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In the wind . . .

John Bishop

John Bishop is executive director of the Organ Clearing House.

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Circumstantial pomp
Music is the stuff of ceremony. For scores of generations our graduations, coronations, installations, and celebrations have been accompanied by musical flourish. Music is with us when we marry and when we die—it marks our personal and public milestones. It expresses our joy, our dissonance, our unity, and our dissidence.
Musicians who work for the church know this as well as anyone. Each liturgical celebration has its particular hymns, anthems, and incidental music. Triumphant ceremonial pieces announce the great festivals of the Church. Contemplative, even mournful music accompanies sacraments and Passions.
It is both the privilege and the bane of the church organist to participate in countless family celebrations, meet with young couples preparing for marriage, and present music for weddings and funerals marking the events in the lives of the families. Families are at their best or their worst during these life experiences, but the thoughtful organist never loses sight of the importance of that music. I recall a year when Valentine’s Day happened to fall on a Sunday. The pastor preached about marriage, and I programmed the most familiar of wedding music for prelude, postlude, solo, and anthem. At the end of the postlude (Mendelssohn, of course), the church was full of people weeping. It took me half an hour to get down the aisle to coffee (and pink cupcakes) in the narthex.

Patriotism as protest
Each Olympic champion stands on a podium in front of a crowd while their country’s anthem is played. It moves me to see how that moves them—how proud and patriotic they are at that high moment of their life. But many of us remember American runner Tommie Smith, winner and world-record setter in the 200-meter race, giving a Black Power salute as America’s national anthem was played in his honor at the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City. Smith was quoted, “If I win, I am American, not a black American. But if I did something bad, then they would say I am a Negro. We are black and we are proud of being black. Black America will understand what we did tonight.”

Alleluia, sing alleluia.
Easter Sunday comes with a boatload of dedicated music. Newspaper columnist and humorist Dave Barry wrote that on Easter Sunday in his home church in Armonk, New York, parishioners had potted hyacinths in their hands, which they held up over their heads for each “alleluia” of that most familiar of Easter hymns—pretty cute. Trumpets and trombones play music of Handel and Gabrieli, lots of organists play Widor. But one of our country’s most singular Easter Sunday musical celebrations occurred on April 9, 1939, when Marian Anderson sang a recital at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. Ms. Anderson was perhaps the most famous serious singer of the time—star of the international solo and operatic stage. A couple years earlier, her agent Sol Hurok had tried to promote her presenting a recital at Constitution Hall in Washington, stronghold of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR). But because Marian Anderson was an African-American, she was denied.
Eleanor Roosevelt, that most spunky of activist women, was outraged by this denial. She resigned from the DAR in protest and joined Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes to promote Anderson’s appearance at the Lincoln Memorial—not a bad venue for back-up. That was the first time that iconic place was used as a stage for the civil rights movement, paving the way for one of the greatest speeches in the history of the human condition, Martin Luther King’s I have a dream. And it was a serious musical event with seventy-five-thousand people in attendance. Get that? 75,000 people. She sang O, mio Fernando from Donizetti’s La Favorita, and Schubert’s Ave Maria as well as spirituals and other well-known selections.
Civil rights historian Raymond Arsenault has recently published a book about this pivotal musical experience. In The Sound of Freedom: Marian Anderson, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Concert That Awakened America (Bloomsbury, 2009), Arsenault discusses the events that led to the presentation of the concert and the impact it had on the early struggle for civil rights in America. Dwight Garner of the New York Times wrote, “Raymond Arsenault delivers . . . a tightly focused look at the political and cultural events that led up to and came after her famous 1939 concert. It’s a story that’s well worth retelling.” You can find the book at http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Sound-of-Freedom/Raymond- Arsenault/e/9781596915787/—or better yet, order it through your local independent bookstore.
Why write about civil rights in The Diapason? I love the idea that a musical event can be identified as an historical turning point. And last week, Easter Sunday 2009, my wife and I attended a special commemorative concert at the Lincoln Memorial. Having left blustery, chilly New England at the height of mud season, we delighted in the balmy sunny weather of April in Washington. But as we were still in winter mode, we foolishly failed to bring the hats and sunglasses appropriate for the absence of shade on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. I once had natural protection against the midday sun, but no more. Driving out of Washington the next day, we were as pink as those cupcakes.
Before Marian Anderson passed away in 1993 at the age of 96 (she must have taken good care of her voice), she presented mezzo-soprano Denyce Graves with the Marian Anderson Award. Ms. Graves was the headliner at last week’s concert, wearing a gown that had been given to her by Ms. Anderson. Accompanied by pianist Warren Jones, she repeated Marian Anderson’s performances of Donizetti and Schubert. (I was amused by the guy with the Steinway & Sons sweatshirt who drew the duty to tune that sun-baked piano.) Ms. Graves was joined by Sweet Honey in the Rock, an acclaimed a cappella group of five singers and a signer specializing in gospel songs and spirituals, and by the Chicago Children’s Choir, an energetic group of high-school kids who form the senior ensemble of a program that serves “2800 children ages 8–18 through choirs in forty-five schools, after-school programs in eight Chicago neighborhoods and the internationally acclaimed Concert Choir.”1 The choir is directed by the eloquent and dynamic Josephine Lee, who must be a fantastic influence for those young musicians. The cast was filled out by “The President’s Own,” the U.S. Marine Band. Holy cow!
After an hour-and-a-half of music, General Colin Powell presided over the swearing-in of 200 new American citizens. It was quite an afternoon. And what was the postlude? The Stars and Stripes Forever played by the Marine Band—how’s that for ceremonial music—and let me tell you, that group (formerly conducted by John Philip Sousa) knows how to send that tune.
And by the way, on the last page of the concert program we read:

DAR Honors Marian Anderson
The National Society Daughters of the American Revolution is truly honored to celebrate the life and legacy of Marian Anderson. On the 70th anniversary of her historic Lincoln Memorial Concert, the DAR deeply regrets that Marian Anderson was not given the opportunity to perform at Constitution Hall in 1939, but today we join with all Americans to honor her memory and commemorate a pivotal event in the struggle for racial equality . . .

A gunnery guitar
Where in American music would a guitarist hold the title “Gunnery Sergeant?”
About ten years ago, Wendy and I attended another function in Washington. One of her colleagues was receiving an arts award from President Clinton and we were on the guest list. A huge crowd gathered under a tent on the White House lawn for a ceremony and concert (Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue). The assembled throng stood to sing The National Anthem and we were astonished by a majestic voice across the aisle—Metropolitan Opera star bass-baritone Samuel Ramey, a devil of a Mephistopheles, was a fellow audience member.
Arriving at a White House event is something of a production, even in the days before 9-11. There were dogs sniffing in trunks, mirrors looking under cars, and lots of sturdy serious people making sure you’re walking in the right direction. We walked along carpets across the lawn passing little musical ensembles. There was a harpist and flute, a string quartet, a pianist—all in formal red-and-black Marine uniforms festooned with gold braid and shiny buttons—members of the United States Marine Band. Before that night, I had no idea there was a harpist in the Marine Band. Today the incumbent is Master Sergeant Karen Grimsy who holds degrees from Indiana University and the Manhattan School of Music.
It’s hard to imagine a musical ensemble more involved in ceremonial music than the U.S. Marine Band. I’ll bet that the members are as familiar with Hail to the Chief or The Stars and Stripes Forever as the local parish organist is with Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring or The Pachelbel Canon (is it a composer or a title?).
As I write I’m flipping through the website of the Marine Band, www.marineband.usmc.mil. I find descriptions of the various ensembles (Chamber Orchestra, Chamber Ensembles, Concert Band, etc.). I find a huge calendar of upcoming performances—it looks as though among the various ensembles they do about 150 concerts a year, both at home and on tour. There are about 130 members and five officers (conductors), and the website has photos and bios of all of them, including cellist Master Sergeant Diana Fish, pianist Master Gunnery Sergeant Robert Boguslaw, and what must be the job of all jobs, piccolo player (I guess we don’t say piccolist) Master Gunnery Sergeant Cynthia Rugolo. I bet she knows the obbligato from Stars and Stripes Forever from memory.
Colonel Michael J. Colburn is the director of the Marine Band. The website tells us that

as Director of “The President’s Own,” Col. Colburn is music adviser to the White House. He regularly conducts the Marine Band at the Executive Mansion and at all Presidential Inaugurations. He also serves as music director of Washington, D.C.’s prestigious Gridiron Club, a position held by every Marine Band Director since John Philip Sousa, and is a member of the Alfalfa Club and the American Bandmaster’s Association.

He must be a pretty dependable performer, used to playing under pressure.

The Marine Band may be a world away from the lives of most readers of The Diapason, but it sure is a proficient ensemble with an undisputed ceremonial edge. (And they have a couple very snazzy buses!)

§

On April 29, 1962, President John F. Kennedy hosted a dinner at the White House for Western Hemisphere winners of the Nobel Prize. Addressing the guests, the President famously quipped, “I think this is the most extraordinary collection of talent, of human knowledge, that has ever been gathered together at the White House, with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone.”

Last week, driving our sunburns out of Washington, we went on to Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. Here is a magnificent homestead, beautifully preserved and presented, allowing us a glimpse into the life of a brilliant American. Jefferson was a statesman, politician, architect, musician, botanist, and who knows what else. Most fascinating was the presentation of the relatively recent (DNA-substantiated) revelation that Sally Hemings, one of Jefferson’s slaves, was also his mistress, and that he fathered children by her. (When you’re at the bookstore, ask for a copy of The Hemingses of Monticello: An American Family by Annette Gordon-Reed, winner of the 2009 Pulitzer Prize for History and the 2008 National Book Award for non-fiction.) We thought the tour guide who showed us through the house was uncomfortable having to talk about that.

Jefferson seems to have been a consummate control-freak. He designed every detail of the buildings and grounds—plenty of his architectural drawings are on display. On one, I read in his hand that the height of a Greek-inspired pediment was to be two-ninths its width. The vegetable garden, carpenter’s shops, sawmill, nailery, even the kitchen were built according to his exacting specifications. He developed cisterns to collect rainwater by the ton, protecting household life against the dry Virginia climate, and an ice house that could store thousands of pounds of ice harvested from neighboring ponds during the winter, ice that lasted through the summer.

We lived for a while in Lexington, Massachusetts, the home of the American Revolution. As you might expect, the town is very history-conscious, and while living there I got interested in noting the parallels and differences between American colonial life and the concurrent life of society in Europe—while Mozart was prancing around Vienna in a powdered wig, the Minutemen were slinking along behind stone walls taking pot-shots at British troops. I though I’d close by comparing the life of Thomas Jefferson to the development of the music we love so much:

1743: Thomas Jefferson and Luigi Boccherini were born and Francesco Stradivari died. Handel’s Samson received its first performance at Covent Garden. J. S. Bach was 58 years old.

1760: Jefferson entered the College of William and Mary, Luigi Cherubini was born, and Franz Joseph Haydn wrote his symphonies 2–5.

1770: Jefferson took up residence at Monticello, Beethoven was born, and Handel’s Messiah was performed in New York for the first time.

1776: Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence, Charles Burney published History of Music, and Mozart composed Serenade in D Major, K. 250 (Haffner).

1779: Jefferson was elected governor of Virginia, and William Boyce died.

1784: Jefferson began diplomatic service in France, and Wilhelm Friedemann Bach died.

1791: Mozart died, Carl Czerny was born, and Beethoven became Haydn’s pupil.

1796: Jefferson was elected Vice-President of the United States under John Adams.

1801: Jefferson was elected third President of the United States, and Haydn completed his oratorio, The Seasons.

1803: Jefferson commissioned the Lewis & Clark expedition and completed the Louisiana Purchase (paying about $15 million for 828,800 square miles, roughly a third of the modern United States), and Adolphe Adam (O Holy Night) and Hector Berlioz were born.

1809: Jefferson retired to Monticello, Beethoven composed Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-Flat Major (The Emperor), Haydn died, and Mendelssohn was born.

1817: Jefferson designed and planned an “Academical Village” in Charlottesville, Virginia, the inception of the University of Virginia, and Rossini composed La Cenerentola.

1826: Thomas Jefferson died on July 4, extraordinarily coincidentally the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, Mendelssohn composed Incidental Music to A Midsummernight’s Dream, and Carl Maria von Weber died.

1827: Beethoven died.

So Thomas Jefferson’s life at the gracious home at Monticello spanned the life of Beethoven almost exactly. Interesting.

 

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In the Wind. . . .

John Bishop
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In the niche of time

The history of organ building and organ music is deep and rich, but the longer I toil in those vineyards, the more I realize how small it is in the wider world. The histories of art, architecture, literature, and philosophy fill libraries and geo-political history—especially the great procession of warfare that dominates every epoch of human existence, influencing the flow of the arts and academic thought. It may seem trite to acknowledge the relative insignificance of the pipe organ, but I notice that many professionals in the field focus on the interrelation of historic and geographic subdivisions of organ history, separate from the context of more general world history. 

I’ve often mentioned the juxtaposition of the fashionable Rococo courts of Western Europe, complete with minuets and powdered wigs, and the Minuteman of Lexington, Massachusetts, scrambling behind walls and fences, trying to outsmart the British Redcoats in the early days of the American Revolution. Paul Revere (1735–1818), Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826), Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809), and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–91) were all contemporaries. 

Most of us have all the libraries of the world at our fingertips—a few clicks or keystrokes can call up reliable information on any subject. You can do it while you’re sitting on an organ bench. Give a Google or two to consider the composer on your music rack today—what painters, philosophers, or writers might he have met? What war was coming up or going on? How might that have influenced his thinking? Or did he scram when things got rough so he could work in peace?

 

Ancient roots

The history of the pipe organ spans more than 2,250 years, starting with the hydraulis created by Ctesibius of Alexandria, Egypt, in about 256 BC. Sounds mighty old, but the hydraulis didn’t come out of thin air. Panpipes are still familiar to us today and predated the hydraulis by many centuries. With a dozen or more of individual flutes lashed together, the panpipe is a sort of pipe organ, minus the mechanical valve systems and the User Interface (keyboards) of “modern organs” built after 1250 AD. You can hear live performances on panpipes (for a modest donation) most days in New York’s Times Square Metro Station.

The Chinese sheng is a little like an ocarina with vertical pipes—an obvious precursor to the organ. It’s easy to find photos online. It is a common mainstay of Chinese classical music, with ancient roots. Archeologists working in the Hubei Province in 1978 unearthed a 2,400-year-old royal tomb that contained a sheng.

Most of us learned about the supposed oldest playable organ from E. Power Biggs, who featured the organ in the Basilica of Notre Dame in Valère, Sion, Switzerland, in his 1967 recording, Historic Organs of Switzerland. We read on the jacket notes of that vinyl LP that the organ was built in 1390, more than a century before Christopher Columbus ostensibly discovered the New World. It’s now generally thought to have been built in 1435, 17 years before the birth of Leonardo da Vinci. Filippo Brunelleschi (1377–1446) was active in Florence at that time—the dome of the cathedral there for which Brunelleschi is perhaps best known was constructed right at the time of his death. Cosimo de’ Medici, the great patriarch of the fabled Florentine banking family, inherited his fortune in 1429. Nicolaus Copernicus, the astronomer who told us that the sun is the center of the universe, wasn’t born until 1473.1 It’s fun to note that Cosimo, Brunelleschi, and the builder of the organ at Sion lived in a world where it was believed that Earth was the center of the universe.2 As a sailor, I wonder how Christopher Columbus navigated?

 

Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck (1562–1621)

Sweelinck was born and died in Amsterdam. He assumed the position of organist at that city’s Oude Kerk in 1577 at the age of fifteen and worked there the rest of his life. His employment was unusual for his day in that playing the organ was his sole responsibility. That left him with plenty of time to teach, and his studio included such luminaries as Praetorius, Scheidemann, and Samuel Scheidt. So while he was born in the last years of the broadly defined Renaissance, his music and teaching formed a bridge between, let’s say, Palestrina and Buxtehude—a mighty tall order.3

One of Sweelinck’s greatest hits is Balletto del Granduca, a set of variations on a simple theme. On my desk right now is the “sheet music” edition I bought as a teenager ($1.00), Associated Music Publishers, edited by E. Power Biggs. (Wasn’t he a great educator?)

Painters Rubens and Caravaggio were Sweelinck’s contemporaries, and St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome was completed a few years after his death. Heliocentrism (the Sun as the center of the universe) was confirmed by astronomer Johannes Kepler in his publication Mysterium Cosmographicum in 1596. The Edict of Nantes was signed by King Henry IV of France in 1598, recognizing the basic rights of Protestants (Huguenots) in predominantly Roman Catholic France, including the right to freely practice their religion. Henry IV was murdered in 1610 by the radical Catholic François Ravaillac, and succeeded by his son, Louis XIII. Coincidentally, the King James Bible was published in 1611.

Sweelinck was a Calvinist, a doctrine governed by the regulative principle, which limited worship to the teachings of the New Testament. Calvin notwithstanding, Sweelinck’s creativity was encouraged by the Consistory of Dordrecht of 1598, in which organists were instructed to play variations on Genevan Psalm tunes in an effort to help the people learn them.

On closer shores, British refugees established the Colony of Virginia in 1607, French refugees established the city of Quebec in 1608, and Dutch refugees founded New York in 1612. The first African slaves arrived in Virginia in 1619, two years before Sweelinck’s death.

Given that much of the migration of Europeans toward the “New World” was inspired by religious persecution, we read that Sweelinck lived in an era of dramatic international religious tension and change. It’s not much of a stretch to compare those tensions around the year 1600 with today’s religious persecution, division, and fundamentalism.

(I’ll let you do Bach!)

 

Felix Mendelssohn (1809–47)

Beethoven (1770–1827) was 29 when Mendelssohn was born, and Mendelssohn was 24 when Brahms (1833–97) was born.4 Felix Mendelssohn was as precocious as musicians get. He wrote 12 string symphonies between the ages of 12 and 14. His three piano quartets were written between 1822 and 1825 (you do the math!)—these were his first published works. I’ve long counted his overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream among my favorite pieces. Its brilliant passagework, soaring melodies, sumptuous orchestration, and driving rhythms are a tour de force for modern orchestras and ferociously challenging to organists playing it in transcription. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was a mature work, but it’s the product of a 17 year old. What were you doing when you were 17?

The 1820s was a decade of violent uprisings all over Europe. Italians revolted against King Ferdinand of the Two Sicilies, resulting in the formation of a constitutional monarchy. A colonel in the Spanish army assembled a mutiny against King Ferdinand VII, who capitulated to their demands for a liberal constitution. France answered Ferdinand’s plea for assistance by sending 100,000 soldiers, quelling the uprising, and restoring the absolute monarchy. There were revolutions in Portugal and Brazil, and in a brutal revolutionary war, Greece won independence from the Ottoman Empire. The death of Napoléon Bonaparte in 1821 coincided with Mendelssohn’s prolific adolescence. In the United States in 1825, John Quincy Adams was president, the Erie Canal was opened, and Eli Whitney, inventor of the cotton gin, passed away.

One of Mendelssohn’s greatest hits is his Violin Concerto, completed and premiered in 1845, four years before his death. The year 1845 was a busy one around the world. Edgar Allan Poe published The Raven, Baylor University and the United States Naval Academy were founded, James Polk succeeded John Tyler as President of the United States, and the potato blight began in Ireland. In 1845, Frederick Douglass published his autobiography, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, an earth-shaking work that represented several giant steps in the march toward the American Civil War.

There were many “firsts” that year: a “screw-powered” steamship crossed the Atlantic, anesthesia was used to ease childbirth, the New York Herald mentioned baseball, and the rubber band was invented in Great Britain. It has never occurred to me to associate Felix Mendelssohn with baseball, anesthesia, or rubber bands. Do you suppose Mendelssohn ever rolled up a manuscript with a rubber band?

 

Charles-Marie Widor (1844–1937)

Widor is probably forever to be remembered by legions of organists and brides for one piece of music. But seventy-five measures of sixteenth notes in 4/2 time, followed by three of big whole-note chords in F major is a pittance when compared to the rest of his massive output of music. He wrote tons of orchestral music including symphonies, works for orchestra with organ, piano, violin, cello, harp, chorus, and various huge combinations. There are six duos for piano and harmonium, a piano quartet, a piano quintet, and sonatas for violin, cello, oboe, and clarinet. There are reams of piano music, songs, and choral music, even music for the stage. But all we really know are ten organ symphonies along with a half-dozen incidental pieces for organ. And most of us only play one of his pieces. Oh yes, there’s also a doozy in G minor, but it’s a lot harder.

Widor was one of the most important teachers of his generation, succeeding César Franck as professor of organ at the Paris Conservatoire in 1890, later leaving that post to become professor of composition. His students included Marcel Dupré, Louis Vierne, Charles Tournemire, Darius Milhaud, and Albert Schweitzer.

Widor studied in Brussels with Jacques-Nicolas Lemmens (lots of us play Lemmens’s Fanfare). When he finished those studies in 1868 at the age of 24, he moved to Paris where he was appointed assistant to Camille Saint-Säens at Église de la Madeleine. And in 1870, he was appointed “provisional” organist at Ste-Sulpice, the most prestigious post in France and home to the fantastic Cavaillé-Coll organ that is revered, cherished, and studied by generations of organists and organbuilders around the world. His primary advocate for that envied position was Aristide Cavaillé-Coll himself, who had been disappointed by the flippancy of the music of Louis James Alfred Lefébure-Wély (1817–69), the previous organist who had presided over the first years of Cavaillé-Coll’s masterpiece. It’s rumored that Cavaillé-Coll’s agitation contributed to Lefébure-Wély’s early death. (You gotta watch out for those organbuilders!)

Daniel Roth, the current organist at Ste-Sulpice,5 visited New York City to play a recital at Church of the Resurrection, where I, with the Organ Clearing House, had installed a renovated and relocated 1916 Casavant organ. It was an exciting moment for us to have such a master player perform on “our” instrument, but one of the most interesting moments came not at the organ console, but walking the sidewalks of Park Avenue, when Monsieur Roth told me some of the back story surrounding Widor’s appointment in 1870.

That’s the year that the Franco-Prussian War broke out. Chancellor Otto von Bismarck had used brilliant and nefarious schemes to provoke a French attack on Prussia. The French Parliament declared war on the German Kingdom of Prussia on July 16, 1870, the Germans were armed and in position, and quickly invaded northeastern France. Paris fell to Prussian forces in January of 1871. In May of 1871, the Treaty of Frankfurt gave Germany what is now Alsace-Lorraine, and the balance of power in Europe was upset. France was determined to reclaim lost territory, Britain was nervous about the change of balance in power, and the seeds were sown for World War I.

In that harsh political climate, patriotic (and perhaps, bigoted) Frenchmen considered Belgium as German,6 and Widor’s detractors whispered in the ears of the priests that Widor “plays like a German.” Cavaillé-Coll prevailed, and Widor was appointed. But his appointment was never made formal. He served Ste-Sulpice as provisional organist for 64 years. Widor’s student Marcel Dupré succeeded him, and served until 1971—more than a hundred years after Widor’s appointment.7

Claude Monet (1840–1926) completed some of his early works while living in Paris between 1865 and 1870, when Camille Doncieux was his model for The Woman in the Green Dress, Woman in the Garden, and On the Bank of the Seine. Camille gave birth to their son in 1867, and they were married on June 28, 1870, less than three weeks before the start of the Franco-Prussian War. As the war started, Monet fled to England with his new wife and child, where he studied the work of John Constable and J. M. W. Turner. How’s that for war influencing the arts?

Édouard Manet, James Whistler, Edgar Degas, and Auguste Renoir were contemporaries of Widor. Monet, Manet, Degas, and Renoir were all active in Paris when Widor was organist at Ste-Sulpice. I wonder if they met? What would they have talked about?

 

And that organ?

The Cavaillé-Coll organ at Ste-Sulpice was built in 1862, incorporating some pipes from the previous (1781) Clicquot organ. With five manuals and a hundred stops, it was one of the largest organs in the world. (An additional voice was added when Widor retired.) It included pneumatic actions to assist the vast mechanical systems, a complex wind system with multiple wind pressures (all in the days of hand-pumping), a state-of-the-art whiz-bang console with arrays of mechanical registration devices, and a huge palette of tonal innovations. 

Europe had not cornered the market on war in those days. The American Civil War was in full swing when Cavaillé-Coll completed that organ. In 1862, Jefferson Davis was inaugurated as President of the Confederate States of America, Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation, and Julia Ward Howe’s Battle Hymn of the Republic was published in the Atlantic Monthly. Henry David Thoreau died on May 6, 1862. Do you suppose Widor ever read Thoreau’s Resistance to Civil Government, Slavery in Massachusetts, or Walden? And who will be the first to include Battle Hymn of the Republic on their recording at Ste-Sulpice?

§

Maybe Felix Mendelssohn was aware of Eli Whitney’s cotton gin, but it would be a reach to trace how that machine influenced Mendelssohn’s music (though there are dissertations out there that seem just as obscure). Widor had to have noticed the Prussian occupation of Paris as he was starting his epic tenure at Ste-Sulpice. He must have had terrifying walks to church past Prussian soldiers brandishing weapons. Such a sight would have influenced my improvisations. And suppose he had happened to meet Degas or Renoir at a reception. Would he have gone to the studio for coffee the next day and discussed the confluence of pictorial art and music?

In its collective history, the organ is an exquisite example of the highest of human achievements. It combines an array of crafts, it functions thanks to scientific principles, and it evokes the full range of human emotions. But it’s not a be-all or end-all. Its place in our society is the result of complex evolution, and given the complexity of today’s world and the state of today’s church, we’re passing through a time that has been less than a Golden Age.

But the range of the instrument, the breadth of its history, and the sheer power of its voice continue to keep it in the forefront. However obscure and arcane, its nearly unique status as a vehicle for improvisation equips it perfectly as an instrument of the future. What will future generations deduce from today’s organ music when they look back and consider the wide world in which we live today?

And here’s a hint: your recital audience loves to hear this stuff. Of course we’re interested in the intricacies of sonata form, or the structure of a fugue (“listen for the entrances”), but the people might get more out of connecting your organ world with their history world, their literature world, their art world. It took me about seven hours to write this piece, including the deep research. It’s not a big effort, and it adds a lot. The buzz phrase in the real estate world is “location, location, location.” How about “relevance, relevance, relevance?” ν

 

Notes

1. A general note: In this essay, I’m tossing about lots of supposedly specific facts. As usual, I’m sitting at my desk with nothing but a laptop, and I’m gathering data from quick Google searches. Much of the data comes from Wikipedia, which we suppose is generally accurate, but cannot be relied on as absolute. I am, therefore, not citing each specific reference, and offer the caveat that any factual errors are unintentional. They are offered to provide general historical context, and discrepancies of a year or two are inconsequential for this purpose.

2. There may well be some hangers-on who still believe that the sun revolves around the earth!

3. Similarly, Haydn was eighteen years old when J. S. Bach died, just as the Baroque era was ending. 

4. I like telling people that my great-grandmother, Ruth Cheney, was seven years old when Brahms died, and my sons were present at her funeral in 1994. On her hundredth birthday she increased from one cigarette a day to two! I treasure her piano, an 1872 rosewood Steinway, passed through our family to me as the only musician in my generation.

5. Daniel Roth has just been named International Performer of the Year by the New York City AGO chapter.

6. Today, Belgium has three official languages: French, German, and Dutch.

7. It’s poignant to remember that in his memoir, Dupré wrote of the agonies of World War II. He and his wife stayed at their home in Meudon during the Nazi occupation. German officers visited their home, planning to install guns on the roof, which commanded a view of Paris. Somehow the presence of the big pipe organ in the Salle d’orgue helped them decide not to. Later, their home was badly damaged by a German bomb. For the first two weeks of the German occupation, with no other transportation available, the Duprés (then in their fifties) walked the several miles to Ste-Sulpice.

Nunc Dimittis

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Southern Methodist University’s emeritus professor of organ and sacred music Robert Theodore Anderson succumbed to Parkinson’s disease on May 29 in Honolulu, Hawaii. Born in Chicago on October 5, 1934, RTA (as he was affectionately known by hundreds of students and friends) received his early training at the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago. Undergraduate work was accomplished at Illinois Wesleyan University (Bloomington), where he studied organ with Lillian Mecherle McCord. At Union Theological Seminary in New York, he was awarded the degrees Master of Sacred Music (magna cum laude) in 1957 and Doctor of Sacred Music in 1961. He was an organ pupil of Robert Baker and studied composition with Harold Friedell and Seth Bingham.
A Fulbright Grant awarded in 1957 permitted Anderson to study in Frankfurt with Helmut Walcha. During the two years he spent in Germany, he served as guest organist at Walcha’s Dreikoenigskirche, and toured as a recitalist under the auspices of the American Embassy.
Anderson began teaching at SMU’s Meadows School of the Arts in 1960. He retired from the school (because of ill health) in 1996, but continued to teach for several more years to complete the degree programs of his final organ majors. Dr. Anderson was promoted to full professor in 1971, and was subsequently awarded the first Meadows Distinguished Teaching Professorship and named a University Distinguished Professor (SMU’s highest rank).
Two of RTA’s students, Wolfgang Rübsam and George C. Baker, won first places at the prestigious Chartres Organ Competition, and many others repeatedly placed in American contests. Anderson was known for his widely comprehensive organ repertoire and toured extensively as a solo recitalist, for a time under the auspices of the Lilian Murtagh/Karen Macfarlane Concert Management. A Fellow of the American Guild of Organists, Anderson served that organization as National Councillor for Education. He was Dean of the Dallas AGO chapter (1965–67), and served in many other capacities during his years in Dallas. The chapter named its annual recital series in his honor at the time of his retirement.
Anderson’s funeral was held at the Lutheran Church of Honolulu on June 3, with organist Katherine Crosier at the Beckerath organ and RTA’s Union Seminary classmate Nyle Hallman playing harp. His ashes will rest in Chicago, next to those of his parents. SMU is planning a Dallas memorial service, to be held in September.
—Larry Palmer

Howard Clayton died March 5 in Norman, Oklahoma. He was 79. He had earned degrees in education from Emporia State University, Emporia, Kansas, in music from the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago, and a Ph.D. in general administration from the University of Oklahoma. Dr. Clayton held music teaching positions in Illinois before switching his emphasis to library science, which he taught at the University of Oklahoma. He had also held positions at other universities, including Pittsburg State University in Pittsburg, Kansas. He was editor of the educational journal Learning Today from 1968–85. At the time of his death, he was serving as organist at St. John Nepomuk Catholic Church in Yukon, Oklahoma. Howard Clayton is survived by his wife of 59 years, Wilma, daughter Caren Halinkowski, son Curtiss, brother Paul, a granddaughter, and nieces and nephews.

Everett S. Kinsman, age 86, died January 14 in Bethesda, Maryland. He had studied at the Catholic University of America and was an organ student of Conrad Bernier and Paul Callaway. He had served at St. Matthew’s Cathedral and St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in Washington, D.C., and was organist at the Shrine of the Sacred Heart for 22 years, beginning in 1949. His last position was at Our Lady of Mercy Church in Potomac, Maryland.

Mark L. Russakoff died April 12, Easter Sunday, at the age of 58. He had served most recently as director of music ministries at St. Irenaeus Catholic Church in Park Forest, Illinois.
Born in Birmingham, Alabama, September 16, 1950, he studied piano with Samuel and Delores Howard at Birmingham-Southern Conservatory, and organ with Joseph Schreiber at Birmingham-Southern Conservatory and with H. Edward Tibbs at Samford University. He earned a bachelor of music degree at Washington University, St. Louis, studying organ with Robert Danes and Howard Kelsey, and harpsichord with Anne Gallet. He also studied organ with Pierre-Daniel Vidal and harpsichord with Agnès Candau at the Strasbourg Conservatory, and earned master’s and doctoral degrees in organ at Northwestern University as a student of Wolfgang Rübsam and Richard Enright.
Russakoff taught at Chicago Musical College of Roosevelt University and at Thornton Community College. He served as organist/director of handbell ensembles at Flossmoor Community Church, director of music at St. Emeric Catholic Church, Country Club Hills, and was music editor and engraver for ACP Publications in South Holland. He is survived by his wife Cynthia, daughter Rachael, and sister Dale.

Charles Shaffer, 78, died May 2 in Los Angeles. Born in Akron, Ohio on November 17, 1930, his first piano lessons were in the Akron public schools, and he was a boy chorister at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church there. During World War II, Shaffer and his family moved to South Gate, California, where he continued his piano studies and deepened his interest in playing the organ and in organ building. By age thirteen he was playing services at St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church in South Gate. During his high school years, the family moved back to Akron, and Shaffer took his first organ lessons and attended his first meetings of the AGO chapter there.
Shaffer’s first year as an undergraduate was spent at Oberlin Conservatory, where he studied with Fenner Douglass. His studies were interrupted when he was drafted to serve in the U.S. Army during the Korean Conflict. Upon discharge from the service he continued his studies at the University of Redlands (California), where he studied with Dr. Leslie P. Spelman and earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees in organ performance.
Charles Shaffer served for eighteen years as organist of First Presbyterian Church in Hollywood, California, and later at First Baptist Church in Pasadena. An active teacher and performer, he served the AGO in various capacities at the local and regional level and several of his articles have appeared in The American Organist.
In the early 1990s he was invited to consult on an organ renovation project at Westwood United Methodist Church in Los Angeles. His role soon evolved from consultant to principal donor and co-designer of what has come to be called the Shaffer Memorial Organ (in memory of his wife of 29 years, Phyllis). The core of the organ was a large pipe instrument installed by Schantz in 1995. The expansion and revision of this instrument occupied Shaffer for the rest of his life. With co-designer Burton K. Tidwell and others, the organ has grown to include 153 ranks of pipes and 83 digital voices located in the chancel and gallery of the church and controlled by a four-manual and a two-manual console. It is one of the largest organ installations in southern California and was heard at the 2004 AGO convention.
Shaffer’s generosity to the church’s music ministry also included the gifts of five pianos (in memory of his parents and his wife’s parents), a digital carillon system, and seed money for an endowment fund to care for the instruments. About the many years of their close collaboration, Burton Tidwell has written of Charles, “His desire to explore possibilities beyond the ordinary, and then see that they could happen, has challenged and expanded my own concepts of organ building. Mr. Shaffer’s vision and generosity have provided all of us with a lasting legacy.” Charles Shaffer is survived by his sister, Lona Abercrombie, three nephews and three nieces.
—Gregory Norton
Minister of Music
Westwood United Methodist Church
Los Angeles, CA

Frank B. Stearns died February 4 at the age of 67 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Born in Brattleboro, Vermont, he received a bachelor of music degree from Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey, and a master’s of music from the University of Pittsburgh, as well as a master of education degree from Slippery Rock University. He served as an elementary teacher for 28 years, and was director of music for 31 years at Zion’s Reformed United Church of Christ in Greenville, Pennsylvania. For the last ten years he was director of music at Center Presbyterian Church in Slippery Rock. Stearns was active in community musical groups and was also a member of numerous musical and historic organizations, including the American Guild of Organists, the Organ Historical Society, the American Recorder Society, and the Mercer County Historical Society, which named him Volunteer of the Year in 2007. Frank Stearns is survived by his wife of forty years, Patricia, sons Jim and David, and two grandchildren.

Raymond A. Zaporski, age 81, died on February 28 in Roseville, Michigan. He was a music minister-organist for the Archdiocese of Detroit for over 50 years, serving St. Angela Parish Church in Roseville, St. Blase Catholic Community in Sterling Heights, and St. Anne Catholic Community in Warren, Michigan. Raymond Zaporski is survived by his wife, Dorothy, sons Mark, Michael, and Martin, daughter Mary Beth, and their families.

A Conversation with the Chenaults

Marcia Van Oyen

Marcia Van Oyen earned master's and doctoral degrees in organ and church music at the University of Michigan, where she studied organ with Robert Glasgow. She is the organist and director of music ministry at Glenview Community Church (UCC) in Glenview, Illinois, and is past Dean of the North Shore AGO. She also writes for Choir & Organ magazine and JAV Recordings. More information is available online at .

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Elizabeth and Raymond Chenault have blazed a trail for the art of the organ duet, enchanting audiences with their enjoyable performances and charming personalities and ensuring the future of the genre with a wealth of commissioned repertoire. When you meet the Chenaults, an easy rapport develops immediately, and you feel as if you've known them a long time. They are genuine, sincere, fun-loving people, and these qualities feed their mission to connect with people through their music.

Both their career as duo organists and their marriage span nearly 30 years. Natives of Virginia, the Chenaults attended Virginia Commonwealth University, marrying after graduation in 1972. Ray attended Cincinnati Conservatory to earn a master's degree, and they both studied organ with Wayne Fisher during that time. Following his master's studies, Ray spent a year as organ scholar at Washington National Cathedral. The Chenaults moved to Atlanta in 1975, taking the positions of organists and choir masters at All Saints Episcopal Church, where they direct the music program and concert series. A year later, positions at the Lovett School--Ray as director of fine arts and choral director of the Upper School, Beth as choral director of the Middle School--rounded out their professional life. The Chenaults are managed by Phillip Truckenbrod Concert Artists.

I talked with them while they were in town to play a concert at the Glenview Community Church.

MVO: How did you get started performing duets?

Beth: When we started giving recitals, we thought it would be fun to play together because we're married. That was how we got started. Thomas Tomkins, the 16th-century British composer, wrote one of the earliest known organ duets, A Fancy for Two, which we programmed on our recitals. Early on, when we commissioned Gerre Hancock to write a piece, he took the same title, A Fancy for Two. Sometimes we would play both of those duets because we didn't have enough literature. We would play solo organ literature and put a few duets on the program.

Ray: When we began to research duet organ literature, we found there wasn't a lot written. There are theses and dissertations that have identified unpublished manuscripts of duets, but we focused on what was published. There was so little of it that we decided to start commissioning works.

MVO: So you started commissioning music not only because you wanted to, but also out of necessity.

Ray: Right. The idea really came unexpectedly. In 1978, Dr. Arthur Wills from Ely Cathedral in England played a recital on our concert series at All Saints Church, Atlanta. The second half of the program comprised his own music. I really liked what I was hearing, so after the concert I asked him if he'd be interested in writing us an organ duet. He immediately accepted and that became our first commission.

Beth: Toccata for Two is one of our favorite pieces and we premiered it at Washington National Cathedral.

Ray: Next, we asked John Rutter to write Variations on an Easter Theme for us which we also premiered at Washington Cathedral. We found out that audiences, organists and music critics were very excited about the duets we were commissioning. In fact they still are almost 25 years later. Now we have over forty commissions that we've either arranged or had written for us. Three CDs later, we've recorded a lot of our own works and have the Chenault Organ Duet Library that's been published by Belwin Mills. Our mission is to get the work out there and leave a body of work for organists to perform and audiences to enjoy.

MVO: Do you play your duo repertoire for church services, or do you stick to solos?

Beth: For church services, we've played Callahan's Evensong, Philip Moore's Allegro, and Variations on an Easter Theme by Rutter.

Ray: We use almost all our repertoire, except the secular pieces, for preludes and postludes.

Beth: We have even played The Stars and Stripes Forever for the postlude near the 4th of July. Our former rector, the Right Rev. Harry H. Pritchett, Jr., played the cymbals and the entire congregation would cheer him on.

Ray: Talk about fun for the congregation--the minister playing cymbals. That's one time they all stay for the postlude. When the minister hits the first crash of the cymbals the congregation will break into applause, I can assure you.

Beth: It's just great fun and a wonderful way to make organ music and the organist more accessible to the parishioners.

Ray: Charlie Callahan has already written two compositions for the first Sunday when we'll play the new John-Paul Buzard pipe organ at our church for services on All Saints Sunday this November 2003. One of these is a duet postlude on Sine Nomine.

MVO: When commissioning a piece, do you give the composer specific ideas or do you let him have free rein?

Beth: We've done both. When we first started, we had some definite ideas. With Philip Moore, we asked him to listen to our recital at Yorkminster Cathedral and make a suggestion about what we might need on the program. He suggested sonata-allegro form, so he used that form for the third movement of the Triptych which he wrote for us over a time period of five years. This wonderful composition works nicely as a larger work in three movements or by featuring one of them in concert.

Ray: Being a bit of a composer myself, I believe it's important for the composer to have inspiration for a piece or a particular theme, because then you get your best music. In general, we're open-minded and accepting of whatever a composer feels inspired to do. We've been very happy with most of our commissions and they're all very different. It's wonderful to see composers being inspired by what they want to write. Take The Emerald Isle for instance. Charlie Callahan's homeland is Ireland. When he found out we were going to be recording our second CD at Washington Cathedral--he knows that organ very well, he lived in Washington--he said he knew exactly what he wanted to write--a piece based on Londonderry Air. He was inspired to write one of our most appealing organ duets. He never missed an opportunity to extract every ounce of beauty from that popular theme. Being from Ireland, it had a very special meaning for him.

Beth: Nicholas White has just written an arrangement of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera for us.

Ray: We wanted something fun for our audiences and Phantom is our favorite musical. Nick lives in New York. He loves musical theatre and plays jazz, so he was the ideal choice for this commission. When we commissioned him the first time, we specifically asked for an arrangement of Shenandoah, because Beth is from the little town of Shenandoah in Virginia. We love that beautiful folk tune and our audiences love it, too.

Beth: The Shenandoah River goes through my hometown, and some of the piece was cleverly written by Nick to sound like the rippling water. He also throws in Moon River and Strangers in the Night for added pleasure.

MVO: Do the composers usually give specific registrations in the scores?

Ray: Mostly they're very specific about what they want. Occasionally, they just give dynamic levels and registration suggestions. A lot of times we'll go back and ask them specifically what they want. It's a lot easier if they are specific, then we can take creative license, depending on the organ.

Beth: We've often had coaching sessions with the composer. Conrad Susa made only dynamic suggestions in Canticle. So we found it very helpful to play the duet for him and get his immediate feedback to our interpretation and registration.

Ray: Stephen Paulus has written for us Triumph of the Saint, a large symphonic type three-movement duet, which had only dynamic suggestions. We met with Steve and then he gave more specific registration suggestions. He waits to hear the piece first. It's fun to get the composer's input and ideas. You learn so much from them.

Beth: On the other hand, in the score of Rhapsody, which we premiered in Atlanta for the 1992 National AGO Convention, Naji Hakim was very specific.

Ray: He was specific to the stop, and it's rewarding to recreate that, even though his work is written with the French organ sound in mind. Some American organs do that more successfully than others, but you create that sound as best you can when you get to different instruments. Some of the composers write for four feet, some have Beth do most of the pedaling because she's sitting on the left hand side. In the Naji Hakim piece, we both have double pedaling which is an added sonority.

Beth: At one point in the last Allegro movement of Philip Moore's Triptyque, Ray almost gets off the organ bench as I move all the way up to high E on the pedalboard. The balance issue really comes into play and both players must be totally in sync in such instances.

Ray: You'll see me almost get up and stand beside the bench while I'm still playing just to get out of Beth's zone. She, at that point, becomes a solo player because the pedal work is the main focus. The full pedal resource is featuring the melody, and we're doubling the manual parts. Beth moves to the top of the pedalboard and then all the way back down. I just have to get out of the way. It's particularly entertaining for the audience at that moment.

Beth: Philip Moore could have chosen to write that for Ray but that's what makes each composer's assignments for the duetists challenging.

Ray: Most composers have not written organ duets, and they're curious as to the format and idiosyncrasies. Therefore, we generally send a couple of our duets so they can see how it works. It helps to clarify so much before the first note is even written.

MVO: They must need some kind of a primer about how physically the duet can work.

Ray: Of course, there isn't a primer for writing duets. That's when our previously written duets become an invaluable composing document sampler. Sometimes we go back to the composer and tell them that doesn't work. We'll make suggestions based on our experience. Usually they're happy to do what is needed, perhaps dividing up the territory differently than written. Also, if the piece really doesn't work, then we have to go back to the drawing table again. Most composers get it figured out with only slight revisions. It's a fascinating process.

MVO: I recall you mentioning that you need a 3-manual organ in order to perform your repertoire. Do you ever have to turn concert requests down because the setting won't work?

Beth: We had to turn one down last year because it was a two-manual organ. We used to play on two-manual instruments, but it's too hard as we need more keyboards and tonal colors to bring out accompaniment and solo lines. If you have two or three themes going at the same time, you wouldn't hear them on a two-manual instrument.

Ray: We have done some concerts on two manuals, and we have to do creative arranging of the duets to make it work. But a small two-manual organ is just too limiting. If it's a fairly large two-manual organ, it's possible, but we would have to be very careful with the selection of repertoire. We wouldn't be able to showcase the commissions the way they were intended to be performed.

As you can imagine, as we play more concerts and build our repertoire, there are certain types of duets we want, and we go to trusted composers who will write what we need for our programs--some more contemporary, some more audience friendly. It's important to reach all of your audience members. Hopefully each audience member will take away something from our concert that feels special to them, and perhaps that will bring them back to another organ concert.

MVO: What do you think about when you're putting a program together? What makes it a good concert?

Ray: A primary consideration is to be sure the pieces fit the unique qualities of the organ and acoustic. The longer we're in this business, the more we find our audiences are people who want programs that speak to them. They want performers who communicate and move them emotionally.

Beth: We know we are a unique couple--unique as a husband and wife offering an entire program of organ duets--all commissioned or arranged for us. Audiences are already open to our special fare. That gives us a wonderful opportunity to perform a program filled with musicality and warmth. Our concerts strive to connect with many human emotions.

Ray: We might draw people to our duet organ concert that the ordinary solo performer may not. Husband and wife duets? What's this?

Beth: Oh, are there two organs? Four hands, four feet? It's a curiosity.

Ray: People say, you're duo organists, does that mean you play two instruments? We could have gone that route, but look how much that would have minimized our performing venues. So we specialize in duets for two organists at one console. That works. We may attrtact fifty people to a recital who may never have been to an organ concert, who come out of curiosity.

Beth: Part of our mission is to get them to come back.

Ray: We purposely program music that is very audience friendly. But we also know that AGO members will attend and they want to hear something that's highbrow. So we do a mix, all the way from Naji Hakim's Rhapsody--fascinating and unique--to Londonderry Air or Shenandoah or Stars and Stripes. We begin our programs with more contemporary music and generally progress towards audience-friendly selections.

Beth: It has been interesting when we've played our Litaize Sonate à Duet commission. I just love it, but a lot of musicians will say, "Goodness, that's really modern isn't it?" I don't hear it that way, even when we read through it the first time. If musicians don't always like the piece, we might not play it on programs.

Ray: We have to be very careful when we program music by Litaize. At an AGO convention, which is where we did the premiere, you've got people present who understand and appreciate this kind of literature, mainly because they have had more university training. A lot of them are used to playing works of that nature, so they would appreciate it. But if you go to a small community that might not be used to hearing a lot of sophisticated organ music, it might turn them off. You've got to be very careful and sensitive to the nature and backgrounds of your audiences.

Beth: For a long time, a lot of people were turned off to organ music.

MVO: Let's talk about that. Some people say it's the fault of organists because they're not doing what they need to do to reach audiences, and organists complain that their concerts are not well-attended. How do you see the picture?

Beth: I think things are turning around. Organists play so many recitals for other organists. While that is wonderful, and you want your colleagues to come, that's not always who supports what you're doing. You've got to play something for parishioners and folks in the community. I don't want to be a lightweight, but I want to play something that average people can enjoy, something that will encourage them to come back again for another program, or maybe go out and buy a CD of organ music.

I love Messiaen, but you can't play 45 minutes of it, except maybe on your graduate recital. You can't play that kind of program for the average community of people who are coming to support your church that has a new pipe organ. They might not come back again.

Ray: We saw that happen at an all-Messiaen program many years ago.

Beth: People left in droves at intermission.

Ray: The die-hard organists stuck it out because they knew what they were hearing and it was a unique opportunity. Even many of the local organists left.

Beth: Many people didn't come back. They talked negatively about that recital for a long time.

Ray: We heard them say, "I'll never come back to another organ concert." That just breaks your heart. We really work hard at programming. Appealing programming and good playing is the absolute secret to making audiences feel good about an organ concert. People know that our programs are going to be warm and friendly and the audiences respond favorably. After the concerts, people tell us it was the most enjoyable organ concert they've ever attended. I don't know whether it's our playing or the fact that we're husband and wife or the repertoire or a combination of all these things. The longer we're in the recital business, the more we find that our mission is to bring people to organ concerts and to inspire them to come back again.

Beth: And come back to your church concert series. Because you may have not only organists performing, but also other types of concerts or events offered for your community.

Ray: For instance, particularly since 9/11, often for encores we play a duet by Charlie Callahan called Evensong. It's based on the Tallis Canon and Ar hyd y nos, two well-known evening hymns with prayerful and meditative texts. With all the war talk in our world, we're all feeling scared. After playing Evensong many people comment on how appreciative they feel for this calming musical offering. It's not anything that you can put into words, but when we play those two beautiful tunes and the organ ends very quietly, you can hear a pin drop. It leaves people in a very warm place, and somehow feeling that maybe things are going to be okay.

Beth: The Ar hyd y nos hymn text ends "Sleep my child, peace be with you, all through the night."

Ray: We played Evensong on a concert the day Desert Storm started. Beth and I were weeping as we were playing it. It was a very special performance. We played it a couple of weeks ago as well for an encore and again, with the talk of war with Iraq, it became quite emotional for us to perform it.

Beth: Ray is from Fredericksburg, Virginia, and recently there had been the sniper attacks. When we had gone to Virginia for his aunt's funeral, we stopped at the gasoline station where one of the men was shot. So that was fresh on our minds.

Ray: Evensong is an illustration of the kind of repertoire that we've commissioned over the years. We have duets in our repertoire that we can perform for the occasion or respond to what is happening in the world.

Beth: If you want something in particular, we've got enough variety to fill the request.

Ray: We've been ending our concerts with The Stars and Stripes Forever. Since 9/11, Americans have become a lot more patriotic and appreciative of what we have in the United States.

Beth: American musicians need to promote more American music.

Ray: One of our missions is to promote American music. It's not that we don't commission outside of the United States, but we primarily concentrate on encouraging American composers to write by giving them an opportunity through our duet commissions. This is a valuable lesson I learned from one of my former teachers, Dr. Paul Callaway. Paul premiered many choral and organ works as organist/choirmaster of Washington Cathedral. Perhaps there is no finer legacy for a musician.

MVO: How do you work on learning music?

Beth: First, we work the duet on the piano individually and learn the keyboard parts first, then take it to the organ adding the pedaling and registration. Then we'll put things together slowly, working on problem areas and interpretation. When we first started, we would take turns switching Primo and Secondo parto, but we found it was difficult because as a duet performer, your center is off anyway. It's easier to get to one side and stick with it. At least, that works best for us.

Ray: I usually tell an audience that playing duets is like driving a stick shift car but from the passenger seat.

MVO: Do you have certain roles? Does one of you perhaps work more on registration?

Beth: Ray primarily does registration and I go out in the performing hall to listen and make suggestions.

Ray: I'll be the one at the instrument trying things. It's great to have another pair of ears in the room. We've all been in a solo situation where the organ chamber is halfway down the nave and you can't hear balance. In our situation, even though obviously I can't play all the parts, I can play enough of the duet so that we know what it sounds like once Beth resumes her role of performer.

Beth: As we spend more time with each instrument in a two- to three-day period, we continually tweak our initial registrations.

Ray: We collaborate on everything. We don't need a page-turner because we very carefully work out who turns the pages, who pushes the pistons, who works the expression boxes. It's very carefully orchestrated to avoid a mid-air collision.

Beth: Also, we work together on the programming.

Ray: And we'll go shopping together for Beth's performing outfits. We really collaborate on everything--our career, our jobs, our marriage. We're right there together. We are amazingly compatible.

MVO: Tell me how you collaborate at All Saints Church and the Lovett School.

Beth: Ray is the organist and choir master. I accompany the anthems and service music. Usually I'm at the console and he's conducting.

Ray: Beth is the associate organist/choirmaster and she never gives herself enough credit for what she does. We'll divide the choir rehearsal and do sectionals. She does that at the Lovett School as well. We co-direct the three high school choirs and she is also the accompanist. She trains the middle school choirs, which is a great feeder program for the high school, and she takes rehearsals for the high school choirs when I have administrative duties as director of fine arts. At church, I do most of the conducting, but Beth does most of the accompanying of the anthems and a lot of the preparatory sectionals. We share the preludes and postludes on Sunday morning, and we share the hymn playing.

MVO: You're working together at school, at church, and you're performing together. What makes that work? You must have your moments.

Beth: We're together so much, our personalities just gel.

Ray: I know people think I'm lying when I say this, but we are so compatible, it's almost unbelievable.

Beth: I miss him I if I don't see him for two or three hours.

Ray: We're soul mates and we knew it the moment we laid eyes on each other.

MVO: It shows.

Ray: One of the great joys of playing duet recitals it that we get to travel together. That's a real bonus. When we first started, before we developed the duet repertoire, I was under management as a solo artist. I would go on two or three-week tours and I really missed Beth and discovered that concertizing wasn't nearly as enjoyable without her by my side.

Beth: It's no fun traveling alone, sitting in some hotel room by yourself.

Ray: We get to share all of these things. If we ever have a cranky word for each other it's usually when we've been through a long day and we're both just exhausted. I can count on one hand the few little spats we've had and they've been so minor it's not even worth talking about. We're very fortunate and know it.

Beth: It is true.

Ray: God knew what he was doing when he put us together. We're very grateful for the opportunities we have.

MVO: Your collaboration seems to feed everything you do. It certainly isn't an encumbrance, a feeling of being yoked together. It's just the opposite.

Ray: Exactly. It wouldn't work for everybody. Some people say I'd be divorced by now if I had to spend that much time with my mate! And many of them are!

MVO: I've noticed something else that I believe is part of why people love to come to your concerts. You've created an image for yourselves. You're glamorous. [They both laugh.] I must tell you this story. A year ago, I was discussing concerts for the next season with my music board. None of them had ever heard of you or heard you play. I had just received your new publicity photo, so I showed it to them. The board's immediate response was a vote in favor of you coming to play a concert here. [Uproarious laughter.] I offered to get some recordings for them to review, but the response was, "No, that won't be necessary, we can just tell they would be really good."

Ray: Gosh, the power of that photo.

MVO: Clearly, you put in the effort to make your performances something special. Beth, I love the glamorous gowns you wear. I think organists could stand to do more of that. Would you dress that way anyway, or do you consciously make an extra effort for your performances?

Beth: One of our dear departed friends, Emily Spivey, a very elegant lady and wonderful organist and the powerhouse behind that fabulous concert hall, Spivey Hall, just south of Atlanta, gave us great advice early in our careers. Emily taught me the importance of glamour. She actually told me what to play and what to wear. She was a southern grand dame. She said people love to see glamour, and with organists, often you either see their backs or you don't see them at all. Emily said, "Spice it up, honey."

Ray: People want to know you're going to sound good, but ultimately, I think they want to connect with the artist more than anything else. As we all know, most of the time we're stuck in the balcony or behind a screen. In a church situation on Sunday mornings we're in a choir robe. We're sort of untouchable people--like in the Wizard of Oz, the person behind the curtain. People want to have contact with the artist. The first image they're going to have is just as you've expressed. They're going to see the picture our agent distributes. They will either be drawn in by that image or not. When we're all out there in a pool, a large body of artists and organists, there's got to be something that's going to draw them to you. We enjoy the glamour of it, but just sitting here, the three of us, we like this as much as anything. In fact, the best part of having the opportunity to concertize is getting to meet great people like you.

Beth: I love that.

Ray: Our greatest mission is to make contact with people like you--to get to know wonderful musicians, to have the opportunity to meet an audience and talk with them afterwards and shake their hands. And you become a family to us once we've come to your community and experienced your generosity and warm hospitality. It means a lot to us, and we don't take that for granted. You've given up a great deal of your time and part of your music budget in order to open your church and this wonderful instrument to us. We've been on the other end of that, too. We know what it takes to host musicians and a concert series. It's not something to be taken lightly.

MVO: What do you see for the future? Do you have a wish list?

Ray: We've got a recording project in mind for the new organ John-Paul Buzard is building for our church.

Beth: We've been holding off, waiting for the new organ as we want to feature the exceptional work of this talented organ builder.

Ray: We want to do something in a more popular vein. That's why we've asked Nicholas White for an arrangement of the musical Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Beth: We also have a great arrangement of the William Tell Overture by Alan Gibbs of England.

Ray: That's one we're going to record, and of course, we have Shenandoah. We're looking for something more popular, something that would appeal to the non-organist as well as the organist.

MVO: As more great concert hall organs are being built, could you envision a duo organ concerto?

Ray: I think down the road we'll probably commission a concerto for two organists.

As we bring in fees from our organ concerts, we turn around and put the money into a commission. No one underwrites this other than us. One of our biggest missions is to accumulate a large body of organ duet literature for future generations. We're spending the money to do that.

Beth: We want to have all of our duets published and recorded. We hope others will be inspired to play them.

Ray: We want to be careful that we get the best use of our money with the pieces we commission. Would a concerto for two organists get that much of a hearing? Concertos don't get played that much in general. And it's more expensive to get two organists to play plus the added expense of an orchestra. I think that's an idea that we'll talk about, but we'll choose the composer carefully. We would want it to be a duet concerto that would have a long life after the premiere.

MVO: I hope I'm there to hear it. Is there anything else you would like to share?

Ray: We played a recital at a monastery a couple of weeks ago, a monastery that also has an all-male high school. It was an interesting opportunity for Beth and me, having had background in church work, concert work and teaching in school. We were able to tie in all of our backgrounds in one setting. While we were practicing, the choir director would bring his choral students over. We talked about the organ, entertained their questions, and played some duets. Later, I would go over and listen to them sing and give them some feedback on how well they were doing, some ideas. We were able to meet with the monks and talk with them about their religion, opposed to where we are as Episcopalians.

Beth: We ate with them in the cafeteria and had wonderful opportunities for dialogue.

Ray: We were just fascinated at the concert as some of the monks were in their 90s and were wheelchair bound.

Beth: They practically wheeled them right up to the console in a special reserved area.

Ray: As we walked off after taking our bows, we noticed some of the monks that couldn't get around and couldn't even talk much. We communicated mainly through the wonderful expressions on their faces. We would hug them and hold their hands.

Beth: There was one man who had cancer, I assume of the voice box. He held up a card. He couldn't speak, but he really communicated with his face. He wrote us a very moving letter of thanks and said he hoped we'd return again soon. That's when you know you're using your God-given talent in the right way.

Ray: He wanted to shake our hands and we could tell he really enjoyed the music. These are the memorable experiences: the people you meet and how you're able to communicate with them.

Beth: It was a unique opportunity, to be able to talk to the young men at the academy. One wants to major in piano. He was talking to us about where to go to school and asked our advice on his future. That can be a defining moment in a young musician's life.

Ray: You never know what will inspire somebody to major in organ, or to be a church organist. The three of us can sit here and think of great opportunities we've had in our lives when hearing a certain person play an organ concert or a certain piece really excited us. Or a certain organ that inspired you or a teacher who took that extra special time. It might have changed your life. That happened to me. I would never be an organist today had my sister not had an organ teacher, Mr. Harold Abmyer, who happened to end up in Fredericksburg, Virginia. It's surprising to have had such a fabulous beginning organ teacher--it's not a big city, it's a rural area. Mr. Abmyer went to Union Theological Seminary, he studied with Clarence Dickinson, Seth Bingham . . .

Beth: Harold Friedell and many of the great musicians of that era.

Ray: Mr. Abmyer had great teachers in New York, and when he found a talented organ student--he made it into an apprenticeship. He was so excited to be able to impart the knowledge from these great master teachers, that an hour lesson would turn into five hours on a Saturday. That man changed my life. I would never be here today if it were not for him and for my beloved parents. We've all had opportunities like that. It's never just another day or another concert. It's a wonderful opportunity to connect and make a difference in someone's life.

Beth: To connect with somebody, wherever they are.

Ray: It's a great life and we just love it. Hopefully Beth and I have made a difference.

Elizabeth and Raymond Chenault have blazed a trail for the art of the organ duet, enchanting audiences with their enjoyable performances and charming personalities and ensuring the future of the genre with a wealth of commissioned repertoire. When you meet the Chenaults, an easy rapport develops immediately, and you feel as if you've known them a long time. They are genuine, sincere, fun-loving people, and these qualities feed their mission to connect with people through their music.

Both their career as duo organists and their marriage span nearly 30 years. Natives of Virginia, the Chenaults attended Virginia Commonwealth University, marrying after graduation in 1972. Ray attended Cincinnati Conservatory to earn a master's degree, and they both studied organ with Wayne Fisher during that time. Following his master's studies, Ray spent a year as organ scholar at Washington National Cathedral. The Chenaults moved to Atlanta in 1975, taking the positions of organists and choir masters at All Saints Episcopal Church, where they direct the music program and concert series. A year later, positions at the Lovett School--Ray as director of fine arts and choral director of the Upper School, Beth as choral director of the Middle School--rounded out their professional life. The Chenaults are managed by Phillip Truckenbrod Concert Artists.

I talked with them while they were in town to play a concert at the Glenview Community Church.

MVO: How did you get started performing duets?

Beth: When we started giving recitals, we thought it would be fun to play together because we're married. That was how we got started. Thomas Tomkins, the 16th-century British composer, wrote one of the earliest known organ duets, A Fancy for Two, which we programmed on our recitals. Early on, when we commissioned Gerre Hancock to write a piece, he took the same title, A Fancy for Two. Sometimes we would play both of those duets because we didn't have enough literature. We would play solo organ literature and put a few duets on the program.

Ray: When we began to research duet organ literature, we found there wasn't a lot written. There are theses and dissertations that have identified unpublished manuscripts of duets, but we focused on what was published. There was so little of it that we decided to start commissioning works.

MVO: So you started commissioning music not only because you wanted to, but also out of necessity.

Ray: Right. The idea really came unexpectedly. In 1978, Dr. Arthur Wills from Ely Cathedral in England played a recital on our concert series at All Saints Church, Atlanta. The second half of the program comprised his own music. I really liked what I was hearing, so after the concert I asked him if he'd be interested in writing us an organ duet. He immediately accepted and that became our first commission.

Beth: Toccata for Two is one of our favorite pieces and we premiered it at Washington National Cathedral.

Ray: Next, we asked John Rutter to write Variations on an Easter Theme for us which we also premiered at Washington Cathedral. We found out that audiences, organists and music critics were very excited about the duets we were commissioning. In fact they still are almost 25 years later. Now we have over forty commissions that we've either arranged or had written for us. Three CDs later, we've recorded a lot of our own works and have the Chenault Organ Duet Library that's been published by Belwin Mills. Our mission is to get the work out there and leave a body of work for organists to perform and audiences to enjoy.

MVO: Do you play your duo repertoire for church services, or do you stick to solos?

Beth: For church services, we've played Callahan's Evensong, Philip Moore's Allegro, and Variations on an Easter Theme by Rutter.

Ray: We use almost all our repertoire, except the secular pieces, for preludes and postludes.

Beth: We have even played The Stars and Stripes Forever for the postlude near the 4th of July. Our former rector, the Right Rev. Harry H. Pritchett, Jr., played the cymbals and the entire congregation would cheer him on.

Ray: Talk about fun for the congregation--the minister playing cymbals. That's one time they all stay for the postlude. When the minister hits the first crash of the cymbals the congregation will break into applause, I can assure you.

Beth: It's just great fun and a wonderful way to make organ music and the organist more accessible to the parishioners.

Ray: Charlie Callahan has already written two compositions for the first Sunday when we'll play the new John-Paul Buzard pipe organ at our church for services on All Saints Sunday this November 2003. One of these is a duet postlude on Sine Nomine.

MVO: When commissioning a piece, do you give the composer specific ideas or do you let him have free rein?

Beth: We've done both. When we first started, we had some definite ideas. With Philip Moore, we asked him to listen to our recital at Yorkminster Cathedral and make a suggestion about what we might need on the program. He suggested sonata-allegro form, so he used that form for the third movement of the Triptych which he wrote for us over a time period of five years. This wonderful composition works nicely as a larger work in three movements or by featuring one of them in concert.

Ray: Being a bit of a composer myself, I believe it's important for the composer to have inspiration for a piece or a particular theme, because then you get your best music. In general, we're open-minded and accepting of whatever a composer feels inspired to do. We've been very happy with most of our commissions and they're all very different. It's wonderful to see composers being inspired by what they want to write. Take The Emerald Isle for instance. Charlie Callahan's homeland is Ireland. When he found out we were going to be recording our second CD at Washington Cathedral--he knows that organ very well, he lived in Washington--he said he knew exactly what he wanted to write--a piece based on Londonderry Air. He was inspired to write one of our most appealing organ duets. He never missed an opportunity to extract every ounce of beauty from that popular theme. Being from Ireland, it had a very special meaning for him.

Beth: Nicholas White has just written an arrangement of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera for us.

Ray: We wanted something fun for our audiences and Phantom is our favorite musical. Nick lives in New York. He loves musical theatre and plays jazz, so he was the ideal choice for this commission. When we commissioned him the first time, we specifically asked for an arrangement of Shenandoah, because Beth is from the little town of Shenandoah in Virginia. We love that beautiful folk tune and our audiences love it, too.

Beth: The Shenandoah River goes through my hometown, and some of the piece was cleverly written by Nick to sound like the rippling water. He also throws in Moon River and Strangers in the Night for added pleasure.

MVO: Do the composers usually give specific registrations in the scores?

Ray: Mostly they're very specific about what they want. Occasionally, they just give dynamic levels and registration suggestions. A lot of times we'll go back and ask them specifically what they want. It's a lot easier if they are specific, then we can take creative license, depending on the organ.

Beth: We've often had coaching sessions with the composer. Conrad Susa made only dynamic suggestions in Canticle. So we found it very helpful to play the duet for him and get his immediate feedback to our interpretation and registration.

Ray: Stephen Paulus has written for us Triumph of the Saint, a large symphonic type three-movement duet, which had only dynamic suggestions. We met with Steve and then he gave more specific registration suggestions. He waits to hear the piece first. It's fun to get the composer's input and ideas. You learn so much from them.

Beth: On the other hand, in the score of Rhapsody, which we premiered in Atlanta for the 1992 National AGO Convention, Naji Hakim was very specific.

Ray: He was specific to the stop, and it's rewarding to recreate that, even though his work is written with the French organ sound in mind. Some American organs do that more successfully than others, but you create that sound as best you can when you get to different instruments. Some of the composers write for four feet, some have Beth do most of the pedaling because she's sitting on the left hand side. In the Naji Hakim piece, we both have double pedaling which is an added sonority.

Beth: At one point in the last Allegro movement of Philip Moore's Triptyque, Ray almost gets off the organ bench as I move all the way up to high E on the pedalboard. The balance issue really comes into play and both players must be totally in sync in such instances.

Ray: You'll see me almost get up and stand beside the bench while I'm still playing just to get out of Beth's zone. She, at that point, becomes a solo player because the pedal work is the main focus. The full pedal resource is featuring the melody, and we're doubling the manual parts. Beth moves to the top of the pedalboard and then all the way back down. I just have to get out of the way. It's particularly entertaining for the audience at that moment.

Beth: Philip Moore could have chosen to write that for Ray but that's what makes each composer's assignments for the duetists challenging.

Ray: Most composers have not written organ duets, and they're curious as to the format and idiosyncrasies. Therefore, we generally send a couple of our duets so they can see how it works. It helps to clarify so much before the first note is even written.

MVO: They must need some kind of a primer about how physically the duet can work.

Ray: Of course, there isn't a primer for writing duets. That's when our previously written duets become an invaluable composing document sampler. Sometimes we go back to the composer and tell them that doesn't work. We'll make suggestions based on our experience. Usually they're happy to do what is needed, perhaps dividing up the territory differently than written. Also, if the piece really doesn't work, then we have to go back to the drawing table again. Most composers get it figured out with only slight revisions. It's a fascinating process.

MVO: I recall you mentioning that you need a 3-manual organ in order to perform your repertoire. Do you ever have to turn concert requests down because the setting won't work?

Beth: We had to turn one down last year because it was a two-manual organ. We used to play on two-manual instruments, but it's too hard as we need more keyboards and tonal colors to bring out accompaniment and solo lines. If you have two or three themes going at the same time, you wouldn't hear them on a two-manual instrument.

Ray: We have done some concerts on two manuals, and we have to do creative arranging of the duets to make it work. But a small two-manual organ is just too limiting. If it's a fairly large two-manual organ, it's possible, but we would have to be very careful with the selection of repertoire. We wouldn't be able to showcase the commissions the way they were intended to be performed.

As you can imagine, as we play more concerts and build our repertoire, there are certain types of duets we want, and we go to trusted composers who will write what we need for our programs--some more contemporary, some more audience friendly. It's important to reach all of your audience members. Hopefully each audience member will take away something from our concert that feels special to them, and perhaps that will bring them back to another organ concert.

MVO: What do you think about when you're putting a program together? What makes it a good concert?

Ray: A primary consideration is to be sure the pieces fit the unique qualities of the organ and acoustic. The longer we're in this business, the more we find our audiences are people who want programs that speak to them. They want performers who communicate and move them emotionally.

Beth: We know we are a unique couple--unique as a husband and wife offering an entire program of organ duets--all commissioned or arranged for us. Audiences are already open to our special fare. That gives us a wonderful opportunity to perform a program filled with musicality and warmth. Our concerts strive to connect with many human emotions.

Ray: We might draw people to our duet organ concert that the ordinary solo performer may not. Husband and wife duets? What's this?

Beth: Oh, are there two organs? Four hands, four feet? It's a curiosity.

Ray: People say, you're duo organists, does that mean you play two instruments? We could have gone that route, but look how much that would have minimized our performing venues. So we specialize in duets for two organists at one console. That works. We may attrtact fifty people to a recital who may never have been to an organ concert, who come out of curiosity.

Beth: Part of our mission is to get them to come back.

Ray: We purposely program music that is very audience friendly. But we also know that AGO members will attend and they want to hear something that's highbrow. So we do a mix, all the way from Naji Hakim's Rhapsody--fascinating and unique--to Londonderry Air or Shenandoah or Stars and Stripes. We begin our programs with more contemporary music and generally progress towards audience-friendly selections.

Beth: It has been interesting when we've played our Litaize Sonate à Duet commission. I just love it, but a lot of musicians will say, "Goodness, that's really modern isn't it?" I don't hear it that way, even when we read through it the first time. If musicians don't always like the piece, we might not play it on programs.

Ray: We have to be very careful when we program music by Litaize. At an AGO convention, which is where we did the premiere, you've got people present who understand and appreciate this kind of literature, mainly because they have had more university training. A lot of them are used to playing works of that nature, so they would appreciate it. But if you go to a small community that might not be used to hearing a lot of sophisticated organ music, it might turn them off. You've got to be very careful and sensitive to the nature and backgrounds of your audiences.

Beth: For a long time, a lot of people were turned off to organ music.

MVO: Let's talk about that. Some people say it's the fault of organists because they're not doing what they need to do to reach audiences, and organists complain that their concerts are not well-attended. How do you see the picture?

Beth: I think things are turning around. Organists play so many recitals for other organists. While that is wonderful, and you want your colleagues to come, that's not always who supports what you're doing. You've got to play something for parishioners and folks in the community. I don't want to be a lightweight, but I want to play something that average people can enjoy, something that will encourage them to come back again for another program, or maybe go out and buy a CD of organ music.

I love Messiaen, but you can't play 45 minutes of it, except maybe on your graduate recital. You can't play that kind of program for the average community of people who are coming to support your church that has a new pipe organ. They might not come back again.

Ray: We saw that happen at an all-Messiaen program many years ago.

Beth: People left in droves at intermission.

Ray: The die-hard organists stuck it out because they knew what they were hearing and it was a unique opportunity. Even many of the local organists left.

Beth: Many people didn't come back. They talked negatively about that recital for a long time.

Ray: We heard them say, "I'll never come back to another organ concert." That just breaks your heart. We really work hard at programming. Appealing programming and good playing is the absolute secret to making audiences feel good about an organ concert. People know that our programs are going to be warm and friendly and the audiences respond favorably. After the concerts, people tell us it was the most enjoyable organ concert they've ever attended. I don't know whether it's our playing or the fact that we're husband and wife or the repertoire or a combination of all these things. The longer we're in the recital business, the more we find that our mission is to bring people to organ concerts and to inspire them to come back again.

Beth: And come back to your church concert series. Because you may have not only organists performing, but also other types of concerts or events offered for your community.

Ray: For instance, particularly since 9/11, often for encores we play a duet by Charlie Callahan called Evensong. It's based on the Tallis Canon and Ar hyd y nos, two well-known evening hymns with prayerful and meditative texts. With all the war talk in our world, we're all feeling scared. After playing Evensong many people comment on how appreciative they feel for this calming musical offering. It's not anything that you can put into words, but when we play those two beautiful tunes and the organ ends very quietly, you can hear a pin drop. It leaves people in a very warm place, and somehow feeling that maybe things are going to be okay.

Beth: The Ar hyd y nos hymn text ends "Sleep my child, peace be with you, all through the night."

Ray: We played Evensong on a concert the day Desert Storm started. Beth and I were weeping as we were playing it. It was a very special performance. We played it a couple of weeks ago as well for an encore and again, with the talk of war with Iraq, it became quite emotional for us to perform it.

Beth: Ray is from Fredericksburg, Virginia, and recently there had been the sniper attacks. When we had gone to Virginia for his aunt's funeral, we stopped at the gasoline station where one of the men was shot. So that was fresh on our minds.

Ray: Evensong is an illustration of the kind of repertoire that we've commissioned over the years. We have duets in our repertoire that we can perform for the occasion or respond to what is happening in the world.

Beth: If you want something in particular, we've got enough variety to fill the request.

Ray: We've been ending our concerts with The Stars and Stripes Forever. Since 9/11, Americans have become a lot more patriotic and appreciative of what we have in the United States.

Beth: American musicians need to promote more American music.

Ray: One of our missions is to promote American music. It's not that we don't commission outside of the United States, but we primarily concentrate on encouraging American composers to write by giving them an opportunity through our duet commissions. This is a valuable lesson I learned from one of my former teachers, Dr. Paul Callaway. Paul premiered many choral and organ works as organist/choirmaster of Washington Cathedral. Perhaps there is no finer legacy for a musician.

MVO: How do you work on learning music?

Beth: First, we work the duet on the piano individually and learn the keyboard parts first, then take it to the organ adding the pedaling and registration. Then we'll put things together slowly, working on problem areas and interpretation. When we first started, we would take turns switching Primo and Secondo parto, but we found it was difficult because as a duet performer, your center is off anyway. It's easier to get to one side and stick with it. At least, that works best for us.

Ray: I usually tell an audience that playing duets is like driving a stick shift car but from the passenger seat.

MVO: Do you have certain roles? Does one of you perhaps work more on registration?

Beth: Ray primarily does registration and I go out in the performing hall to listen and make suggestions.

Ray: I'll be the one at the instrument trying things. It's great to have another pair of ears in the room. We've all been in a solo situation where the organ chamber is halfway down the nave and you can't hear balance. In our situation, even though obviously I can't play all the parts, I can play enough of the duet so that we know what it sounds like once Beth resumes her role of performer.

Beth: As we spend more time with each instrument in a two- to three-day period, we continually tweak our initial registrations.

Ray: We collaborate on everything. We don't need a page-turner because we very carefully work out who turns the pages, who pushes the pistons, who works the expression boxes. It's very carefully orchestrated to avoid a mid-air collision.

Beth: Also, we work together on the programming.

Ray: And we'll go shopping together for Beth's performing outfits. We really collaborate on everything--our career, our jobs, our marriage. We're right there together. We are amazingly compatible.

MVO: Tell me how you collaborate at All Saints Church and the Lovett School.

Beth: Ray is the organist and choir master. I accompany the anthems and service music. Usually I'm at the console and he's conducting.

Ray: Beth is the associate organist/choirmaster and she never gives herself enough credit for what she does. We'll divide the choir rehearsal and do sectionals. She does that at the Lovett School as well. We co-direct the three high school choirs and she is also the accompanist. She trains the middle school choirs, which is a great feeder program for the high school, and she takes rehearsals for the high school choirs when I have administrative duties as director of fine arts. At church, I do most of the conducting, but Beth does most of the accompanying of the anthems and a lot of the preparatory sectionals. We share the preludes and postludes on Sunday morning, and we share the hymn playing.

MVO: You're working together at school, at church, and you're performing together. What makes that work? You must have your moments.

Beth: We're together so much, our personalities just gel.

Ray: I know people think I'm lying when I say this, but we are so compatible, it's almost unbelievable.

Beth: I miss him I if I don't see him for two or three hours.

Ray: We're soul mates and we knew it the moment we laid eyes on each other.

MVO: It shows.

Ray: One of the great joys of playing duet recitals it that we get to travel together. That's a real bonus. When we first started, before we developed the duet repertoire, I was under management as a solo artist. I would go on two or three-week tours and I really missed Beth and discovered that concertizing wasn't nearly as enjoyable without her by my side.

Beth: It's no fun traveling alone, sitting in some hotel room by yourself.

Ray: We get to share all of these things. If we ever have a cranky word for each other it's usually when we've been through a long day and we're both just exhausted. I can count on one hand the few little spats we've had and they've been so minor it's not even worth talking about. We're very fortunate and know it.

Beth: It is true.

Ray: God knew what he was doing when he put us together. We're very grateful for the opportunities we have.

MVO: Your collaboration seems to feed everything you do. It certainly isn't an encumbrance, a feeling of being yoked together. It's just the opposite.

Ray: Exactly. It wouldn't work for everybody. Some people say I'd be divorced by now if I had to spend that much time with my mate! And many of them are!

MVO: I've noticed something else that I believe is part of why people love to come to your concerts. You've created an image for yourselves. You're glamorous. [They both laugh.] I must tell you this story. A year ago, I was discussing concerts for the next season with my music board. None of them had ever heard of you or heard you play. I had just received your new publicity photo, so I showed it to them. The board's immediate response was a vote in favor of you coming to play a concert here. [Uproarious laughter.] I offered to get some recordings for them to review, but the response was, "No, that won't be necessary, we can just tell they would be really good."

Ray: Gosh, the power of that photo.

MVO: Clearly, you put in the effort to make your performances something special. Beth, I love the glamorous gowns you wear. I think organists could stand to do more of that. Would you dress that way anyway, or do you consciously make an extra effort for your performances?

Beth: One of our dear departed friends, Emily Spivey, a very elegant lady and wonderful organist and the powerhouse behind that fabulous concert hall, Spivey Hall, just south of Atlanta, gave us great advice early in our careers. Emily taught me the importance of glamour. She actually told me what to play and what to wear. She was a southern grand dame. She said people love to see glamour, and with organists, often you either see their backs or you don't see them at all. Emily said, "Spice it up, honey."

Ray: People want to know you're going to sound good, but ultimately, I think they want to connect with the artist more than anything else. As we all know, most of the time we're stuck in the balcony or behind a screen. In a church situation on Sunday mornings we're in a choir robe. We're sort of untouchable people--like in the Wizard of Oz, the person behind the curtain. People want to have contact with the artist. The first image they're going to have is just as you've expressed. They're going to see the picture our agent distributes. They will either be drawn in by that image or not. When we're all out there in a pool, a large body of artists and organists, there's got to be something that's going to draw them to you. We enjoy the glamour of it, but just sitting here, the three of us, we like this as much as anything. In fact, the best part of having the opportunity to concertize is getting to meet great people like you.

Beth: I love that.

Ray: Our greatest mission is to make contact with people like you--to get to know wonderful musicians, to have the opportunity to meet an audience and talk with them afterwards and shake their hands. And you become a family to us once we've come to your community and experienced your generosity and warm hospitality. It means a lot to us, and we don't take that for granted. You've given up a great deal of your time and part of your music budget in order to open your church and this wonderful instrument to us. We've been on the other end of that, too. We know what it takes to host musicians and a concert series. It's not something to be taken lightly.

MVO: What do you see for the future? Do you have a wish list?

Ray: We've got a recording project in mind for the new organ John-Paul Buzard is building for our church.

Beth: We've been holding off, waiting for the new organ as we want to feature the exceptional work of this talented organ builder.

Ray: We want to do something in a more popular vein. That's why we've asked Nicholas White for an arrangement of the musical Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Beth: We also have a great arrangement of the William Tell Overture by Alan Gibbs of England.

Ray: That's one we're going to record, and of course, we have Shenandoah. We're looking for something more popular, something that would appeal to the non-organist as well as the organist.

MVO: As more great concert hall organs are being built, could you envision a duo organ concerto?

Ray: I think down the road we'll probably commission a concerto for two organists.

As we bring in fees from our organ concerts, we turn around and put the money into a commission. No one underwrites this other than us. One of our biggest missions is to accumulate a large body of organ duet literature for future generations. We're spending the money to do that.

Beth: We want to have all of our duets published and recorded. We hope others will be inspired to play them.

Ray: We want to be careful that we get the best use of our money with the pieces we commission. Would a concerto for two organists get that much of a hearing? Concertos don't get played that much in general. And it's more expensive to get two organists to play plus the added expense of an orchestra. I think that's an idea that we'll talk about, but we'll choose the composer carefully. We would want it to be a duet concerto that would have a long life after the premiere.

MVO: I hope I'm there to hear it. Is there anything else you would like to share?

Ray: We played a recital at a monastery a couple of weeks ago, a monastery that also has an all-male high school. It was an interesting opportunity for Beth and me, having had background in church work, concert work and teaching in school. We were able to tie in all of our backgrounds in one setting. While we were practicing, the choir director would bring his choral students over. We talked about the organ, entertained their questions, and played some duets. Later, I would go over and listen to them sing and give them some feedback on how well they were doing, some ideas. We were able to meet with the monks and talk with them about their religion, opposed to where we are as Episcopalians.

Beth: We ate with them in the cafeteria and had wonderful opportunities for dialogue.

Ray: We were just fascinated at the concert as some of the monks were in their 90s and were wheelchair bound.

Beth: They practically wheeled them right up to the console in a special reserved area.

Ray: As we walked off after taking our bows, we noticed some of the monks that couldn't get around and couldn't even talk much. We communicated mainly through the wonderful expressions on their faces. We would hug them and hold their hands.

Beth: There was one man who had cancer, I assume of the voice box. He held up a card. He couldn't speak, but he really communicated with his face. He wrote us a very moving letter of thanks and said he hoped we'd return again soon. That's when you know you're using your God-given talent in the right way.

Ray: He wanted to shake our hands and we could tell he really enjoyed the music. These are the memorable experiences: the people you meet and how you're able to communicate with them.

Beth: It was a unique opportunity, to be able to talk to the young men at the academy. One wants to major in piano. He was talking to us about where to go to school and asked our advice on his future. That can be a defining moment in a young musician's life.

Ray: You never know what will inspire somebody to major in organ, or to be a church organist. The three of us can sit here and think of great opportunities we've had in our lives when hearing a certain person play an organ concert or a certain piece really excited us. Or a certain organ that inspired you or a teacher who took that extra special time. It might have changed your life. That happened to me. I would never be an organist today had my sister not had an organ teacher, Mr. Harold Abmyer, who happened to end up in Fredericksburg, Virginia. It's surprising to have had such a fabulous beginning organ teacher--it's not a big city, it's a rural area. Mr. Abmyer went to Union Theological Seminary, he studied with Clarence Dickinson, Seth Bingham . . .

Beth: Harold Friedell and many of the great musicians of that era.

Ray: Mr. Abmyer had great teachers in New York, and when he found a talented organ student--he made it into an apprenticeship. He was so excited to be able to impart the knowledge from these great master teachers, that an hour lesson would turn into five hours on a Saturday. That man changed my life. I would never be here today if it were not for him and for my beloved parents. We've all had opportunities like that. It's never just another day or another concert. It's a wonderful opportunity to connect and make a difference in someone's life.

Beth: To connect with somebody, wherever they are.

Ray: It's a great life and we just love it. Hopefully Beth and I have made a difference.

Raymond H. Herbek (1924–2014): A Life in Music

Donald R. Traser
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On March 2, 2014, the Feast of the Transfiguration, Raymond H. Herbek began his own transfiguration from an earthly body to an immortal one. I had known Ray, as he was called, for 40 years and always found him to be amiable, interested in what others were doing, and eager to share many wonderful stories about his life and career in music.

Following Ray’s second retirement, he was my regular substitute at the Second Presbyterian Church in Petersburg, Virginia (we both lived in Richmond). There would often be an aria or sacred song that fit the lections, but the small and aging choir would not be able to sing it. On those occasions Ray would occasionally ride to church with me, and I’d sing the aria with him accompanying. Those rides to and from church were good listening opportunities for me. The last one was in January 2014, when I told him I’d like to bring a recorder sometime and have him tell those stories for posterity. He agreed, but sadly, that never happened. What follows are my memories, often sketchy, supplemented with occasional facts from his family.

Raymond Herbek was born in New York City in 1924. His father worked for AT&T; his mother was a homemaker. Though the Herbeks were members of the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, Mrs. Herbek was the soprano soloist at the prestigious Church of the Ascension on Fifth Avenue. Son Ray began his choir training as a boy soprano at the Church of the Transfiguration, popularly known as the Little Church around the Corner, and was confirmed there. The family lived both in Queens and the Bronx, and Ray commented that it was nothing for a ten-year-old boy to ride the subway by himself to and from the church. 

When his voice changed, Ray’s singing career came to an end, and he had to content himself with turning pages for the organist, which apparently instilled in him his love of the organ and was where he first studied organ. When he filled out the “What Do You Want to Be?” questionnaire in high school, his answer was “church organist.” He reflected, “How often do you get to do what you think you’d like to do? I’ve been very fortunate in that regard.”1

Ray was drafted into the U.S. Army and at one point was stationed at Fort Lee, near Petersburg. He began substituting for the organist at Petersburg’s West End Baptist Church. Following his discharge from military service, he accepted a full-time position there. West End Church had a three-manual Pilcher organ (1940, Opus 1918), rebuilt by Phillip Beaudry & Co. in 1982–84 and left behind in the building when the church subsequently relocated out of the city.  

Richard Cummins, a church musician now in Roanoke, Virginia, is a Petersburg native who began his organ studies with Ray Herbek. He recalled that not only was Ray the first full-time music director at West End Church, but the only full-time church music director in the city.

It was at West End that Ray met his future wife, Leah Jordan. Her family lived catty-corner from the church, and she was appointed to help him with the order of service and explain how things were done there. The Herbek children, Tom and Gary, were born in Petersburg, and Cummins remembers that Ray would stop at a laundromat on his way to their lessons, leave the diapers in the washer, and pick them up afterward.

Leah Herbek had a younger brother who was about the same age as their minister’s son, and the boys were playmates. One Saturday evening, the boys were in the church for some purpose or another. In the minister’s study the typescript for his sermon was laid out on the desk. As reported by the brother, in the margin was the annotation, “cry here.” So much for spontaneity in preaching! 

A chart at back of the printed history of the church lists Raymond Herbek as music director beginning in 1947, adding organist duties in 1949. Ray was baptized at West End Church so that he could transfer his membership to the location of his next church job. He resigned December 10, 1952.2

The invitation to come to Selma, Alabama, arrived unsolicited. Ray related that one day a letter arrived in the mail asking if he would consider a move to First Baptist Church there. He would again be the first full-time musician in that church. The church had a new three-manual Austin organ (Opus 2103), which is still there, plus a large Tiffany window depicting the baptism of Jesus, and a Tiffany mosaic.

The clergyman was an older bachelor who didn’t even own a house, just rented a few rooms. His needs were simple, so he declared that his salary would be no higher than anyone else on the staff—the minister, an assistant, the music director, and the administrator all made $4,800 per year. Ray commented that was the only time in his career that happened.

The Herbek children had respiratory problems due to the extremely humid climate in Selma, and their father resigned his position in October 1954.

The family next moved to Norfolk, Virginia, where Ray became, once more, the first full-time music director of First Baptist Church. It was during this time that he attended the Norfolk division of the College of William and Mary (now Old Dominion University) and received his BA degree in organ. Ray obviously had extensive training even prior to his Petersburg tenure, possibly from the organist/choirmaster of Little Church, since he received his AAGO certification in 1945 and his ChM certification in 1948.

The Herbeks’ next move was to Richmond, Virginia, where Ray would remain for the rest of his life. He began his tenure at the First Baptist Church in August 1962, again the first full-time music director. 

Richmond’s First Baptist Church dates from 1780. At the time of the Herbeks’ arrival it was among the larger churches in Richmond, if not the largest, with more than 3,500 members. It was under the leadership of Dr. Theodore F. Adams (1898–1980) who, among other achievements, had been president of the Baptist World Alliance and on the cover of Time magazine. Dr. Adams believed that a church of such size should offer more music opportunities to its membership, and the decision was made to employ a full-time musician. The post was offered to the incumbent, who declined it in order to remain in his position with Richmond Public Schools. Dr. Adams sought out Ray Herbek. When he arrived, Adams told him (paraphrased), “If you let me know what you’re doing, I will always support you. If you don’t let me know, I can’t help you.” 

The church’s four-manual 1928 Skinner organ, Opus 728, rebuilt in 1953 by Aeolian-Skinner as Opus 728-A, had been played by many famous visiting organists over the years. When the antiphonal division was destroyed in a 1965 fire, it was replaced by Casavant Frères. Casavant replaced the main organ in 1971 with their Opus 3087. With four manuals and 92 ranks it was, and remains, the largest instrument in the city. It was dedicated by Virgil Fox (who had played the previous instrument ten years earlier) with a standing-room-only audience.

First Church had the once-traditional paid quartet in addition to the adult choir. The quartet sat and stood together, surrounded by the choir. Ray got into hot water early on when he decided that the quartet singers should be located in their respective sections, eliciting loud complaints from many over this disruption of tradition.

A set of handbells was quietly donated to the church. Ray joked, “I didn’t know which end of the bell to blow into!” His family recalls Ray coming home one evening with three “suitcases” full of bells. They were removed from the cases and set up on the dining room table, and the family was taught how to play them. Soon the bells were introduced to the church, with the family playing Old Hundredth at a Sunday service. This was the beginning of numerous handbell ensembles, which would eventually play for the Governor of Virginia, at the White House for five presidents, in England and on the Continent, for broadcasts, and play the national anthem for sporting events.

Two of the aforementioned foreign trips were most intriguing. On a trip to Paris, a misstep early on resulted in a broken ankle. Ray declared, “I’m not going to miss Paris,” and carried out the full schedule, not seeking medical attention until the return home.

Another trip was to Brazil, which was probably Ray alone rather than with the choirs. I seem to remember that this may have been arranged through some denominational connections, with Ray playing a series of concerts around the country. One of his sons thinks it may have included other South American countries as well. His organ composition Variations on a Brazilian Folk Song was written for this trip. Tom Herbek remembers that one of his father’s souvenirs was a beautiful blue plate, adorned with luminescent butterfly wings.

During his Richmond years, Ray received a Master of Music degree in composition from Virginia Commonwealth University, probably studying with the late Milton Cherry, and later on a Ph.D. from Columbia Pacific University. In his office at FBC many years ago I remember him pointing to a foot-high stack of music on a shelf—choral, handbell, and organ music—commenting, “Those are all of my published compositions.” Around 2000, when I was writing The Organ in Richmond, published in 2001 by the Richmond AGO chapter, Ray told me that he had compositions currently in print with 25 different publishers. By the time of his death, his total compositional output was some 400 pieces.

This included 21 volumes of handbell music, three collections of organ music, plus individual works. One cantata, Thou Mighty Word, was composed for the 150th anniversary of the Baptist General Association of Virginia, and another, The Miracles of the Lord, for the church’s bicentennial in 1980.3 Two of the three organ volumes (Hear My Prayer: Psalms for the Organ and Chime Preludes for the Organ) are in my personal library. Both were published by Broadman Press and are not difficult. Hear My Prayer comprises a dozen selections based on Psalm verses—a prelude, offertory, and postlude each from four Psalms. One of the chime preludes is currently featured on YouTube, played by Finnish organist Marko Hakanpää (www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEP7lNdYMEA).

In 1984 a separate choir director was employed at First Church, and Ray was given the title of Distinguished Musician. His duties then included playing the organ, directing six bell choirs, and being composer in residence. September 10, 1989, was observed as “Ray Herbek Day” at the church, marking his retirement. By this time, there were 16 ensembles, vocal and handbell.

Not too long into retirement Ray decided he would apply for a part-time position at a smaller church for “a year or so.” This turned into 17 years at Chamberlayne Heights United Methodist Church, playing the organ and directing adult and handbell choirs. The Chamberlayne Heights folks became travelers, as well, making at least one trip to England. His second retirement, at age 85 in 2009, was the occasion of his last organ recital, to a full house with a gala reception following.

In addition to music and his family, Ray was a great baseball enthusiast. He attended ballgames at Yankee Stadium as a youngster, where he saw such greats as Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Joe DiMaggio. Richmond’s minor-league team for some years was the Richmond Braves, and the Herbeks had season tickets for over 20 years. Ray was very proud of one of his grandsons who was drafted by the Chicago White Sox organization and played for them for two and a half years. Dr. P. J. Flamming, the last FBC clergyman with whom Ray would work, recalled that on his way to the organ Ray would sometimes pop into the study and ask, “Have you got the right pitch lined up?” Flamming would respond, “Well, if I don’t, don’t play the national anthem in the middle of my sermon.”

The Herbeks moved to the Hermitage, a United Methodist home, in 2013. Ray was delighted that they were able to keep the phone number they’d had for over 50 years! Leah Herbek (who passed away on May 25, 2014) had been in declining health for some time. After a number of years of buying prepared foods, Ray was thrilled to be able to sit at a table with linen tablecloth and napkin and order his meal.

A memorial service was held at Chamberlayne Heights United Methodist Church on March 15, 2014, with the Rev. Livingstone Dore giving the sermon, and tributes offered by both Herbek sons, four grandsons, and Dr. Flamming.

Ray began a tradition at FBC that continued during his time at Chamberlayne Heights. One year he played the Toccata from the Widor Fifth Symphony as the Easter Sunday postlude at First Church. A few people stayed to listen. Each year, more and more stayed until, finally, there were hundreds who remained.

Tom Herbek recalled that he knew his father to be a good musician, but he didn’t realize just how good until one Easter when he turned pages for that postlude. While turning a page the whole score came off the music rack and became entangled with the pedals. He was able to retrieve the score but then had no idea where they were! No matter. His father never missed a beat, and finished the piece from memory. It was the postlude to his memorial service, played by former student Dwight Graham. 

 

Notes

1. Donald R. Traser, The Organ in Richmond (Richmond: Richmond Chapter of the American Guild of Organists, 2001), p. 232.

2. Stan H. Covington, Jr., Passing the Torch: A History of West End Baptist Church, Petersburg, Virginia, 1882–1985 (Petersburg, Virginia: West End Baptist Church, 1990), pp. 194, 202, 204.

3. Blanche Sydnor White and Frederick J. Anderson, The Open Door: A History of First Baptist Church, Richmond, Virginia, 1780–2005 (Richmond: First Baptist Church, 2006), p. 255.

In the wind . . .

John Bishop

John Bishop is executive director of the Organ Clearing House.

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A matter of perception
In the March 2009 issue of The Diapason, I wrote:
Busy organists might be playing on dozens of instruments each year, but there are also many examples of lifelong relationships between players and their “home base” organs. Marcel Dupré played hundreds of recitals all over the world, but he was Organiste Titulaire at Saint-Sulpice in Paris from 1934 until 1971. He succeeded Charles-Marie Widor, who had held the position since 1870. So for more than a century that great Cavaillé-Coll organ was played principally by two brilliant musicians. What a glorious heritage. Daniel Roth has been on that same well-worn bench since 1985. I first attended worship in that church in 1998 and vividly remember noticing elderly members of the congregation who would remember the days when Dupré was their parish organist. I suppose there still may be a few. I wonder if any of them cornered Dupré after church to complain that the organ was too loud!
Ladislaw Pfeifer of the Cathedral of St. Michael the Archangel in Springfield, Massachusetts wrote,

Dear Mr. Bishop,
In your most recent Diapason article, you wondered if any of Marcel Dupré’s parishioners ever thought that he played too loud. That made me immediately recall a story that Robert Rayfield (organ dept. at IU—long time ago) enjoyed telling. He attended Mass at Dupré’s parish with some friends and Dupré was improvising the postlude in a manner worthy of The Church. Rayfield and his companions were ecstatic and then they noticed a woman kneeling in prayer trembling with her hands over her ears. The postlude ended and her hands came down. One of Rayfield’s companions approached the woman and asked why she covered her ears. She made a dramatic gesture, shook her head and said, “C’est épouvantable et c’est comme ça toutes les semaines.” “It’s terrible and it’s like this every week!”

I thought I was joking when I wondered if parishioners thought Dupré played too loud. What one thinks is sublime and inspiring, the other thinks is horrible—an imposition.
Marcel Dupré’s improvised postludes were instantly created, never to be heard again, brilliant art works. I imagine that they were sometimes furious, sometimes joyful, always complex, and yes, often very loud. The Cavaillé-Coll organ in St. Sulpice is a mighty instrument. Those visiting organists, schooled in the bewildering languages of musical expression, were transfixed and thrilled. The above-mentioned woman felt assaulted.
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Architect Frank Gehry has created some fascinating designs—buildings rife with curved lines and wavy spaces. The Experience Music Project is an interactive museum in Seattle, Washington, commissioned by Paul Allen and dedicated to Jimi Hendrix. You can find a fine photo gallery at <http://www.flickr.com/photos/heritagefutures/sets/72157604116603161/&gt;. I visited the EMP several years ago and found the building to be daring, unique, challenging, and complicated—I loved it. A colleague who lives in Seattle shared the local comment that it looks as though the Space Needle (next door) got undressed and threw her clothes in a heap, a sentiment that reminds me of the nickname given to another of Gehry’s controversial designs—the Disney Hall organ in Los Angeles as a “large order of fries.”
How do we react to innovation? I was organist of a suburban Congregational church when the United Church of Christ introduced The New Century Hymnal. Our parish purchased the new hymnal with a program of memorial gifts, and the old copies of the Pilgrim Hymnal were given to a hurricane-ravaged church in Mississippi. The congregation loved some of the hymns that were new to them and loved the fact that some “old chestnuts” that were missing from the Pilgrim Hymnal were present in the new one. They grappled with the altered words of Christmas carols (Good Christian friends, rejoice; Let every heart prepare Christ room; O come in adoration, Christ is Lord), and the modernization of language (Nearer my God to you . . . ). But the general reaction was positive, and we had lots of fun exploring together. During this months-long conversation I came across a printed review of another new hymnal that complained bitterly about the sacrilege of changing words in familiar hymns, of favorites being expunged, and of complicated new hymns being introduced. I published it in the parish newsletter, leaving for last the fact that it was a review written sixty years earlier about the then new Pilgrim Hymnal!
I pointed out to our congregation that somewhere, some distant congregation was the first to sing O Come, All Ye Faithful. Was it a disappointment for them that the processional hymn they were used to had been replaced?
We read that Mozart’s music was generally accepted with alacrity by his contemporary audiences, but Beethoven made his audiences work hard to understand the twists and turns he was adding to the language of music. Early twentieth-century composers like Alban Berg and Igor Stravinsky caused furors with their music—a riot broke out during the premier performance of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris. One account said the trouble started at the opening of the piece because audience members started disagreeing loudly about the unorthodox use of the bassoon.
What is the purpose of art? And when is art at its best? Is art (music, sculpture, painting, theater, literature) supposed to please us with beautiful sights and sounds? It’s a joy to walk through the Impressionist galleries in a great museum, savoring paintings of water lilies, gardens, dancers, and poplar trees. It’s a joy to hear a performance of Mozart symphonies and piano concertos. There’s no struggle, no challenges, no dissonance to the eye or ear, just beautiful images and sounds washing over you.
Or is art best and most meaningful when the artist takes us somewhere we haven’t been before? Picasso insisted that we look at a subject from many directions at once. We know it as cubism, and scholarship over the years has taught us what Picasso was up to when he apparently distorted images. But I’m sure that many people have been troubled by his innovative images.
The great thing is that we don’t have to choose. We can enjoy the beauty of an old Dutch landscape painting—snazzy bits of sunshine poking through gnarly leafy trees, nymphs bathing in springs, swans, clouds, a hint of a breeze. Or we can be moved and troubled by a raspy grumpy contemporary image that we don’t understand and fail to appreciate. My wife Wendy and I once saw an exhibition of German portraiture from the 1920s, and another of the work of Louis Comfort Tiffany in the same afternoon at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was quite a jolt to move from the angular, dark, and spooky images of wealthy Jewish society in pre-Nazi Germany to the sumptuous and gleeful work of Tiffany with dazzling daffodils shown in stained glass.
We can hear the classy rhythms and rhymes of Cole Porter, or we can absorb the edgy, sometimes scary images of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Weill’s Mahagonny and Porter’s Let’s do it were written one year apart.

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Let’s go back to the French woman with her hands over her ears. Why do people go to church? Is it to find comfort in the familiar litanies and rituals or is to be challenged to understand the most difficult issues of our humanity? Much of organized worship is predictable. Because of the nature of my work, I think I visit as many churches as anyone. It’s interesting to compare the Sunday bulletin from Congregational churches in Los Angeles and New York, or Brunswick, Maine and Norman, Oklahoma. For the most part, they could be interchangeable. Look at Christmas Eve bulletins from around the country and you find the same hymns in the same slots. For many people the quiet surroundings and the familiar prayers and stories provide a shelter from the tumult we face in day-to-day life. Too bad it has to be disrupted by some renegade organist sitting in a little booth forty feet up in the air.
But isn’t the church at its best when the preaching, the music, and education programs respond to the most difficult theological, social, even political issues of the day—when parishioners are challenged, when they leave the church troubled and questioning?
Just like the art museum or the concert hall, it’s both. The church comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comforted. I grew up in the Episcopal Church. My father is a priest and a music lover, and my musical life started with piano lessons and singing in the choir. As a kid I loved the pageantry of processions and sacraments. It was a beautiful brick-gothic church building with rich dark-stained oak carvings and decoration. There’s a Fisk organ in the rear gallery that was built when I was in high school (troubling to think that the organ is thirty-five years old now!). When I visit that building today I’m greeted by the familiar surroundings—it even still smells the same. But it was during the turmoil of the 1960s that that parish really grew. Dad came out against the war in Vietnam and led church members in civil rights protests. Of course some members were furious, withheld pledges, even left the parish, but that period of struggle was a catalyst for the parish’s growth.
If at least part of the role of the church is to challenge us to face difficult issues, then so should its musicians be encouraged to express their spirituality and emotions in the context of worship. We all love the old chestnuts. Church wouldn’t be church without rugged crosses, dewy roses, housed sparrows, and still small voices. But while we shouldn’t go out of our way to annoy the parishioners with bombastic music, we can lead them to higher places by challenging them with less comforting masterworks, especially if we make an effort to help them understand the music. A few words in the bulletin or newsletter can go a long way.
I don’t suppose that Dupré wrote notes in the newsletter explaining the music for next Sunday. Perhaps Madame would have reacted differently if she knew what was going on. I wonder if she had any idea that her parish organist was considered first a prodigy and then a genius by the wide world of organists. Did she realize that the music she was enduring was revolutionary? Did she know that there were international guests in the organ loft every Sunday, there to experience the work of the master? Could she pick out the plainsong melodies from the blazing mass of organ sound? Did she recognize the chorale melody in the heart of the improvisation? Did she understand the significance of the modal harmony? I don’t think so.

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As I write, André Isoir just burst into the noble opening of Widor’s Sixth Symphony. (G minor is a wonderful key!) This may not be sacred music, but it is certainly spiritual, and I suppose it was first played at St. Sulpice in Paris where Widor was organist for so long. Those poor women kneeling in prayer at the close of the Mass—their beads must have gone flying as Widor plumbed the depth of that great organ.
(A scene in a novel by Patrick O’Brian has the crew of a British naval warship being called to battle stations by the ship’s drummer who “woke the thunder in his drum.” I love that phrase, and it always comes to mind when a heroic organ starts to play.)
Marcel Dupré became organist at St. Sulpice upon Widor’s retirement in 1934 and remained at that post until his death in 1971. Olivier Messiaen (who was a student of Dupré at the Paris Conservatoire) was appointed organist at La Trinité in 1931. He “kept the bench” until his death in 1992. That’s a total of ninety-eight years. Allowing for vacations and concert tours, let’s call it forty-eight hundred Sundays. Think of those two innovative, dynamic, and highly spiritual musicians holding forth on opposite sides of the Seine for all those years. What a body of thunder created through the inspiration of faith. The world of the organ, in fact the world of music was changed forever by their genius and diligence. I’m sorry it was so hard on Madame, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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