes, but they shine brightest in a heaven of clear musical thinking. One of the best achievements of the Portland convention is that it stimulated thinking about the organ art.

Notes

                  1.              Transplanted organs, often, are not spared the paradox that now affects so many old, now restored objects: all cleaned up and placed in rather antiseptic surroundings, they lose what Edith Wharton called the "rich low murmur of the past." Fast and Loose & The Buccaneers, ed. V. H. Winner (University Press of Virginia, 1993), p. 369.

                  2.              In 1870 prosperous Portland had some 10,000 inhabitants. Cf. Judy Jewell, Compass American Guides: Oregon (Oakland, 1996), p. 42.

                  3.              For the instruments see remarks by Barbara Owen and Alan Laufman in "OHS to Visit the 'City of Roses'," The Tracker XL: 1 (1997), pp. 6-7; and also Lee Garrett, "American Organ Reform in Retrospect," part II, The American Organist XXXI: 8 (August, 1997), pp. 74-75. For the convention programs of July 13 see "Dulciana's Diary," first autumn, 1997, issue of The Stopt Diapason (news-letter of the Chicago Chapter of the OHS).

                  4.              My copy is found in W. E. Ashmall, ed., The Organist's Journal, vol. I (New York, 1889-90), pp. 53-60. The title page lists Smith as active at Henry Ward Beecher's Plymouth Church in Brooklyn and carries the dedication, "To the memory of a Great and Good Man." Beecher had died in 1887. Variation 8 is entitled "Funeral March on the death of a hero." So Smith took an upbeat view of Beecher's legal problems.

                  5.              Robert Cundick's Three Pieces (Concordia, 1991) are a model of the kind of texture I have in mind.

                  6.              Hook & Hastings installed five organs in Portland between 1872 and 1886. This is the only one left. There are those, this writer included, who think the Hook & Hastings instruments of this time (and a little before and after) are the finest of all American work.

                  7.              Jewell, op. cit., p. 224.

                  8.              The church furnishings here were turned sideways, so that the altar is now on what was formerly the "gospel," or left side of the nave. It would not always work, but this is certainly a thoughtful way of getting more of the congregation closer to the altar while leaving the organ in place. (In this case, however, an organ was relocated from another church to the space originally provided for a pipe organ.) In sum, this rethinking of the nave makes it a theatre as opposed to a pseudo-medieval hall.

                  9.              Alas, two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time, so 19th-century aeolines yield their chest space to upperwork. Still, there has from time to time been some debate as to whether aeoline-like ranks served as overtone-making "blending" stops and as such are integral to various registration combinations. In this view they are not just for giving pitch to the choir and additional piquancy to ministerial prayers.

                  10.           Garrett, op. cit., p. 77, wisely comments, "The important thing is that builders from both traditions [tracker and electric action] are talking to each other in a fashion not known 30 years ago." In time this more ample, generous reading of organ history will doubtless become more widely accepted.

                  11.           In time the organ with a 17th-century stop list and a 19th-century tuning may well be seen as a kind of compromise, just as some now view the more or less baroque stop list played with an electric action.

                  12.           I do not mean recitalists should yet again inflect their graduation recital on the OHS, as has occurred from time to time in previous years; if they are going to expand something, let it be their repertory.

Symposia held April 7–9 by the University of Nebraska-Lincoln

Herbert L. Huestis is a graduate of the Eastman School of Music, where he studied organ with David Craighead 40 years ago. After a stint as a full-time church organist, he studied psychology and education at the University of Idaho, where be obtained his Ph.D. in 1971. He spent time as a school psychologist, and was subsequently lured back into the organ world and took up pipe organ maintenance with his wife Marianne and son Warren. For some years he has specialized in reed voicing, and as he approaches retirement spends more and more time tuning pianos. Ironically, his interest in temperaments comes from developments in piano tuning, where 19th-century tuning styles have been recovered in the manner of a lost art.tt

In 1993, over 30 organ builders met in Tempe, Arizona to discuss the significance of “The Historical Organ in America” and to ponder the future of historically informed organ building. Twelve years later, a new Martin Pasi organ in Omaha’s St. Cecilia Cathedral is the realization of a future that could only be a matter of conjecture a decade ago. Pasi’s Opus 14 is a magnificent achievement--musical, spiritual and architectural. 

In 2005, from April 7-9, the University of Nebraska-Lincoln School of Music and the Westfield Center held a symposium entitled “The Organ as Mirror of Religion and Culture--Temperament, Sound and Symbolism.” This symposium was also sponsored by the Schola Cantorum of St. Cecilia Cathedral in Omaha, Nebraska.  The new Pasi dual temperament organ made these far-reaching discussions possible in a way one could only dream of a decade ago.

I must admit that since dual temperament is a rare undertaking in organ building, I thought of it as an experimental and possibly excessive luxury. After a thorough acquaintance with this fine instrument, its setting and its players, I find that dual temperament is extremely practical in its application to church music, both old and new. This was a big surprise. After attending the symposium, I felt that it was possible to reflect on three aspects as they relate to the new Martin Pasi organ: philosophical, metaphysical and practical. 

My first impressions in this magnificent cathedral were hardly philosophical. I marveled at the sound of the organ, the splendid acoustic and the phenomenal artistic decoration and design of the church. This is truly an extraordinary space, where the celebration of both sonic and visual art is evident throughout the building. Once my ears were filled with the vocal sound of the organ, I felt purity and harmony beyond expectations. The effect of meantone tuning is visceral. It calms the nerves and soothes the soul! Whatever understanding of “temperaments” I carried into this space evaporated in a sense of sheer sound and harmony. So much for reading about temperaments in the context of western civilization and pouring over comparative charts. Pure sound is pure sound!

The rather complex symposium entitled “The Organ as Mirror of Religion and Culture” opened April 7 with a recital by Kevin Vogt, director of St. Cecilia Cathedral Schola Cantorum. Interspersed between organ selections was a reading of John Dryden’s “Ode to Saint Cecilia” given by Marie Rubis Bauer, also an organist of the cathedral. The immediacy and impact of the music and spoken word set the stage for discussions of philosophy and culture which followed. A presentation called “The Organized Cosmos” was made by Quentin Faulkner (University of Nebraska-Lincoln), followed by discussions of philosophy and organ music. Calvin Bower (Notre Dame University) gave a talk entitled “Sign, Reference, and the Communion of Saints: First Steps Toward an Aesthetic of Sacred Music,” which emphasized the “transcendent” nature of church music. Music, at the moment of its inception in the church, “transcends” for a brief moment the worlds of temporal and spiritual reality, residing for a transient period of time in both spheres. This is the “communion” or the magic of the moment--pretty heady stuff for a lowly organist and scribe.

That evening, we repaired to a concert by Hans Davidsson (Eastman School of Music), David Dahl (Pacific Lutheran University, emeritus), and Kevin Vogt, which featured works by Matthias Weckmann, J. S. Bach and David Dahl. The ancient philosophers believed in the melding of the mind and body, and I had no doubt that the combination of beautiful vocal tone and purity of tuning in the organ had a complex physiological and psychological effect. One’s attention was drawn so forcibly to the organ that time was forgotten. The music of Matthias Weckmann came to life as if it had been composed yesterday. Bach’s works took on a whole new meaning. 

Friday, April 8, Hans Davidsson offered several presentations on the subject of “The Harmony of the Spheres,” which explored what he called “sacred geometry” or the patterns of construction that organ builders knew throughout the ages. He explained that these “building blocks” enabled the building of cathedrals and organs in times past, much like cow barns in our own time, built by common folk without the aid of drawings or architects. Organ building had a practical, intuitive nature that made it possible for builders to construct monumental organs without the aid of drawings or architects, just like the cathedrals that housed them and the stained glass that adorned them.

With these thoughts fresh in our minds, we attended Solemn Vespers with improvisation by Susan Ferré in alternation with Gregorian chant. Again, inspiration came from well-established patterns and style  (like “barn building”). There was an uncanny ease with which the improvised musical examples fleshed out the philosophical discussions we had just heard. It seemed that the Westfield Center folks were on the same wavelength as the academics.

Metaphysical aspects of the organ were further explored by Fr. Anthony Ruff of St. John’s Abbey. Along these lines, a unique presentation on “The Organ as Symbol” was made by Charles S. Brown. Curiously, he also took up the metaphor of barns, and took the participants on a “Pilgrimage through Round Barns.” This rather far-reaching discussion of the symbology of the organ touched on discussions of eschatology, folk religion and masks in aboriginal cultures. All this did not lose sight of the organ as a unique instrument, embedded in a very long history of western civilization. Panel discussions gave the opportunity for much storytelling. Many participants were able to give an account of their own unique experiences of “organ encounters,” some rather touching.

Temperament was a significant subject of formal presentations. On April 9, Ibo Ortgies gave a synopsis of his study of tuning as it pertains to the works of Dietrich Buxtehude and his contemporaries. He presented a picture of 17th- and 18th-century performance practice that was extremely compatible with meantone tuning and did not at all support the idea that “well-tempered” tuning was necessary for the performance of this music. In fact, a central part of his thesis seemed to refute the notion that Buxtehude had the Marienkirche organ retuned in well-temperament. In his words, that seemed not to be the case, despite the fact that it was widely assumed to be true.

Along these same lines, Hans Davidsson made presentations on the new four-manual 17th-century North German organ at Göteborg University, Göteborg, Sweden. This is now the largest meantone organ on the continent, and goes a long way to support Ortgies’ thesis that meantone tuning was far and away the most common tuning clear through the 18th century. Along with these insights, Bruce Shull of Taylor & Boody Organbuilders gave a presentation on the newly discovered Bach/Lehmann temperament, which opens up new avenues for the appreciation of Bach’s music. This audience, already committed to early music, was able to appreciate such information and insight and see its application in the daily recitals and musical examples of the symposium. 

These presentations stretched the mind of every listener in preparation for a concert of new music for the organ by Robert Bates. I confess that I was apprehensive about modern music performed on a meantone organ. How could contemporary music work on an organ that captured the tuning of the 17th and 18th centuries? Bates presented works by Arvo Pärt, Gyorgy Ligeti, Joan Tower, Naji Hakim, and his own Chromatic Fantasy and Charon’s Oar. Would he explore the dark, dissonant side of meantone tuning? With this question in mind, I discovered the genius of an artist committed to beauty and yes, the “metaphysical” properties of this organ in our time. The concert was followed by a reception and listeners could regain their poise. This was a not-to-be-forgotten experience!

There was still an unaswered question: Was a dual temperament organ a luxury in the worship service? A number of participants stayed an extra day to find out. St. Cecilia Cathedral is a very large church, and the two services were filled with many families, young children, a seeing-eye dog, and, fortunately, a group of nuns from the entire community. The music was simple, straightforward and traditional. Kevin Vogt played the service, and I marvelled at his ability to shift effortlessly between the meantone and well-tempered divisions of the organ, depending on the nature of the music. Modal compositions came to life in meantone tuning--not surprising, but what a rare opportunity to hear “ordinary” church music with such an “authentic” flavor. The simplest psalms and congregational responses jumped off the page with fresh meaning and inspiration. In this sense, it underscored the absolute practicality of dual temperament. Tuning that makes ordinary church music appeal to hardened traditionalists surely deserves to be called a practical application.

So there it was: philosophy, metaphysics and practical application--all explored through in-depth lectures and discussions, elegant performances and appealing church services in less than a week. These events came together smoothly through the efforts of all the individuals who contributed so mightily to this fine symposium. They included Quentin Faulkner, George Ritchie, Susan Ferré, Hans and Ulrika Davidsson, David Dahl, John Koster, Bruce Shull, Roger Sherman, Ibo Ortgies, Kevin Vogt, Marie Rubis-Bauer, Charles Brown, Calvin Bower, John Koster, Gene Bedient, John Brombaugh, Fr. Anthony Ruff, Robert Bates and of course, Martin Pasi, organbuilder.

Gavin Black is director of the Princeton Early Keyboard Center in Princeton, New Jersey. He can be reached by e-mail at [email protected].

Intervals, tuning, and temperament, part 2
Last month I wrote about some of the fundamentals underlying the art of keyboard temperament: aspects of the nature of musical sound and of intervals, the overtone series, and the so-called circle of fifths. This month I want to discuss keyboard temperament itself, using last month’s column as a foundation. I will talk about why temperament is necessary, what the major approaches to temperament have been over the centuries, some of what the different systems of temperament set out to accomplish, and about how different temperaments relate to different historical eras. Next month I will also discuss the practicalities of tuning and a few miscellaneous matters related to tuning and temperament.
As I said last month, my main point is to help students become comfortable with tuning and temperament and to develop a real if basic understanding of them, regardless of whether they are planning to do any tuning themselves. Before describing some of the essential details of several tuning systems, I want to review how we discuss tuning and how our thinking about tuning is organized, so that the descriptions of different temperaments will be easy to grasp.
1) For purposes of talking about tuning, octaves are considered exactly equivalent. (This of course is no surprise, but it is worth mentioning.) The practical point of this is that if I say, for example, that “by tuning up by a fifth, six times in a row, I get from C to F#” I do not need to say that I also have to drop the resulting F# down by three octaves to get the simple tritone (rather than the augmented twenty-fifth); that is assumed. To put it another way, simple intervals, say the perfect fifth, and the corresponding compound intervals, say the twelfth or the nineteenth, are treated as being identical to one another.
2) Intervals fall into pairs that are inversions of one another: fifth/fourth; major third/minor sixth; minor third/major sixth; whole tone/minor seventh; semitone/major seventh. For purposes of tuning, the members of these pairs are interchangeable, if we keep direction in mind. For example, tuning up by a fifth is equivalent to tuning down by a fourth. If you are starting at C and want to tune G, it is possible either to tune the G above as a fifth or the G below as a fourth. It is always important to keep track of which of these you are doing or have just done, but they are essentially the same.
3) When, in tuning a keyboard instrument, we tune around the circle of fifths, we do not normally do this:

but rather something like this:

going up by fifths and down by fourths—sometimes up by fourths and down by fifths—in such a way as to tune the middle of the keyboard first, thus creating chords and scales that can be tested.
4) In tuning keyboard instruments we purposely make some intervals impure: that is, not perfectly (theoretically) in tune. When an interval is not pure it is either narrow or wide. An interval is wide when the ratio between the higher note and the lower note is greater than that ratio would be for the pure interval; it is narrow when the ratio is smaller. For example, the ratio between the notes of a pure perfect fifth is 3:2, that is, the frequency of the higher note is 1½ times the frequency of the lower note. In a narrow fifth, that ratio is smaller (perhaps 2.97:2), in a wide fifth it is larger (perhaps 3.05:2). Here’s the important point—one that students do not always realize until they have had it pointed out: making an interval wide does not necessarily mean making some note sharp, and making an interval narrow does not necessarily mean making some note flat. If you are changing the higher note in an interval, then raising that note will indeed make the interval wider and lowering it will make the interval narrower. However, if you are changing the lower note, then raising the note will make the interval narrower and lowering it will make the interval wider.
5) Tuning by fifths (or the equivalent fourths) is the theoretically complete way to conceive of a tuning or temperament system. This is because only fifths and fourths can actually generate all of the notes. That is, if you start from any note and tune around the circle of fifths in either direction, you will only return to your starting note after having passed through all of the other notes. If you start on any given note and go up or down by any other interval, you will get back to your starting note without having passed through all of the other notes.1 For example, if you start on c and tune up by major thirds you will return to c having only tuned e and g#/a♭. There is no way, starting on c and tuning by thirds, to tune the notes c#, d, d#, f, f#, g, a, b♭, or b. Tuning is sometimes done by thirds, but only as an adjunct to tuning by fifths and fourths. Any tuning system can be fully described by how it tunes all of the fifths.
6) As I mentioned last month, tuning two or more in a row of any interval spins off at least one other interval. For example, tuning two fifths in a row spins off a whole tone. (Starting at c and tuning c–g and then g–d spins off the interval c–d). Tuning four fifths in a row spins off a major third. (Starting at c and tuning c–g, g–d, d–a, a–e spins off the interval c–e). The tuning of the primary intervals—pure, wide, or narrow—utterly determines the tuning of the resulting (spun-off) interval. For example, tuning four pure perfect fifths in a row spins off a major third that is wider than the theoretically correct 5:4 ratio: very wide, as a matter of human listening experience. Tuning three pure fourths in a row (c–f, f–b♭, b♭–e♭, for example) spins off a minor third that is narrower than the theoretically correct 6:5.
So, what is temperament and why does it exist? Temperament is the making of choices about which intervals on the keyboard to tune pure and which to tune wide or narrow, and about how wide or narrow to make those latter intervals. Temperament exists, in the first instance, because of the essential problem of keyboard tuning that I mentioned last month: if you start at any given note and tune around the circle of fifths until you arrive back at the starting note, that starting note will be out of tune—sharp, as it happens—if you have tuned all of the fifths pure. The corollary of this is that in order to tune a keyboard instrument in such a way that the unisons and octave are in tune, it is absolutely necessary to tune one or more fifths narrow. This is a practical necessity, not an esthetic choice. However, decisions about how to address this necessity always involve esthetic choices.
There are practical solutions to this practical problem, and the simplest of them constitutes the most basic temperament. If you start at a note and tune eleven fifths, but do not attempt to tune the twelfth fifth (which would be the out-of-tune version of the starting note), then you have created a working keyboard tuning in which one fifth—the interval between the last note that you explicitly tuned and the starting note—is extremely out of tune. If you start with c and tune g, d, a, etc., until you have tuned f, then the interval between f and c (remember that you started with c and have not changed it) will be a very narrow fifth or very wide fourth. The problem with this very practical tuning is an esthetic, rather than a practical, problem: this fifth is so narrow that listeners will not accept it as a valid interval. Then, in turn, there is a practical solution to this esthetic problem: composers simply have to be willing to write music that avoids the use of that interval. This tuning, sometimes called Pythagorean, was certainly used in what we might call the very old days—late middle ages and early Renaissance. As an esthetic matter, it is marked by very wide thirds (called Pythagorean thirds) that are spun off by all of the pure fifths. These thirds, rather than the presence of one unusable fifth, probably are why this tuning fell out of favor early in the keyboard era.
The second-easiest way to address the central practical necessity of keyboard tuning is, probably, to divide the unavoidable out-of-tuneness of the fifths between two fifths, rather than piling it all onto one of them. For example, if in the example immediately above you tune the last interval, namely b♭–f, somewhat narrow rather than pure, then the resulting final interval of f–c will not be as narrow as it came out above. Perhaps it will be acceptable to listeners, perhaps not. Historical experience has suggested that it is right on the line.
In theory, what I just called the “unavoidable out-of-tuneness” (which is what theorists of tuning call the “Diatonic Comma” or “Pythagorean Comma”) can be divided between or among any number of fifths, from one to all twelve, with the remaining fifths being pure. The fewer fifths are made narrow—that is, “tempered”—the narrower each of them has to be; the more fifths are left pure (which is the same thing), the easier the tuning is, since tuning pure fifths is the single easiest component of the art of tuning by ear.2 The more fifths are tempered, the less far from pure each of them has to be; the fewer fifths are left pure, the more difficult the temperament is to carry out by ear.
Temperaments of this sort, that is, ones in which two or more fifths are made narrow and the remaining fifths are tuned pure, and all intervals and chords are usable, make up the category known as “well-tempered tuning.” There exist, in theory, an infinite number of different well-tempered tunings. There are 4083 different possible ways to configure the choice of which fifths to temper, but there are an infinite number of subtly different ways to distribute the amount of out-of-tuneness over any chosen fifths. From the late seventeenth century through the mid to late nineteenth century, the most common tunings were those in which somewhere between four and ten or eleven fifths were tempered, and the rest were left pure. In general, in the earlier part of those years temperaments tended to favor more pure fifths, and later they tended to favor more tempered fifths. The temperament in which all twelve fifths are tempered and the ratio to which they are all tempered is the same (2.9966:2) is known as equal temperament. It became increasingly common in the mid to late nineteenth century, and essentially universal for a while in the twentieth century. It was well known as a theoretical concept long before then, but little used, at least in part because it is extremely difficult to tune by ear.
In well-tempered tunings and in fact any tunings, the choices about which fifths to temper affect the nature of the intervals other than fifths. The most important such interval is the major third. The importance of the placement of tempered fifths has always come largely from the effect of that placement on the thirds. Historically, in the period during which well-tempered tuning was the norm, the fifths around C tended to be tempered so as to make the C–E major third close to pure, in any case almost always the purest major third within the particular tuning. This seems to reflect both a sense that pure major thirds are esthetically desirable or pleasing and a sense that the key of C should be the most pleasing key, or the most restful key, on the keyboard. In general, well-tempered tunings create a keyboard on which different intervals, chords, and harmonies belonging to the same overall class are not in fact exactly the same as one another. There might be, for example, major triads in which the third and the fifth are both pure, alongside major triads in which the fifth is pure but the third a little bit wide, or the fifth pure but the third very wide, or the fifth a little bit narrow and the third a little bit wide. It is quite likely that one of the points of well-tempered tuning was to cause any modulation or roaming from one harmonic place to another on the keyboard to effect an actual change in color—that is, in the real ratios of the harmonies—not just a change in the name of the chord or in its perceived distance from the original tonic.
In equal temperament, all intervals of a given class are in fact identical to one another, and each instance of a chord of a given type—major triad, minor triad, and so on—is identical to every other instance of that chord except for absolute pitch. Next month I will discuss ways in which the esthetic of each of these kinds of temperament fit in with other aspects of the musical culture of their times.
The other system of tuning that was prevalent for a significant part of the history of keyboard music—from at least the mid sixteenth century through the seventeenth century and, in some places well into the eighteenth—is known nowadays as meantone tuning. (This term was not used at the time, and is now applied to a large number of different tunings with similar characteristics.) In a meantone tuning, there are usually several major thirds that are unusably wide and one or more fifths that are also unusable. In fact, the presence of intervals that must be avoided by composers is greater than in Pythagorean tuning. However, this is in aid of being able to create a large number of pure or nearly pure major thirds. This was, perhaps, as a reaction to the earlier Pythagorean tuning with its extremely wide thirds, considered esthetically desirable during this period. The mathematics behind the tuning of thirds tells us that, if two adjacent thirds are both pure, say c–e and e–g#, then the remaining third that is nestled within that octave (see above), in this case a♭–c, will be so wide that no ears will accept it as a valid interval. Therefore only two out of every three major thirds can be pure—that is, eight out of the twelve—and, if they are tuned pure, the remaining major thirds will become unusable. This, of course, in turn means that composers must be willing to avoid those intervals in writing music. It is striking that composers were willing to do so with remarkable consistency for something like two hundred years.
The distribution of usable and unusable thirds in meantone is flexible. For example, while it is possible to tune c–e and e–g# both pure, as mentioned above, it is also possible to tune c–e and a♭–c pure, leaving e–g# to be unusable. In the late Renaissance and early Baroque keyboard repertoire, there are, therefore, pieces that use g# and piece that use a♭, but very few pieces that use both. There are pieces that use d# and pieces that use e♭, but very few pieces that use both. There are many pieces that use b♭ and a few that use a#, but almost none that use both. There are very few keyboard pieces from before the very late seventeenth century that do not observe these restrictions. This is powerful evidence that whatever was accomplished esthetically by observing them must have been considered very important indeed.