XV Festival Internazionale Storici Organi della Valsesia

July 26–September 27, 2003

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of THE DIAPASON.

It was my great pleasure to play a recital on a historic organ during the sixth international historic organs festival in the Biella area in northwestern Italy. Biella is a lovely town of 50,000, located about ninety minutes’ drive north of Milan and Turin, midway between them. The district’s prosperity comes from production of wool and rice; driving through the area, one spots frequent signs announcing woolen clothing for sale, and rice—including Carnaroli, an excellent rice for making the creamy dish risotto, Italian comfort food at its best.

A younger sister of the “Festival Internazionale Storici Organi della Valsesia” (detailed by Sarah Mahler Hughes in The Diapason, February, 2003, pp. 18–19), the Biella festival is also smaller in scope. Last year’s festival comprised nine recitals in as many Piedmontese towns, with organists hailing from the Czech Republic, Finland, France, Germany, Italy, Slovenia, Spain, and the United States. Both festivals were established by Mario Duella, an amazingly energetic organist and impresario who deserves tremendous credit for establishing a concert series that would do any big city proud, let alone a smaller, less urban area. Through the cultural association he founded for the historic organs of Piedmont, he has organized the restoration and maintenance of numerous organs of the Biella and Valsesia regions, and planned and promoted the festivals so that these musical treasures continue to be heard. (There have also been recordings released of the Valsesia organs, including some festival performances.) The festivals receive support from their respective provinces through local government and churches, as well as local businesses. These provinces have a great musical heritage, and their care and nurturing of it does them proud. (The web site address of the Associazione Culturale Storici Organi del Piemonte is http://utenti.lycos.it/storiciorgani/.)

The Biella festival was established to promote the heritage of historic organs and was designed along the lines of the Valsesia festival. According to Mario Duella, its main focus is to publicize and “make known organs which otherwise would not be appreciated: one only has to remember how little these instruments are used in Catholic liturgy, and think of those organists who are unpaid—or paid little.” Duella notes that in Italy the church organist is a very secondary figure and not always appreciated. (And certainly, the same trend is advancing on this side of the Atlantic.) The ten organs in this year’s Biella festival range in age from 1821 to 1929. All but two were built in the nineteenth century, and all but four are single-manual instruments with pulldown pedal (usually 17 pedals). Several were restored by the Krengli firm of Novara; other restorations were carried out by Mascioni, Giuseppe Marzi, Pietro Contenti, Brondino-Vegezzi Bossi, and Italo Marzi & Figli. The oldest restoration was in Rosazza, restored by Marzi in 1963, the most recent in Vigliano, restored by Brondino in 2002.

The concert schedule of the 2003 festival is listed below:

July 26, Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta, Salussola

Sergio de Pieri (Australia), with Raffaella Benori (Italy), soprano; instrument: Amedeo e Giovanni Ramasco, 1858, op. 64, I/26, pulldown pedal, restored by Mascioni, 1979

July 31, Chiesa di San Lorenzo, Sostegno

Juan Paradell-Solé (Spain); instrument: Amedeo e Giovanni Ramasco, 1846, op. 37, I/25, pulldown pedal

August 14, Chiesa dei Santissimi Pietro e Giorgio, Rosazza

Matti Hannula (Finland), and Mario Duella (Italy); instrument: Guglielmo Bianchi, 1880, op. 65, I/24

August 16, Chiesa di San Sebastiano, Trivero/Bulliana

Michel Colin (France); instrument: Camillo Guglielmo Bianchi, 1876, op. 52, I/19 September 5, Chiesa di Santa Maria della Pace, Pralungo

Joyce Robinson (U.S.A.); instrument: Luigi Berutti, 1929, restored by Krengli, 1996, II/21

September 6, Chiesa di San Giorgio, Coggiola

Jaroslav Tuma (Czech Republic); instrument: Giuseppe Lingua, 1893, restored by Pietro Contenti, 1990, II/29

September 16, Chiesa di San Giuseppe Operaio, Vigliano

Renata Bauer (Slovenia); instrument: Fratelli Aletti, 1929, restored by Brondino-Vegezzi Bossi, 2002, III/22

September 21, Chiesa di San Michele Arcangelo, Cavaglià

Elmar Jahn (Germany); instrument: Fratelli Serassi, 1821, op. 381, restored by Italo Marzi & Figli, 1999, II/43

September 27, Chiesa dell’Immacolata Concezione, Portula

Sergio Militello (Italy); instruments: Camillo Guglielmo Bianchi, 1885, op. 79, restored by Krengli, 1983, I/11; Giacomo Vegezzi Bossi, 1867, restored by Krengli, 1985, I/27

The organ on which I played was in the church of Santa Maria della Pace in Pralungo, a small suburb of Biella. A two-manual Luigi Berutti instrument from 1929, it had been restored by the Krengli firm in 1996.

Grand’organo

Principale 16’

Principale 8’

Dolce 8’

Ottava 4’

Decimaquinta

Ripieno

Flauto 8’

Unda maris 8’

Tromba 8’

Organo espressivo

Violoncello 8’

Gamba 8’

Violini 8’

Celeste 8’

Bordone 8’

Flauto 4’

Clarino 8’

Oboe 8’

Corale 8’

Pedale

Subbasso 16’

Cello 8’

Ottava 4’

My personal experience playing in the 2003 festival was delightful. My husband and I flew from Chicago’s O’Hare Airport to Rome, where we spent some days with Roman friends; we then took a train to Milan, rented a car, and drove from Milan to Biella, where we had lunch in a small local trattoria, and asked about a public phone so that we could contact our host, Mario Duella. The waiter replied that the phone line was not working. So I worked up a bit of courage to ask the businessmen at the next table if they would accept a few Euros and place a call for me on a cell phone. About six (beautifully tailored) arms reached toward me, offering their cell phones! Mario made arrangements for a practice session in the afternoon. The custodian and parish priest met us and briefly showed us around. The church, built in the early sixteenth century, is not large but makes up for it with beautiful furnishings, statues, and paintings.

The two-manual Berutti organ had a lovely sound and was enhanced by the church’s lively acoustic. The principals, typical of Italian organs, were not strong, but the strings had a definite presence. The flutes and the oboe were also lovely, the tromba fairly powerful. The pneumatic transmission meant the response wasn’t the fastest, so I had to plan my strategy for the repeated notes of Lefébure-Wély’s Bolero de Concert.

Following practice, we were invited to the home of the organist, Prof. Pierangelo Ramella, who lived just a few doors away. His charming wife offered us an aperitivo and we had an enjoyable, if somewhat unbalanced, conversation (my husband does not speak Italian, and our hosts’ young grandson was very shy). The organist, a retired schoolteacher, was also quite the opera fan. He showed us his collection of opera scores (full scores!). Afterwards, he led the way to our B&B, a few small towns away. We thanked him for his kindness and said we’d see him domain.

Our B&B was a huge old building, with our room on the second floor. We chatted with the daughter of the owner (Signora Clara Castelli, who’s on the board of the Fondazione that presents the organ festival) and met one of her dogs. The view from our room was refreshing and inspiring, overlooking a valley and with the Alps in the distance. But the area was hard hit by the summer’s drought. Normally there is plenty of water from mountain run-off, but the great and enduring heat plus lack of rain took their toll. So no running water was available between 9 pm–7 am, and 2 pm–6 pm. Another strategy to plan!

Upon returning to the church the next morning for more practice, we found Don Ezio Zanotti, the charming and simpatico parish priest, there to greet us. In the afternoon, technicians from the Krengli firm came from Novara to tune the reeds (which didn’t sound bad, I thought)—and, I hope, fix the cipher (which did—it was in the pedal, on the principal!). While they worked, I had a lovely conversation with the custodian and Don Ezio while my husband went off in search of gelato.

Later we returned to our B&B to rest. Mario Duella and his lovely wife Franca picked us up at 8 pm and drove us to the church. I set things up in the balcony and reviewed with Mario the pieces for which he would turn pages. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the sacristy, waiting to be introduced. After Mario’s introduction, I walked down the aisle and ascended to the balcony.

My program was eclectic, beginning with Herbert Sumsion’s Ceremonial March, and ending with Dubois’s Toccata in G. In between was an international mélange of works, from the well-known (Bach’s Jig Fugue) to the lesser-known (Licinio Refice’s Berceuse) to the unknown (a transcription of the sinfonia to Pasquale Anfossi’s oratorio La Betulia liberata). I put my Italian to good use and gave a short introduction to each piece.

The audience was most gracious and following the program there were a few short speeches and a gift of local sweets from an excellent pasticceria. And yet another surprise—Mario mentioned that the previous day was our 15th wedding anniversary, so my husband was called to the front, and we were presented with an enormous bouquet of roses and baby’s breath (apparently Don Ezio was behind this!). We were just flabbergasted. Impromptu speeches are not my strong point, let alone in another language, so I hardly knew what to say, but tried to express our deep gratitude.

We then mingled with the departing audience members—one gentleman came up to me, thanked me profusely, and kissed my hand! I greeted as many people as possible, then Mario and Franca whisked us away to a local restaurant for a lovely meal (and some wine!). Mario and Franca drove us home to our B&B, and then it was off to bed, to sleep but very lightly while my brain remained in high gear.

Train ticket to Milan: $70. New organ shoes: $45. Chance to play in this festival: Priceless.

For information on the 2004 Festival, contact: [email protected].

Tradition and Development

A concert by Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and Gustav Leonhardt at the Basilica of San Petronio in Bologna, held on October 27, 2000, provided the inspiration for  writing an article on the historical Italian organ, its tradition and development. My goal is to give a panoramic view of the subject, and anyone knows that when looking at a panoramic view much of the detail is lost. Still, such an attempt is worth carrying out because some general guidelines can in any case be drawn. To do so, it is necessary to go back a number of centuries and try to understand the original role of the organ in the musical world of Italian churches.

The Basilica of San Petronio is no ordinary place from the standpoint of organbuilding history. It enjoys the presence of two unique instruments: the oldest Italian organ in existence, built by Lorenzo da Prato between 1471 and 1475, roughly 20 years prior to the discovery of America by Columbus,1 and a later organ, built by Baldassarre Malamini in 1596. The instruments are located face to face in the area traditionally reserved for the choristers, behind the high altar.

The program notes for the Tagliavini-Leonhardt concert, written by Marc Vanscheevwijck, well explain the use for which organs of medieval and renaissance times were intended:

Alternatim performance practice, i.e., the performance of liturgical pieces alternating contrasting musical forces in the various versets of the sacred texts, originates in the old antiphonal singing of psalms of the first centuries A.D. In responsorial music a soloist or a small group of singers alternated with the larger choir. Sometimes they alternated plainchant with polyphonic settings of the text. Probably as early as the organ began to be used in church, the organist already improvised "versets," alternating with the choir singing the counter versets in Gregorian chant. Obviously, the schola never repeated the texts of the versets played by the organist, who improvised (and later composed) on the relative Gregorian melodies. The earliest source of such a practice is the Faenza Codex, compiled c.1420. During the following century this alternatim practice spread throughout Italy. Many alternatim settings, particularly of the mass proper, have been preserved, some of the most famous of which were composed by Girolamo Cavazzoni, Claudio Merulo, Andrea Gabrieli, and (in the 17th century) the Fiori Musicali of Girolamo Frescobaldi.2

Two aspects immediately come to mind:

1. The organ location, which for effective responsorial use had to be near the choir and not necessarily in a favorable position for the congregation,

2. A tonal structure suitable for dialogue with a small group of singers.

There was no need for a sound big enough to accompany the choir, simply because the organ was intended as a soloist. And accompanying the congregation was certainly not in the agenda, since people did not sing during liturgy in Italian Catholic churches until very recently.3

What effect did all of this have on the sound? Since power was not the issue, early Italian organbuilders developed their talents in other areas, and tonal quality became the priority. They created relatively small instruments, mostly with only one manual, with gentle, beautifully voiced stops. Wind pressures were in most cases quite low, down to 42-45 mm. at the water column, and the voicing techniques as well as the tonal design in general reflected such an approach.

Listening to music by Antegnati (also a famous Italian organbuilder), Segni, Veggio, Gabrieli and others performed on the beautiful organs of San Petronio gave me and the entire audience (a few hundred people all gathered in the large space behind the high altar, to be able to best hear the organs) a good perspective of the musical experience which was originally expected from such instruments.

It is my belief that the original DNA of ancient Italian pipe organs, as defined by their original use in the liturgy, played a decisive role in the subsequent evolution of the instruments. This was due to a strong sense of tradition among the vast majority of builders and to their reluctance to introduce changes to a practice which was considered successful. Examples to the contrary do exist, but any effort of generalizing, or extracting general rules from a complex reality, always ends up sacrificing notable exceptions.

In post-Renaissance times, organ use became widespread. All Italian churches had at least one organ and often one or two Positivo4  instruments in addition to the main organ. And a very significant change took place: in addition to being used as a solo instrument for improvisations and for the performance of written music, the organ also became an accompanimental instrument for the choir. Its location within the building also changed in most cases, taking into greater consideration the congregation as the beneficiary of musical performances: the preferred location for new instruments became a balcony facing the nave, which is still considered by many to be the ideal location for the best possible diffusion of sound within a building. Naturally, broader tonal resources had to be made available in order to accommodate this new function, but this did not cause a significant change in the original voicing practices. In other words, more stops were introduced and a Pedal division was added (normally consisting of one or two stops), but the basic tonal structure remained the same and no major changes took place in the sound: still low pressures and gentle voicing. After all, organs still did not need to be big or powerful, because they were not intended to support an entire congregation, just a choir.5

A further, major evolution took place as a result of the greater demands by the repertoire of the Romantic period. A great number of new stops were introduced: reeds of various types, more flutes, strings, even percussion: drums, cymbals, bells and the like. The organs built by the Serassi family of Bergamo towards the end of the eighteenth century and during the following century are a good example of the romantic Italian organ. The occupation of Bergamo by the troops of Napoleon (1796-1813) and subsequently by the Austrians (1814-1859) influenced organbuilding practices by introducing new musical models and, as a consequence, by contributing to the development of new devices and new sounds that would improve the performance of the music inspired by the teaching of Simon Mayr (1763-1845), by his pupil Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848) and by Gioacchino Rossini.6 The famous composer Felice Moretti (also known as Father Davide da Bergamo), a Franciscan monk and a family friend of the Serassi, composed music that was deeply influenced by opera. Also, Giuseppe II Serassi, the most innovative member of the family, introduced new devices aimed at facilitating the dynamic control of sound: the third hand, or mechanical super coupler, the fourth hand, or sub coupler, the expression shades, pedals for pre-set combinations of stops, an easier system for the coupling of the manuals (by means of a pedal and no longer by the sliding of the upper manual into position), settable combinations of stops, and the Tiratutti or Tutti for the Ripieno ranks.7

In spite of all of this, the ancient core of the instrument and the basic tonal concept behind it remained virtually unchanged for a good part of the nineteenth century. Low wind pressures were still the rule, as well as unforced voicing, fairly open pipe toes, and few nicks at the languids. As a consequence,   there was a broad harmonic development in the sound, allowing a very effective use of each stop in combination with others and forming an ensemble of rare cohesion and beauty. Pressures of sometimes less than 50 mm. at the water column naturally presented a real challenge, particularly for the voicing of reed stops, but this had the effect of encouraging builders to find original design and voicing methods to overcome the difficulties.8

At this point, it is necessary to define the tonal core of the organ which I have indicated as an element of continuity in Italian organbuilding throughout the centuries. Its main component is the Ripieno. The term does not translate to Mixture, but rather it defines a series of individual Principal scaled ranks of pipes at various pitches, creating a system of sounds at harmonic intervals, normally beginning with 8' pitch as the foundation of the manual.

The composition of a typical Ripieno with its traditional nomenclature follows:

Principale (I) 8'

Ottava (VIII) 4'

Decimaquinta (XV) 2'

Decimanona (XIX) 11/3'

Vigesima seconda (XXII) 1'

Vigesima sesta (XXVI) 2/3'

Vigesima nona (XXIX) 1/2'

Trigesima terza (XXXIII) 1/3'

Trigesima sesta (XXXVI) 1/4'

And occasionally:

Quadragesima (XL) 1/6'

Quadragesima Terza (XLIII) 1/8'

The highest pitch in the entire Ripieno is in most cases the note C at 1/8'. Beyond this limit a ritornello or break begins with pipes double the length, or one full octave lower in pitch.9

Table 1 is intended to give a clear and comprehensive idea of the tonal composition of the Ripieno. The method I am utilizing is unconventional and it consists of identifying each pipe by a number corresponding to its place in an ideal succession of notes starting with number 1 as low C of the 8' Principal. Low C at 4' will consequently be numbered as 13, low C at 2' will be numbered as 25 and so on. The highest pitch pipe in the Ripieno will be number 73, corresponding to the pitch limit of 1/8'. Once a rank reaches note number 73 it will break back and start a ritornello with note C#62 (or one full octave lower). To simplify matters, I am showing the first octave as complete (12 notes). The most common arrangement in Italian historical organs calls for a short first octave (8 notes, with C#, D#, F# and G# missing). Notes are identified by octave number, according to the Italian system, by which C1 corresponds to note C of the first octave, F3 to note F of the third octave, and so on. The chosen compass for our example is of 49 keys, C1 to C5. This system, by numbers rather than by footage, is intended to provide a more immediate idea of the repetition of equal size pipes throughout the compass for the entire Ripieno. Equal number means equal size pipe.

The conventional method is shown in Table 2. The Ripieno here is comparable, in pure terms of number of pipes, to a Principal chorus with 8', 4' and 2' stops plus a six-rank mixture. But by looking at Table 2 one can immediately appreciate the vast difference from such an arrangement. At note C#2 the first doubling or double pitch appears: pipes from the 1/2' rank (XXIX) and 1/4' rank (XXXVI) become of identical size. Consequently, between notes C#2 and F2 the tonal effect is not that of a six-rank mixture but rather of a five-rank mixture with one of the ranks doubled. This aspect becomes more and more prominent as we move up the keyboard, to the point that at note C#4 (key number 38) with all ranks from Decimaquinta (2') up drawn, only two pitches can be heard: 2', repeated 4 times, and 11/3', repeated three times. As one can easily appreciate, such tonal structure cannot be compared with that of a Mixture, or Fourniture or any other multiple-rank stop designed as a single entity. The Ripieno is simply different. It is conceived as a sum of individual ranks at different pitches, each separately usable in combinations with any other rank and all usable at once as a pleno.10

Obviously, this feature provides a great deal of flexibility in the tonal palette. From an organbuilder"s practical standpoint, it has two effects:

1. It forces the voicer to be extremely scrupulous as to the tonal balance, regulation and speech adjustment of each pipe even in the highest pitched ranks, since each can be separately used;

2. It makes tuning more difficult, due to the drawing effect on the equal pitched pipes when they play together. Only a tuner who knows how to deal with such a problem can obtain a stable tuning of the Ripieno.11

Tuning with double pitches was nothing new to ancient builders. In fact, pre-Renaissance and Renaissance organs, in Italy as well as in other European countries, often had double or even triple notes of equal length in the treble of the Principal, the Octave and sometimes the Fifteenth, to enhance the singing qualities of the instrument in the treble. This practice strangely survived, in some areas of Italy, all the way to the beginning of the 19th century. This proves that the difficulties connected with the tuning of multiple equal-pitched pipes never bothered Italian organbuilders too much.12

Other traditional stops forming the original core of the historical Italian organ include the following:

Flauto in Ottava (4'), normally tapered or cylindrical, sometimes stopped

Flauto in Decimaquinta (2') in the earlier instruments

Flauto in Duodecima (22/3')

The Terzino, or Tierce flute (13/5') was later added and, in the nineteenth century, the Flauto Traverso or Fluta (8', normally in the treble only).

Early strings appeared in the eighteenth century, at 4' in the bass and occasionally over the entire compass, but such stops were vastly different from what we think of as a string today. They had no ears, no beards, no nicks at the languids. These characteristics, combined with a very narrow scale, contributed to produce a sound with a very prominent transient at the attach and a cutting sustained tone, strongly imitative of early string instruments.

The Voce Umana or Fiffaro, a Principal-scaled stop at 8' pitch (treble only) was also used in the Renaissance and became increasingly more common in the Baroque and later periods. Its pipes were normally tuned sharp against the 8' Principal, except in the Venetian tradition and among a few builders in the south of Italy, where flat tuning was preferred.

The above description, as I have said earlier, represents a simplification of a much more complicated subject, and many examples exist that do not follow the rule.13 Also, all of those who are familiar with ancient Italian organs will agree that the tonal experience that comes from a Callido or a Nacchini organ is vastly different from that of an Agati or a Catarinozzi. They were expressions of very different artistic environments and the builders were very faithful to their own local traditions.

What happened in nineteenth-century Italian organbuilding is worth investigating a bit more closely. Early signs of rejection of the Italian romantic organ appeared. In 1824 the Cardinal Vicar of Rome promulgated an edict stating: "Organists may not play on the organ music written for theater, or with profane character, but only music that can encourage meditation and devotion . . . "14 Still, many of the major builders in the north, as well as many in other parts of the country, continued in their tradition of building instruments without changing their style.15 But at some point, foreign influence became a strong factor16 and the "new inventions," the Barker lever first and then pneumatic and electric action, came into the picture.17 Pneumatic action in particular and the new sounds, such as the "modern strings" and harmonic stops demanded higher wind pressures, and the organ sound became stronger and aggressive. But, as we all know, pneumatic action represented only a relatively short transition period in organbuilding history, and a further evolution of the instrument was soon marked in the following century by a perfected electric action and by the rediscovery, in the mid 1960s, of tracker action. This movement was immediately promoted by some of the major Italian builders18 and it became stronger and stronger over the years. The neoclassical instrument was created, based on mechanical action and on the re-discovery of the traditional sounds and voicing techniques. But, as it is often the case, the intent was not that of copying the past but rather of preserving the best of tradition within a new context which was calling for a new use of the organ: the support of congregational singing.

One may get the impression that it is impossible to extract a general trend from this entire process of evolution. Still, I believe that one common denominator can be found: the unforced, pleasing singing quality that has survived unchanged for over five centuries, and which effectively represents, in musical form, the character of the Italian language.

Notes

                  1.              The instrument consists of one manual and short pedalboard, as follows. Manual: F1-A4 without F#1, G#1; divided keys G#1/Ab1, G#2/Ab2, G#3/Ab3; Pedal: F1-D2 directly connected to the corresponding manual keys. The stoplist follows:

Principale contrabasso (24', façade) - doubled from C#3

Principale (12', rear façade - doubled from C#3, triple from Bb3)

Flauto in VIII

Flauto in XII

Ottava (doubled from Bb3)

XII

XV

XIX

XXII

XXVI-XXIX

Spring windchest, A = 470 Hz, meantone temperament; restoration by Tamburini, 1974-1982. The above information is the courtesy of Liuwe Tamminga, recitalist and organist at the Basilica of San Petronio.

                  2.              Concerning earlier use of the organ in western world churches, see Peter Williams (Duke University, Durham, NC) in his essay "The origin of the Christian organ with some particular reference to Italy," Acts of the International Symposium on "I Serassi--L"arte organaria fra sette e ottocento," Ed. Carrara, Bergamo, 1999, p. 12. Referring to the early Middle Ages, he writes: "I don"t know any evidence that organs were brought into church in order to accompany singing--whether it was the celebrant singing at mass, the lay people responding with their own acclamations, or the monks chanting their daily office in private or in public. All that one can be certain about is that organs were there to provide sound, and whatever later music historians may have assumed, it is seldom if ever clear what kind of sound they made, or for what purpose and at what point they made it. Only from the thirteenth century onwards the picture is clear . . ."

                  3.              While the practice of congregational singing at celebrations in Italian churches may have had its first examples at the end of the nineteenth century, it was during the Second Vatican Council that this practice was actually encouraged.

                  4.              A Positivo can be described as a smaller size "cabinet" organ, self-contained, whose casework is normally divided in two sections: the lower case, containing the bellows (normally two multi-fold hinged bellows activated by levers), and the upper case, which sits on top and which holds the keyboard, the windchest and pipes. It was almost invariably built without independent pedal stops,  and its pedalboard, when present, consisted normally of one short octave, whose keys were connected to the corresponding keys of the first octave at the manual by means of strings or wires. Although easily movable (sometimes large handles on the sides of the two sections of the case indicate this possibility), it is different from a Portativo, an even smaller instrument whose primary function was that of providing music during outdoor processions.

                  5.              Larger instruments are not unknown to historical Italian organbuilding. I will mention two examples of rare complexity:

a.) The instrument at the church of San Nicolo L"Arena in Catania, by Donato del Piano (1698-1785), with a total of five keyboards, divided between three consoles attached to the case (1 manual - 3 manuals - 1 manual) with the larger console in the center and one pedalboard for the center console, plus a separate small automatic pipe instrument activated by a rotating drum. This enormous, beautiful instrument, now in a poor state of disrepair (among other things, the pipes have all been removed and stored), includes pipework of extremely unusual shape.

b.) The great organ at the Church of the Cavalieri di S. Stefano in Pisa, built between 1733 and 1738 by Azzolino Bernardino della Ciaia (1671-1755) with the help of other organbuilders from different parts of Italy, with four manuals plus a fifth manual activating a harpsichord. This organ was later converted into a pneumatic instrument and subsequently electrified. Only a portion of the original pipework survives.

                  6.              See Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini, "Le risorse dell"organo Serassiano e il loro sfruttamento nella prassi organistica dell"epoca," in Acts of the International Symposium on "I Serassi--L"arte organaria fra sette e ottocento", Ed. Carrara, Bergamo, 1999, pp. 80-84.

                  7.              See Giosue Berbenni, Acts of the International Symposium on "I Serassi--L"arte organaria fra sette e ottocento," Ed. Carrara, Bergamo, 1999, pp. 22-24.

                  8.              The lower the wind pressure, the thinner the tongues must be to obtain promptness of speech. But thin tongues also produce undesirable side effects, notably:  a) A thinner timbre in general, with greater development of overtones and less fundamental; b) Uncontrollable sound at the bass register, where any reed naturally tends to become louder; c) Very weak trebles. To overcome these problems, a series of interesting methods were developed. I will mention a few:

a.) Wide and deep shallots to increase the volume of air excited by the tongue, with the effect of increasing the prominence of the fundamental in the tone;

b.) Double or even triple tongues at the low register, to control volume, timbre and stability;

c.) Variable tongue thickness at the treble, with the filing of the tip to obtain promptness while retaining a good volume of sound.

For a more complete description of voicing methods on low pressure reeds, with specific reference to the reeds of Serassi organs, see Francesco Ruffatti in "I registri ad ancia negli organi Serassi," Acts of the International Symposium on "I Serassi--L"arte organaria fra sette e ottocento," Ed. Carrara, Bergamo, 1999 pp. 144-150.

                  9.              When the lowest pitched stop on the manual is the Principal 16' the nomenclature remains the same, although all stops start one octave lower in pitch. The stoplist becomes:

Principale (16')

Ottava (8')

Decimaquinta (4')

Decimanona (22/3')

and so on. In essence, the organ is still seen as based on the 8' Principal, with the extension of a counter octave towards the bass (see my article on Gaetano Callido, December, 1999 issue of The Diapason, p. 17, Note 8).

                  10.           Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini in his article "Il ripieno," L"organo, Year 1, No. 2, July-December, 1960, Ed. Patron, Bologna, points out the difference between the Italian Ripieno and the northern European mixtures as follows:

"a) The classical Italian ripieno is divided into its constitutive elements, corresponding to separate stops, while the foreign mixtures, starting from a certain pitch (from 4', from 22/3', from 2', from 11/3' etc.) are condensed into one stop;

b) Both in the ripieno and in the northern mixtures a gradual "compression" towards the treble takes place, a compression which is more limited in the German and northern European organ, greater in the Italian organ. In fact a ripieno will have a "compressed" extension in the treble, reduced from 8' to 2', while in the Mixtur-Scharf scheme the treble is extended between 8' and 1';

c) The "masking" of the jumps produced by the breaks is done differently in Italy from abroad; in Italy, by the division of breaks into two different points, one for the octave stops and one for the quint stops; abroad by the partial or complete substitution of the break in quint and fourth with the one in octave.

The northern European mixtures, through a particular interpretation of the break and without any fear of going beyond the pitch limits in the bass and the treble as imposed by the Italian ripieno, tend to make the tonal "density" more uniform, by reducing the difference between the tonal richness of the bass and the treble. Part of such uniformity is sacrificed by the Italian organbuilder in favor of tonal beauty. This is why the use of the Italian ripieno is mostly chordal and for toccatas, while the northern European organum plenum, especially the German, can also perform a polyphonic role."

In c) Tagliavini refers to alternation of quint and unison breaks within the same rank in all ranks of the mixture.

The pitch limit of northern European mixtures and related stops is often C at 1/16', close to the limit of human hearing, one full octave higher than the Ripieno and this factor alone determines a dramatic difference in the sound from the Ripieno.

                  11.           Drawing is an acoustical phenomena by which the sound of a pipe is drawn or pulled into tune by the sound of a second pipe which is playing an interval close to being pure or in tune. This effect is stronger between unison pipes; when tuning the second pipe to the first, its sound will slide into tune as soon as its frequency approaches that of the first pipe, but before it actually reaches the same value, thus determining an apparent tuning condition. Adding a third pipe and trying to tune it to the two previous sounds becomes impossible if the first two pipes are in a status of apparent unison, because each of the two sounds will react to the third pipe differently, according to their real frequency value. The difficulties increase exponentially from note C#4 up in the example shown, where two groups of 4 and 3 equal size pipes respectively play at once. The procedure to tune the Ripieno is consequently different and definitely more complicated than that of a regular mixture stop, as it must take into account the drawing of equal length pipes.

                  12.           I am here mentioning two organs, built in Tuscany by the Paoli family of Campi Bisenzio at the beginning of the 19th century, both restored by Fratelli Ruffatti in recent years:

a.) the organ in the Church of S. Francesco in Pontassieve, near Florence, built by Giacobbe Paoli, which includes doublings at the Principale starting with note Bb3, at the Ottava from note F3 and at the Decimaquinta also from note F3;

b.) the organ built by Michelangelo Paoli in the Basilica of S. Maria, Impruneta - Firenze, utilizing the pipes of a previous instrument by Bernardo d"Argenta, 1535, which has doublings at the Principale starting from note F#3, at the Ottava from note B3 and at the Decimaquinta from C4. Having re-built the windchest entirely, the builder could have easily eliminated the doublings had he not believed in the validity of such tonal approach.

                  13.           As an example, Sicilian organs in the 18th century were often built with multiple Ripieno ranks activated by a single stop control.

                  14.           See "La riforma dell"Organo Italiano" by Baggiani, Picchi, Tarrini, Ed. Pacini, Ospedaletto (Pisa), 1990, pp. 9-10.

                  15.           The largest instrument built by the Serassi family, the "Organum maximum" with three keyboards and over three thousand pipes, was built in the romantic style as late as in 1882. This instrument was restored by Fratelli Ruffatti between 1983 and 1985. It includes many of the effects which were rejected by liturgists, such as the drum, a bell and other percussion.

                  16.           Ferdinando Casamorata (1807-1881), musician and music scholar, introduced the work of Cavaillé-Coll to the Italian musical scene by making public the work of J. A. De La Fage "Orgue de l"Église Royale de Saint Dénis, construit par MM Cavaillé-Coll père et fils, Facteur d"orgues du Roi." Rapport. II edition, Paris, 1846. See "La riforma dell"Organo Italiano" by Baggiani, Picchi, Tarrini, Ed. Pacini, Ospedaletto (Pisa), 1990, p. 12. He gave explanations and favorable comments on some of the most remarkable characteristics of the instrument, notably the variety of wind pressures, the Barker lever, the "strength" of the upper registers, especially the reed stops, etc., and presenting them as valuable innovations worth imitating.

                  17.           An important role in this process was played by George William Trice (1848-1920), a British merchant who became an organbuilder and established a factory in Italy. He built the first electric action organ in 1888 for the Church of S. Andrea, Genoa. Other notable instruments followed, among which the three-manual instrument for the Church of the Immaculate Conception in Genoa, inaugurated in 1890 with concerts by Alexander Guilmant and Filippo Capocci.

18.               

Tamburini and Ruffatti were the first major Italian companies, in the early 1960s, to resume building mechanical action instruments.

Francesco Ruffatti has been a partner since 1968 of Fratelli Ruffatti, builders and restorers of pipe organs, in Padova, Italy. Besides being the tonal director of the firm, he is actively involved in the research on historical Italian organs and the supervision of the many historical restorations performed by the firm.

Francesco Cera was born in Bologna, Italy. He studied organ and harpsichord with Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and later with Gustav Leonhardt at the Amsterdam Conservatory. Regarded as one of Italy’s leading early music specialists, he has performed as a soloist in international festivals and on historic organs throughout Europe. Cera has recorded harpsichord and organ works by 17th-century Italian composers (Rossi, Merula, Storace and Valente) for the Tactus label, to critical acclaim. The French label Tempéraments issued the anthology “Rome Baroque,” with music by Frescobaldi and Pasquini. Francesco Cera has recorded three CDs of Scarlatti’s sonatas (from a 1742 manuscript), and taken part in the performance of all the sonatas at the Festival in Ghent (Belgium). The ARTS label has recently issued his recordings of Bach’s French Suites and four Harpsichord Concertos (with I Barocchisti, Diego Fasolis, conductor). From 1991 to 1994, Cera was a member of the ensemble Il Giardino Armonico. He directs the Ensemble Arte Musica, with whom he performs an Italian repertory spanning the period of Gesualdo’s madrigals to 18th-century cantatas. He has led masterclasses and workshops at the Royal Academy of Music London, Académie d’Orgue de Fribourg, Accademia di Musica Italiana per Organo, the University of Illinois, Cornell University, Arizona State University, and Oberlin College. Since 2001 he has lived in Rome, where he is Honorary Inspector of Early Organs for Rome and the Lazio region. His website: www.francescocera.it.

Born into a family of organ builders, Andrea Pinchi learned the rudiments of the art of organ building as a child from his paternal grandfather, Libero Rino. After receiving a scientific degree in 1987, he officially joined the family business, refining his knowledge under the direction of his father, Guido, and participating in the construction of important organs, working especially on pipe design and pipemaking. From 2001–2003 he was managing director of Stinkens Italia Srl, a company that has made thousands of pipes worldwide, and especially for U.S. organbuilders, over the years. In 2001, with his sister Barbara, he founded the historic organ restoration firm Ars Organi, which has carried out restorations of great interest, such as those of the 1509 organ of Mastro Paolo Pietropaolo in the Chiesa Museo di San Francesco in Trevi (Umbria), the 1615 Antonino La Valle instrument in Santa Maria Assunta in Sclafani (Sicily), the 1759 Conrad Werle organ in San Giuseppe in Leonessa (Lazio), and currently, the two-manual 1769 Aloysius Galligani organ in the Chiesa del Suffragio in Foligno. He has considerable experience in the field of organology, thanks to the teaching and guidance of Dr. Oscar Mischiati, with whom he worked closely from 1981 to 2004 in his family’s restoration business. Pinchi supervised the cataloging of the organs in the diocese of Foligno for the Umbria region; he has published numerous articles on organology. He has participated in organbuilding meetings both in Italy and abroad; he is president of L’Associazione “Aloysius Galligani,” which deals with historic organs of the Umbria region. He is owner, with his siblings Barbara and Claudio, of Fratelli Pinchi , a company founded in 1930, which has built over 440 organs in Italy and other countries; among the most significant are those of the Duomo in Arezzo, Kusatzu Concert Hall in Japan, Tempio Don Bosco in Asti, and Padre Pio Basilica in the Renzo Piano-designed San Giovanni Rotondo—a four-manual, 100-rank mechanical action instrument. He has supervised the temperament and tuning of many historic organs for recordings made by Archiv-Deutsche Grammophon, Camerata Tokio, Discantica, Opus 111, Quadrivium and Tactus. He does design work both for the family firm and for foreign organ builders.

After more than thirty years and hundreds of instruments restored with the highest technical qualities, the restoration of historical organs in Italy still holds surprises and offers us opportunities for growth and knowledge. In the last few years, our view of the antique Italian organ has become even larger and more diversified, not simply in the general structure of the instruments, but mostly in the tonal concept adopted throughout Italy over the centuries by organbuilders.
In the church of Santa Lucia, in Serra San Quirico, an old village in the mountains near Ancona (Marche region), it was possible to discover a particularly rare instrument. It is an organ dated 1676, signed by Giuseppe Testa, a famous organbuilder from Rome. Scholars knew about the existence of such an organ, but since no evident signature was ever found, its attribution was still uncertain, also considering that it was in quite a different style from that which defined the organs made in the Marche region.

Background of the instrument
During the restoration process, conducted by the Ars Organi company, located in Foligno and owned by Andrea and Barbara Pinchi, an inscription on the top of a languid was found: “Io Giuseppe Testa Romano feci in Roma Anno 1676” (“I, Giuseppe Testa, Roman, made this in Rome in the year 1676”). Giuseppe Testa is surely to be considered the most important organbuilder in Rome in the mid-17th century; he maintained the organs in the basilicas of San Pietro and Santa Maria Maggiore, and built numerous organs now placed in the churches of Rome. Unfortunately, many of the instruments he built that are still extant have been greatly modified throughout the centuries; thus, there is little historical evidence of his work. This is why the organ in San Quirico is of such extraordinary importance: an organ by Giuseppe Testa that was quite well preserved.
Most of the elements are still original: 95% of the pipes, the keyboard and pedalboard, casework, windchest, even the stool for the organist! Particularly beautiful are the three central pipes of the façade, modeled in a spiral, typical of the Roman school. In the 19th century, drawknobs and bellows had been changed and were rebuilt during the recent restoration job, modeled after originals from the Roman School of the period. The pipes had suffered some bad nicking, but many pipes were still intact in the mouths and helped furnish the model for the general voicing of the instrument. The reason this instrument is about 200 km from Rome is that the Marche region, in the 17th century, belonged to the Papal States, and the reason for the choice of Santa Lucia in San Quirico is probably due to the fact that this village is on the way to the Sanctuary of Loreto.

Stoplist and sonorities
The stoplist of the Testa organ presents different elements of originality. There are two 8′ Principals, of which the second is of sweeter tone; the first inner pipes were made in metal, and so they have been rebuilt this way. There are two flutes, one 22⁄3′ and the other 2′ (called by the builder Flautino), instead of the more common 4′ one. A 16′ Controbassi in spectacular chestnut wood, from C1 to C2, is coupled to the keyboard (the pedalboard is simply linked to the keys without an independent stop). The rarest stop is the 8′ Voce Umana, from F2. This well-known Italian stop, designed to beat in combination with the Principal, was widely used in northern Italy since around 1550, but it had never been used in Rome nor in other parts of central Italy until the beginning of the 18th century (apparently in Rome, Frescobaldi did not have the Voce Umana for his Toccate per l’elevazione). Therefore, this stop in the organ of San Quirico is the oldest that we know of among all the instruments built in Rome in the 17th century, and perhaps suggests that this stop was known by the organists of the Eternal City (we hope this hypothesis will be confirmed by other discoveries in the future). The effect of the drum is interesting and unusual; activated by the last pedal in the pedalboard, without its own pipes, it acts on the D1 and F1 notes of the keyboard.
The organ by Giuseppe Testa in Serra San Quirico offers us the possibility of finally hearing the tonal concept of this very important organbuilder from Rome, whose personality and craftsmanship are well evident not simply in the manufacture of the pipes and the mechanical parts, made with great knowledge, but also in the sound itself. At the time of the organ’s construction, Rome was an important center for organ music; it was dominated by Bernardo Pasquini, follower of the master Girolamo Frescobaldi. Many organists from Germany came to Rome to learn the latest organ style.
The measurements and the proportions of the pipes are such that their effect can be well appreciated by the ear. The sound is quite clear, bright and full of harmonics, even if not completely transparent but matched with a good fundamental and with generous speech. The main Principal is, along with the 22⁄3′ Flute, the stop with more fundamental, though it maintains a light character. The second Principal is sweeter than the main one but not dark. The 4′ Octave marks a tonal separation from the main Principal, because of its narrower scaling; that is why it is more penetrating and clear. The five ripieno ranks follow the same style of the 4′ Octave, and their sound is similar to strings, very open and brilliant.
The Voce Umana has a sound that matches better with the main Principal than with the second. The 22⁄3′ Flute is among the most surprising stops of the organ: its sound is strong, round and projects well in the church. It is only a hypothesis that the size of the other 2′ Flute recalls the Roman organs of 16′ that had 2′ and 11⁄3′ flutes. Its timbre is different from the 22⁄3′ one, less round, but does not lack sound. The 16′ Controbassi is also very clear and does not have a booming effect in the acoustic.
The restoration by Ars Organi has had the delicate responsibility to re-establish the original pitch with the best approximation possible, and to recreate the original sound of the instrument through an in-depth study and patient work of voicing, achieving surprising and very convincing results. This organ allows us to discover the sound conceived for the organ works of Bernardo Pasquini, and to execute with great taste all the literature of the 17th-century Italian masters as well as the German composers who took their inspiration while in Rome.
—Francesco Cera
Translation by Zoila Donati

The first time I saw the organ in the magnificent church of Santa Lucia, in 1987, I was aware that I was looking at an organ of rare beauty belonging to the Roman School, but I had no idea I was looking at the last masterpiece produced and signed by Giuseppe Maria Testa!
Obviously, whenever a restoration job is undertaken, one dreams of making an extraordinary discovery, like a hidden handwritten paper inside the windchest, or under the first key—or under the languid of the first front pipe! All of this, with other little discoveries, has allowed us to reconstruct the original look of the instrument.
The restoration work began in 1998 and ended in 2007. At the end of this job we produced an in-depth publication. I will later highlight the most important aspects regarding the tonal material.
Throughout three centuries the instrument has undergone numerous interventions, some of which have been particularly serious, such as converting the instrument to equal temperament, raising the pitch to 426 Hz at 11°C, tampering with the drawknobs, the modifications of the pedal windchest and the substitution of the original bellows. However, the original pipes were all present, even if they were seriously altered by the falling of the rackboard and by interventions made with little attention. The tops of the front pipes and of the internal ones had been cut and scrolled. Some feet of the façade pipes had dents that could easily be seen, and some toeholes had been altered and closed. A substantial number of factory-made pipes had been used to fill in or replace a few original pipes, which were considered impossible to save.
From a tonal standpoint, everything seemed to coincide with the original model, although a lot of the pipes in the ranks had been mixed, and not all of them played where they were supposed to. Even the pipes of the 2′ Flautino had been used in the 22⁄3′ Flauto in XII, and in their place in the 19th century someone had put a 4′ Ottavino. The first four pipes of the Principale Primo (front), originally made in metal, had been replaced in the 1800s with pipes made of fir. The 16′ Controbassi stop in chestnut, originally stopped, had been opened and doubled in its length with fir.
The survey has highlighted all the elements of the primary nucleus, then they have been rearranged according to the original numbers. By doing this, all the pipes that had been moved started to play, as they should have, consistently with the right balance between diameters and lengths. All operations providing the correct rearrangement have also restored uniformity of the thickness of the pipe metal, especially in the principals: very thin in the Principale Primo and Voce Umana, and much more robust in the Principale Secondo. The thicknesses of the metal of the Flauto in XII are much more substantial and they grow proportionally towards the high notes.
The bevel of the languids varies greatly according to the stops. The lab analysis produced the following results: front pipes 97.9% tin; inner pipes 98.4% lead. Following the preliminary phase, the pipes have all been cleaned and restored to their original conditions. During the last intervention the instrument had been retuned to 426 Hz at 11°C, and the temperament modified to equal, which made it necessary to lengthen all the pipes.
Once we collected all the non-original pipes, we proceeded building 154 pipes out of 471 (33%) using the same models, alloy and measurements of the originals. The pitch has been restored at 415.7 Hz at 14°C, humidity at 52%, while keeping in mind the pipes of the 16′ Controbassi, which maintained traces of the plugs inside, and the original metal pipes, which preserved unaltered voicing and length of the bodies. The temperament is again meantone ¼ comma.
The characteristics of the nicking are rather common to all the stops and count on average seven nicks per languid. For the Principale I, Principale II, the Ottava and the Voce Umana, the nicking is done all the way to the pipes of ½′.
The greatly varied bevel of the languids of the different stops and the differentiated scaling speaks by itself to the knowledge of Giuseppe Testa, who knew how to design the instruments he made with incredible taste and attention. The principals are differentiated in diameter and metal thickness. The ripieno ranks present a complex and elaborate mix of diameters that are narrow for the high notes and more generous in the low notes.
The Flauto in XII was thought out and realized with very clear principles, with diameters that start out rather narrow to widen later towards mid-keyboard, doing the same thing with increasing pipe metal thickness. This is the physical rendering of a wooden recorder, with its dynamic characteristics. All operations have been supervised and directed by the Italian authorities appointed to supervise all restorations in the Marche region, in this case Professor Maria Claudia Caldari and Maestro Mauro Ferrante.
Also part of this restoration were Andrea and Barbara Pinchi, Ivan Dumitrak, Marco Dominici. Assistant for voicing: Francesco Cera. Historical-philological research: M° Mauro Ferrante, Ispettore Onorario della Soprintendenza delle Marche; Prof. Paolo Peretti, Organologo e Musicologo, Conservatorio di Bari.
—Andrea Pinchi

The Organ
Keyboard 45 notes, short octave, C1–C5
Total width 653 mm

Pedalboard 10 notes, short octave, C1–C2 plus drum pedal

Stoplist
8′ Principale I
8′ Principale II
4′ Ottava
2′ Quinta Decima
11⁄3′ Decima Nona
1′ Vigesima Seconda
2⁄3′ Vigesima Sesta
1⁄2′ Vigesima Nona
8′ Voce Umana
22⁄3′ Flauto in XII
2′ Flautino
16′ Controbassi, stopped

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

In the 1980s I was a graduate student in Rome, doing research on oratorios in the archive adjacent to the sanctuary of the Chiesa Nuova (Santa Maria in Vallicella). That church, established by St. Philip Neri, witnessed the flourishing of the oratorio in the 18th century; more oratorio performances were held there than at any other venue in Rome. Oratorios, performed weekly from November through Lent, were written by the leading opera composers of the day.
Twice weekly (the archive was only open from 5–7 pm on Tuesdays and Fridays; this explains why my research took a while), I entered the large sanctuary and walked toward the altar on my way to the archive. Though the church still revealed its Baroque splendor, there was no splendid—i.e., in playable condition—organ. So I took no note of the instrument; lack of maintenance on an organ was not an uncommon situation in Roman churches.
Fast forward to 2003, to the office of The Diapason, where I was now on the editorial staff. A new CD had arrived,1 featuring organist Francesco Cera playing the Guglielmi organ at Santa Maria in Vallicella, the instrument having been restored by Fratelli Ruffatti.2 I was impressed by the marvelous playing and the incisive sound of the instrument. Even the temperament was revelatory; the meantone tuning gave the dissonances extra pungency and made their resolutions all the more satisfying.
Francesco Cera, born in Bologna, now resident in Rome, studied organ and harpsichord with Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and Gustav Leonhardt. He has appeared as a soloist in international festivals and has played historic organs in various European countries. His recordings of the complete keyboard works of Michelangelo Rossi, Tarquinio Merula, Bernardo Storace, and Antonio Valente were praised by the international press. He is currently the conductor of the Ensemble Arte Musica, which specializes in Italian vocal repertoire, from the madrigals of Gesualdo to 18th-century cantatas.3 Cera has led masterclasses and seminars at such institutions as the Accademia di Musica Italiana per Organo, Academie d’Orgue de Fribourg, the Royal Academy of Music in London, the University of Illinois, the University of Evansville, and the Eastman School of Music.
I felt it was worth a try to see if I could meet Mr. Cera in person. An e-mail was graciously answered and led to further exchanges, and my husband and I were able to meet Cera on our next trip to Rome. He was most kind and agreed to show and play the organ for us. We met at the church one December day, along with the organist of Santa Maria in Vallicella. After making our way up the curving staircase to the shallow loft, Cera fired up the instrument. He began playing some works by Rossi, but had not played for very long when the competition arrived—another organ was being played, to lead a rehearsal of children singing. We weren’t going to win this one, so we ceased and desisted and headed for the coffee bar across the street.
Time passed. Cera’s CD was given a glowing review in The Diapason.4 In October 2006 he made a tour to the United States to present concerts and masterclasses, to demonstrate Italian organ music of the 17th century. His tour included a stop in Chicago, where he played on the Flentrop organ in Holy Name Cathedral. We were able to meet up with him once again, to discuss the Guglielmi organ and its restoration in further detail.

JR: Was the Guglielmi organ in Santa Maria in Vallicella installed when the church was first built?
FC: The organ that we hear today is the second built by Giovanni Guglielmi for the church, and for centuries it was paired with a second organ, also built by Guglielmi, for the newly built church, in about 1590. The church of Santa Maria in Vallicella (called the Chiesa Nuova) was constructed at the request of St. Filippo Neri, who in the nearby oratory founded the order of the Philippine fathers; thus it is a crucial place in the history of the Catholic Church. The organ we hear was built in 1612, according to archival research.

JR: Is the Guglielmi organ typical of other Roman instruments? How does its design reflect the style of Italian organ building of the 17th century?
FC: Yes, the Guglielmi organ is a traditional type of organ quite frequently found in large Roman churches at the end of the 16th century. I would say that this organ is clearly distinct from those built in northern Italy during the same period, for example those of Antegnati and his followers. It is typically Roman because it exhibits construction characteristics that are very similar to those of organs built in Rome (such as in the 1598 Luca Blasi organ in the basilica of San Giovanni Laterano, in the small organ ca. 1600 by an unknown builder in Santa Barbara ai Librari, and later in the century in the 1673 Testa-Alari at San Giovanni dei Fiorentini). We can note these characteristics in even later instruments that have survived, and through descriptions in old contracts: a short-octave 50-key manual, C–f3 (plus five chromatic split keys for D-sharp/E-flat, and G-sharp/A-flat); a Ripieno based on a 16' Principal, an 8' Trumpet with full-length resonators (called Tromboni)5, and a pair of flutes pitched at 4' and 22⁄3'. The scales of the principals and of the Ripieno ranks are very narrow, giving much transparency to the 16' Ripieno, and a very silvery sound, full of light, to the organ. These narrow scalings produce a very clear and pungent timbre, compared to, say, Tuscan organs of the same period, which have wider scalings and tend towards a rounder sound. The Tromboni, frequently found in Roman organs, add power and color. The sound of the Guglielmi organ seems to reflect the grandeur and luminosity of Rome.

JR: The organ’s case design is something special, too.
FC: Its golden case, redesigned in 1699, is a triumph of the Roman Baroque, clearly inspired by Bernini’s style. Gilded carvings show angels that seem to float across the façade: bas reliefs with putti, garlands of flowers, and a big shell crowning the top just behind the major pipes. Three pipes are embossed with a twisting surface, including the central one, 16' low C. The pipe mouths are also gilded with decorative patterns.

JR: Is the Guglielmi organ similar to any of the masterpieces of Italian organbuilding?
FC: I don’t believe so. For example, the famous organs of San Petronio in Bologna (Lorenzo da Prato, 1475, and Baldassare Malamini, 1596) or the 1545 Antegnati at San Maurizio in Milan have quite a different sonority from the Guglielmi. In fact, the characteristic of Italian organbuilding of every era—from the Renaissance to full-blown Romanticism—is to conceive of nuances of sonority that are distinct in every single region (remember that Italy was divided into many small states until 1860).
At times we have stops typical of a school of organbuilding—for example, in the Venetian school, the 8' Tromboncini (a short-resonator reed); in the Lombardy school, the orchestral stops such as Corno Inglese or Flauto traversiere; or in the Tuscan school, the multi-rank Cornetti. But it is interesting to note how very many old organs having the same stoplist (for example, the most common in various parts of Italy is a Ripieno, a 4' or 22⁄3' Flauto, Voce Umana, and 16' Contrabasso in the pedal) offer quite diverse sonorities, above all in timbre (tone color), due to the scaling and type of voicing. The major organbuilders imparted a personal “character” to their instruments, and it was inevitable that a local “school” resulted. This is the great fascination of the Italian organ—the different nuances of timbre, which still needs to be better understood. The Guglielmi organ is a masterpiece of Roman organbuilding.

JR: The instrument is based on a 16' Principal—is that typical for that time?
FC: Almost all the large Roman churches had instruments whose Ripieno was based on a 16¢ Principal. This was probably felt to be necessary due to the vastness of the churches, but certainly also for the desire for a very solemn sound. At the same time, the narrow scalings provided great luminosity and clarity.

JR: Who played the Guglielmi organ? What documents refer to the organ?
FC: Among the famous organists who played the organ were Bernardo Pasquini, who was the organist at Vallicella from 1657–1664, and also in the 17th century Giovanni Battista Ferrini and Fabrizio Fontana (both of them, along with Pasquini, wrote organ music of high quality). Various documents about the organ and its maintenance through the centuries have been published by Arnaldo Morelli, in the musicological journal Analecta Musicologica.6

JR: When was the organ abandoned and no longer maintained?
FC: At the end of the 19th century, a romantic-style organ was built in the right-side choir loft, and from that point the old Guglielmi, after some mediocre work, was gradually abandoned. Yet most of the 17th-century pipework was not altered—neither the mouths nor the pipe lengths. Thus, notwithstanding the negligence, it was possible to again have the original sound, without having to reinvent it, as it was necessary to do in other cases. This was a very good thing.

JR: How did organ restoration in Italy begin and evolve?
FC: Historic restoration in Italy originated with the pioneering work of the celebrated organist Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and the great scholar, the late Oscar Mischiati. The first organ “saved” from restorations that had a tendency to alter and “modernize” historic organs was Graziadio Antegnati’s 1581 masterpiece in the church of San Giuseppe in Brescia, restored back in 1956. In subsequent years, following the directives of these two great experts, it became more common to respect the original features of every instrument, including the short-octave manuals and pedalboards, which previously had been “normalized” through the addition of chromatic keys. Then came the practice of reconstructing the pipes of lost ranks, with faithful copies of authentic pipes by the same maker. In the late 70s there was a return to the old temperaments, where there had been some surviving traces (meantone and its variants). All this spread at first in the north, with the help of government financing, and since the 1980s, also in central and south Italy. Today my country can claim at least ten organ builders who have specialized for a long time in restorations of the highest quality—work that is on a par with the best carried out in the rest of Europe, perhaps even characterized by a deeper historic consciousness.

JR: Who provided the funds for restoring the organ? When did this come about?
FC: The Italian government provided funding for the restoration, and the work took place between 1998–2000. The superintendent of historic and artistic works of Rome entrusted the work to Fratelli Ruffatti of Padua, due to their experience in restoring historic organs in various regions of Italy, with the leading expert Oscar Mischiati as consultant.

JR: What work needed to be done on the organ?
FC: The spring windchest that was found in the organ was almost destroyed by rainwater that had leaked in, but although it was probably from the 19th century it seemed inspired by 17th-century building technique—thus it was reconstructed with the same design. Also lacking was the console, but after an accurate analysis of the pipes, it appeared clearly that its compass was of 50 keys (c1 to f5, with the first “short” octave), plus five added “split” keys, for a total of 55 keys, and the stops arranged vertically.7 The keyboard and pedalboard were reconstructed according to models of the period. The surviving group of original pipes was simply put in the best possible playing condition, and the temperament reset to meantone, with the pitch being detected as A=400—quite low, but close to the documented pitch in use in Rome at that time (i.e., around A=390). Ruffatti’s work has produced a very satisfying result.

JR: What are some other important recent restorations?
FC: Italy has the good fortune to possess very many Renaissance organs, which have had only minor modifications. Among these are the two organs at San Petronio in Bologna (to which I referred earlier), whose restoration, done by Tamburini under the supervision of Tagliavini and Mischiati, was completed in 1982. These two organs have been recorded on many CDs and have been visited by many organists from all over the world. Then there is the splendid 1556 Giovanni Cipri instrument at San Martino (also in Bologna), and the 1521 Domenico di Lorenzo at the church of the Annunziata in Florence.
Among the most important recent restorations, I would name the 1509 Pietro da Montefalco in Trevi (Umbria), restored by Pinchi-Ars Organi, the 1852 Tronci with three manuals and two small pedalboards at Gavinana (Tuscany), restored by Riccardo Lorenzini, and the 1775 Gaetano Callido at Fano (the Marches), restored by Francesco Zanin. Lastly, there is the 1565 Graziadio Antegnati organ in the church of Santa Barbara in Mantua, within the Gonzaga palace, an imposing 16¢ instrument with seven split keys for D-sharp and A-flat, restored by Giorgio Carli. I had the honor of playing the inaugural concert.

JR: Has there been much publicity about the Guglielmi organ?
FC: Unfortunately, after the restoration, nothing was published regarding the organ, and few organists played it. Realizing its importance—a great Roman organ from the time of Frescobaldi!—I proposed to Radio France that they do a CD recording for their “Temperaments” series, and Gilles Cantagrel, artistic director and noted Bach and organ scholar, accepted right away.
The CD notably helped develop interest in this important instrument, which restores the authentic sonority of the organs that the great Frescobaldi—and also Rossi, Pasquini, and their German pupils (Froberger, Kerll, Muffat)—would have regularly played, and for which they conceived their organ works.

JR: Francesco, you have toured a few times in the United States. Do you find that American organists know much about Italian organs?
FC: Generally, I think that it’s quite a mystery—people have only a vague idea—but all the organists that I’ve met in America are very interested to know more! For example, someone who heard the Guglielmi organ through my CD was extremely surprised by the very clear, or as they say, “stringy” sound—but also by the presence of the trumpet rank. Both these aspects are not part of their conception of the Italian organ, if their idea of the Italian organ only comes from visits they made to organs in Bologna rather than Florence. In Italy today, the Italian language is spoken with many varied accents (in the past, dialects were spoken more than they are today), and these differences are found in our old organs as well. It seems to me that the interest in Italian organ music, and the desire to explore it in all its vast scope, is growing. I have the impression that lately, after having concentrated on German Baroque works, people are looking for new repertoire, and the Italian repertory is clearly gaining popularity!

JR: Tell us something about your latest trip to the U.S.
FC: I was surprised to be able to play two historic Italian organs! I had heard of the 18th-century organ at the Eastman School in Rochester, inaugurated last year and now at the center of a strong, thorough study of Italian organ music. Its placement within the museum is really splendid; being surrounded by Italian Renaissance and Baroque paintings, it is put in a cultural context that is so important for those who are knowledgeable as well as for American students. Equally excellent is the positive organ that I played at Cornell University in Ithaca—an instrument with a strong Neapolitan character, built by Agostino Vicedomini in the 1720s. I think that both these instrument were restored very well.
I was also delighted with the sound of the big Flentrop at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago—faithful to the Dutch Baroque aesthetic—and also the John Brombaugh organ in Springfield, Illinois, a fine balance between historic copy and personality. I hope that soon the United States can have more organs in Italian style, maybe entrusting their construction to Italian builders so that the true Italian sonority—luminous and full of character—can be more widespread. I think that in mid-size churches with good acoustics, such an organ could be successful, or in churches where in addition to a traditional instrument there is a desire for an organ with a different sonority. Why not?

The author wishes to thank Fratelli Ruffatti, and especially Francesco Ruffatti, for their kind assistance. All translations are by the author.

One of the most famous organbuilding "schools" in Italy was founded in Venice during the first part of the eighteenth century by Pietro Nacchini, a monk from Dalmatia.1 He established a factory and built over 300 organs mainly for the territories of the Republic of Venice,2 and for the Vatican State, which at the time comprised the largest portion of central Italy.  Although his designated successor was Francesco Dacci, with no doubt his most famous pupil was Gaetano Callido, born in Este, near Padova, who established his own organ factory in Venice and built well over 430 organs during his lifetime,3 some of which were for very distant countries.4

In manufacturing his instruments Callido basically followed the style of Nacchini, with only a few changes, both from the standpoint of tonal composition and type of construction. He conceived an organ as a one-manual instrument, with a limited pedal division. This is confirmed by the fact that in the original list of his works5 the relatively few two-manual instruments were designated as "double organs" and were given two consecutive opus numbers.

Callido's organs were by no means all alike, but their size was dependent upon the presence or absence of certain stops, all chosen among a limited pallet of stops from which the builder never departed.6 By giving the tonal composition of the Great division of the largest organ by Gaetano Callido, built for the Cathedral of Feltre,7 a good picture of his "selection" of organ stops is given.

The first part of the list includes all Principal-scaled ranks that form the "Ripieno". The stops can be used separately in various combinations or all together, collectively activated by a "Tiratutti" consisting of a rotating handle placed on top of the corresponding stop knobs.

Principale                (8')8 almost invariably divided, bass and treble

Ottava  (4')

Quinta Decima                        (XV - 2')

Decima Nona                           (XIX - 11/3')

Vigesima Seconda             (XXII - 1')

Vigesima Sesta                       (XXVI - 2/3')

Vigesima Nona                       (XXIX - 1/2')

Trigesima Terza                    (XXXIII - 1/3')

Trigesima Sesta                     (XXXVI - 1/4')

The last two ranks are often missing in the smaller instruments and are of full compass only in the larger organs, being normally limited to one or two octaves in the bass. The reason for limiting their compass is quite simple: since the highest pitched pipe in the ripieno of a Callido organ is C at 1/8', all ranks break back by one octave once they reach this limit. By doing so the "mixture" composition appears as in Table 1 (as an example I am considering a four-octave keyboard compass, C1 to C5).9

With this configuration, which is common to the majority of Italian historical organs (although the "breaking-back" points may vary at times), a number of pitch duplications are present from mid-keyboard up, to the point that, starting at F#4, only two different pitches are present while playing five pipes. In order not to extend the duplication of pitches towards the lower register and to avoid increasing the number of duplications at the treble, Callido normally ended the XXXIII and XXXVI ranks at the point where they would start breaking back (at F2 and C2 respectively) or further up the scale only by a few notes.

The "registri da concerto" or "consort" stops, as Callido called them, follow. First the flute scaled stops:

Flauto in Ottava (Flute in VIII - 4') often, but not always, divided, bass and treble. Normally built as a tapered flute, it is also found in the form of a metal stopped flute (with stoppers or caps made of leather-coated cork and inserted into the resonators of the pipes) or even as metal chimney flutes, with soldered-on caps.10

Flauto in Duodecima (Flute in XII - 22/3'), normally not divided in bass and treble (but it is divided for example in the Feltre organ). It was normally built as a tapered flute, although some examples of stopped pipes at the lower register and tapered at the treble do exist.

Cornetta (Flute in XVII - 13/5') - treble only, consisting of tapered flute pipes.

Voce Umana (principal-scaled, 8', treble only, tuned flat)

and finally the reeds:

Tromboncini      (trumpet-like regal at 8') bass and treble

Violoncelli (regal with wooden resonators - 8') bass and treble

Another "consort" stop, not present in the Feltre organ but rather common in Callido's instruments, is the Violetta, usually in the bass only, but also as a complete stop, especially in the later instruments. It is a 4' string stop of narrow cylindrical scale, tuned to the unison.

The Pedal division includes, in the Feltre organ, the following stops:

Contrabassi, Ottava di Contrabassi and Duodecima di Contrabassi.  These are three ranks of open wooden pipes at 16', 8' and 51/3' pitch respectively, which are activated simultaneously. In smaller organs only the first two (16' + 8') are present, or just the 16'. In the smaller instruments the 16' pipes are often found as stopped.

Tromboni ai Pedali (a trumpet-like reed, with 1/2 length resonators at 8' pitch)

Of particular interest are the reed stops, for their unusual shape and sound. The resonators of the Tromboncini are made of tin and consist of a lower four-sided portion and a "bell" on top. Their four-sided lead sockets are inserted into walnut boots. The tuning wires are made of brass, with cow horn sledges to facilitate the sliding over the tongues for tuning. The stop at low C (8' pitch) is of 1/8 length, the resonator approximately one foot long.

The Violoncello is even more unusual and complicated. Its resonators are made of cypress wood in the form of a stopped wooden pipe, the stoppers or caps being made of boxwood. The shallots are also made of hand carved boxwood, while the tuning wires, which go through the resonators and their caps on top, are equipped with cow-horn sledges. Unlike the sound of the Tromboncini, rather "biting" and penetrating, the harpsicord-like sound of the Violoncello is very sweet and gentle.

For many of his instruments Callido left a series of "operational instructions" for the organist, intended to give suggestions on how to best use the organ stops in combinations. Several of them, if strictly followed, show us how different the musical taste of the time was from the present. For example, under the title "Elevazione," or stops to be used during Consecration, for opus # 10 Callido specifies: Principale, Voce Umana, Contrabassi . . . and Tromboni! Not the type of pedal combination that we would consider appropriate for quiet meditation. And under the title "Corni da caccia," or sound to simulate the hunting horns, he suggests: Principale, Contrabassi, full ripieno (tiratutti), Tromboncini and . . . Voce Umana! An off-unison stop used along with the ripieno! (Opus # 5, 7, 9, 12, with the addition of the pedal Tromboni in opus # 10). Other combinations of stops are closer to what a contemporary organist would choose to do.

From the standpoint of construction, the instruments built by Callido are of unsurpassed quality. Each pipe is a true masterpiece, with thin, regular, absolutely perfect solder joints. The windchests and all other parts are manufactured with the highest attention for details. Callido was quite obviously trained in a very strict way and demanded the same perfection from his workers.

The contracts with his customers contain a very meticulous description of materials: pure tin for the façade pipes "without any alloy"11; "the rest of the internal pipes made of lead with a 20% alloy of tin."12 And he goes into detail to the point of stating that "the Contrabassi will be manufactured with spruce and painted inside and outside, and will be made of walnut at the mouth . . . " and also "the windchests will be made with walnut from Feltre13 . . . with metal parts made of brass."

It is certainly worth examining in closer detail some of the manufacturing characteristics of Callido's instruments. I will try to do so by describing the most significant components of the instrument in as much detail as it is possible within the reasonable length of a magazine article.

The keyboards

The most common compass of Callido's keyboards was C1-C5, for a total of 45 keys (with first "short" octave)14 or C1-D5, for a total of 47 keys. For the organs featuring the "counter" octave the compass consisted of four complete octaves, plus an extension at the bass consisting of a short octave, real from F1 as in the case of the Feltre Cathedral organ, whose Great manual has a total of 57 keys. When two keyboards were present, the Great Organ division keyboard was always placed on top and the coupling of manuals (Positiv to Great) was made possible by sliding the Great keyboard towards the back by a very short distance (drawer-type coupling, as it is often called in Italy).

The natural keys were normally covered with boxwood and the sharps were made of walnut painted black, capped with a strip of ebony, simple or with boxwood or bone inlays.

The "breaking point" between bass and treble was normally located between the notes C#3 and D3, except for the instruments featuring the "counter-octave," where it was placed between notes A2 and Bb2 .

The total width of a full octave was practically constant at 167 mm and the length of the keys was considerably smaller than in today's keyboards: 71 mm for the sharps and only 39 mm for the front portion of the naturals.

The pedalboard

It was always made with short, parallel and tilted pedals, common to the vast majority of historical pedalboards in Italy. It featured a first short octave and was always permanently connected to the corresponding keys of the manuals (of the Great, when two manuals were present). Its compass was of 17 notes, C1 to G#2, plus a pedal for the "Rollante," or drum, a device simultaneously activating a number of harmonically unrelated wooden pipes, thus reproducing the sound effect of the rolling of a drum. The compass of the pedal division in essence consisted of a full octave, since the notes of the second octave activated the corresponding pipes of the first.

The pipes

The façade pipes were made of pure or almost pure tin and all internal metal pipes were made of a tin/lead alloy with high lead content (about 80 to 85%). The metal was not poured on the table over cloth or marble, but over sand, and then planed by hand. Both the inside and the outside surfaces of the pipe resonators were made perfectly smooth. For the smaller internal pipes a laminating machine was used to roll cast metal into thinner sheets.

Since a few Callido organs, especially in the former territory of the Vatican State, have been found almost intact,15 it has been possible to identify not only the voicing parameters used by the builder but also, in some instances, the original tuning temperaments and wind pressures.

The flue metal stops were invariably voiced with some kind of wind control at the toe. Toe openings were generous, but the voicing could not be defined of the "open toe" type. Consequently, the flue was rather wide and this determined the need for nicking of the languids in order to avoid an excessive transient at the attack, which was obviously considered not desirable in 1700s Venice. Languids were nicked all the way to the smallest pipe in the ripieno ranks, but the nicks, although numerous, were very lightly marked and in some cases almost invisible. This created a precise, clean attack and still a clear and beautiful sound. This voicing practice has one exception: the languids of the Viola pipes were left totally unnicked. And no tonal bridges or beards, which were unknown to the Venetian tradition of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, were used. Consequently, their sound features a very prominent transient at the start, intended to simulate the "noise" produced by the bow of the orchestral Viola when hitting the strings.

The low wind pressure was also a determining factor for obtaining a rich, unforced sound. It was usually set between 48 and 55 mm at the water column, with only a few verified examples of slightly higher pressure.16

Tuning was strictly done by cutting the pipes to length and adjusting with the cone, except for the façade pipes, which were cut close to length and subsequently fine tuned by further carving the back of the resonator at the top in a curved shape. These cuts are called "lunette", or moon-shaped cuts by Italian organbuilders.

Wooden pipes were always made of spruce, painted with a composition of light hot glue and red clay powder, with lower lip and upper lip made of walnut. The lower lip "cover" was fastened with hand-made iron screws. At 16' pitch these pipes could be stopped or open, depending on the size of the instrument. All open pipes were tuned with the cut-to-length method, with an occasional end correction made by applying small pieces of lead sheet or wood on top of the resonator to "shade" the note.

The windchests

The builder exclusively used the conventional slider chests, with table, top boards and sliders made of walnut. The sliders were all built parallel and of constant thickness.17 They always worked "wood-on-wood," without any form of leather seal or any other device intended to avoid the sticking of sliders. This of course required the use of high quality materials, but also a very clever choice of manufacturing techniques. It must be said, from this standpoint, that the "table" or the portion of the chest located under the sliders, which includes the note channels, was made of a solid board of walnut, 40 to 45 mm thick, on which the note channels were carved. This procedure is quite common in historical Italian slider chest construction, and differs substantially from techniques used at the time in northern Europe. Carving out channels from a single piece requires much more work than building a frame and creating the channels by means of inserting dividers, but this technique has a number of advantages. First, and most important, the whole unit is made from the same piece of wood, and this avoids warping and cracking due to contrasting tensions from different pieces of material. Also, the risk of air bleeding between note channels caused by an imperfect gluing of the different elements (table and dividers) is totally avoided, since gluing is not necessary, the elements being built from the same piece of wood. But since no tree would be wide enough to form a windchest table all in one piece, several portions were joined together for the purpose, with alternating direction of the grain in order to compensate for the tendency of warping all in one direction.18

The channels were always of generous size in order to provide adequate supply of air.19 Wooden dividers were placed inside the channels to avoid interference and wind supply instability between the larger pipes of the façade and the reed stops, which were invariably placed in front of the façade, exposed to facilitate tuning by the organist. The pallets were always made of light, straight-grain spruce from the Alps. Their seal consisted of a double layer of sheepskin leather, and the surface on which they rested was also covered by leather. This provided a very effective seal for the wind and apparently did not affect in any way the precision and sensitivity of the tracker action.

The Pedal division consists of only one windchest, located at the back of the organ case. The stop knobs for the Contrabassi pipes open or close a large valve located inside the windline, which controls the air flow to the chest. The reed, when present, is activated by a slider. In practical terms this means that the Tromboni cannot be played separately from the Contrabassi, because the Contrabassi stop knobs, and consequently the air valve, must be open to feed the whole windchest.

The mechanical action

Callido always used the suspended action, which is the simplest and most direct mechanical transmission mechanism. When a Positiv divison was present, always located at the left side of the keyboards, the corresponding keyboard worked in the same fashion, except that the keys is this case pushed down the trackers istead of pulling them.20

The rollerboards for the manual divisions, for the stop action and for the pedal, were made with forged iron rollers fastened to spruce boards by means of brass wire. The "swords" pulling the windchest sliders were also made of forged iron.

The winding system

The most common winding configuration in Callido organs includes two multiple-fold bellows (consisting of five folds) made entirely of spruce wood. They were normally placed one on top of the other and were activated by ropes through a system of pulleys. Their size was rather standardized: larger size bellows were used for the larger instruments, and smaller size for instruments requiring less wind.

Restorations are conducted in such a way that the original winding system is always preserved and carefully restored and, where not present, in many instances built new as a replica of the old.21 A modern blower is usually connected to the system, in such a way however as to keep the hand pumping system operational. This makes it possible to make a very interesting comparison between the original wind supply, slightly irregular due to the small but detectable differences in pressure caused by the manual pulling of the reservoirs, and the more stable supply furnished by the blower. "Flexible winding" as it is referred to today is a different matter: it has to do with the response of the wind and, in practical terms, the drop in wind pressure at the use of certain combinations of stops or notes. From this standpoint, although the phenomena of the so-called "flexible" wind is present in Callido organs, the design of the wind supply system, starting from the size of the bellows all the way to the generous dimensions of the windchest channels, indicates that Callido was trying to avoid instability in the wind supply.

The tuning system

As far as we know Callido never used equal temperament, already present in other parts of Europe at the time. Already well known for a few centuries, it was considered uninteresting and not desirable, especially due to the unpleasant "wide" tierce intervals which are present even in the most commonly used keys. An interesting statement on this subject is given by Giordano Riccati.22 In his book, "Le leggi del Contrappunto" written in 1754, he states: "Practically speaking, I have never been able to find an organ or an harpsichord tuned with the equal 12 semitones." In 1780 and 1790 he stated the same concepts again. But equal temperament continued to be rejected in Italy well into the 19th century. Giovan Battista de Lorenzi, a very ingenious builder from Vicenza, in 1870 created a "moderate temperament" which, although very close to equal, was intended to reduce the "out of tune" effect of the most used tierce intervals.

We know that Callido's master, Pietro Nacchini, for some of his works used a tuning method which consisted in tuning the 11 quint intervals from Eb to G# flat by 1/6 comma each, a method which was very close to the practice of Gottfried Silbermann.24 Callido may also have used this method, but he departed from it at some point and he adopted a variety of similar systems,25 among which the temperament invented by Francescantonio Vallotti, Music Director at the Basilica of St. Anthony in Padova, and Alessandro Barca in 1779, which avoided the wide G#-Eb interval, making it almost pure.26

A unique example of a non-codified temperament comes from the organ built by Callido's sons Antonio and Agostino in 1813 (the year of Gaetano's death at age 86) for the Parish Church of Tai di Cadore (Belluno). This instrument was restored by Fratelli Ruffatti in 1980-81. Prior to restoration, the pipes were found in almost perfect condition, due to the fact that the organ had been left untouched early in its history when the access stairway to the balcony was removed. After cleaning, the pipes were  almost in tune and it was relatively easy to identify and restore a type of unequal temperament which did not follow codified methods and which represented one of the many "variations" introduced by the tuners at the time for a "sensitive" tuning of the instruments.27

The tonal ideals and manufacturing techniques of the Callido factory were carried on, primarily in the Veneto and Marche regions, by a number of organbuilders: in Venice by Giacomo Bazzani, a former worker in his shop, and by his successors; in Padova and its province, among others, by Gregorio Malvestio, a priest (1760-1845), by his nephew Domenico, by Domenico's son Giuseppe and grandson Domenico. The closing down of this shop originated the beginning of the Ruffatti firm.28

In the Marche region Callido had a number of followers including Vincenzo Montecucchi from Ancona, Sebastiano Vici (Montecarotto, 1755-about 1830), Vincenzo Paci (Ascoli Piceno, 1811-1886) and others, who in some cases produced organs so close to Callido's techniques that sometimes their identification as non-Callido instruments requires an expert examination.29                   

Notes

                        1.                  His real name was Peter Nakic, born in Bulic, near Skradin, north of Sibenik, in present Croatia, a former territory of the Republic of Venice. As was customary during the time, his name was "Italianized" and became Pietro Nacchini.

                        2.                  The Republic of Venice during the eight-eenth century was a large State, including parts of Slovenja and Croatia and the present Italian regions of Veneto, Friuli Venezia Giulia and eastern portions of Lombardy.

                        3.                  See Studi e Documenti di Storia Organaria Veneta by Renato Lunelli. Ed. Olschki, Florence, 1973, and also Gli organi di Callido nelle Marche by Ferrante--Quarchioni, Ed Villa Maina, 1989.

                        4.                  Opus numbers 13, 185 and 393 were built for churches in Istambul and opus number 424 for Izmir, Turkey.

                        5.                  The original list or catalogue of organs built by Gaetano Callido survives. It consists of three panels made of canvas on which the opus number, year of construction and location of the instruments were marked in India ink by the builder. Although water damage washed away the names of 88 of his instruments, between the years 1789-91 and 1794-98, it still gives accurate information about 342 organs manufactured in his factory. The last opus number is 430, built in 1806, after which the list was discontinued. In recent years many of the "lost" instruments have been identified.

                        6.                  Only at the turn of the nineteenth century, when Callido's sons Antonio and Agostino were active in the factory, a limited number of "variations" were introduced, in the form of new reed stops (but still of the commonly used "regal" type) and flutes. Times were changing in Italy and a more "orchestral" style of sound, requiring highly characterized solo stops, was being introduced in churches, in the wave of the predominant influence of opera even in the music composed for organ.

                        7.                  This exceptional instrument, built in 1767 (opus numbers 37 and 38) and restored in 1979-80 by Fratelli Ruffatti of Padova, is practically equal in size to another organ, built for the Parish church of Candide (Belluno).

                        8.                  The Great keyboard of the Feltre organ is extended by one octave at the bass . This "counter-octave" as it is commonly called, consists of a short octave (C-D-E-F-G-A-Bb-B) of which only the notes from F up are real, the preceding ones activating the corresponding notes of the higher octave. In essence therefore the Principal starts in this case at 12'F, the Octave at 6', the Fifteenth at 3', etc.

                        9.                  This is the normal system used in Italy to designate not the pitch but the position on the keyboard. F3 for instance designates the note F of the third octave of the keyboard.

                        10.              Due to the absence of the "beards," which makes tuning adjustments possible when the caps are soldered, it is quite obvious that Callido must have had a very precise scale for cutting the resonators of these flutes to length before soldering the caps. Minimal tuning adjustments were however still possible through cone tuning of the chimneys.

                        11.              i.e.,  without the addition of lead, as reported in the specifications for the new organ to be built for the Madonna della Salute Church in Venice, dated September 19, 1776.

                        12.              Same, as above. In other contracts he chooses different alloy compositions for the internal pipes, as in the case of the contract with the Parish Church of Borgo Valsugana, November 8, 1780, where a 15% tin content is specified.

                        13.              The walnut from Feltre (Belluno) was traditionally of the highest quality, dense, dark and almost redish in colour.

                       14.              The short octave, or "broken" octave as it is often called in Italy, consists of 8 keys: C-D-E-F-G-A-Bb-B. The key arrangement is different from normal: basically, it looks like an octave starting from note E, where E plays C, F# plays D, G# plays E and all other notes are in the right place.

                        15.              This is the case of the organ in the convent Church of S. Anna in Corinaldo (Ancona), where Callido's daughter was a nun. The instrument, which is presently under restoration at the Fratelli Ruffatti shop, was found in remarkably good condition, still with the original hand-pumped bellows in good working condition. Since Callido was rightfully considered a master, his work was highly respected over the years by other organbuilders and for this reason the voicing of his instruments was often never altered in spite of the changes in musical taste.

                        16.              It is the case of the Callido organ at the Chiesa della Croce in Senigallia (Ancona), restored by Fratelli Ruffatti in 1993, where the original hinged bellows and their carved stone weights were found. Probably due to the unusually dry acoustics of the church, whose walls and ceiling are literally covered with elaborate wood ornaments and canvas paintings, the pressure was originally set at 60mm at the water column. Another example is the Callido opus 69, 1771 in the church of the Agostinian Fathers, Civitanova Marche. The instrument, restored in 1987 by Pier Paolo Donati, shows an original wind pressure of 64 mm (information courtesy of Dr. Massimo Nigi, honorary Inspector for the "Soprintendenza per i Beni Artistici e Storici" of Florence, a governmental agency in charge of supervising the preservation of Italian ancient works of art).

                        17.              This is not an obvious observation, since a great number of slider chests built in the 17th and 18th centuries in central and southern Italy were built with sliders non-parallel and of decreasing thickness. This feature was intended to avoid the sticking of the sliders. When in the "on" position, the sliders were pushed in and no space was left between the sliders and the other wooden surfaces; on the contrary, when pulled out (stop in the "off" position) the sliders, due to the decreasing thickness and width, could move freely.

                        18.              One might say that, during Callido's time, the problem of artificial heating of churches did not exist, thus making this procedure possible. It is to be noted on this subject that the very high number of strictly philological restorations on these organs by Fratelli Ruffatti and other restorers in Italy, performed without the introduction of any non-original elements for the sealing of the sliders, proves that the original system of windchest construction well withstands changes in heat and humidity level of the air.

                        19.              For a scale drawing of a Callido windchest see L'Organo Callido della Cattedrale di Feltre by Oscar Mischiati. Ed. Pàtron, Bologna, 1981.

                        20.              In this case the key pushes down a wooden tracker which in turn pushes down the rollerboard tracker placed under the keyboard. At the opposite end of the roller the pallet is pulled open by means of a brass wire.

                        21.              In some cases, where the original bellows were replaced in the nineteenth century by the more "modern" multi-fold parallel bellow with pumps, activated by means of a wooden lever or a wheel, the local governmental authorities designated to supervise the preservation of ancient instruments may choose not to have the system rebuilt as a replica of the original but to keep the already "historical" substitute.

                        22.              Born in Castelfranco Veneto (Padova) in 1709, he studied at the University of Padova and became a famous mathematician, architect, expert in hydraulics and music. He was the author of an interesting temperament, which became famous at the time, used by many organbuilders especially in the Venetian area. It was surely used in his later works by Nacchini and possibly by Callido as well.

                        23.              See Patrizio Barbieri, Acustica Accordatura e Temperamento nell'Illuminismo Veneto, Ed Torre d'Orfeo, Roma 1987.

                        24.              See Patrizio Barbieri, Acustica Accordatura e Temperamento nell'Illuminismo Veneto, Ed Torre d'Orfeo, Roma 1987.

                        25.              The result of studies conducted during restorations show that a variety of similar temperaments, which can be defined as variations of the above Riccati and Vallotti temperaments, were used in normal practice.

                        26. The Vallotti temperament in the slightly corrected version by the contribution of Barca, was intended to simplify the Riccati, and consists of a series of six consecutive quint intervals, from F-C to E-B tuned flat by 1/6 comma, and the six remaining quint intervals practically pure (flat by an imperceptible 1/66 comma). The value in cents of semitones of its quint and tierce intervals follow:

Quint intervals cents

F - C        698.4                              C - G      698.4      G - D      698.1                              D - A      698.6                              A - E       698.4                              E - B       698.4                              B - F#    701.7                              F# - C#                        701.5                              C# - G#                      701.6                              Ab - Eb                       701.7                              Eb - Bb                       701.6                              Bb - F    701.6                                                     

Tierce intervals                      cents      

C - E       393.5

F - A       393.5

G - B      393.5

Bb - D  396.5

D - F#   397.1

A - C#  400

Eb - G   400

E - G#   403.2

Ab - C  403.3

F# - A#                       406.4

Db - F   406.5

B - D#  406.5

Keeping in mind that the value of the pure quint is 702 cts and the value of the quint in the equal temperament is 700 (narrow by 2 cts), by analysing the quint intervals of this temperament it is easy to see that they are basically divided in two categories, narrow (but more moderate than, for example, in the 1/4 comma mean tone, which shows a value of 696.5 cts.) and almost pure. As to the tierce intervals (pure tierce = 386 cts, tierce in equal temperament = 400 cts) although no pure intervals are present, five of them are "better" or more in tune than the corresponding ones in the equal temperament, and two more show the same value of 400 cts. It is also to be considered that no tierce reaches extreme values. The absence of really unusable keys and the relatively easy application in practical terms by the tuner have determined the success of this temperament during its time.

                        27.              The Tai temperament includes two "wolf" quint intervals, at the opposite ends of the "circle of quints," one wide (G#-Eb) and one narrow (A-E) and six very good tierce intervals. This system is of particular significance primarily because it shows how far from equal temperament this organ was tuned so late in Callido's history.

                        28.              See Renato Lunelli, Studi e Documenti di Storia Organaria Veneta, Ed. Leo Olschki, 1973, p. 200.

                        29.              Information about Callido's followers in the Marche region are the courtesy of Mauro Ferrante, honorary Inspector for the preservation of ancient organs in the Marche region, appointed by the "Soprintendenza per i Beni Artistici e Storici" of Urbino.

The sights and sounds of Italy offer more inspiration than any score or treatise—they provide clues about the spirit of the music, where words and musical notation fall miserably short

What if I told you that there is surviving Italian organ music as splendid as Giovanni Gabrieli’s In Ecclesiis and as ethereal as Gregorio Allegri’s Miserere? A few months ago, I would not have believed it either. In fact, I was under the impression that compared to Italy’s glorious tradition of ensemble music, its organ music was of lesser importance, and its historical organs were pretty but small. On paper, every instrument looked the same—a single manual, one octave of pull-down pedals, and a stoplist consisting of a principal chorus (the Ripieno), a flute or two, and perhaps a Voce Umana.¹ Three months of studying organ in Italy with Francesco Cera radically changed my mind. I went intending to obtain a more complete picture of early organ music, having already spent time in France, Holland, and Germany. I left in love with a magnificent collection of keyboard music.  

My change of heart began not with the music but with the art and architecture of Italy. The entire country is like a giant open-air museum. Visitors can enter and experience the very places where Gabrieli, Frescobaldi, and so many others made music. That they were inspired by their surroundings is impossible to contest. These places are by definition inspiring. They were designed by the world’s greatest architects and filled with art by the greatest sculptors and painters from anonymous Roman masters to Pinturicchio, Raffaello, Michelangelo, Bernini, Tintoretto, and many others. Elaborate organ cases are among the most striking architectural features of many Italian churches and palace chapels. I began to realize that such glorious spaces where the organ had so much visual importance simply must have resounded with impressive organ playing. 

The instruments themselves also provided indisputable proof. They were far from boring. Though their stoplists were similar, their tonal character varied widely from region to region in a way that perfectly complemented the art and architecture of the area. What of the music that survived for these instruments? At first glance, it seemed simple to me, appeared not to require pedals, and certainly seemed an inappropriate choice for performance on modern instruments. Fortunately, all of this was only an illusion created by a style of musical notation that left many crucial interpretive decisions to the discretion of the performer, who would have been familiar with the contemporary musical style and performance practices. I learned why an understanding and appreciation of historical art, architecture, and instruments and a knowledge of the surviving repertoire and treatises are so crucial for today’s performer.  

Early Italian keyboard music is most successful when its interpretation is informed by historical sources and inspired by the conviction that it is the aural representation of Italy’s breathtaking visual splendor. Italy’s art, architecture, and music can be organized into regional schools based in four of Italy’s most historically important cities: Venice and Florence in the north, Rome in central Italy, and Naples in the south. Allow me to share some of the highlights of my journey to discover their art, historical organs, and keyboard music. 

Venetian Splendor 

Today, the city of Venice continues to exist mainly because of the tourists. Many of the locals have moved to the mainland. Nevertheless, the city’s colorful vibrancy and the remnants of its former grandeur are very evident. The reds, oranges, and yellows of the houses and shops, the green of the canals, the aquamarine of the lagoon, and the glistening white of the church façades are a feast for the eyes. Appropriately, Venice’s painters—Titian, Tintoretto and others—are famed for their use of color and the way that light seems to shine from within their paintings. Of the city’s 114 churches, the Basilica Cattedrale di San Marco is the most famous (Figure 1). One of the finest examples of Byzantine architecture, its exterior is covered with inlaid marble and carvings, while its interior glows with gilded mosaics. Besides its breathtaking opulence, the sheer size of the cathedral is impressive. Remarkably, at the time of Claudio Merulo (1533–1604), Andrea Gabrieli (1533–1585), and the rest of the illustrious line of musicians who worked here, San Marco was not a cathedral, but the private chapel of the Doge of Venice, and Venice was one of the richest and most important cities in the world! My impression of Venetian organ music changed completely when I examined it through the lens of Venice’s vibrant color palette and astounding splendor.

Organs of Northern Italy

The organs of northern Italy are characterized by their cantabile tone. Some also have much more colorful stoplists than organs in other parts of Italy. In 2006, Giorgio Carli completed the restoration of the 1565 Graziadio Antegnati organ of the Basilica di Santa Barbara, the private chapel of the duke of Mantua.  The organ’s case is beautiful. Its richly painted doors contrast with the white walls of the chapel. This instrument was built under the direction of organist and composer Girolamo Cavazzoni (1520–1577). Its 16′ plenum is glowing rather than brilliant, perfect for Cavazzoni’s music, which is closely related to choral polyphony. As was the norm in Italy until the 18th century, the organ is tuned in mean-tone temperament, but the keyboard has split keys (Figure 2), allowing the player to choose between D# and Eb and between G# and Ab, thus enabling one to play in many more tonalities and to better imitate the pure intonation that a vocal ensemble is able to achieve. The keyboard and pedalboard both have particularly long compasses, the keyboard from C to F5 and the pedalboard from C to A2. The music of Marc’Antonio Cavazzoni (1485–1550), Girolamo’s father, demands such a compass. This long key compass also permits the organist to play in different octaves, using the 16′ Principale at 8′ pitch, for example. The winding of this organ is a special treat. Rather than supplying an electric blower, Giorgio Carli installed an automatic bellow lifter to pump the bellows. This allows the player to experience the wonderful flexibility of playing on pumped wind without the trouble of hiring a person to pump the bellows.  

Near Mantua, in the Chiesa di San Tommaso Cantuariense in Verona, stands a well-preserved 18th-century organ built by Giuseppe Bonatti in 1716. It is a two-manual instrument with an unusually colorful stoplist and a lavish complement of special effects. The main manual controls the Grand Organo—the usual Ripieno plus a Cornetto (in two parts: 4′-22⁄3′ and 2′-13⁄5′), Trombe reali, and two flutes. An exquisitely crafted Regale with rare original parchment resonators mounted on a separate windchest like a Brustwerk is also playable from the main manual. The second manual controls the Organo Piccolo, a tiny 4′ echo division situated behind the player. Other special effects include a chorus of bird stops (Figure 3) and a Tamburo (a stop played by the lowest pedal note that imitates a drum using a cluster of bass pipes). The pedals are permanently coupled to the main manual, but this organ also includes an independent pedal reed and Contrabassi—octave of 16′ wooden pipes. The tone of the organ is sweet and elegant, thanks in part to its comparatively low wind pressure, a common feature of Italian organs. The wind pressure of this Bonatti organ is set at 53–55 mm. By contrast, the wind pressure of the comparably sized 1704 Schnitger organ in Eenum, the Netherlands, is set at 62.5 mm. The tonal variety and elegance of the Bonatti organ make it perfect for 18th-century music, including the music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who, incidentally, played this instrument while on tour in Italy.   

Music of the Venetian and Emilian Schools

The keyboard music of northern Italy reached its peak during the Renaissance. Its focal point was the Basilica di San Marco in Venice. The splendid polychoral tradition of the basilica profoundly influenced the organ music of the Venetian school. Composers of the Venetian school were responsible for some of the most important developments in keyboard composition of both the Renaissance and the Baroque. Marc’Antonio Cavazzoni’s collection, Recerchari, mottetti, canzoni–Libro primo, printed in Venice in 1523, is one of the most important examples of early 16th-century organ music. Cavazzoni was born in Bologna, where he probably received his musical training at the Basilica di San Petronio, and likely knew the famous 1475 Lorenzo da Prato organ there. Later he moved to Venice and was an assistant to Adriano Willaert at San Marco. Cavazzoni’s recerchari are particularly significant, because they are among the earliest free compositions for the organ. These recerchari are majestic pieces written in an improvisatory style. Like later toccatas, they investigate idiomatic keyboard figuration rather than counterpoint. While his father, Marc’Antonio, was a pioneer in developing idiomatic keyboard figuration, Girolamo Cavazzoni, organist at Santa Barbara in Mantua, was a master of imitating vocal polyphony at the keyboard. An understanding of the text of the chants, motets, and chansons on which many of his works are based is absolutely crucial for a successful interpretation.  

Claudio Merulo and Andrea Gabrieli worked together as organists at San Marco. Merulo was renowned and influential during his lifetime. Girolamo Diruta dedicated Il Transilvano, one of the most important treatises on Italian organ music, to him. Merulo’s toccatas were the first to alternate virtuosic and imitative sections, a technique that Frescobaldi and the North German organ school would use later. Also, foreshadowing the Baroque, they often use ornamental figures as motives. Merulo’s music is full of unique written-out trills and diminutions. Studying it is an excellent way to learn how to add ornaments to repertoire of the 16th and early 17th centuries. In comparison, Gabrieli’s music may seem rather subdued, but, in fact, it only lacks the profusion of notated trills. Presumably, Gabrieli would have added these in performance. His Ricercari ariosi are particularly beautiful adaptations of the polychoral style.  

Eighteenth-century Bolognese composer Giovanni Battista Martini (1706–1784) was highly esteemed during his lifetime, and attracted students from around the world. Leopold Mozart even asked his advice concerning the talents of his son. Nevertheless, his surviving compositions do not seem to justify his reputation. They are pleasant but simple pieces in galant style. Consider them in context, however, and the picture changes. The majority of these pieces survive in manuscripts written in Martini’s own hand. They are predominantly written in two-voice structure, but occasional figured bass symbols suggest that they were really sketches, and that the organist was expected to fill out the texture by adding chords. Some of Martini’s Sonate per l’Elevazione survive in both simple and elaborately ornamented forms, exemplifying how he might have actually performed them.² Playing Martini’s music as written is a little like stripping a Baroque church down to bare plaster walls. Far from being easy and uninspiring, these pieces are charming examples of Italian Rococo organ style and exciting vehicles for creativity.

Rome’s Legacy

Rome is sometimes called “the Eternal City.” It displays its long rich history in an abundance of art and architecture (Figure 4). Romans are proud of their heritage. In the past, Rome’s great noble families collected antiquities, displaying them in their palaces. The Farnese collection, now on exhibit in the Naples National Archeological Museum, is particularly impressive evidence that admiration of antiquity dates back at least to the beginning of the 16th century. Many of its more than 300 marble sculptures were unearthed in archeological excavations specifically conducted on behalf of Pope Paul III and other members of the Farnese family. These same noble families and the Roman Catholic Church employed contemporary artists as well, who left masterpieces from every historical era. The poignant perfection of High Renaissance works like Michelangelo’s Pietà in St. Peter’s Basilica, the dramatic lighting and gestures of Baroque treasures like Caravaggio’s Crucifixion of Peter in the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Popolo or Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Theresa in the Chiesa di Santa Maria della Vittoria, and the busy ornamentation of Rococo creations like the organ case of the Werle organ in the Basilica di Sant’Eustachio are all on display. In the churches, clouds of angels surround visitors, while the palaces seek to amaze them with marvels of architecture like Bernini’s and Borromini’s staircases, which compete for attention in the Barberini palace. For me, Rome’s deep appreciation of its long tradition of artistic excellence is the key to understanding the music written there.   

Organs of Central Italy

Only a few of Rome’s Renaissance and Baroque organs survive. As in many large wealthy European cities, pipe organs were replaced as fashions changed. Nevertheless, the smaller towns and villages in central Italy are home to a wealth of unique historical organs. It is far beyond the scope of this article to describe them all—the city of Rieti, where I spent much of my Italian sojourn, alone is home to 14 historical organs in varying states of playability. Let me begin by describing one of the oldest organs in Italy. It was built in 1509 by Paolo di Pietro Paolo da Montefalco, and is located in the Chiesa di San Francesco in Trevi, Umbria (Figure 5). This instrument is priceless for many reasons including its antiquity, its proximity to the birthplace of Girolamo Diruta, the way that it documents the history of organbuilding, and certainly also its beauty. Organbuilder Andrea Pinchi told me how thrilled he was to be given the opportunity to restore this instrument in 2005, having been convinced since he was a teenager that the case in the Chiesa di San Francesco held something very special. When it was first built, the organ consisted of a five-rank Ripieno and a Flauto in ottava.³ In the 17th century, a Flauto in duodecima was added, and in the 18th century the important Umbrian organbuilder Fedeli restored the instrument and added a Voce Umana and Cornetta. Because they reflect the historical development of the organ, these stops were all preserved in the restoration. The sound of this organ is bright and brilliant. The small Ripieno easily fills the sizable Gothic church. Like the Antegnati organ in Mantua, this was an instrument designed to imitate vocal music. Its extremely sensitive key action allows the player to create subtle text-like inflections by varying attacks and releases.

The organs that Frescobaldi played at St. Peter’s have long disappeared, but a splendid 17th-century Roman organ does survive to transport Frescobaldi’s sound world to the present day. The 1612 Giovanni Guglielmi organ in the Chiesa di Santa Maria in Vallicella (Figure 6) was restored by Ruffatti in the year 2000, but it continues to lack the international attention that it deserves. It is a large instrument based on 16′ pitch. The grandeur of the Ripieno is enhanced by many doubled ranks and by a trumpet. I was surprised to learn that a trumpet stop was a common feature of large Roman organs. The 1597 Luca Blasi organ of the Basilica di San Giovanni in Laterano, for example, also includes a trumpet. Perhaps the most eye-opening aspect of the Guglielmi organ is its narrow pipe scaling. The organ’s sound is bright, almost nasal, but crystal clear. It is simply impossible to cover up passagework even with the densest chordal accompaniment. The spectacular case of this instrument is also noteworthy. It is, as it were, created using ornamentation, including two giant sculptures of angels, and the entire case is sumptuously overlaid with gold.⁴ The matching case in the other transept of the church now contains an 1895 Morettini organ, which also merits a visit.

Music of the Roman School

Girolamo Frescobaldi (1583–1643) grew up in Ferrara, home of the great d’Este family. While Frescobaldi was young, many notable composers—including Claudio Monteverdi, Orlando di Lasso, Claudio Merulo, and Carlo Gesualdo—visited court. As a child prodigy studying with court organist Luzzasco Luzzaschi, Frescobaldi absorbed these diverse influences. In his early twenties, he decided to seek his fortune in Rome, and proceeded to write and publish some of the most important music of the 17th century and to pass on his skill to talented students from all over Europe.  

Frescobaldi’s music is like the city of Rome. It glories in tradition while being unafraid of innovation. Walking in the footsteps of Lasso and Palestrina, Frescobaldi composes masterful counterpoint, but juxtaposes it with flamboyant baroque figuration, skillfully incorporating affect figures. In his performance instructions that preface Il primo libro di capricci of 1624,⁵ he explains that in his music the metrical relationships that were so important in Renaissance music are now governed by the mood of the music. His sacred music, including the three Masses of Fiori musicali and the two extended elevation toccatas from his Secondo libro di toccate, is deeply spiritual. Frescobaldi masterfully communicates the meaning of the Mass liturgy into his settings. His elevation toccatas take the listener on a journey through contemplation, sympathy, and ecstasy. Though at first glance Fiori musicali seems like just another book of short pieces, when these pieces are considered together they form imposing Mass settings, and it becomes clear that this collection shares the monumentality of other early Roman Baroque sacred art like the baldacchino that Bernini designed for St. Peter’s Basilica (Figure 7).

Similarly, Bernardo Pasquini’s (1637–1710) music demonstrates both his admiration for the past as well as contemporary tastes. His output is extensive and varied, ranging from works like the Fantasia la mi fa fa and the Capriccio in G, which recall Frescobaldi’s contrapuntal works, to figured bass sonatas and versets, to variations, toccatas, and suites in a style similar to that of his friend and colleague Arcangelo Corelli, and foreshadowing the keyboard writing of his most famous pupil, Domenico Scarlatti.  

Michelangelo Rossi’s (1601–1656) music shows the other face of the Roman Baroque—the face that seeks to shock and amaze, especially by breaking the rules. During his lifetime, Rossi was best known as a virtuoso violinist. He also composed at least two operas and spent most of his life working as a court rather than a church musician. His ten keyboard toccatas are formally similar to Frescobaldi’s toccatas, but are full of startling effects and chromaticism that borders on the grotesque. In them, extreme virtuosity makes up for contrapuntal simplicity.  

Neapolitan Daring

Drama and audacity are a key part of Neapolitan art. For twenty-five centuries, Naples has brazenly lain in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius. It is a city of daring and a city of extremes. Emerging from the strange semi-darkness of the old city’s narrow streets, for example, one finds oneself confronted by the glittering brilliance of the bay. Neapolitan art and architecture express this too. Naples is famous for its seemingly quaint hand-crafted nativity scenes. Take a closer look, and you will find them full of drama enacted by humorous and grotesque characters. Behind a most forbidding fortress-like block façade, soars the opulent Baroque interior of the Chiesa del Gesù Nuovo, with its profusion of colorful frescoes, inlaid marbles, and priceless treasures. Similarly, the famous sculptures of the Cappella Sansevero, including Giuseppe Sanmartino’s The Veiled Christ, combine absolute technical perfection with gestures and facial expressions so full of pathos that they do not just invite an emotional response from their viewer, they force one. 

Organs of Southern Italy

My most memorable experience with southern Italian organs occurred during a trip to the town of Teggiano in the region of Campania. The south of Italy is full of secluded towns and villages and many undiscovered artistic treasures. Teggiano is home to several historical instruments, but the two most interesting were built around the turn of the 17th century—one in 1595 (Figure 8) and one in 1619 (Figure 9), only four years after the publication of Giovanni Maria Trabaci’s Secondo Libro de Ricercate et altri varij Capricci. Neapolitan-style instruments from this time period are extremely rare. Neither instrument is playable at this time.⁶ The restoration of the 1595 instrument is nearly complete, but has been suspended because of a lack of funding. The 1619 instrument, though magnificent, is still a ruin. Nevertheless, they still reveal much about Neapolitan organ music from the late Renaissance time. The pipe scaling used in these instruments is extremely narrow and would produce a sound as brilliant and arresting as the glaring Neapolitan sun. In addition, both instruments have very narrow cases that would act only as soundboards, and would not mix or soften the sound at all (Figure 10). 

The Neapolitan area was also home to talented 18th-century organbuilders, including Silverio Carelli. In 1784, Carelli built a beautiful instrument as a gift for the cathedral of his hometown of Vallo della Lucania. Its tone is sweet and full; several ranks including the Principale 8′ are doubled. Its keyboard and pedalboard are both fully chromatic, also in the lowest octave. The case is magnificent (Figure 11). Carelli spared no expense in building this instrument. He even included bagpipes, which could be used to play pastorali at Christmas time—so fitting in an area famous for its hand-crafted pastoral scenes.         

Music of the Neapolitan School

Like the Venetian school of keyboard music, the Neapolitan school flourished during the late Renaissance. Its leader was the Franco-Flemish composer Giovanni de Macque (1550–1614). He worked for the Gesualdo household and later as maestro di cappella for the Spanish viceroy. Giovanni Maria Trabaci (1575–1647) and Ascanio Mayone (1565–1627) served under De Macque as organists of the royal chapel. Their music is radical. De Macque’s in particular is full of daring harmonies and forbidden intervals. How it must have appalled proponents of strict Renaissance counterpoint! But then, it was written in Naples, not in Rome. As was the Neapolitan tradition, the music of De Macque, Trabaci, and Mayone is suitable for performance on keyboard instruments as well as on harp. It stands to reason that the composers assumed that the performer would make adjustments idiomatic to the instruments on which they chose to perform, adding a pedal part on the organ, arpeggiating chords on the harpsichord, and so on. Unlike Frescobaldi, none of the Neapolitan composers wrote prefaces including detailed performance practice instructions, but Trabaci does include an important word of warning in the preface to his Libro primo (1603).⁷ He writes that his music is carefully composed, but that study is necessary to discern the spirit of the music. Should the performer neglect to do this study, it will be their own fault if they did not succeed in realizing his intentions. Of course, it is impossible to know today exactly what Trabaci meant by this statement, but one thing is sure: in order to perform this Neapolitan music convincingly, it is crucial to study, determine the affect that the composer sought to convey, and then to do everything possible to communicate it as intensely as possible.

Conclusions

In conclusion, allow me to offer a few practical suggestions regarding interpreting the notation of early Italian organ music. Musical notation developed over the centuries to include more and more performance information. At first, however, it was simply a memory aid in a musical tradition that was transmitted orally. Early Italian notation of keyboard music gives no information about dynamics or registration, and little information about tempo or the use of pedal. Some composers, like Merulo, for example, notate trills and other ornaments, while others notate only the minimum of ornaments, and still others like Martini provide only a skeleton of their composition. Both the typesetting of modern editions as well as the moveable type in use in the 16th and early 17th centuries make this music appear rigid. Further, the time signatures and note values common at this time tend to be much larger than we are accustomed to today. Quarter notes in the music, for example, are often the same speed as what we would notate as eighth or even sixteenth notes today. As a result, this music can appear simple and boring at first glance. Performed with a good dose of imagination—and, as Trabaci reminds us, sufficient study—however, this music is completely captivating, and its exuberance is sure to attract music connoisseurs and first-time concertgoers alike.  

Diruta’s Il Transilvano (1593), Antegnati’s L’arte organica (1608), and Adriano Banchieri’s L’organo suonarino (1605), along with a good ear, are the best guides for choosing registration. In Renaissance music, a slow tactus permeates the music, and the relationships among meters help to establish a tempo. In Baroque music, the tempo is more flexible and governed by the affect of the music, as Frescobaldi discusses in the prefaces to his Libro primo di capricci and his two Libri di toccate. Historical Italian organs are the best source of information regarding pedaling. With the exception of some 18th-century organs, Italian organs have pull-down pedals with no independent stops, but they are very effective for reinforcing a cadence, harmonic sequences, or a cantus firmus. As Frescobaldi demonstrates in his two toccate sopra i pedali, the pedals can also be used to sustain pedal points. Most composers did not notate these pedal points, though their toccatas often feature extended passages decorating a single harmony. Adding a pedal point in these passages makes the organ sound much fuller and more impressive. Studying written-out ornaments and examples of diminutions in treatises like Silvestro Ganassi’s Opera intitulata Fontegara (1535) will help a performer to develop a repertory of ornaments. Playing from facsimiles of music that were published using beautiful copper engraving, like the toccatas of Frescobaldi and Rossi, allows one to avoid the uninspiring straightness of modern notation. As Frescobaldi counsels in the preface to his Fiori musicali, contrapuntal music should be studied in its original open score format. This is guaranteed to deliver much more coherent counterpoint.⁸   

Now is the perfect time to restore early Italian organ music from its relative neglect. Much music that was unavailable outside Italy has recently been released in excellent modern or facsimile editions, formerly unplayable instruments are being restored, research has uncovered helpful performance practice information, and new recordings of ancient instruments are allowing people around the world to experience their beauty for the first time.⁹ But, in my opinion, the sights and sounds of Italy offer more inspiration than any score or treatise. They provide clues about the spirit of the music, where words and musical notation fall miserably short.

The author thanks Francesco Cera for his assistance in preparing this article.