Mendelssohn and Me: Playing the complete organ works

William Osborne holds three degrees from the University of Michigan, where he studied with both Robert Noehren and Marilyn Mason. He served on the faculty of Denison University for 42 years as Distinguished Professor of Fine Arts, University Organist, and Director of Choral Organizations. He retired from that position in August 2003 to become music director of the Piedmont Chamber Singers in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. He has played recitals across this country, as well as in Europe and Australia and made three commercial recordings. He is author of numerous articles, as well as of two books: Clarence Eddy: Dean of American Organists (Organ Historical Society) and Music in Ohio (Kent State University Press).

Charles Edward Horsley (1822–76), Mendelssohn’s composition student in Leipzig for two years beginning in 1841 and later a family friend of the composer, first met Mendelssohn in London in 1832 during the second of this well-traveled cosmopolitan’s ten visits to England. Through Horsley, Mendelssohn was introduced to George Maxwell, a student of the then-famed Johann Nepomuk Hummel (1778–1837) and organist of St. John’s, Hyde Park, whose modest two-manual instrument built by J. C. Bishop Mendelssohn had expressed an interest in playing.

Such were the small means placed at Mendelssohn’s disposal, but he made the most of them, and many happy afternoons were spent in hearing his interpretation of Bach’s Fugues, his wonderful extemporizing, and the performance of his own Sonatas, and other Organ pieces, then only existing in his memory. As the reports of these meetings became spread through the town, other and larger organs were placed at his disposal, and at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Christ Church, Newgate St., St. Sepulchre’s, and many other London churches he played on several occasions, giving the greatest delight to all who had the good fortune to hear him. I have heard most of the greatest organists of my time, both [sic] English, German and French, but in no respect have I ever known Mendelssohn excelled either in creative or executive ability, and it is hard to say which was the most extraordinary, his manipulation or his pedipulation—for his feet were quite as active as his hands, and the independence of the former, being totally distinct from the latter, produced a result which at that time was quite unknown in England, and undoubtedly laid the foundation of a school of organ playing in Great Britain which has placed English organists on the highest point attainable in their profession.1

Horsley’s memoir can serve to remind us that Felix Mendelssohn (1809–47), a child prodigy (Robert Schumann was to call the man whose first compositions date from 1820 the “Mozart of the nineteenth century”), prolific composer in virtually every medium available to him, conductor of a vast repertory (for example, for two years as city music director of Düsseldorf, where he mounted performances of at least five Handel oratorios in his own arrangements, and later for a decade at the helm of the famed Gewandhaus Orchestra in Leipzig), keyboardist, teacher (particularly as founding director of the Leipzig Conservatory in 1843), impresario, visual artist and poet was, unlike most of the German giants of the 19th century, very much involved with the organ as a means of musical communication.

Mendelssohn the Keyboardist
Mendelssohn began formal piano study with noted Berlin pedagogue Ludwig Berger (1777–1839) in 1815, and made his recital debut three years later at the age of nine. He then studied the organ with August Wilhelm Bach (1796–1869) (who had no direct familial connection to the earlier Bach dynasty, although he was a staunch advocate of the music of its most famous citizen), perhaps from 1820 into 1823, and wrote his first pieces for the instrument during that period. Bach, then the organist of St. Mary’s Church and later director of the Institute for Church Music, published four volumes of organ works between 1820 and 1824 and surely had a significant influence on his teenaged student.
Although Mendelssohn probably considered the piano his principal instrument, he was obviously fascinated by the organ, was intent on developing a significant organ technique, and seldom missed an opportunity at least to try the instruments he encountered on his extensive travels.2 For example, he wrote from Sargans, Switzerland on September 3, 1831 that “happily an organ is always to be found in this country; they are certainly small, and the lower octave, both in the keyboard and the pedal, imperfect, or as I call it, crippled; but still they are organs, and this is enough for me.” He mentioned turning the D-major fugue subject of the first book of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier into a pedal exercise:

I instantly attempted it, and I at least see that it is far from being impossible, and that I shall accomplish it. The subject went pretty well, so I practiced passages from the D major fugue, for the organ, from the F major toccata, and the G minor fugue, all of which I knew by heart. If I find a tolerable organ in Munich, and not an imperfect one, I will certainly conquer these, and feel childish delight at the idea of playing such pieces on the organ. The F major toccata, with the modulation at the close, sounded as if the church were about to tumble down: what a giant that Cantor was!3

Alas, the organ on which he practiced in Munich was also “crippled,” as he mentioned in a letter to sister Fanny on October 6, 1831:

I also play on the organ every day for an hour, but unfortunately I cannot practice properly, as the pedal is short of five upper notes, so that I cannot play any of Sebastian Bach’s passages on it; but the stops are wonderfully beautiful, by the aid of which you can vary choral[e]s; so I dwell with delight on the celestial, liquid tone of the instrument.4

He wrote his parents from Düsseldorf on August 4, 1834 about an outing to “Werden, a charming retired spot, where I wished to inquire about an organ; the whole party drove with me there; cherry tarts were handed to me on horseback out of the carriages. We dined in the open air at Werden; I played fantasias and Sebastian Bachs [sic] on the organ to my heart’s content; then I bathed in the Ruhr, so cool in the evening breeze that it was quite a luxury, and rode quietly back to Saarn.” In that same letter he talked of another

handsome new organ [that] has just been put up at considerable expense in a large choir room, and there is no way to reach it but by narrow dark steps, without windows, like those in a poultry-yard, and where you may break your neck in seventeen different places; and on my asking why this was, the clergyman said it had been left so purposely, in order to prevent any one who chose, running up from the church to see the organ. Yet, with all their cunning, they forget both locks and keys: such traits are always painful to me.5

English Organs
His contact with various English organs has been well documented. On his second visit to Britain he often played the closing voluntary or extemporized at St. Paul’s Cathedral, at that point the only organ in the country with a pedalboard sufficient to accommodate the works of Bach without what one observer called “destructive changes.”
On September 8, 1837 he played several Bach fugues on a two-manual instrument in St. John’s, Paddington. Two days later Mendelssohn was the focus of a particularly memorable event following Evensong at St. Paul’s, described in delicious detail by Henry John Gauntlett (1805–76), himself an organist of considerable accomplishment:

[Mendelssohn] had played extemporaneously for some time, and had commenced the noble fugue in A minor, the first of the six grand pedal fugues of Sebastian Bach, when the gentlemen who walk about in bombazeen [sic] gowns and plated sticks, became annoyed at the want of respect displayed by the audience to their energetic injunctions. “Service is over,” had been universally announced, followed by the command “you must go out, Sir.” The party addressed moved away, but the crowd got no less; the star of Sebastian was in the ascendant. The vergers of St. Paul’s are not without guile, and they possessed sufficient knowledge of organ performance to know that the bellows-blower was not the least important personage engaged in that interesting ceremony. Their blandishments conquered, and just as Mendelssohn had executed a storm of pedal passages with transcendent skill and energy, the blower was seduced from his post and a farther supply of wind forbidden, and the composer was left to exhibit the glorious ideas of Bach in all the dignity of dumb action. The entreaties of friends, the reproofs of minor canons, the outraged dignity of the organists, were of no avail; the vergers conquered and all retired in dismay and disappointment. We had never previously heard Bach executed with such fire and energy—never witnessed a composition listened to with greater interest and gratification . . .6

Two days later Mendelssohn improvised and managed to navigate the entire piece on a three-manual instrument in Christ Church, Newgate (built by Renatus Harris in 1690, enlarged by William Hill in 1834 and considerably altered by that builder in 1838).7 Gauntlett, the “evening organist” of the church, was again present:

Many who were probably present on the Tuesday morning at Christchurch [sic], were probably attracted there more by the desire to see the lion of the town, than from an earnest attachment to classical music: but all were charmed into the most unbroken silence, and at the conclusion only a sense of the sacred character of the building prevented a simultaneous burst of the most genuine applause.

M. Mendelssohn performed six extempore fantasias, and the pedal fugue he was not allowed to go through with at St. Paul’s. Those who know the wide range of passages for the pedals with which this fugue abounds, may conceive how perfectly cool and collected must have been the organist who could on a sudden emergency transpose them to suit the scale of an ordinary English pedal board. His mind has become so assimilated to Bach’s compositions, that at one point in the prelude, either by accident or design, he amplified and extended the idea of the author, in a manner so in keeping and natural that those unacquainted with its details could not by any possibility have discovered the departure from the text . . .

His extempore playing is very diversified—the soft movements full of tenderness and expression, exquisitely beautiful and impassioned—yet so regular and methodical, that they appear the productions of long thought and meditation, from the lovely and continued streams of melody which so uninterruptedly glide onwards in one calm and peaceful flow . . .

Mr. Samuel Wesley [(1766–1837) Gauntlett’s teacher, who was to die on October 5], the father of English organists, was present and remained not the least gratified auditor, and expressed his delight in terms of unmeasured approbation. At the expressed desire of M. Mendelssohn, who wished that he could hereafter say he had heard Wesley play, the veteran took his seat at the instrument and extemporized with a purity and originality of thought for which he has rendered his name ever illustrious. The touch of the instrument, however, requires a strong and vigorous finger, and Mr. Wesley who is at present an invalid was unable to satisfy himself although he could gratify those around him.8

On September 19, as part of the triennial music festival in Birmingham, Mendelssohn first tried the 1834 four-manual instrument by William Hill in the Town Hall, and then improvised on themes from Handel’s Solomon and a Mozart symphony, both part of the same program.9
On July 9, 1842 Mendelssohn paid a visit to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in Buckingham Palace and then described the encounter in a charming letter to his mother written in Frankfurt on July 19:

Prince Albert had asked me to go to him Saturday at two o’clock, so that I might try his organ before I left England. I found him alone; and as we were talking away, the Queen came in, also quite alone, in a house dress. She said she was obliged to leave for Claremont in an hour; “But, goodness! How it looks here,” she added, when she saw that the wind had littered the whole room, and even the pedals of the organ (which, by the way, made a very pretty feature in the room), with leaves of music from a large portfolio that lay open. As she spoke, she knelt down and began picking up the music; Prince Albert helped, and I too was not idle. Then Prince Albert proceeded to explain the stops to me, and while he was doing it, she said that she would put things straight alone.

But I begged that the Prince would first play me something, so that, as I said, I might boast about it in Germany; and thereupon he played me a chorale by heart, with pedals, so charmingly and clearly and correctly that many an organist could have learned something; and the queen, having finished her work, sat beside him and listened, very pleased. Then I had to play, and I began my chorus from “St Paul”: “How lovely are the Messengers!” Before I got to the end of the first verse, they both began to sing the chorus very well, and all the time Prince Albert managed the stops for me so expertly—first a flute, then full at the forte, the whole register at the D major part, then he made such an excellent diminuendo with the stops, and so on to the end of the piece, and all by heart—that I was heartily pleased.10

In early 1845 Mendelssohn was living in Frankfurt, where he was visited by W[illiam] S[mith] Rockstro (1823–95), later a composition student of the master. They met at St. Catherine’s, where Mendelssohn played through all six of his sonatas, soon to be published. Rockstro was later to recall the “wonderfully delicate staccato of the pedal part in the [Andante con moto] of the 2nd [published as the fifth] sonata played with all the crispness of Dragonetti’s mostly highly finished pizzicato.”11

Mendelssohn the Romantic?
Mendelssohn lived his tragically short life during that century that we somewhat glibly define as the Romantic Era. Romanticism in the realm of music conjures up imagery of unbridled, passionate expression, particularly through the use of luxuriant chromatic harmonies (with Wagner as the ultimate exponent of such an approach), as well as attempts at musical pictorialism at a time when purely instrumental music was being touted as the ultimate means of expressing the otherwise inexpressible. Mendelssohn surely had a gift for the pictorial; as witness, the “Italian” and “Scottish” Symphonies, his Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage (an “Overture after Goethe”), or The Hebrides (or “Fingal’s Cave”), another orchestral overture, this one generated by a visit to the west coast of Scotland.
However, scholars agree that much of his work was inspired by an obvious admiration of the idioms of Bach, Handel and Mozart, music of balanced formal structures and elegant clarity. This is particularly evident in what he wrote for the organ, as well as what he played on the instrument. He learned his reverence for Bach through his studies in theory and composition with Carl Friedrich Zelter (1758–1832), director of the Berlin Singakademie, who inculcated those contrapuntal principles we find employed so fruitfully in the organ works. Father Abraham Mendelssohn acknowledged the impact of Zelter’s tutelage in a letter of March 10, 1835:

I felt more strongly than ever what a great merit it was on Zelter’s part to restore Bach to the Germans; for, between [Johann Nikolaus] Forkel’s day [1749–1818] and his, very little was ever said about Bach . . . [I]t is an undoubted fact, that without Zelter, your own musical tendencies would have been of a totally different nature.12

It was with Zelter’s Singakademie that the 20-year-old Mendelssohn conducted his famed “revival” of Bach’s Passion According to St. Matthew on March 11 and 21, 1829.
A prime symbol of Mendelssohn’s adulation of Bach is the recital he played on August 6, 1840 in the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig as a means of raising funds to build a memorial to Bach, a goal finally achieved with its unveiling on April 23, 1843. The substantial repertory consisted entirely of works by the honoree:

Fugue in E-flat major (“St. Anne”), BWV 552
Prelude on “Schmücke dich,” BWV 654
Prelude and Fugue in A minor, BWV 543
Passacaglia in C minor, BWV 582
Pastorale in F major, BWV 590
Toccata in F major, BWV 565
The formal recital was framed with improvisations. The first served as a prelude to the “St. Anne” fugue. According to Schumann, the other was based on the Lutheran chorale O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden (the language by Paul Gerhardt commonly translated as “O sacred head, now wounded”) and ended with a fugal passage that included the BACH motto (H equaling B-natural), “rounded to such a clear and masterly whole, that if printed, it would have appeared a finished work of art.”13 Mendelssohn’s adoration of the Leipzig master is also reflected in the fact that, other than improvising and his own works committed to paper, Mendelssohn as an organist, with passing exceptions, otherwise played only Bach.

As a Composer of Works for the Organ
Until recently, most were aware of only two sets of published pieces by Mendelssohn for the organ: the Three Preludes and Fugues, opus 37, issued in 1837 and dedicated to Thomas Attwood (1765–1838), a student of Mozart and organist of both St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Chapel Royal; and the Six Sonatas, opus 65, issued in 1845. However, due to the splendid and meticulous scholarship of Wm. A. Little, since 1989 we have been offered access to a larger corpus of work. Dr. Little studied manuscripts found in libraries in Berlin and Kraków, Poland, and has made available through a five-volume collection published by Novello a considerable number of preludes, fugues, duets, sets of variations and individual movements simply defined by their tempo markings. Many of these are preliminary versions of what was later published by Mendelssohn, and some are inconsequential juvenilia (including Mendels-sohn’s earliest work for the organ, a Praeludium in D minor dated November 28, 1820, written at a time when he was studying with A. W. Bach), but a handful of the truly independent movements warrant performance, and Dr. Little’s work allows the possibility of a better understanding of Mendelssohn’s evolution as a composer by comparing preliminary with more mature versions of familiar movements from the published pieces.
“[Mendelssohn’s] compositions were reflections of his celebrated improvisations, which had as a foundation the polyphonic traditions of the Baroque. The mature organ compositions went beyond a single style of music, however, and exhibited a skillful combination of Baroque and Romantic characteristics, masterfully integrated by his distinctive musical personality.”14 Although finally and distinctly “Mendelssohnian,” one can delineate a handful of distinct idioms in his works for organ: fughettas and fully developed fugues (obviously based on an understanding of the Bachian model, but not slavishly dependent on it); employment of Lutheran chorale melodies as a cantus firmus or as the basis of variation sets; the virtuosic toccata; improvisatory moments, almost approximating instrumental recitative; an awareness of the English voluntary tradition of the preceding century (a slow introductory section followed by a faster, sometimes fugal section); and the lyric, one-movement character piece, the sort of expression that was to flower fully in, for example, Mendelssohn’s Songs Without Words for the piano. Idioms that seem more natural at the piano do appear; Mendelssohn’s virtuosity on the pedals results in demands on the feet that equal those made of the hands.

The Published Works
Three Preludes and Fugues, opus 37
Little, volume I
Published in 1837 simultaneously in London by Novello and in Leipzig by Breitkopf & Härtel
The Novello edition was dedicated to “Thomas Attwood Esqre / Composer to Her Majesty’s Chapel Royal.” The Breitkopf & Härtel edition was dedicated to [in translation] “Mr. Thomas Attwood / Organist of the Chapel Royal / in London / with Respect and Gratitude.”
Prelude and Fugue in C minor
Prelude and Fugue in G major
Prelude and Fugue in D minor
Initial versions of the three fugues had apparently been written earlier (although only that in C minor appears in the Little edition) and were simply mated with preludes written during Mendelssohn’s honeymoon of early April 1837. Organists should be aware of and perhaps consult for stylistic comparisons Mendelssohn’s Six Preludes and Fugues, opus 35, for the piano, which had been written over a period of years prior to their publication, also in 1837.

Six Sonatas, opus 65
Little, volume IV
Published in 1845 simultaneously by Coventry & Hollier in London (Six Grand Sonatas for the Organ), Breitkopf & Härtel in Leipzig (Sechs Sonaten für die Orgel) and Giovanni Ricordi in Milan (Sei Sonate per Organo); 6 Sonates pour l’Orgue ou pour Piano à 3 mains was issued by Maurice Schlesinger of Paris in 1846.
Sonata I in F minor: Allegro moderato e serioso—Adagio—Andante recitativo—Allegro assai vivace
Sonata II in C minor: Grave—Adagio—Allegro maestoso e vivace—Fuga, Allegro moderato
Sonata III in A major: Con moto maestoso—Andante tranquillo
Sonata IV in B-flat major: Allegro con brio—Andante religioso—Allegretto—Allegro maestoso e vivace
Sonata V in D major: Andante—Andante con moto—Allegro maestoso
Sonata VI in D minor: Choral—Andante sostenuto—Allegro molto—Fuga—Finale, Andante
In July 1844 the English publisher Charles Coventry initiated what became opus 65 by commissioning Mendelssohn to write a set of three voluntaries for the organ. On August 29 Mendelssohn wrote Coventry, asking that the label “sonata” replace “voluntary,” saying that he didn’t quite understand the precise meaning of the latter term. He continued to assemble individual movements, some reworked from earlier efforts, some new for the occasion, and finally committed himself to what was published in April 1845. At one point there was discussion about titling the collection “Mendelssohn’s School of Organ-Playing,” suggesting that the pieces could serve a didactic function, but that label was abandoned prior to publication. Given their evolution, it should come as no surprise that these assemblages do not meet textbook definitions of what a typical four-movement sonata ought to be, although No. 1 hints at the conventional (its opening loose sonata-form movement finds a double in the first movement of No. 4). Chorales appear in four of the sonatas. Fugal writing appears in all but No. 5, and No. 3 contains a brilliant double fugue. Even the minimal suggestions of registration and terraced dynamics suggest a retrospective viewpoint.

The Previously Unpublished Works
Little, volume I
Fugue in C minor [Düsseldorf, July 30, 1834]
Fughetta in D major [July 1834?]
Two [Duet] Fugues for the Organ in C minor and D major [Düsseldorf, January 11, 1835]
Fugue in E minor [Frankfurt, July 13, 1839]
Fugue in C major [Frankfurt, July 14, 1839]
Fugue in F minor [Frankfurt, July 18, 1839]
Fughetta in A major
Prelude in C minor [Leipzig, July 9, 1841]
The first two pieces became the basis for the third, inscribed as “Two fugues for the Organ / to Mr. Attwood with the author’s best and sincere wishes.” An accompanying letter informed Attwood that “I take the liberty of sending to you two fugues for the Organ which I composed lately, and arranged them as a duet for two performers, as I think you told me once that you wanted something in that way.” The idea for the duets perhaps arose from an experience of June 23, 1833, when Attwood and Mendelssohn performed a four-hand version of one of the former’s coronation anthems on the instrument in St. Paul’s. The Fugue in C minor later became the second movement of Opus 35, No. 1. The Fugue in C major later became the final movement of Opus 65, No. 2.

Little, volume II
Andante in F major [July 21, 1844]
Allegretto in D minor [July 22, 1844]
Andante [with Variations] in D major [July 23, 1844]
Allegro [Chorale and Fugue in D minor/major] [July 25, 1844]
Con moto maestoso in A major [August 9, 1844]
Andante/Con moto in A major [August 17, 1844]
Allegro Vivace in F major [August 18, 1844]
Allegro in D major [September 9, 1844]
Andante in B minor [September 9, 1844]
[Chorale] in A-flat major [September 10, 1844]
Adagio in A-flat major [Frankfurt, December 19, 1844]
[Chorale] in D major
Allegro in B-flat major [Frankfurt, December 31, 1844]
With its “pizzicato” pedal line, the Allegretto in D minor seems a premonition of the second movement of Opus 65, No. 5 (see Examples 1a and 1b). The Con moto maestoso and following Andante became the two movements of Opus 65, No. 3. The Allegro Vivace became the final movement of Opus 65, No. 1. The Allegro in D major and Andante in B minor became the third and second movements of Opus 65, No. 5. The Adagio in A-flat major became the second movement of Opus 65, No. 1.

Little, volume III
Allegro moderato e grave in F minor [Frankfurt, December 28, 1844]
Allegro con brio in B-flat major [Frankfurt, January 2, 1845]
Andante alla Marcia in B-flat major [Frankfurt, January 2, 1845]
Moderato in C major
Fugue in C major
Grave and Andante con moto in C minor [Frankfurt, December 21, 1844]
Allegro moderato maestoso in C major
Fugue in B-flat major [Frankfurt, April 1, 1845]
Choral [& Variations] in D minor [Frankfurt, January 26, 1845]
Fugue in D minor [Frankfurt, January 27, 1845
Finale—Andante sostenuto in D major [Frankfurt, January 26, 1845]
The Allegro moderato e grave in F minor became the first movement of Opus 65, No. 1. The opening of the Allegro con brio in B-flat major generated the first movement of Opus 65, No. 4 (see Examples 2a and 2b). The following Moderato and Fugue in C major provided the genesis of the third and fourth movements of Opus 65, No. 2, while the Grave and Andante con moto are the obvious parents of the opening movements of that same sonata. The Chorale, Variations and Fugue in D minor, with some reworking became the bulk of the Sonata in D minor, Opus 65, No. 6. The Finale—Andante sostenuto in D major in 3/4 meter was transformed with substantial alterations into the final movement of that same sonata as an Andante in 6/8 (see Examples 3a and 3b).

Little, volume V
Praeludium in D minor [November 28, 1820]
Fugue in D minor [December 3, 1820]
Fugue in G minor [December 1820]
Fugue in D minor [January 6, 1821]
Andante—sanft in D major [May 9, 1823]
Volles Werk [Passacaglia] in C minor [May 10, 1823]
Chorale Variations on “Wie groß ist des Allmächt’gen Güte” [July and August 1823]
Nachspiel in D major [Rome, March 8, 1831]
Fuga pro Organo pleno in D minor [Berlin, March 29, 1833]
Andante con moto in G minor [London, July 11, 1833]
In this volume of early works (including Mendelssohn’s first essays for the instrument), only a single piece seems to have inspired a mature work: The Nachspiel [Postlude] in D major provided the basic material of the Allegro maestoso e vivace of the Sonata in C, Opus 65, No. 2, which blossoms into a quite different fugue from that of the sonata.
For organists Mendelssohn’s works for their instrument admirably fill the void that had developed after the death of Bach, a period virtually devoid of significant writing for the instrument. They have maintained currency to the present and inspired an interest in the instrument on the part not only of Mendelssohn’s contemporaries (as witness, Schumann’s Six Fugues on BACH, opus 60, written in 1845 and published a year later), but several of his successors as well.

Margaret Sandresky is a graduate of Salem Academy and College with a major in organ performance. She earned a master’s degree in composition with a minor in organ at the Eastman School of Music, and later received a Fulbright Grant for the study of organ with Helmut Walcha at the Hochschule für Musik in Frankfurt am Main, Germany. She has held positions at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, the University of Texas at Austin, the North Carolina School of the Arts, and at Salem College where she is Emeritus Professor of Music. Her articles have been published in The Journal of Music Theory, Music Theory Spectrum, The American Liszt Society Journal, Ars Organi, and The American Organist. Her seven volumes of organ music are published by Wayne Leupold Editions, and her anthems are published by Paraclete Press. In 2004, she received the Distinguished Composer award given at the AGO convention in Los Angeles, and in 2006 was honored by St. Andrews College with the Sam Ragan Award for distinguished service to the Arts in North Carolina.

In the summer of 1829, after an extended journey through the British Isles with his friend Klingemann, the twenty-year-old Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy completed his trip with a visit in Wales, where he made sketches, now lost, of the piece he intended to present to his “dear little sister,” Fanny, as a special gift for her wedding to William Hensel on October 3.1
Back in London, he met with an accident on September 17, seriously injuring his leg when he was hit by a light horse-drawn vehicle he called a “stupid little gig.”2 On September 25, he wrote his mother that he had “thought of a splendid idea” for Fanny’s wedding piece, but now he wouldn’t be able to present it until after the wedding.3 By November 6, he wrote his father that he had been laid up in bed for five weeks, was just going out for his first drive, and could almost walk without crutches.4
It was during this time that he completed the proposed piece for Fanny’s wedding. Since the final working manuscript is either lost or in private hands, the only available music is a sketch, now in the Bodleian Library. It is written on two staves, the bottom staff mostly blank, the top staff outlining the melody and briefly indicating the harmony.5 This is unmistakably the same material that appears as the opening and closing sections of Mendelssohn’s Sonata III. Many years later, when he was assembling material for the organ sonatas, he inserted between the sections two fugues with the chorale Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir (“In deep need I cry to thee”) as a cantus firmus.
The outer sections form two strong A-major homophonic pillars surrounding the two inner fugues in A minor, which, by means of their dark chromatics, jagged rhythms and tumbling 16th notes, seem contrastingly very dark and stormy. In each fugue, after the exposition for four voices in the manuals is completed, the chorale melody is introduced in the pedal as a fifth voice.
The second movement that closes the work is a simple song form. The two movements must have been conceived together, since they are dated August 9 and 17, 1844, probably while he was still vacationing in Bad Soden near Frankfurt, where his wife’s family lived. The use of this particular chorale, its stark contrast to the A-major sections, and why it is spread over the two fully developed fugues are questions that are discussed in the following paragraphs.
Mendelssohn was only seven years old when his wealthy and cultivated Jewish parents had their children baptized at the Neue Kirche in Berlin. In these early years, the music and worship of the Lutheran Church must have had a profound influence on him, for his use of Lutheran chorales as well as his interest in the organ and his dazzling performances on that instrument testify to an enduring love for this music throughout his life. By the time he was twelve, he was studying Bach fugues and writing one of his own as shown in the following charming note to his teacher, August Wilhelm Bach.

Berlin, the third day of the lovely month of May, 1821.
What does the sexton say, my dear Herr Bach? Can we play this afternoon? Or is there a wedding? or a confirmation . . . Greetings to the Prelude and Fugue in G Minor. I am presently sweating over an organ fugue, which will come forth into the world within the next few days. My heartfelt greetings to all the principal (sic) pipes, yours faithful (sic),
F. Mendelssohn6

Aus tiefer Noth
Mendelssohn showed an early interest in “Aus tiefer Noth” by composing a cantata on the chorale in 1830, a year after his English journey. Then on his travels in 1831, he must have been particularly interested when he found a copy of the Sebastian Bach organ chorale prelude on the same melody.
He wrote the following to his sister, Fanny, on her birthday, November 14, 1831, from Frankfurt am Main:

Oh my dear little sister and musician . . . I want to give you one of the unbelievingly [sic] moving Seb. Bach organ pieces which I just got to know here . . . Now play this chorale with Beckchen [another sister] . . . and think of me. . . . NB. The chorale is with double pedal.
Bach composed only one chorale prelude with double pedal, so Mendelssohn must be referring to Bach’s setting of “Aus tiefer Noth.”7
The chorale itself, composed by Martin Luther in 1523–4, was the first one for which Luther wrote both words and music. (Example 1) The previous year he had composed his first melody, to the poem “Ein neues Lied wir heben an,” after two young martyrs were immolated in Brussels, Belgium. “Aus tiefer Noth” stems from the same time.8 Luther’s poem is taken from Psalm 130, De Profundis, a psalm of redemption. Since metrical translations in English hymnals, by their very nature, cannot be specific, the following is my literal translation and, though awkward, may be helpful in grasping Luther’s meaning.

Verse I
Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir,
Herr Gott, erhör mein Rufen.
Dein gnädig Ohren kehr zu mir,
und meiner Bitt sie offen;
denn so du willst das sehen an
was Sünd und Unrecht ist getan,
wer kann, Herr, vor dir bleiben?

In deepest need I cry to thee,
Lord give ear to my cry.
Thy gracious ear incline to me,
And to my plea be open;
Then as you are sure to watch,
What sin and lawlessness is done,
Who can, Lord, stand before you?

Verse V
Ob bei uns ist der Sünden viel,
bei Gott ist viel mehr Gnade;
sein Hand zu helfen hat kein Ziel,
wie gross auch sei der Schade.
Er ist allein der gute Hirt
der Israel erlösen wird
aus seinen Sünden allen.9

Though by us there be many sins,
By God is much more grace.
His hand will help us without fail,
However great the peril.
He is alone the shepherd good,
Who will release Israel
From all her sins.

Bach’s chorale prelude is found in his Clavier Übung Part III in the section of Catechism chorales, and represents the sacrament of confession and forgiveness, known in the Lutheran Church as the Office of the Keys. It is the form for the confession and absolution of sin and derives its name from Matthew 16:19 and John 20:21–23.10
Mendelssohn’s early cantata on “Aus tiefer Noth,” op. 23, no. 1, published in 1832, takes its pattern and style from the cantatas of J. S. Bach. It is in five movements, one movement for each verse of the five verses of text. The first and last verses are set in a simple chorale harmonization, the second and fourth are a fugue and a chorale prelude with introduction, and the middle movement is for three solo voices with chorus and organ. Although “Aus tiefer Noth” is in the Phrygian mode, the cantata is firmly in F minor, and the cadences avoid any trace of the Phrygian in their strong tonality. The contrapuntal writing is a perfect model of 18th-century counterpoint.

The fugues of Sonata III
In the later Sonata III, the Phrygian character of the chorale is retained. (Example 2) Here Mendelssohn presents the chorale in the pedal transposed to A minor, inserting a B-flat before the A at the proper cadence points; and at the close of the second phrase (mm. 46–47), he uses a Phrygian cadence harmonizing the B-flat to A pedal as IV/6 to V in D minor. On the other hand, where this phrase is repeated in the second fugue, the B-flat to A is harmonized in the key of G minor as I/6 to VII/6 (mm. 69–70) and is not at a cadential point in the overall work. However, the final cadence (m. 92) is Phrygian, IV/6 to V/9, and introduces a long pedalpoint leading into the pedal cadenza.
The expositions of the two fugues illustrate two different aspects of Mendelssohn’s fugal writing. (Example 3) In the first fugue, the exposition (m. 24) follows traditional fugal procedure. Scale steps 5–6 at the beginning of the subject are answered by scale steps 1–3 (m. 28). The order of entry is bass, tenor, alto, soprano. After the exposition, the chorale enters in the pedal, overlapping the last measure of the answer. The chorale is split between the two fugues. Phrase one, phrase two, and the repetition of phrase one are presented in the first fugue, and the fugue closes with a half cadence in A minor, composed of a Neapolitan sixth chord going to a dominant ninth followed by a five-measure pedalpoint.
It is worth noting that because Mendelssohn decided to make his two fugue subjects compatible as invertible counterpoint and to bring them together near the end of the second fugue, he designed them both on the same vertical sonority, the V/vii7. (Example 4) Thus it was convenient to divide his cantus firmus between the fugues at a point where the dominant could function in both places, with the result that he did not follow the rhyme scheme of the text or the form of the chorale, which is abab-ccd, but split it after the repetition of the second phrase, aba-bccd. (See Example 2.)
In contrast to the scholarly correctness of the first fugue, Mendelssohn seems to have designed the second one with Romantic fervor, avoiding scholarly constraints and directing the performer to play with gradually more and more animation. The A-minor subject beginning on scale steps 5-6-5 (m. 58) and outlining a dominant/diminished area, tumbles down in 16th notes to C-sharp, throwing it into the subdominant key of D minor by means of this chromaticism. One remembers here that in the old modal system, D really would have been the dominant of the Phrygian on A. These events present two problems for the tonal system, solved traditionally by answering scale steps 5-6-5 with 1-3-2 and by returning the modulating subject to the proper key in the answer. Mendelssohn does neither.
Since the modulating pitch, C-sharp, is the very last note of the tenor subject, whose proper tonal answer, 1-3-2 in the alto, would force a cross relation between the C-sharp and a C-natural, the situation requires deft and imaginative treatment. (See Example 3.) Mendelssohn gives the alto a real answer (m. 60). However, in order to halt the continuous modulation of subject and answer and not stray too far from the main key, he ends his real answer by writing an F-natural instead of F-sharp, thus preparing for the third entry of the subject in the soprano and remaining in D minor. Here, one may be surprised to hear a tonal subject, scale steps 1-3-2 in D minor (m. 62); but the subject, placed now in the highest voice, sounds exciting, overarching, overreaching, and not like a misplaced answer. The fourth entry in the bass (m. 64) is then a real answer to a tonal subject; and this upside down arrangement ending in D minor effectively prepares the two measures of chromatic secondary dominant-seventh chords leading from the exposition to the entrance in the pedal of the fourth phrase of the chorale, where he is heading temporarily for F minor.

The outer sections of Sonata III
Under analysis, the principal thematic material in the opening and closing sections of the sonata seems drawn from the opening phrase of the chorale, whose first interval of a descending perfect fifth from E to A appears, now in the key of A major and filled in stepwise, as the opening gesture of the main theme. (Example 5) This “filled in” fifth dominates Mendelssohn’s thinking here, for it occurs some twenty times during the course of this section. The same pitches also appear in measure two of the second movement. Again, in the first phrase of the chorale, the ascending leap of a fifth moving up a half step to the sixth degree of the scale may be interpreted as the interval of a sixth appearing in several places throughout the sonata. First, it occurs between measures one and two of the opening theme; second, it appears twice at the recapitulation in the pedal from low C-sharp to A and then up to F-sharp. Finally, it appears as the first two pitches of the second movement. The chorale provides one other motive. Compare the scale steps 5-6-5 in the first two measures of the chorale to the subjects of each fugue.
Such an analysis, then, shows that the entire movement, and in a broader sense the entire work, can be viewed as evolving from one theme, that of the chorale, and not from separate ideas. This coincidence presents a conundrum: did Mendelssohn either consciously or unconsciously have the “Aus tiefer Noth” chorale in his head during the closing weeks of his English journey, and turn it into a joyful bridal piece by filling in the melodic skeleton and changing the mode? Then years later, did he decide to expand Fanny’s piece into the Sonata III? This would explain the juxtaposition of seemingly disparate parts, the wedding piece, the chorale, and the fugues. But why put them together?

Why “Aus tiefer Noth”?
One answer may lie in the important significance the music of Mendelssohn’s faith had in his life. For example, in the top right-hand corner of many pieces he wrote “Hilf du mir” or “H.d.m.” (“Help thou me”) before he began work. According to my Evangelisches Gesangbuch, “Aus tiefer Noth” is the chorale for the week of the eleventh Sunday after Trinity.11 Mendelssohn, in his letter of April 14, 1829 from Hamburg, where he made a visit before embarking on his first trip to England, wrote that he couldn’t comment on theatre and music in that city since everything was closed during Holy Week there.12 That would place the eleventh Sunday after Trinity near August 25, just the time when he was in Wales, where he wrote a long letter to his father that day from Llangollen, in which said he had “done a little composing.”13 These documents show how he could have decided to use the chorale for that week as the basis for a triumphant expression of joy celebrating Fanny’s marriage. Years later, as he assembled the sonatas, remembering the relation of the chorale to Fanny’s piece, he added two fugues over the same chorale.
Why two fugues rather than just one? Could it be that Mendelssohn was thinking of the two fugues as a memory of the two young martyrs who influenced Martin Luther’s first complete chorale, “Aus tiefer Noth”??

Frank Rippl is a graduate of Lawrence University Conservatory of Music, where he studied with Miriam Clapp Duncan and Wolfgang Rübsam. He is co-founder of the Appleton Boychoir, coordinator of the Lunchtime Organ Recital Series in the Appleton, Wisconsin area, and has been organist/choirmaster at All Saints’ Episcopal Church in Appleton since 1971.

I arrived in Cleveland on July 5th with a mixture of emotions. I was glad to revisit a city I enjoyed many years ago when I took a summer course in Orff Schulwerk at Case Western Reserve University, but I was in a bit of a funk after my flight that was supposed to leave the day before was canceled. United’s friendly skies were shut down by a computer glitch. But I finally found myself in this beautiful city with its elegant buildings on Lake Erie. I give extra snaps to any city that has light rail service from its airport to the center of downtown. At the Marriott, I had a corner room with lots of windows and a great view of the famous Terminal Tower. I felt better. I was reminded of the quote our brochure had printed from an ad published by Cleveland organbuilder Walter Holtkamp, Sr. (1894–1962): “A town of good organs, a profitable place to visit.” After I registered, I looked over the 284-page convention Atlas, which contained extraordinary amounts of information on the organs, venues, and towns we were to visit. It began with a fascinating monograph by Stephen Pinel entitled “The Early Organ Culture of Cleveland,” loads of colorful pictures, and ads (including a reprinted one from long ago that featured Jesse Crawford promoting “Barbasol”).

Pre-convention concert
After greeting lots of old OHS friends, I boarded a bus for Trinity Episcopal Cathedral and a pre-convention event. The cathedral grew out of Cleveland’s oldest congregation, Trinity Church, founded in 1816. They built Cleveland’s first church in 1829. The present Indiana limestone building, designed by Cleveland architect Charles F. Schweinfurth in the English perpendicular Gothic design, was completed in 1907, and contains several bits of historic beauty: a 1457 cross beam from Southwark Cathedral, London, some windows from the 14th and 15th centuries as well as some by Tiffany, plus Oberammergau carvings. If that weren’t enough, they have two organs by Dirk Flentrop: a 2-manual, 13-stop organ from 1976 in the choir, and the 1977 3-manual, 39-stop instrument in a small gallery above the rear entrance. Horst Buchholz, cathedral organist, greeted us, as did Michael Barone, who would serve as an unofficial host throughout the week. He introduced convention chairperson Joseph McCabe, half of his former self. His weight loss was the envy of all of us. We then sang “O Beautiful for Spacious Skies,” it being July 5.

Both organs were used—Dr. Buchholz played the smaller choir organ and Alison Luedecke the larger organ at the other end of the building. Most of the concert was played by Dr. Luedecke, who began with a spirited reading of Bruhns’s well-known Praeludium in E minor—a great demonstration piece. Then came Pachelbel’s Variations on “Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele,” featuring one of the organ’s lovely cornets, and the clear 4′ flutes. Next was the Bach/Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor, listed in the program as Prelude and Fugue in A Minor—J. S. Bach. This cheery music was just right for an opening concert of the convention and was well suited to the instrument at hand. She next played Irish Jig for the Feet by Mary Beth Bennett, a charmer of a piece—airy and graceful. Buchholz and Luedecke then added some pieces by Melchior Franck and Hermann Schein, using both organs to show off stops we had not heard—kromhoorns and the like. Luedecke ended with the Doppel Fugue über ‘Heil dir im Siegeskranz’ (God Save the King) by John Knowles Paine. She played it well—untangling both fugue subjects with ease.

Opening concert
The official opening concert was that evening at the Cleveland Masonic and Performance Arts Center, with a recital by Peter Richard Conte on the 4-manual, 41-rank Austin organ, Opus 823, from 1919. The building is an enormous weathered brick structure, and the large auditorium has steep stadium seating. Its former elegance is somewhat faded, but the acoustics are good and the room is still used for recordings by the Cleveland Orchestra. To the left of the stage is a 4-manual Wurlitzer console awaiting its pipes; work is ongoing. The Austin console is in a somewhat cramped nest above and to the right of the stage; the pipes are in a chamber above the console. A large movie screen center stage projected a close-up of Conte’s hands. Technical difficulties with the camera or the projector provided more distraction than necessary, but it was still good fun to see those famous hands at work. This recital was both the closing concert of the ATOS convention and the opening concert of the OHS convention—it was a treat to share a common bond. There were a surprisingly large number of people present who belonged to neither organization.
The concert was vintage Conte. He began with his own transcription of Bernstein’s Overture to Candide, then an assured and strong reading of Guilmant’s Marche Religieuse, op. 15, no 2, and two transcriptions from Widor’s Bach’s Memento: Pastorale, in which we heard the beautiful Clarinet and Oboe stops, and Mattheus-Final. Conte then played his own transcription of Fritz Kreisler’s Variations on a Theme of Arcangelo Corelli. His right hand bounced effortlessly between Swell and Choir without missing a beat—when you are used to the six-manual Wanamaker console, a four-manual instrument must be mere child’s play.
Robert Elmore’s Fantasy on Nursery Tunes followed, a charming piece, great for introducing the organ to children—if they still know the old nursery tunes! Conte brought the program to a close with the Final by Franck. Throughout the evening he spoke to his large audience with humor and grace. It was a brilliant and virtuoso performance.

Monday, 6 July 2009
After a pleasant drive out in the green countryside on a sunny, cloudless morning, we arrived at St. Martin of Tours Roman Catholic Church in Valley City, Ohio, to hear Andrew Scanlon demonstrate the tonally intact 1881 Odenbrett & Abler organ, built in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The 2-manual, 19-stop organ stands in the rear balcony of the church, which dates from 1861, and is now used as a chapel for a larger structure next door, built in 2002. A handsome organ, with polished tin façade and butternut case, it is believed to be the last extant instrument by this builder. Paul Marchesano announced that this organ will receive an OHS Historic Citation.
Andrew Scanlon, recently appointed to East Carolina University and to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Greenville, South Carolina, opened with Marche Romaine by Gounod. He played it with fine breadth, giving a good demonstration of the warm chorus sounds of each manual. Next were two pieces by Langlais: Prière from 24 Preludes, in which we heard a clear and lovely Oboe; and Elévation, from Suite médiévale, which features the tune Adoro te devote. Everyone loved this organ!
Mendelssohn’s Prelude in C Minor followed. It was registered boldly, creating a good contrast to the Langlais. Scanlon played it with great vigor using this fine organ’s resources nicely. He then played Folk Tune, from Percy Whitlock’s Five Short Pieces. I loved the solo Open Diapason 8′ with its warm, room-filling sound in the tenor register.
The hymn was “Christ the Lord is risen again” (Orientis partibus); the French Medieval tune was most appropriate for this church. Next was Everett Titcomb’s Regina Coeli, in which we heard a goodly variety of this fine organ’s stops. Scanlon closed with Bach’s Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552 (St. Anne). Every line was clearly delineated in this great piece on an organ with no mixtures. We heard refined voicing and first-rate playing!
We then proceeded to Berea and St. Adalbert’s Roman Catholic Church, the oldest Polish church in Ohio, and its 1904 organ by Cleveland organbuilder Votteler-Hettche (2 manuals, 9 stops). The performers were Dennis Northway and his student and former Biggs Fellow Adam Gruber. The parish priest reported that the organ cost $6,000, and was just restored for $25,000! Attractive white and gold altars with statues stood beneath a half dome in the apse, which featured a painting of the ascending Christ. Pink marble lined the sanctuary.
Northway began with Pachelbel’s Ciacona in D Minor, making each voice of this lovely organ shine in the 16 variations; the flutes were especially nice. Sixteen-year-old Adam Gruber gave us some Rheinberger: Three Trios, op. 49. During the hymn, “Come, Labor On,” Ora Labora, teacher and student shared the bench, playing with four hands—this added “upperwork” to the sound. Northway inserted a piece not in the program, In a Quiet Mood, a gentle reflection by Arkansas composer Florence Price. Gruber ended with the Toccata in D Minor by Gordon Balch Nevin.

We then went to the grand old Masonic Temple in Lakewood for a hearty lunch in its basement. We worked off our lunch by climbing several flights of stairs to the grand old lodge room, where we heard a concert by OHS favorite William Aylesworth, playing the 2-manual, 13-stop Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling organ, Opus 1287, from 1916; it stands in a balcony opposite the stage in this elegant room, which is decorated in an Egyptian motif all around.
Aylesworth began, appropriately enough, with Masonic March by Theo Bonheur (Charles A. Rawlings, 1857–ca. 1930), which bounced along in good fashion. Next were Frederick Archer’s (1838–1901) Prelude, which demonstrated the lovely strings, and Motivo, a quiet little piece, followed by Summer Fancies, op. 38, no. 2, by Rossetter G. Cole (1866–1952).
Next was Choral Hymn by William Spark (1823–1897), in which the warm-throated Great Diapason alternated with the Swell Vox Humana. Guilmant’s Mélodie, op. 46, no. 4, followed. The last piece was Under the Double Eagle by Josef Franz Wagner (1856–1908). Bill got us all clapping in unison to the irresistible pulse of this music. This was another fine demonstration of a historic organ by a player with a keen insight into instruments from this period, and who always chooses literature appropriate to the instrument and the culture of its time.
I daresay that the next venue was a big reason many of us came to this particular convention: the opportunity to hear the famous 1957 4-manual, 44-stop Beckerath organ in Cleveland’s Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church in an all-Bach recital by Joan Lippincott. When we pulled up to the church, it seemed somehow strange that such a fine and famous organ could be standing in a church that had clearly fallen on hard times. The 1874 structure was in a rather ordinary neighborhood. Its interior was in sad shape, with peeling paint and water stains, but up in the balcony, sure enough, was the Beckerath—its case painted in various shades of blue with gold trim. The church’s warm and positive young minister has brought the parish back from the brink of closing. The organ is being restored, and has brought in many new members, who come from other parts of the city to hear it played and to enjoy his fine preaching. The significance of this organ cannot be overstated. Our Atlas had this to say about it and other European tracker organs imported in the late 1950s: “ . . . these instruments provided fuel for the first chapter of America’s own tracker revival, for player and builder alike.”
We began with the hymn Nun Danket, and sang a verse in German and then repeated the first verse in English, singing in parts. Two selections from the Leipzig Chorales followed. In Nun Danket alle Gott, BWV 657, Lippincott used the powerful Cornet from the Rückpositiv. In Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654, she used that Great 8′ Principal to accompany the Cornet on the Kronpositiv. Next came the Prelude and Fugue in C Major (9/8), BWV 547. Pure exultant joy permeated every note. The phenomenal fugue has four voices on the manuals, saving the pedal for the end, when it presents the subject in augmentation. The full organ sound is magnificent: grand and yet transparent.
Lippincott then played the E-flat Trio Sonata, BWV 525. The third movement was taken perhaps a bit too fast, and got a little shaky, but she brought it along nicely. She ended with a first-rate performance of the Passacaglia and Fugue in C minor, BWV 582. Lippincott clearly has great affection for each piece and for this wonderful organ.
Late in the afternoon, we returned downtown to our hotel for a lecture given by John Ferguson on “The Life of Walter Holtkamp, Sr.” It was a fascinating walk through the career of this pivotal figure in American organ building. Professor Ferguson pointed out Mr. Holtkamp’s desire to learn from but not copy the old masters. His organs were on low wind pressure, and he used slider chests, but they were not encased; the pipes were displayed. Those visual designs were stunning to mid-20th-century Americans, and he would build the first mid-20th-century American trackers. Holtkamp was a strong-willed man, but was a colleague to his fellow organ builders, and went on to form APOBA in 1941.
After another superb dinner at the Marriott (the chef was amazing!), I walked the few blocks to St. John the Evangelist Catholic Cathedral for the evening concert by Ken Cowan, playing the Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling organ from 1948. There are actually two organs: one in the gallery, and one in the chancel, with two duplicate 3-manual stopkey consoles, each controlling both organs. The gallery organ has its Great division mounted on the railing in a kind of case with pipework unenclosed. The Swell and Choir divisions are enclosed in chambers on either side of the rear window, with the Pedal spread out between the manual divisions. The chancel organ is behind a gorgeous, hand-carved wooden screen that stands behind the altar. With a generous amount of reverberation, beautiful and even voicing, this is a very nice organ. Cowan was joined by trumpeter Jack Sutte of the Cleveland Orchestra. (On a personal note, I would learn that evening that Mr. Sutte’s father, the late John Sutte, was a classmate of mine at Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin. Meeting this brilliant young trumpeter was very moving for me.) The fading evening sun faintly lit the stained glass windows from Munich as we eagerly awaited the concert.
Cowan opened with Mendelssohn’s Overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, transcribed by Samuel P. Warren. The sounds were marvelous in the splendid acoustics of the cathedral. Cowan is a master colorist, registering his pieces with uncommon sensitivity. Elegant use of the Swell and Choir shades are Cowan trademarks. His second piece, Stimmen der Nacht, op. 142, no. 1, by Sigfrid Karg-Elert, demonstrated the beautiful strings and the Vox Humana. A warm and wonderful piece, it grew to a full sound, then pulled back to a bubbling flute on the Choir and the Vox Humana—beautiful sounds.
After a brief crash of the solid-state combination system, they managed to repair it and were able to move on to what I found to be the most interesting piece of the evening, Okna Fenster: Windows, after Marc Chagall, a four-movement work by Petr Eben for organ and trumpet. I. Blue Window dashed all over the place leaving splashes of color in every corner of the cathedral. II. Green Window was more serene, with muted trumpet and Messiaen-like sounds. The serenity gave way to darker images and louder organ tone with a growling 16′ pedal reed. A more playful section followed, and we returned to sounds heard at the beginning. III. Red Window began ff in the organ. The Swell closed a bit as the trumpet joined. The music was reminiscent of “Night on Bald Mountain.” Things calmed down a bit, but that darker imagery was never far away, and it returned. IV. Gold Window began with the theme (a Russian Orthodox chant many of us knew from the Episcopal Hymnal 1982 in a setting of “The Beatitudes”) played on the foundation stops. There was dialogue material between trumpet and organ, ending with a toccata-like section. Fantastic music!
After intermission, Cowan began the second half with Reger’s Introduction and Passacaglia in F Minor, op. 63. It rolled through the gothic arches of this splendid building. He played it masterfully, using the expression pedals to create wonders of shading. For the first time that evening, we heard the full magnificence of this organ. He next played Elegy by George Thalben-Ball. They inserted a piece by Tomassi entitled Holy Week at Cusco. Sutte joined Cowan, alternating between piccolo trumpet and regular trumpet, which was muted at times. We then sang that glorious hymn “I Vow to Thee My Country,” whose tune comes from Holst’s The Planets—Jupiter. It made every Anglophile’s spine tingle!
Ken Cowan closed the program with Variations on ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ by Dudley Buck. It was played at the request of convention chairperson Joseph McCabe, and was just the right dessert following the dense music that preceded it. We all sang along on the last variation. Cowan played with total abandon and clarity—he makes everything he plays sound so easy. Thus ended the first full day.

Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Our first stop on Monday took us to Cleveland’s Pilgrim Congregational Church UCC, a massive Richardsonian Romanesque structure, to hear their 3-manual, 36-stop Farrand & Votey organ, Opus 719, from 1894. The organ was rebuilt several times; in 1992 it was restored by the Holtkamp Organ Company. (Our Atlas told us that Walter Holtkamp, Sr. attended this church as a boy.) It stands proudly right up front in this Akron-plan building. The pipes are handsomely stenciled, and the case is crowned with a wooden statue of an angel blowing a trumpet.

The concert was given by Stephen Schnurr, his student Micah Raebel, whom we heard at the 2007 convention in Indiana, and young tenor Nathan Leath. We began with the hymn “All hail the pow’r of Jesus’ Name” (Coronation), using both piano (Raebel) and organ (Schnurr). They then launched into a surprisingly effective piano-organ arrangement of Franck’s Prelude, Fugue and Variation, op. 18. Next, Schnurr played a lovely Berceuse (1911) by James H. Rogers (1857–1940). We heard many attractive sounds of this beautiful organ, especially the strings, flutes, and the Concert Flute. The next piece was also by Rogers, Theme and Variations, ‘Second Suite’ (1915), which showed off the fine Doppel Floete and Oboe.
Two more pieces by Rogers followed: Two Offertory Songs: 1. Today if ye will hear his voice, and 2. Out of the Depths. Leath sang and Raebel accompanied him on the organ. Both young men did very well with this literature, which was well-suited to this grand old building and organ. Micah Raebel then ended the concert with a dashing performance of the splendid Toccata (from Dix Pièces) by Eugène Gigout. I give Steven Schnurr and Dennis Northway much credit for sharing the spotlight of a national convention recital with their students.

Our second stop of the day took us to a sad yet proud place: the beautiful St. Procop’s (short for Procopius) Catholic Church in Cleveland, founded as a Czech parish in the late 19th century. I admired the beautiful marble altars and statuary, the windows, and wall decoration. I found myself seated next to a very old man, well into his late 80s. I asked him if he was a member of this church, and he said that he was, but added, “it’s a dirty shame, though. The bishop is going to close it on October 30. He is closing 50 churches in the diocese.” His voice was bitter and sad. He told me that he and his wife were married there many years ago. A nun who was in charge of the parish proudly touted the fact that she had brought the parish into the black—all bills were paid; but it was still closing on October 30. We presented her with an album of photographs our superb OHS photographers had taken of this beautiful church. She was deeply touched.
The organ was in the rear balcony: a 2-manual, 22-stop, 1913 instrument by Votteler-Hettche, originally tubular-pneumatic, now changed to electric action. The organ had not been heard in many years, but was made playable for this concert by several OHS volunteers. Many members of the parish had joined us, eager to hear the organ once again.
The recitalist was Randy Bourne, who began with Wagner’s Friedensmarsch from Rienzi. With the first sound emanating from the organ, the dear old man next to me jumped slightly; he then leaned forward. After a moment, I noted a tear fall from his eyes to the floor. It broke my heart. Such is the power a pipe organ and its history in the building in which it stands has over our hearts and emotions. The piece was a grand gesture to this gracious old building and the people who worshiped there.
Beethoven’s Minuet in G major, WoO 10, no. 6, was next, smartly played on a variety of 8-foot stops. A cipher, unfortunately, began on the Swell, and many hands attempted to repair it. Soon enough, it was just fine again, and we went on to the third piece, Mélodie in E-flat Major (Souvenir d’un lieu cher, op. 42, no. 3) by Tchaikovsky. (The Wagner, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky pieces were all played by Edwin Arthur Kraft at the dedication of this organ.) We all admired the sweet tones of an instrument whose fate is unknown after the church closes. We then sang the hymn “Sing praise to God, our highest good” (Mit Freuden Zart). It was very moving for all the St. Procop’s parishioners to hear the fine OHS singing. I suspect that there were few dry eyes all around. It was like being at a funeral.
Bourne ended with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in C Minor, op. 65, no. 2. It was well played and a good chance to hear the power of this fine organ. With heavy hearts, we left this sad and beautiful church wishing there was something we could do to help their circumstances.
Our buses took us to Holy Angels R.C. Church in Sandusky for a hymn sing accompanied by some of our members on the 9-stop, 2-manual Carl Barckhoff organ (1885) that had stood silently in the corner of the balcony for decades. The church got it working for us. It was a great moment! Let’s hope it continues to be used. Sandusky is an attractive town on the shore of Lake Erie, with countless churches. At one intersection, I saw three churches!

After lunch, we went to Sandusky’s First Congregational UCC to hear Christopher Marks demonstrate the fine 1875 Johnson & Son organ, Opus 462, 2 manuals, 26 ranks—an organ with a wild history of countless moves, finally finding its way to its present location in 1982 in a restoration with additions and replacement of two missing ranks by my friend James C. Taylor, of Kaukauna, Wisconsin. It stands in an alcove to the right of the altar area in an Akron-style Richardsonian Romanesque building with a beautiful stained glass window in the ceiling. Marks began with Spring Greeting (1896) by Nathan Hale Allen (1948–1925), a charming celebration of spring. Next was Night: A Meditation (1907) by Arthur Foote—lovely, evocative music, which he played with great sensitivity, using the organ’s sweet, soft sounds very well. After the hymn “Now, on land and sea descending” (Vesper Hymn), came a chorale prelude on that same tune by Samuel B. Whitney (1842–1914)—another charmer of a piece, followed by Horatio Parker’s Scherzino, op. 66, no. 3 (1910). Marks closed with a muscular reading of Dudley Buck’s Allegro vivace non troppo from Second Sonata, op. 77 (1877). This was a fine and entertaining program with Christopher Marks’s usual brilliant playing.
Our buses took us to Toledo and the elegant Toledo Museum of Art. We were to have heard a demonstration by Robert Barney of the 1785 Johannes Strumphler 1-manual cabinet organ. Alas, it was not to be, as we had gotten behind schedule. So we made our way into the large 1750-seat auditorium known as “The Peristyle” to hear the 4-manual Skinner organ from 1926 in a recital by Stephen Tharp. First, however, we were granted a fascinating lecture by Joseph Dzeda and Nicholas Thompson-Allen, two of America’s organ restoration experts. Dzeda told us that the organ had been dead—it took two years to restore it. It features an automatic player mechanism, and they told of a recently discovered collection of organ rolls. We heard one that was 80 years old by a Mr. Snow, a New York City organist, playing Saint-Saëns’ My Heart at Thy Sweet Voice. The effect was pure magic. It should be pointed out that the ushers and security staff had agreed to stay late so that we could hear Tharp’s recital on their treasured organ, a recital that was now two hours late—the only scheduling glitch of the week. We were all very grateful.
Stephen Tharp, looking quite snappy in his black and tan Captain Kirk-like attire, came out to the console, located center stage. He began with Mendelssohn’s Overture to St. Paul, which opened with the intoning of “Wachet auf” on the Tuba Mirabilis. This W. T. Best transcription makes one think that the piece was written for the organ, it’s that idiomatic. Tharp played it brilliantly.
Next came the Adagio from Widor’s Symphony VIII. Its mysterious and melancholic sonorities worked wonderfully on this organ’s strings and foundations. Tharp then played Elgar’s Larghetto, Serenade for Strings, op. 20, in a transcription by C. H. Trevor. Quiet strings accompanied a soft solo stop. He used the tremolo to great effect, turning it on and off as a singer would use vibrato, and used the shades very well, too. The last piece was the Fantasy and Fugue on ‘How Brightly Shines The Morning Star’, op. 40, no. 1, by Max Reger. It was marvelously played. Tharp managed to untangle all of Reger’s intense and driving lines and bring them into focus. On the way, we got to hear more of the very beautiful solo stops that Skinner left as his legacy. By the time he got to that amazing fugue, we were in awe once again of E. M. Skinner’s genius and the orchestral style of organ building. And we were, most assuredly, in awe of Stephen Tharp.
We then bused to Toledo’s great Cathedral of Our Lady, Queen of the Most Holy Rosary, easily the largest church building we would enter during the convention—it is absolutely spectacular. We were fed dinner in the cathedral parish hall, but many of us could not resist a peek into the massive church before we ate. It is truly one of America’s great cathedrals, with marble, elegantly carved wood, glorious frescoes, huge soaring stained glass windows, and a ceiling that towers over the grand baldacchino and altar. The Skinner organ, installed in 1931, has 4 manuals, 59 stops, and 75 ranks. The console is on the floor of the sanctuary, and the pipes are in a chamber above and to the left of the altar.
Stephen Schnurr presented the cathedral with an OHS Historic Organ Citation for its magnificent 1931 Skinner organ. Our Atlas told us that it is tonally and technologically intact, “with not only the pipework but all original console and relay mechanism intact.” Todd Wilson was our performer. He grew up in Toledo, and this instrument was a great source of inspiration to him. He began with Dupré’s Cortège et Litanie, op. 19, no. 2, as transcribed by Lynnwood Farnam, which made for a great program opener—a moving and powerful introduction to this organ.
Next came three English miniatures. The first was John Stanley’s Voluntary in F, which he played on the diapasons, then on the flutes as a quiet echo. A chirpy cornet-like sound danced about. The acoustic favored the music pleasantly. The next “miniature” was C. S. Lang’s wonderful Tuba Tune in D, one of my favorite Easter preludes. The huge scale of the solo reed was thrilling. The third English miniature was the beautiful Londonderry Air, as transcribed by Edwin H. Lemare. Wilson called forth gorgeous lush sounds from the organ and played it with great sensitivity. Near the end we heard the warm Vox Humana, the 32′ flue, and the celestes. He reduced the organ to a whisper and gave us one last pluck from the 32′. It was truly lovely.
Wilson ended the first half with Franck’s Choral No 1. in E—a marvelous choice for this organ and this room. The organ has all the right stops, and he used them in just the right way. His tempo was consistent throughout, which held everything together.
The second half began with Gerre Hancock’s Variations on ‘Ora Labora’. The tune was written by T. T. Noble upon the occasion of the founding of St. Thomas’ Choir School in New York. We then sang the hymn “Come, labor on.” The Hancock variations were quite good, showing lots of variety. Soprano Nancy Canfield joined Wilson in Les Angélus, op. 57, three songs by Louis Vierne evoking the three hours of prayer in a day: Au Matin, a gentle rocking piece; A Midi, noon, a bit heartier and more robust; and Au Soir, a quiet piece introduced by the ringing of a handbell three times. It ended very softly.
Wilson then performed Prelude on “Iam sol recedit” (1924) by Bruce Simonds (1895–1989), demonstrating the classic Skinner soft solo reeds on this extraordinary organ. He concluded with the well-known jaunty Allegro vivace from Widor’s Symphonie V, played masterfully. The organ fills this great marble and stone space with tones high and low, laughing reeds, and rumbling basses. Wilson plays with fantastic but controlled drive. The ending at fff was astonishing. Reluctantly, we left this great cathedral and boarded our buses for the drive back to Cleveland.

Wednesday, 8 July 2009
We began the day with a lecture at the hotel by Sebastian M. Glück on “The Grand Romantic Organs of Jewish Synagogues,” a fascinating lecture on a little-known subject. I’ve long admired Glück’s fine writing, and his lecture did not disappoint. We saw many historical photographs of temple organs, and learned how they went in and out of fashion.
Our first stop of the day was at Plymouth Church UCC in Shaker Heights, a prosperous and leafy suburb of Cleveland. The church itself has a 3-manual Holtkamp, but we were to hear the organ in their chapel: an 1844 George Stevens organ that has bounced all over the country from Boston to the west coast and back east to Plymouth Church. Many things have changed on the organ in its various moves, but it remains a nice instrument with two manuals, 27 stops, and 22 ranks. It was first heard by the OHS convention in San Francisco in 1988. The organ stands in a rear balcony. It has an ivory-colored case, with robin’s egg blue façade pipes and gold pipe shades.
We were pleased to have Bruce Stevens demonstrate this organ for us. He began what was to be another of his stellar OHS recitals with Pachelbel’s Partita on ‘Was Gott tut das ist wohlgetan’, a great choice for an organ demonstration. We sat in chairs already turned round facing the organ in the rear gallery. The room is in a New England meetinghouse style, with clear glass windows that brought in abundant morning sunshine. The wood floor and rounded ceiling gave much resonance to the room as we sang the hymn “What e’er my God ordains is right” (Was Gott tut).
Stevens then played O Clemens! O pia! from Five Invocations by Henri Dallier (1849–1934), in which we heard the Swell Dulciana with tremulant accompanying a Great flute playing in the tenor register. He ended with the ever-popular Dubois Toccata from Twelve Pieces, in which we heard the Great Trumpet used as a chorus reed. Stevens played very well, giving us much to enjoy. His usual refinement, shaping of phrase, and delicacy of articulation were all on display. This very old organ is robust yet gentle, and it was a great start to the day!

Next was another fine Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling organ, Opus 1602, from 1938, in St. James Anglican-Catholic Church. The rector greeted us in cassock and surplice, carrying his beretta. The church is a small gem, with many pretty things. The organ is in the back on the main floor, with a sort of fence dividing its place from the nave. The organ is really the work of Walter Holtkamp, and was a great chance for him to work out his own ideas on organ building. The Positiv division is mounted on the wall, unenclosed. The organ has 3 manuals, 20 stops, and 25 ranks.
The program, played by John Ferguson, was to be a hymn-sing with chorale preludes. It was abbreviated, however, causing some confusion. He opened with Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in C, BWV 545, which was nicely played. Next was Herbert Howells’ Psalm Prelude, Set I, No. 2. It worked well, but seemed to want a celeste. Then came three settings of Es ist ein Ros’, by Praetorius, Dennis Lovinfosse, and Brahms, after which we sang the hymn “Earth and all stars.” Ferguson’s clever introduction and verses assigned to voice types, plus a rather cheeky verse for the organ on verse four that included references to “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” made for much fun. I was happy to surrender that verse to the organ because I can’t sing about “loud boiling test tubes” with a straight face. The hymn “Now thank we all our God” ended the program. He improvised a fitting postlude on Nun danket.
After lunch at the hotel, we had the annual meeting, and then walked across the large civic mall to the Cleveland Public Auditorium, a vast structure. Built in the Italian Renaissance-style and spanning two city blocks, it was completed in 1922. We found ourselves on a great stage somewhat awed by the place, curtains drawn on both sides of us. All 500 OHSers were completely silent as we stood there looking up into the wings, on one side, at the massive E. M. Skinner organ with its 5-manual console. The pipes were on the second story of the wings, and, we were told, went back some 45 feet. We had all seen the photos of what was to come next once the curtains would part, and the anticipation was building. Finally the curtains on our left opened revealing a large, 2,700-seat theatre—red and gold done up in Spanish motifs. And then the curtains on our right parted, and we saw the vast interior of the convention hall, which seats 15,500. At 300′ long, 215′ wide and 80′ high, with no supporting columns, it is quite a sight. And there we stood on this stage made to serve both venues, beneath this enormous Skinner organ. The location, in the wings, was not great for the projection of the organ’s sound, but the architects would not have it any other way. So, we were told, the organ did its best work in radio broadcasts. It has now fallen into disuse and only a few sounds could be heard that day.
Convention chair Joe McCabe gave a good talk on the building and the organ. Young Jonathan Ortloff played the parts of the organ that worked and then crawled around in the chamber making some of the large pipes speak. He was like a monkey swinging fearlessly from tree to tree. It was left to our imaginations to wonder at the instrument’s potential. In fact, the fate of the organ and its building is uncertain—what a pity. It is truly a stupendous place. You can view a video of the organ at <www.organsociety.org/2009/welcome.html&gt;.
Our next visit was to the great Shrine Church of St. Stanislaus in Cleveland. It is a large building, beautifully decorated in 19th-century style, with statues and elegant carvings everywhere. It was built to serve the Polish immigrants who flocked to the city at the end of the 1800s. The good-sized 2-manual, 39-stop, 33-rank William Schuelke organ was built in Milwaukee ca. 1909; it got rather beat up in a tornado that toppled the church’s enormous 232-foot steeples. The organ was rebuilt by Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling as Opus 1579 in 1933. Work was done in 1988 that left the organ unplayable. James P. Leek Organ Company of Oberlin, Ohio releathered it, and installed solid-state switching. It stands today in the rear gallery.
Our recitalist was Rhonda Sider Edgington, making her fourth OHS convention appearance. She began with two of Schumann’s Four Sketches for Pedal Piano, op. 58, numbers 1 and 4, which gave a good hearing of the foundation stops. Next came two selections from Karg-Elert’s Choral Improvisations, op. 65: Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir and O daß ich tausend Zungen hätte, which showed off several of the beautiful solo stops on this fine organ and the generous acoustic of the church. I especially liked the Doppel Flute—but then I always like Doppel Flutes! Cantilène (1900) by David Fleuret (1869–1915) followed—very nice music, which floated blithely through the church, gently moving along without a care in the world. Next came Mendelssohn’s Fugue in E Minor, played with snap and polish.

The evening recital was at Cleveland’s First United Methodist Church, which was founded in 1839. The present 1300-seat building, of Indiana limestone, was completed in March 1905. The exterior is English Gothic, with a huge lantern tower over the crossing. The interior, however, is a delightful surprise. It appears Byzantine in color and design, with elaborate stenciling. The vast space under the lantern tower floats over the altar area behind which the organ rises. The Geo. H. Ryder organ, built for an earlier church, was brought to the new location by the Votteler-Hettche Organ Co. of Cleveland. W. B. McAllister Co. of Cleveland created the truly remarkable golden organ screen, which wraps around the back of the chancel, measuring 40′ by 60′. The pipe flats are separated by four life-sized reproductions of Fra Angelico’s angels from his Linaiuoli Triptych. The present organ uses that case. It is a Casavant, built in 1943, with numerous subsequent additions; a 4-manual console from 1998 by the Kegg Pipe Organ Company features terraced jambs and is movable.
Our recitalist for the evening was Nathan Laube, who, we learned from Michael Barone, was celebrating his 21st birthday that night; we sang “Happy Birthday” to him! He had just graduated from Curtis. He began his recital with a joyous and almost giddy performance of his own transcription of the Overture to Die Fledermaus by Johann Strauss, Jr. His sense of color, touch, contrast, tempo, and dynamics is of the highest order. Next, he played Karg-Elert’s Symphonischer Choral: ‘Jesu, meine Freude’, op. 87, no. 2. In the first movement, Introduzione (Inferno), the full-length 32′ Contra Bombarde was most effective. The second movement, Canzone, had a beautiful solo from the Oboe; the strings are especially lovely. The final movement, Fuga con choral, woke the instrument from its peaceful slumber. The first half ended with the singing of the hymn Jesu, meine Freude.
The second half began with movement four (Variations on ‘Puer Nobis’) from Widor’s Symphonie Gothique, op. 70. We heard a blizzard of notes in the manuals, with the full pedal thundering forth the mighty tune. Laube ended with the 94th Psalm by Reubke. Now it should be said that this entire recital was played from memory. He had some difficulty with the combination action and had to stop to reset some things, but he managed to get back on track completely unruffled. For an encore, he played Andante sostenuto from Widor’s Symphonie Gothique, op. 70.

Thursday, 9 July 2009
The day began with a panel discussion and virtual organ crawl through the Cleveland Public Auditorium organ, built by Ernest M. Skinner. Our panelists and presenters were Joseph Dzeda and Nicholas Thompson-Allen. It was a fascinating talk, with photos showing the building in its various uses over the years, as well as the virtual organ tour. They touched on preservation of the organ, concern for its relocation, and, as the Atlas said, “practical issues surrounding instruments in public venues.”
Our first recital of the morning took place at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, built in 1917, in Elyria. A stone church on a leafy corner with a well-proportioned steeple, it has a 3-manual, 32-stop Skinner organ, Opus 398 (1923), in a chamber to the right of the altar. Anne Wilson began with the hymn “Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee” (Ode to Joy). Her introduction used elements from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony—nicely done. Then, a Sortie by Lefébure-Wély (1817–1869), written at a time when French organ music for the church resembled that of the music hall or even a circus. This was no exception—great fun with plenty of reeds and foundations making splendid oom-pahs. Next was Brahms’s setting of Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, using the 4′ flute. Wilson then played The Musical Snuffbox by Anatol Liadov (1885–1914), which demonstrated the Celesta (Harp). Next Vierne’s Impromptu, from Pièces de Fantaisie, op. 54, no. 2, which she tossed off with great ease—I liked her use of the Clarabella and the fine Vox Humana. Wilson continued with Lemare’s Irish Air from County Derry, which featured the strings and harp. She ended with a cracking good performance of Rossini’s Overture to William Tell. Great fun, and a fine demonstration recital.
The next stop in Elyria was kitty-corner from St. Andrew’s: St. Mary Catholic Church, an 1886 red brick building with a charming Victorian Gothic portico. Stepping inside, however, revealed a church stripped of all decoration; it was as if it had been sacked. But it still had its 1865 William A. Johnson organ, rebuilt and enlarged by Philipp Wirsching ca. 1900, and later by Homer Blanchard. In 1987 James Leek gave the organ a new Trumpet, replacing one that had disappeared. Originally one manual and pedal, the organ now has two manuals, pedal, and 12 stops.
Yun Kyong Kim, making her second OHS appearance, began with Prélude (from Trois Pièces, op. 29, no. 1) by Gabriel Pierné. The hymn came from The Hymnal 1940 (Episcopal): “I heard the voice of Jesus say” (Vox dilecti)—a fine choice for this place and organ; I liked the Great Trumpet. Next, she played a partita on Ach wie nichtig, ach wie flüchtig by Georg Böhm that gave a fine survey of the stops. The last variation used the Principal chorus and the Trumpet to good effect. Her next piece was Dudley Buck’s Home, Sweet Home, op. 30 (1868), dedicated to “his friend W. H. Johnson,” the original builder of this organ—great choice! One of the things I admire so much about OHS recitals is the pleasure we take in music of this sort played straightforwardly—no winking. The dignity of the instruments and composers is preserved, and we are transported back in time, to another aesthetic—like hearing Bach on a Silbermann. Yun Kyong Kim ended her program with Etude in D Minor from Four Concert Etudes, op. 51, no. 4 (1904) by George Elbridge Whiting. This was a brilliant performance, with wonderful and varied colors from this 12-stop organ.
After a box lunch, buses took us to Wellington to hear the 1916 2-manual, 13-stop J. W. Steere organ, Opus 417, in the First Congregational Church UCC—OHS charter member Randall Wagner’s home church. The organ sits in a niche to the right of the altar in this octagonal Gothic structure. The interior is crowned with a lantern tower at the peak—a Tiffany-like dome. The manuals and stop action are mechanical, while the pedal is tubular-pneumatic.
Recitalist Grant Edwards began with John Stanley’s Voluntary in G Major, op. 7, no. 9, which worked quite well on this organ. I liked the Oboe, the only reed on the organ, which functioned well as a solo voice and a chorus reed. We heard it as a solo in the next piece, Denis Bédard’s Récit (Suite du premier ton). The slow movement from Mendelssohn’s Third Sonata was next. John and James Leek had restored the hand-pumping mechanism in 1983, and the present organist at the church hand-pumped the organ for this piece. Edwards played a Fughetta on “Austria,” after which we sang that tune to the hymn “God whose giving knows no ending,” then, Brahms’s Schmücke dich, O liebe Seele on a very beautiful flute. Arthur Foote’s Canzonetta, op. 71, no. 4 was next—a captivating piece. The last work was Noël Goemanne’s Partita on “Simple Gifts”—fine playing, and an all-around good demonstration of a beautiful organ.
This beautiful, sunny afternoon, we went to the attractive city of Oberlin, its downtown festooned with large hanging baskets of flowers—right to a church on the green at Oberlin College: the First Church in Oberlin UCC, established in 1834. The red brick building would look right at home in New England. The interior is like a New England meetinghouse, with horseshoe balcony and clear glass rectangular windows. The choir area and organ rise above the altar and pulpit. The organ reposes today in a neo-classical case retained from an Estey organ built for the church in 1908. A Skinner organ from Second Congregational Church replaced the Estey when the two churches merged in the 1920s. The Gober organ company from Elora, Ontario, and now of Oberlin, built the present organ, retaining the white Estey case and seven ranks from the Skinner. It is a large 2-manual and pedal organ of 40 stops and 47 ranks, mechanical key action and electric stop action, with solid-state combination action. Halbert Gober is curator of organs (and there are a lot of them!) at Oberlin College.
The performer was Jack Mitchener, appointed in 2008 as associate professor of organ at Oberlin. Dr. Mitchener opened with Frank Bridge’s marvelous Three Pieces, the Adagio of which has become quite a favorite. We admired the solo flutes and the Clarinet. The fascinating fugue subject is soft at first, but builds to a rolling boil complete with 32′ Contrabourdon; he brought it down gently at the end. The third movement, Allegro con spirito, was indeed fast and spirited, and the playing was well paced and articulated. The organ has a few rough edges, but the overall sound is rich in tone and powerful. Since it is right on campus, it is used regularly as a teaching and practice instrument. Saint-Saëns’ Fantaisie in D-flat Major, op. 101 came next, and was played very well. Spring Song by Harry Rowe Shelley (1858–1947) was an engaging romp—a bonbon. The hymn was “All my hope on God is founded,” with its awe-inspiring tune Michael by Herbert Howells. Mitchener’s final work was Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, op 65. His playing possesses great power and solidity. This was a very impressive performance in every way.
The convention group was divided in half, with some taking a self-guided tour of the Julas Organ Center, featuring Oberlin’s 14 practice organs by builders including Holtkamp, Noack, and Flentrop, then attending another fine recital by Dr. Mitchener in the beautiful Fairchild Chapel designed by New York architect Cass Gilbert (Woolworth Building, George Washington Bridge) and completed in 1931. Seating just 200, it was a perfect place to hear the beautiful 2-manual and pedal organ by John Brombaugh (Opus 25), from 1981, one of the earliest examples of a modern instrument tuned in quarter-comma meantone. This gothic chapel also contains a small 1957 Flentrop (one manual with pedal pulldowns). Mitchener played a varied program—Bach: Komm, Gott, Schöpfer, heiliger Geist, BWV 667; Andrea Antico: Chi non crede; Giovanni Paolo Cima: Canzon quarta, La Pace; William Byrd: The Carmans Whistle; and Buxtehude: Praeludium in C Major, BuxWV 137. All of this sounded marvelous on this unique instrument—a revelation.
After dinner under a white tent in a park, we headed to Oberlin’s Finney Chapel, a sort of Spanish Romanesque structure, for the evening recital by Diane Meredith Belcher on the C. B. Fisk organ, Opus 116, from 2001. The 3-manual organ has 57 registers, built in the French Romantic style, taking its inspiration from the instruments of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll. The Pedal has three 32′ stops. The tone is robust and colorful. It sits in a dark walnut-colored case on a balcony above the back of the stage.
Belcher began with Three Preludes and Fugues, op. 37 by Mendelssohn. In the C-minor, she attacked the music with a confident stride. I found the room to be resonant, but not reverberant—a pity. All that money spent on this classy organ, and the room is relatively dead. The G-major began with what I assumed to be the Flûte harmonique, which sang out into the room with a rich, noble sound. The fugue grew out of 8′ 4′ 2′ principal sounds, which sparkled well and were nicely colored with the addition of a reed. The D-minor used mixtures for the first time. We also heard 16′ manual tone and the 32′ Bourdon in the Pedal. Quieter sounds on the Récit grew to a ff as the piece wound itself around. Her performance was fantastic. The full power of the pedal came out in the fugue.
Next came another visit to Lefébure-Wély land, with his Élévation ou communion en la mineur, followed by Pifferari (a piffaro is a type of Italian bagpipe). Belcher used the Fisk organ’s Effet d’Orage stop, which creates the sound of thunder by sounding about seven pedal keys at once, as a drone went on the left hand while the right hand had dialogue between trumpets and flutes. Quite a piece! Then, Guilmant’s Prière en fa majeur, op. 16, no. 2, which was a nice airing of the Vox Humana. The first half ended with Gigout’s Pièce jubilaire, which begins quietly and builds to full organ. The full organ was thrilling. After the intermission, Michael Barone, a graduate of Oberlin, read a list of his classmates there in the late 1960s. It read like a who’s who of renowned American organists, teachers, and, of course, one very famous radio personality!
The second half of the program comprised a single work: Maurice Duruflé’s Suite, op. 5. The expression “hair-raising” cannot be overused here. The Prelude was full of thunder in the bass, with the flash of manual reeds and mixtures. The Sicilienne featured a solo on the Récit’s Basson-hautbois, followed by the beautiful strings accompanying the Flûte Harmonique—things of loveliness. The Toccata was played with an incredible fury. Pure joy and elation radiated forth from Belcher and this fantastic instrument.

Friday, 10 July 2009
Our first concert of the day was at Temple Tifereth Israel, a most impressive landmark on University Circle. The architecture was described in our atlas as “Romanesque and Byzantine.” Dedicated in 1924, it features a vast dome rising 85 feet over the sanctuary, which seats 1,227 on the main floor and another 659 in the mezzanine. The original organ was a Kimball with four manuals and a horseshoe console. The console was rebuilt by Ruhland Organs of Cleveland in 1967, and is now a Holtkamp-style 3-manual with stop keys. They retained much of the Kimball pipework, including diaphones and tibias. The organ is in the front of the building in chambers to the left and right of the choir gallery.
Justin Hartz played a wonderful recital of period pieces on this unusual instrument. He began with A Song of the Sea by English composer H. Alexander Matthews (1879–1973), which featured the Diaphone. Next was Caressing Butterfly by Richard Barthélemy (1869–1937) in a transcription by Firmin Swinnen. This was a tour of the grand old organ’s solo stops—there were many enchanting Kimball sounds.
Then we heard three pieces in theatre organ style: Forgotten Melody by Gus Kahn and Jesse Crawford, arranged by Rosa Rio who just turned 107; Hartz’s transcription of The Whistler and His Dog by Arthur Pryor; and Trees by Otto Rasbach, based on the poem by Joyce Kilmer. The hymn was “May He who kept us” by James H. Rogers. Hartz ended his concert with a good reading of Franck’s Pièce héroïque.

We then drove to the tony and very beautiful neighborhood of Cleveland Heights for a recital at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, a large English Gothic structure of Indiana limestone. The 1951 building was designed by J. Beyers Hays of Walker & Weeks, Cleveland. Our Atlas states that the same firm also designed the Public Auditorium in 1922 and Severance Hall in 1930. Karel Paukert is the organist at St. Paul’s and presides over three pipe organs, the most famous being the large organ by Walter Holtkamp built in 1952. It rises behind the altar screen, and has three manuals and pedal, with 44 stops. John Ferguson wrote in the atlas: “St. Paul’s Episcopal organ can be taken as a good example of the mature style of Walter Holtkamp. It was his favorite instrument. Many consider it to be his masterpiece.” But we’ll come to this organ later.
David Schrader began his program on the smallest of the three organs in this church: a one-manual portative organ from 2002 by Czech builder Vladimir Slajch. It stood in the side aisle to our right. Its bright red case with blue and gold trim really made a statement in this mostly white room. Schrader stood as he played some pieces from Frescobaldi’s Fiori Musicali (1635). In the Bergamasca, the gentle flute, Copula, filled the large room easily. He then made his way to the rear balcony, where a second organ awaited him: a 2-manual and pedal, 21-stop Hradetzky from 1986. The pipes are mounted on the railing, and the console is behind the case. The organ is in 17th-century Northern Italian style. It can be hand pumped, and has all manner of toys: drums, bells and whistles. The Toccata per l’Elevazione used the organ’s Voce umana. That was followed by the Ricercar cromatico dopo il credo. Then the fun began with the toy counter as he moved from Frescobaldi to Claude-Benigne Balbastre’s Variations on the Marseillaise and Ça Ira—it was a hoot from start to finish.
Schrader then moved to the Holtkamp behind the altar. The hymn we sang was not well chosen for our group or for the instrument: “God of our fathers, whose almighty hand” (National Hymn). We sing with great gusto, and with this hymn you need powerful solo reeds for the fanfares. The fanfares were written in our music, but he chose not to play them. So that was confusing right from the start. He also played it in a lower key, C major, I think. Then, between the third and fourth verses he played an extended interlude that seemed to wander through the circle of fifths for so long, as he modulated upward, that we were left uncertain as to when we should enter for the last verse. When he played a quasi-fanfare, half of us began to sing, and half waited for two measures. It was quite a rubble. The last piece was Trois Danses by Jehan Alain. I love this work and had been looking forward to it. The organ seemed well suited for it, but Schrader seemed to lose his way. The music lacked an inner pulse, which holds the musical line together.
We then went to the huge Church of the Covenant, another grand English Gothic building made of Indiana limestone. It features a large tower over the crossing containing a 47-bell carillon of Dutch bells. The first thing we did was gather in the church to sing the hymn “All Creatures of Our God and King” (Lasst uns erfreuen), with Jonathan Moyer playing the 5-manual Aeolian-Skinner rebuild of a Skinner organ. The pipes of this organ are placed all over the room, so the effect is rather overwhelming. He played it well and gave us a good demonstration of the instrument. We then ate a box lunch on the beautiful grounds as we listened to carillonneur John Gouwens, who played with fine shading and color music from many periods including an improvisation on a submitted theme.

We then walked over to the beautiful Cleveland Museum of Art. Unfortunately, the large Holtkamp organ was in storage due to renovations in the auditorium. But we did get to hear the Holtkamp Art Deco Portativ from 1935 in a recital by organist Gregory Crowell and soprano Kathryn Stieler. The organ’s case, designed by architect Richard Rychtarik, looks like something that stepped out of a 1930s Fred Astaire movie. The organ marked a return to tracker action in American organ building—a thing that would not be seen again until the 1960s. The recital was held in a reverberant gallery. Dr. Crowell began with Partite sopra La Romanesca by Michelangelo Rossi (1601–1656). Ms. Stieler began with Amarilli, mia bella by Caccini. Her even tone was rich and pure, filling the gallery with sound. Giovanni Legrenzi’s Che fiero costume was next, sung with great fire and freedom. Crowell’s accompaniment was superb.
Then we heard two movements from OHS member David Dahl’s An Italian Suite. Dahl’s writing is quite fine, and Crowell played this music very well, beginning with Pavana and ending with Gagliarda. Ms. Stieler returned for two more songs: the gracious Intorno all’idol mio by Antonio Cesti, followed by the well-known and joyous Già il sole dal Gange by Alessandro Scarlatti. It was an elegant program beautifully performed by two gifted musicians.
We returned to the Marriott to have dinner and get ready for the evening concert, the closing event of what had been a truly great convention. A record 530 registrants took part, even in the difficult economy we were having. The convention sold itself, with stunning photos on display at last summer’s convention in Seattle, in a gorgeous calendar we all received before Christmas, and, of course in the brilliant convention issue of The Tracker magazine, with more photos and tantalizing prose.
And now we found ourselves entering the grand and famous home of the Cleveland Orchestra: Severance Hall in the beautiful University Circle neighborhood. The classical exterior of the 1931 building includes organ pipes in the pediment above the main entry. The interior is pure Art Deco splendor. The big 4-manual Skinner organ from 1931, Opus 816, with 86 stops and 94 ranks, was originally in chambers 41 feet above the stage, speaking downward. Eventually it fell into disuse, and was walled up, thus preserving it. The hall was renovated in 2000, and the organ was moved to new chambers at the back of the stage. Jack M. Bethards was the consultant, and the Schantz organ company renovated the instrument, giving it modern solenoid drawknobs and a multi-level combination action. A façade of 43 non-speaking pipes graces the organ’s front. The console, painted a deep blue, with ivory and walnut colored Art Deco trim, was front and center on the stage.
The recitalist was Thomas Murray, university organist and professor of music at Yale University. He opened with Toccata in F Major, BWV 540, by J. S. Bach, slowly allowing the organ’s sound to grow and blossom. His flawless sense of rhythmic pulse and immaculate technique propelled every phrase. He made the most of those marvelous deceptive cadences. The powerful 32′ reeds came on at the end, leaving us breathless. We had all fallen in love with this organ, and the concert could have ended right there. But we were grateful that there would be more.
Next came Hindemith’s Sonata I (1937), written six years after this organ’s debut. Murray made the most out of this organ’s many fine solo voices. His approach was more orchestral, more dynamic than the usual. The Sehr langsam, for example, began with a plaintive cry from the Choir organ’s Contra Fagotto 16′ played one octave higher. Some of the softer foundation stops were heard, then the Orchestral Oboe—beautiful
E. M. Skinner sounds. Phantasie, frei featured good contrasting sounds. It ends, of course, with Ruhig bewegt, softly reminding us of the first movement. Murray’s pace and choice of color were perfect. The ppp ending on the Choir strings was deeply moving.
Regina Pacis from Guy Weitz’s (1883–1970) Symphony I on Gregorian Themes (1932), a good period piece for this organ, contained the Gregorian Ave Maria. I loved the soft 16′ pedal stops, Dulciana and Gamba, speaking with precision and presence. It grew to a loud dynamic. Instead of a sacred hymn, we sang a hymn to music: Schubert’s An die Musik, a practice they have at Yale graduations. It was a fine touch. For a brief moment we were all Yalies!
After intermission, Murray played Mouvement by Jean Berveiller (1904–1976). Only a few minutes in length, it packs a lot of music with a truly riotous pedal part. He concluded with Calvin Hampton’s transcription of Franck’s Symphony in D Minor. It sounded wonderful in this room, which has just enough reverberation to make the detached chords ring. Murray’s legendary console technique and registration skill were on full display. One also had the sense that this instrument clearly inspired him. The strings and soft reeds are to die for. The Oboe, English Horn, French Horn, and so forth are the stuff of genius. Thank God we still have this instrument’s voices intact as Skinner left them. This symphony, written for orchestra, makes a great organ piece; the transcription was excellent. Thomas Murray played it magnificently. His playing on this glorious and historic masterpiece of an organ—brought back from near extinction—is what the Organ Historical Society is all about. We were all deeply moved by that realization.
My hat is off to the planners of this convention. It ran like a clock. Endlessly fascinating instruments and venues kept us constantly entertained. The hotel was terrific, as was the food. The performers outdid themselves. The Atlas is a great document: kudos to Rollin Smith, Jonathan Ambrosino, Stephen Pinel, Stephen Schnurr, Scot Huntington, and Joseph McCabe for an outstanding job. The photography of William Van Pelt, Victor Hoyt, and Len Levasseur will provide inspiration for years to come. Next summer is Pittsburgh (information: <www.organsociety.org&gt;). I can’t wait! 

Photo credit: William T. Van Pelt, III

Seattle, Tacoma, Olympia, July 13–18, 2008

Frank Rippl is a graduate of Lawrence University Conservatory of Music, where he studied with Miriam Clapp Duncan and Wolfgang Rübsam. He is co-founder of the Appleton Boychoir, coordinator of the Lunchtime Organ Recital Series in the Appleton, Wisconsin area, and has been organist/choirmaster at All Saints’ Episcopal Church in Appleton since 1971.

On the day before I was to leave for the Organ Historical Society’s 53rd National Convention, I was eating a sandwich and reading the paper. I never read my horoscope, but for some reason I happened to glance at mine (Cancer) and was startled to read: “You’re being taken to beautiful places where there is great attention to detail and where you are enveloped in someone else’s grand vision. Sit back and enjoy the unfolding spectacle.” That got my attention. I had been to Seattle many times before and knew many of the instruments we were to hear, but OHS conventions always put a different spin on things and shine a spotlight on the instruments themselves. I couldn’t wait to experience “someone else’s grand vision” of those instruments and the buildings in which they stand, and, of course, the many outstanding players and builders in the Pacific Northwest. It is, as our handbook stated: “A Young Yet Vibrant History.” Each registrant had received the OHS Seattle 2008 Organ Atlas in the mail before we left on our respective journeys to the West Coast: 174 lavishly illustrated and painstakingly researched pages on the venues and instruments we would visit. The team that put this colorful document together is to be congratulated. So, thus armed, we were ready and eager to get started.

Sunday, July 13
We began with some pre-convention activities on Sunday night. The weather was perfect: a clear sky and temperatures in the low 70s as our buses climbed through the Capitol Hill neighborhood to St. Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral overlooking Puget Sound. St. Mark’s was to have been a grand Gothic structure, but the stock market crash of the late 1920s brought those dreams to a halt. They were left with what is now lovingly called “The Holy Box.” But it is still grand in its own way and with great acoustics.
Once inside, convention chair David Dahl welcomed us, calling it “a gathering of the family.” There were 310 of us greeting old friends and meeting new ones from all over the world with a common interest: love of the organ.

We came this night, of course, to hear the landmark 4-m 1965 Flentrop organ, with its spectacular and breathtaking 32′ copper façade, in a concert by Thomas Joyce, the assistant organist at St. Mark’s, followed by Compline. Joyce played Pictures at an Exhibition by Modest Mussorgsky (1870–1937) as transcribed by Keith Johns. He managed to make this very romantic score work quite well on this beautiful mid-20th century organ with all its neo-baroque accents. My favorite was “Bydlo,” the ever-nearing ox cart thundering past us with its great weight, and then disappearing over the hill; the snarling reeds were very effective. The humor in “The Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks” was most engaging. The organ sparkled as tiny beaks struggled to break through their encasing shells. The majesty of “The Great Gate of Kiev” brought the piece to an end. The sweeping acoustics of this great church and the underpinning of the mighty and blazing reeds and the 32′ stops lifted us from from our pews. It was a brilliant performance.
There was a 40-minute intermission of sorts between concert and Compline. Halfway through this interval, David Dahl invited us to enter into a spirit of silence prior to the beautiful and famous Compline service, sung each Sunday evening since 1955 at St. Mark’s by a volunteer choir of about fifteen men. It usually attracts anywhere from 500–1000 young people who stretch out on the floor or the pews, some bringing bedrolls. They absorb the simple beauty of the chants and the readings. It is broadcast live over KING-FM radio, and can be heard worldwide via the Internet.
We became silent as the hundreds of young people joined us. The sun set, the lights dimmed, candles were lit. There were no “praise” bands, no guitars, no drums. The choir entered wearing black cassocks and long white surplices. They stood in the back of the church in a corner. They were led by Peter Hallock, Canon Precentor Emeritus, who founded the choir and is composer of much of the music they sing. The chanting was elegant and refined but never precious. The tuning in the homophonic sections was perfect. The beautiful anthem was Canon Hallock’s If We Could Shut the Gate, scored for male voices, violin, and organ. It was a tranquil and quietly spiritual end to the first day.

Monday, July 14
Our hotel was the Holiday Inn at the airport, standing in a cluster of airport hotels, including one called “The Clarion Hotel.” My room had a great view of Mount Rainier rising majestically over the “Clarion.” We had a great rate of $82.00 per night, which included a lavish breakfast. Trouble was, we always had an 8:00 a.m. departure. So, if we wished to dine in what was a rather small dining area, we had to be down there by 6:00!

Monday morning took us into downtown Seattle to Benaroya Concert Hall to hear Carole Terry demonstrate the large 3-m concert hall organ by C. B. Fisk. The simple façade of this organ includes some of the open wood pipes of the 32′ Prestant. I’m not normally a big fan of wooden façade pipes, but these blended well with the browns and tans of the Benaroya complex; also in the 32′ department: Untersatz 32′, Tuba Profunda 32′, and Grosse Quinte 102⁄3′. The room is notorious for its poor bass response and generally dry acoustic, so all that 32′ tone proved to be necessary to fill out the bottom of the range.
David Dahl introduced Ms. Terry as “Seattle’s First Lady of the Organ.” She began her program with Dahl’s fine Fanfare Introduction: The National Anthem, which we then sang. She continued with three chorale preludes by Bach, putting various solo voices on display: the reeds, the cornet, and the flutes. Next was William Bolcom’s Sweet Hour of Prayer, in which we heard the Fisk’s strings and foundation stops. Then three pieces from François Couperin’s Messe pour les Convents: Plein Jeu, Premier Couplet du Gloria; Duo sur les Tierces, Troisième Couplet; and Chromorne sur la Taille, Cinquième Couplet, which showed that this versatile organ can speak French quite well. Sowerby’s beautiful Air with Variations showed off the Swell strings, the Solo Clarinet, and later the Flauto Mirabilis. These were full-throated and wonderful pipes! Carole Terry’s last piece was the opening Allegro Vivace from Widor’s Symphonie No. 5. This heavily land-mined piece caused her to stumble slightly a few times, but she managed to bring it off. Her melodic lines were nicely delineated. She chose her literature and registrations well. None of us could come away from this recital complaining that we didn’t hear a fine demonstration of this important instrument—part of a new generation of American concert hall organs.

We then crossed Lake Washington on the Pontoon Bridge and climbed quite high above Puget Sound through well-manicured properties to Holy Rosary Catholic Church in Edmonds, Washington, to hear the church’s 1887 Geo. Kilgen & Son organ, the only surviving 3-m Kilgen tracker. Christopher Marks, assistant professor of organ at the University of Nebraska, was our soloist. Holy Rosary is a modern church built in the round, with the organ standing to the right of the altar. The organ came from the First Baptist Church in Los Angeles, and was relocated to Holy Rosary in 1980 via the Organ Clearing House.
Marks opened with a toccata from Première Suite pour Grand-Orgue (1900) by Felix Borowski (1872–1956, a son of Polish immigrants), which began on the Swell with shades closed, and built to a fortissimo. Another piece by Borowski followed: Allegretto-Allegro leggiero from his Third Sonata (1924), which demonstrated some of the soft sounds of this lovely organ. Two andantes by American-trained organist George F. Bristow (1829–1898) from his Six Pieces for the Organ (1883) were followed by a hymn by Thomas Hastings: “Hail to the Brightness of Zion’s Glad Morning” to the tune Wesley by Lowell Mason. He closed with four selections from Seth Bingham’s Seven Preludes or Postludes on Lowell Mason Hymns (1945), which sounded just dandy on this organ. He played Nos. 1, 2, 4, & 5; the first was based on the hymn we had just sung. I especially liked #4: “Watchman, Tell Us of the Night.” He used the reeds to great effect. I recommend these pieces! Marks, a fine player, gave us a great OHS recital with well-chosen literature to demonstrate the many lovely sounds of this organ.
Our fleet of buses took us to the attractive Trinity Lutheran Church in Lynnwood, Washington, where we were served a tasty box lunch. At 1:00, the tireless convention chairman David Dahl gave a fascinating address: “Tracker Organbuilding in the Pacific Northwest.” He traced the arrival of American tracker organs from the East Coast in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In the mid-20th century, European tracker organs were brought in. The famous Flentrop at St. Mark’s Cathedral in Seattle is a good example. There were others, too: St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Medina has a Metzler from 1971. But late in the 20th century, the Pacific Northwest began to get its own voice from builders such as John Brombaugh, Paul Fritts, and Martin Pasi.

We would hear many fine instruments by these gentlemen and others. In fact, one of them stood to Dahl’s right: Martin Pasi’s beautiful Opus 4 from 1995. This 2-m, 30-stop, mechanical action organ is in a freestanding black walnut case, with eight Italianate arches serving to frame the façade pipes. It was demonstrated by Julia Brown, who was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and received her graduate-level training in organ at Northwestern University studying with Wolfgang Rübsam. She opened with a jolly Noël by Jean-Francois Dandrieu, then two fantasias by Louis Couperin. A charming chorale prelude by Scheidemann was then played on the clear 4′ flutes. Next was a beautiful chorale prelude on Wie schön leuchet der Morgenstern by Niels Gade (1817–1890), leading into the hymn by the same name, which she and the organ led with great ease and grace. Another Noël followed, this one by José Jesus Estrada (1817–1890): Noel en estilo frances del siglo XVIII, which demonstrated more of this wonderful organ’s stops including the Zimbelstern. Brown closed her recital with Buxtehude’s Praeludium in F, BuxWV, in which we heard the fine influence of Professor Rübsam. This was another outstanding recital.
Our buses took us back on the road for a visit to Blessed Sacrament Church in Seattle. The huge building, with gorgeous gardens and a school across the street, loomed large in the neighborhood. The organ stood in the left transept. It came from St. Dominic’s Roman Catholic Church in San Francisco, and was installed in Blessed Sacrament in 2005. The organ began life as an instrument by Henry Erben for a church in Nyack, New York, and was rebuilt by Francis J. N. Tallman (1860–1950), who essentially made it a new instrument. It was rebuilt again in 1914 by Michael A. Clark, and then moved to San Francisco. St. Dominic’s decided after remodeling that the organ no longer met their needs, so it ended up at Blessed Sacrament.
We had arrived early, so Scott Huntington gave us an impromptu introduction to the history of this fascinating instrument as only he can. That, plus the first-rate account of this organ written in the convention atlas by Stephen Pinel, provided us with unusually thorough preparation for the concert.
Our performer was OHS favorite George Bozeman. He began his demonstration of this 2-m, 15-stop organ with
C. P. E. Bach’s Sonate in G Minor, Wq 70/6, perfectly suited to this fine organ. The hymn was “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling” (tune Beecher). He then played his own transcription of Four Sketches, op. 15, by Amy Beach (1867–1944), quite intoxicating and evocative: “In Autumn,” “Phantoms,” “Dreaming,” and “Fire-flies.” George, if you haven’t published these pieces, please do! The music and your performance were both great!

Our next stop was a happy return to St. Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral back on Capitol Hill. We had time to peruse the fine cathedral shop, where we were given a 10% discount. We also had a cocktail party with delicious snacks on the cathedral grounds, followed by a fine Bastille Day French meal in Bloedel Hall. We took turns entering the beautiful Thomsen Chapel, the only part of the cathedral that was finished in Gothic style (one can only imagine what the whole building would have looked like had it been finished), which now contains a jewel of an organ by Paul Fritts & Co., Opus 22, 2003. This 2-m and pedal, 18-stop organ sits in the west balcony and fills the room with its beauty. Thomas Joyce, assistant organist at the cathedral, played brief demonstrations for us. He is a charming young man with a great future.
But the major event of the evening was in the cathedral itself: a brilliant concert by J. Melvin Butler (who, I’m told, is also a superb violist!), canon organist and choirmaster of St. Mark’s. He opened with a dazzling performance of Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 535. Mel Butler’s talented fingers and toes and the marvelous clarity of the Flentrop organ made the music sing. Two selections from Bach’s Leipzig Chorales followed: Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland, BWV 661, in which we heard the solo line on a small cornet with a gentle tremolo; and O Lamm Gottes unschuldig, BWV 656. In the middle section, the upperwork glimmered like light glancing off faceted gemstones. The majestic finale (with the cantus firmus in the pedal) was pure muscularity. The first half of the program ended with Buxtehude’s chorale fantasia on Nun freut euch, lieben Christen g’mein, BuxWV 210. It was first-rate playing by one of Seattle’s best organists on an organ that never fails to thrill.
The second half began with Fanfare for Organ by Richard Proulx, which ran a good circuit through the many trumpet stops, vertical and horizontal. It was followed by In Quiet Joy from a composer new to me: Mark Winges, b. 1951. Lovely flutes and deep-water pedal 16′ stops supported the occasional soft solo reed, then turned to quiet strings briefly, and went on as before. The strings returned supporting a solo flute. It is an exquisite piece. The hymn “When in our music God is glorified,” sung to the tune Kaytlyn by Joseph Downing (1982), was followed by Canon Butler’s Fantasy on “Kaytlyn,” a fine piece with moments of quiet and introspection, ending gently with two rings from a chime.
Butler rounded off his program with two pieces by the great 20th-century American organist and composer Leo Sowerby: Arioso and Toccata. Arioso, with its plaintive call from a quiet reed stop, gave us a sense of serenity tinged with longing. It is a masterpiece, and Butler brought out each poignant nuance. By way of contrast, Sowerby’s fiery Toccata drew the evening and first full day to a rousing and blazing close. Butler’s fleet fingers sent the notes flitting from pillar to pillar in this great “Holy Box.” We cheered!

Tuesday, June 15
Tuesday morning found us high atop our hotel in a circular ballroom with a splendid vista of Mt. Rainier. We had come to hear a loving tribute by Mark Brombaugh to his brother John, a seminal figure in American organ building. The lecture was entitled “Singing Pipes: The Artistic Legacy of Organbuilder John Brombaugh.” Mark explained how John’s early training with Fritz Noack, Charles Fisk and Rudolph von Beckerath influenced him. He then proceeded to trace John Brombaugh’s own ideas of voicing: the vocale style of sound—making pipes sing in a beautiful vocal manner. He went through each of John’s instruments, giving well-thought-out descriptions of each. I was especially interested in his Opus 33, which stands four blocks from my house, on the campus of Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin. It was also fascinating to hear the list of men who had worked with John over the years and who have now gone on to be fine organ builders in their own right. The list reads like a who’s who of American organ building, and includes Fritts, Taylor & Boody, Pasi, Richards & Fowkes. Not bad! It was a most entertaining and informative summing up of a great career.

Our first concert of the day was at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church in Auburn, Washington, by Carol Foster on the church’s E. & G. G. Hook & Hastings organ, Opus 591 from 1871. Its caramel-colored pipes and honey-like case gleamed in the modern, light-filled room. The program began with the presentation of the OHS Historic Organ Citation for the 2-m, 12-stop instrument—the 368th such citation the society has given to instruments of historic interest. The organ’s first home was in Philadelphia, then in Camden, New Jersey. St. Matthew’s acquired it from the Organ Clearing House.
Carol Foster, a woman with a long and distinguished career, is currently parish musician at St. Augustine’s Episcopal Church on Whidbey Island, Washington. Her first piece this day was a charming Andante & Gavotte from a sonata by Thomas Arne. That was followed by Craig Phillips’s (b. 1960) Prelude on “Divinum mysterium.” The room-filling sound of even the flute stops on this little organ let us know that this was indeed a Hook organ.
Next up was the early American tune “Restoration” from Sacred Sounds by George Shearing (b. 1919), in which Foster gave us a good hearing of the foundation stops. That was followed by Song of Happiness (1914), by Roland Diggle: a sweet, sentimental piece that brought many a smile. Then came Theodore Dubois’ Cantilène religieuse. Foster joked about the tremolo, which was a force unto itself. She used the Oboe (the organ’s only reed), but it sounded like there was a flute with the oboe. She ended with an energetic and jolly performance of Jacques Lemmens’s Fanfare. The hymn “Come, We That Love the Lord” (tune Vineyard Haven) closed this fine recital.
We drove to Olympia, paying a brief visit to handsome government buildings, then went downtown to eat lunch in the lobby of the Washington Center for the Performing Arts. After lunch, Andy Crow performed for us on the theater’s mighty Wurlitzer. He has several silent film scores to his credit. We were treated to his accompaniment to the Laurel and Hardy silent film “Double Whoopee,” which was hysterical. His expert accompaniment kept pace with craziness on the screen. He used the organ’s resources very well, and also played a number of classic American songs. It was a fun midday break.
Our next stop was Spanaway Lutheran Church in Spanaway, Washington, and its attractive 1905 Jesse Woodberry & Co. Opus 225 organ. Built in Boston, it was acquired by the Organ Clearing House. Its walnut case and white façade pipes with gold mouths make for a striking appearance, and its two manuals and 18 ranks work very well in this appealing space, standing as it does to the right of the altar. Much of the restoration work was lovingly done by members of the congregation under the leadership of organbuilder Stephen Cook. Carpeting was pulled up and a hardwood floor was installed.
We began with the presentation of the Historic Organ Citation by Stephen Schnurr. The recital was played by Kevin Birch from Bangor, Maine, where he teaches organ and harpsichord at the University of Maine’s School of the Performing Arts. He began with Arthur Foote’s Festival March, op. 29, no. 1 (1893), which demonstrated the foundation stops nicely—a good solid forte. An additional Foote piece followed: Allegretto, op. 29, no. 2 (1893), which walked us through this fine organ’s softer sounds. The Great Flute d’Amour 4′, played one octave lower, was particularly effective. The Swell shades created an incredible pp. The hymn was “Abide with Me” (Eventide). In a masterful bit of accompanying, he never dominated, he led.
The closing piece was Dudley Buck’s Variations on “The Last Rose of Summer.” Among other fine things, we got to hear the gentle Swell strings. I also liked the Swell Violin Diapason in its rich tenor range. I was struck thus far this week by the number of recitals that ended pianissimo. This was one of them. The magic swell shades on this organ really did their job!

We then went to the Chapel of Trinity Lutheran Church in Tacoma (Parkland). A brass trumpet bedecked with blue ribbons was suspended from a wrought iron stand outside the church’s door to greet us. We came to hear the Geo. Kilgen & Son organ from 1890. Now in its fifth home (!), this well-traveled 2-m and 12-stop organ seems quite happy in its present surroundings. Even though its façade pipes are new, it was given a well-deserved OHS Historic Organ Citation. Our recitalists were husband and wife Tim and Cheryl Drewes. This would be a recital of duet and solo literature, and they jumped right in with Horatio Parker’s Quick March (for two organists). It was played with plenty of brio! Next was Humoresque for organ and piano by Widor—that was new to me. If you are in the market for a good piano/organ duet, I can recommend this one.
Tim Drewes then played Sortie (from L’Organiste Moderne) by Louis James Alfred Lefébure-Wély, which sounded like theatre music—spirited with plenty of contrast. Ah, how different early 19th-century Parisian church music was from what it would become! He then led us in the hymn “All my hope on God is founded” to the tune Michael, written by Herbert Howells and dedicated to his young son Michael, who died of polio. I never fail to be moved by this hymn and tune.
Cheryl then played Rooster Rag by Muriel Pollock (1895–1971), a humorous little piece that would make a good encore. Hopping back on the bench, Tim Drewes played a cheerful Bergamasca by Samuel Scheidt, showing this organ’s versatility. Cheryl Drewes then ended this engaging concert with a fine reading of Mendelssohn’s Sonata in D Major (op. 65, no. 5).
Sometimes you can tell a great deal about an organ builder just by visiting his or her shop. The Paul Fritts & Co. organ shop in Tacoma (Parkland) is a thing of great beauty. The wooden building is stained with an almost amber color. The large main door rises twelve feet or so to a curved arch with faceted wooden insets. We were served wine and snacks and got to look at upcoming projects and parts of an early 19th-century case they are restoring. It was all very inspirational.
We then drove a few blocks to the campus of Pacific Lutheran University. Huge old growth Douglas fir trees towered over rich green lawns and beautiful landscaping. We were served a delicious dinner in the University Center: roast pork with lingonberry sauce! God bless those Swedish Lutherans! We then walked through the beautiful campus to Lagerquist Concert Hall. The building’s entrance windows were decorated in glass flower blossoms by the world-renowned Tacoma artist Dale Chihuly. Upon entering the hall, our eyes beheld the jaw-droppingly gorgeous Paul Fritts organ, Opus 18 from 1998, surely one of the most beautiful organs in North America. The high tin content of the façade pipes and the 250 square feet of basswood pipeshades and fanciful figures all done by Jude Fritts, Paul Fritts’s sister, made for a visual feast. The tall, honey-colored case is made of old-growth Douglas fir logs, which came from local forests including Mount Rainier National Park. The hall itself has adjustable acoustics from one to over four seconds of reverberation.
The recitalist was Paul Tegels, university organist at PLU, who opened his recital with a Toccata in G by Scheidemann. He gave it a grand sweeping sound that seemed to invite us into the world of this instrument. Next we heard two selections from the Netherlands of 1599: from the Susanne van Soldt Manuscript, Branle Champagne and Almande Brun Smeedelyn. Then it was on to four versions of the tune Von Gott will ich nicht lassen, the first a four-part harmonization by J. S. Bach, then three fantasies on Une Jeune Fillette by Eustache du Caurroy (1549–1609), which showed some of the reed stops; the next version of the chorale came from Johann Ludwig Krebs’s Clavierübung, showing us the beautiful flute stops; and the last was a Fantaisie sopra “Une Jeune Fillette” by Bert Matter (b. 1936), which had a variety of sounds rhythmic and pulsating. By the end it receded to quiet flutes, which restated the chorale. Tegels closed the first half of his program with the Praeludium in D Minor (originally E minor) by Nicolaus Bruhns. The small arpeggiated figures on the Positive were delicious. When he brought on the 32′s at the end we were transported. Thrilling playing!
After intermission, we sang the hymn “Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones” (Lasst uns erfreuen) with a fine introduction composed by David Dahl. Tegels then treated us to Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in G Major, BWV 541. The boastful, chest-thumping music bounced along with a sense of self satisfaction, the wind system giving us a lovely crescendo on the final chord. Next was a Suite, op. 34, no. 1, by Widor for organ and flute, in which Tegels was joined by flutist Jennifer Rhyne. It was very pretty music that seemed highly agreeable and accessible, although the Scherzo has challenges.
For his final work, Tegels chose Alexandre Guilmant’s Sonata I in D Minor. He invested a great deal of vitality into the Introduction and Allegro, followed by just the right amount of letting up before the da capo. I am so glad that in the last 25 years or so we are hearing Guilmant’s music once again. The wonderful Pastorale, which I like to use during communion or as a prelude, was very nicely played. There are so many fine 8′ sounds on this organ. The Vox Humana buzzed along nicely with the 32′ humming below. Tegels made the Finale burst forth like fireworks, timing it just right to catch us off guard. From start to finish, it was a virtuoso performance by builder, player and architect. We had ended a long day, but our spirits were quite high!

Wednesday July 16
For the most part, this would be “Episcopal Day.” Our first stop on this bright and sunny morning was Seattle’s St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, in the Space Needle area, nestled among several inviting Asian restaurants. The churchyard featured a labyrinth and imaginative landscaping. The organ we were about to hear is quite a remarkable instrument. It hangs by cables from the trusses of this A-frame structure—even the balcony is suspended. Marie-Claire Alain called it “a flying organ.” On paper, the organ, built by Gebr. Späth (Opus 753, 1963, 2-m, 15 stops), seems rather sparse. The only 8′ on the Great is a Koppelfloete. So we were curious to hear how it would do. Walter E. Krueger, from Portland, Oregon, was our performer. He opened with Buxtehude’s Praeludium in D Minor, Bux WV 140, which he played with great flourish. It was immediately clear that this little organ was not afraid to speak up for itself. Next were two of Bach’s Schübler Chorales. Wachet auf used the Great flutes 8′ and 2′, with the Swell Trumpet 8′. The pedal seemed to be Subbass 16′ and the Choralbass 4′. It worked well. Kommst du nun showed off the twinkle in the eye of this neo-baroque organ. Krueger followed that with a gentle reading of Krebs’s Herzlich lieb’ hab ich dich, o Herr, with the ornamented chorale melody on the Swell Cornet with a sweet tremolo. The hymn was “At the Lamb’s High Feast We Sing,” which was sung in alternatim with Pachelbel’s Partita on “Alle Menschen.” It gave us a fine tour of this instrument. Full organ, complete with zimbelstern, was surprisingly hearty. It was a good demonstration recital.
On a very high bridge, we crossed the ship canal that connects Lake Washington with Puget Sound and entered the University District in bright sunshine. We parked in front of our next venue, University Christian Church, a fine structure in English Gothic style. The interior is dark, with a horseshoe balcony. Great swaths of peach and white fabric were hung from the side balconies to the rear balcony to help relieve the darkness. The windows were attractive, and the ceiling was painted in rosettes of deep blue, pale blue, light green and a rich red. This would be our first electro-pneumatic organ: a large Casavant Frères, Ltée., Opus 1302, from 1929, 4-m, 60 stops. It was dedicated by Marcel Dupré on October 29, 1929, and stands in the front of the church, with the pipes in two chambers on either side of the chancel.
Peter Guy, organist and master of the choristers at Christ Church Cathedral, Newcastle, Australia, was our performer. He also serves as director of chapel music at St. Andrew’s College within the University of Sydney. He has concertized all over the world, and had just turned 27 when we heard him—a charming young man with a quick and ready smile. He opened his program with J. S. Bach’s Now Thank We All Our God as arranged by Virgil Fox, which featured the foundation stops and reeds. This is an intact organ—unchanged; it possesses a warm but somewhat brooding sound. Next up was from Bach’s Orgelbüchlein: Christ ist erstanden, BWV 627, which had plenty of energy. Then came a piece by Graham Koehne (b. 1956), “The Morning Star” from his suite To his servant Bach, God grants a final glimpse, which uses the chorale tune “How brightly shines the morning star.” It was written in a Mendelssohnian style, and Guy played it with great sensitivity. I’d like to hear more music by this composer.
Edouard Batiste (1820–1876) provided the next piece, Andante in G “Pilgrim’s Song of Hope”—a character piece of its era, to feature many of the softer sounds of this instrument. Then came a favorite of mine, Rorate Caeli by Jeanne Demessieux, played with great sensitivity. Peter Guy then played Samuel Sebastian Wesley’s Andante in E-flat, which came off quite well on this organ, which is in need of a thorough restoration. The hymn was another favorite of mine, “O Thou Who Camest from Above,” to the tune Hereford by S. S. Wesley. Our tenors had a grand time! He closed with Louis Vierne’s Hymne au soleil, played with lots of grandeur. If I had anything critical to say about this fine recital, it would be that we seemed to hear too much of the same tone quality: rarely a solo reed, for example. I suspect that the condition of the instrument had much to do with that.

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Seattle was next, with a recital on its fine 2-m, 47-rank Bond organ, Opus 23 from 1994. Leslie Martin, organist and director of music at the church, was the performer. The church is an A-frame structure, and the organ stands behind the altar. Its mainly copper façade pipes are surrounded by a wall of panels that have lace-like carvings through which we could glimpse a chapel behind the organ. The church also owns a portative organ by John Brombaugh. It has carved figures on three sides of people playing instruments. Brombaugh himself explained many of the details. It came from a group of six instruments built in 1979 in his Eugene, Oregon shop.
Martin began his program with Toccata Quinta by Frescobaldi, followed by Ricercar Quinto Giovanni, by Paolo Cima (1570–1612). Next, Pange Lingua by Nicolas de Grigny: Plein Jeu en taille à 4, Fugue à 5, in which we heard the powerful Great Cornet V and the Swell Trompette, and finally, Récit du Chant de l’Hymne précédent, giving a good airing of the fine Swell Cornet in the tenor register with tremblant.
Next was Brahms’s O Gott, du frommer Gott, demonstrating the versatility of this organ’s foundation stops. He then played Messiaen’s Apparition de l’Eglise éternelle. I visited Messiaen’s church in Paris, Eglise de la Sainte-Trinité, one year ago. Even though I did not hear the organ, this music was in my head, and I wondered at all the glorious improvisations he must have created in that colorful space. Leslie Martin’s tempo and approach were faster and more robust than I would prefer, but in a room lacking reverberation like this one, it may have been a wise choice. He closed with the Adagio from Widor’s Symphony No. 2 in D Major, op. 13, no. 2. We heard the strings and the Great Harmonic Flute to which was added the Great Montre 8′. It was a good, rich sound! The hymn was “O Day of Peace That Dimly Shines” to Parry’s distinguished tune, Jerusalem. I like a more majestic pace for this tune, but it was good to hear it sung by the great voices of the OHS!
We were served a nice box lunch in the parish hall. On the way to the buses many of us were taking pictures of the beautiful flower gardens around the church and in the neighborhood—blue hydrangeas and giant roses of all colors!

We then crossed the attractive Lake Washington again and climbed up the steep bluff to St. John’s Episcopal Church in Kirkland to hear Derek Nickels, director of music at the Church of the Holy Comforter (Episcopal) in Kenilworth, Illinois. I recalled hearing him at the 2006 convention and was eager to hear him again. He did not disappoint—secure, solid rhythm and sensitive musicianship again were the order of the day. The organ was a 2-m, 17-stop Cole & Woodberry, Opus 225, built in Boston in 1892. The OHS Seattle 2008 Organ Atlas has two articles about this fascinating instrument. Tom Foster tells of its original home in Highland Congregational Church, Westford Street, Lowell, Massachusetts. When the church closed, the organ was put in storage, and St. John’s acquired it in 1974. Glenn White of Olympic Organ Builders, Seattle, installed it in St. John’s, and later on Richard Bond Organ Builders did major work on the action. Stephen Pinel also wrote a fascinating essay for the Atlas on William B. Goodwin, who designed the organ. The façade has three large false wood pipes followed by a row of some 27 pipes in a wide flat. Its appearance is unique! Scott Hamilton described some of the other unique features of this instrument—it really was designed to play transcriptions.
Nickels did just that. He made great use of the organ throughout the program, playing expressively in pieces like Meyerbeer’s “Coronation March” (Le Prophète) in an arrangement by Bryan Hesford, which showed contrasting sounds, and he built up to a wonderful ff. Next was John Knowles Paine’s Andante con Variazioni, op. 17. He began on a single string stop that filled the room nicely. The first variation used what sounded like the Doppelflute 8′ on the Swell—a full, rich sound; 8′ and 4′ flutes were up next. He arched the phrases nicely. The strings repeated the opening theme.
Next were two pieces by Schumann: Sketch in D-flat Major and Canon in B Minor, in which he made the most of the resources of this organ. The jolliness of the D-flat gave way to the jingle bell effect of the B-Minor. He brought his fine program to an end with Mendelssohn’s Fugue in E Minor, giving it a spirited performance. Organ and organist were well matched. He managed the wild ride that is the pedal part of this piece with great élan. His clean playing gave life to the music. A superb performance!

I was keen to get to our next church because I always enjoy Bruce Stevens’s concerts, but also because the church, St. Thomas Episcopal Church, Medina, has a 2-m and pedal, 22-stop Metzler Söhne organ, built in Dietekon, Switzerland in 1971. This would be my first Metzler, and I’m told it is the only Metzler in the United States. I have many recordings of Metzler organs, usually played by Stevens’s teacher, Anton Heiller, so I am familiar with their outstanding quality. The church is a cruciform pattern with transepts, and the altar stands at the crossing beneath a lantern tower. The organ and choir are behind the altar.
Bruce Stevens, a well-known and distinguished figure at OHS conventions, serves as organist at Second Presbyterian Church in downtown Richmond, Virginia. He is also adjunct instructor in organ at the University of Richmond, and leads OHS organ tours of Europe. I truly admire and respect his playing. He began with J. S. Bach’s Canonic Variations on “Vom Himmel hoch, da komm’ ich her,” BWV 769. After three variations, we sang the hymn “From Heaven Above to Earth I Come” (Vom Himmel hoch). The organ led us very well. Stevens then played the final two variations, delineating the parts of the canons with clarity and grace.
There followed yet another canonic piece: Schumann’s Piece in Canonic Form, op. 56, no. 5; again we had a clear idea of where the music was going. He ended with Schumann’s Fugue on the Name of B-A-C-H, op. 60, no. 6. Stevens used this wonderful organ very well, letting us hear its fine colors and refined voicing. The glorious ff finale was spine-tingling!
Our next event was a dinner cruise aboard the elegant “Spirit of Seattle.” The relaxing evening took us on a cruise of the beautiful waters of Puget Sound. The food was bountiful, the conversation was friendly and stimulating, and the scenery was magnificent. The huge skyscrapers of downtown Seattle and the graceful Space Needle slowly began to shrink as the natural landscape took center stage. A full moon appeared as mist clung to the shores of islands and peninsulas, while the Cascade Mountains rose behind. Dominating all was Mount Rainier, gazing down like an Old Testament prophet. We began the cruise in the bright sunshine of the late afternoon, returning to shore at dusk just as the lights of the downtown buildings and the Space Needle were beginning to twinkle magically. It was a perfect evening.

Thursday, July 17
Thursday began at Calvary Lutheran Church in Federal Way, Washington, with a recital by Sharon Porter Shull, minister of music at Agnus Dei Lutheran Church in Gig Harbor, Washington, on the church’s Kenneth Coulter organ, Opus 6, built in Eugene, Oregon. Its two manuals, pedal, and 19 stops stand in the rear balcony. Roger Meers’s essay in the Atlas points out that the church’s low ceiling necessitated a Rückpositive. As the church’s music program expanded, the balcony was enlarged, bringing it forward on each side of the Rückpositive.
Shull opened with the Allegro from Vivaldi’s Concerto del Sigr. Meck (sic) as arranged by Johann Gottfried Walther—a most engaging piece, which she played in a most entertaining way. The organ has very sweet tones that were evident in the next piece, Partita on “Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten” by Georg Böhm, which would be the hymn we would sing at the end of the program. We moved forward to the end of the 19th century for Brahms’s O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, and then heard Bach’s Herr Gott, nun schleuss den Himmel auf, BWV 617. The ornamented chorale tune was played on the organ’s Schalmei 8′, but it did not seem to be alone. She then played a gentle little Trio in C by Krebs, followed by Bach’s Liebster Jesu, wir sind hier, BWV 751, for which she used the Rückpositive Cornet with tremolo. We heard the Trumpet on Bach’s Der Tag, der ist so freudenreich, BWV 605, and she closed with Fuga in C (“The Fanfare”) attributed to Bach. Shull gave it a wonderful sense of momentum and joy—fine playing all around!
Our last stop of the morning was Kilworth Chapel at the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, with its elegant Paul Fritts & Co. organ, Opus 8, from 1989. We had gotten ahead of schedule, however, so they gave us a brief tour of downtown Tacoma’s invitingly attractive area. Dale Chihuly’s glass workshop is there, as well as three grand old theaters that have been mercifully spared the indignities of the wrecking ball.
We soon arrived at the University of Puget Sound’s campus and its New England-style chapel. The Fritts organ stands on the stage. Its case is white with accents of gold leaf and panels of pale green. Elaborate gold pipe shades stand guard above and below the dark façade pipes, heavy with lead. The organ is essentially North German, but the Swell Oboe 8′ is a copy of a Cavaillé-Coll stop. It was the first Fritts organ to have a Swell division, and Paul Fritts is a graduate of this school.
Our recitalist was Paul Thornock, an alumnus currently serving as director of music at St. Joseph’s Cathedral, Columbus, Ohio, where he presides over a large and magnificently red 2006 Fritts organ. His personality and his playing can best be described as ebullient. Thornock opened with Buxtehude’s Praeludium in E Minor, BuxWV 142. This organ has power and a rich tone, and his playing possessed the power and richness to match it. Next, in a partita by Walther on Jesu, meine Freude, we heard a good variety of the tonal features of this fine 2-m, 34-stop organ. The Great Rohrflöte was very pleasing. The Swell 8′ Principal with tremulant accompaniment by that Great Rohrflöte was a truly beautiful effect. Next, the Cantabile from Louis Vierne’s Symphonie No. 2 demonstrated this organ’s romantic possibilities, including its Cavaillé-Coll-style Oboe.
More romantic literature followed: the brilliant Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, op. 59, nos. 5 and 6 by Max Reger. Thornock’s keen sense of proportion and architecture was evident, and he has a huge technique. The hymn was “Lo, He Comes with Clouds Descending” (Helmsley). This was another outstanding recital at this outstanding convention. And we weren’t done yet! For lunch, we were treated to a midsummer cookout on the grounds of the campus beneath the Douglas fir trees that towered over an incredibly lush green lawn.
Our first recital of the afternoon was given by Rodney Gehrke, director of music and liturgy at St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, San Francisco, and at the city’s Temple Emanu-El. He also teaches undergraduate organ at the University of California, Berkeley. He had the good fortune to be assigned the organ by John Brombaugh & Associates, Opus 22, 1979 (2-m, 23 stops) in the modern and strikingly beautiful Christ Church, Episcopal, Tacoma. David Dahl has been organist there for 38 years and told us that while the style is affectionately called “Brutalism” because it is all concrete and heavy wood, the acoustics are great and people can hear each other pray and sing. The organ resounds nicely, too!
The sun had just come out after a cloudy morning, so it was appropriate that we sang as our hymn “Now that the Daylight fills the skies” (Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend). Living as I do just four blocks from John Brombaugh’s Opus 33 (49 ranks) in the chapel at Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin, I heard many familiar sounds in Gehrke’s first selection, Magnificat on the Third Tone by Lebègue. Brombaugh’s vocale voicing of the principals and flutes, and the rich and full-throated reeds were his trademarks on display. The recently added Erzähler 8′ and Celeste 8′ made for a wondrous sound in Langlais’ “Chant de Paix” from Neuf Pièces. Written at the end of WWII, we can only wonder at the relief the French felt in those days. This music takes us there, and Messrs. Gehrke, Langlais and Brombaugh transported us to that eternal song of peace with their gifts of skill, art, and grace.
The Harfenregal 8′ on the Great (a stop also on the LU organ and a favorite of mine) began Hugo Distler’s Variations on “Frisch auf, gut Gsell, laß rummer gahn” from 30 Spielstücke. It was well played and demonstrated many more of the beautiful sounds of this landmark instrument. Gehrke’s
final selection was Bach’s Partita on “Sei gegrüsset, Jesu Gütig.” The chorale, played on the Great 8′ Principal, was a thing of beauty. Each variation revealed more of this truly great organ. The final variation, with full organ, was powerful, intense, and moving.

Our next stop was the First Presbyterian Church, Tacoma, for a recital by Lorenz Maycher. Whenever I see that Maycher is playing for the OHS, I know I’m in for a treat, especially when he is seated at a big romantic organ like this large Reuter, Opus 138 from 1925 (4-m, six divisions, 80 stops, 55 ranks, 121 registers). He led off with the hymn “Over the Chaos” to a tune by Russell Jackson (b. 1962). Next was a piece by Richard Purvis, “Supplication” from Four Poems in Tone. It was inclusive of all manner of supplication from quiet to intense. Then a work by Jaromir Weinberger (1896–1994), The Way to Emmaus (A Solo Cantata for High Voice with Organ) for which he was joined by gifted soprano Anneliese von Goerken, who sang marvelously. Maycher made great use of the instrument’s many gorgeous solo stops. If you have such an organ and a good soprano, you might find this a useful piece.
I was glad to see that Maycher was playing Sowerby. He is a Sowerby expert, as anyone will tell you after listening to his recordings. Today’s offering, ending the program, was Sowerby’s Prelude on “Non Nobis, Domine,” which was played with great expression and strength.
The evening event began with a blissful late afternoon non-scheduled free hour in downtown Seattle, followed by a delicious meal in Hildebrandt Hall of Plymouth Congregational Church. We then made our way upstairs to the oval-shaped church with its white/ivory walls and small stained glass windows to attend Choral Evensong as sung by the Choir of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Seattle, Gary James, choirmaster. Thomas Foster was the conductor, and Craig Phillips was the organist. The Rev. Ralph Carskadden, from St. Mark’s Cathedral, was the officiant. It was a beautiful service. The choir did very well, the music was well chosen and conducted with grace. Craig Phillips played very well on the church’s 3-m Schlicker, with 53 stops and 63 ranks. All the pipes are behind a screen that stands in back of the altar. Phillips wrote quite a bit of the music performed at this service, including a very nice Prelude from Triptych for Organ, and Serenade for Horn and Organ, for which he was ably joined by Maxwell Burdick. Psalm 150 was sung to an Anglican chant by Charles Fisk (Menlo Park)—a nice touch! Phillips also supplied the anthem, Teach Me, My God and King, that I liked quite a lot, and the postlude, Toccata on “Hyfrydol,” which is a terrific piece.

Friday, July 18
The last day of the convention—some really fine events were coming our way, and we were eager to plunge right in. We began at the large St. Alphonsus Roman Catholic Church in Seattle, which has a fantastic organ by Fritts-Richards, Opus 4 from 1985. With 2-m, 33 stops in a fabulous acoustic, and a drop-dead gorgeous case in the rear gallery featuring a Rückpositive, it is a thing to behold. The case is of painted poplar. The carved and gilded pipe shades were made by David Dahl’s late father. This very German organ was built by two young men still in their twenties who had never been to Europe.
Our recitalist was Dana Robinson, who is on the faculty of the School of Music at the University of Illinois. Those of us fortunate enough to have been at the OHS convention in 2006 heard him give the closing recital on the amazing 19th-century organ in the Troy Savings Bank Auditorium, and will not soon forget his brilliant concert that warm night. So we looked forward to hearing him again—this time on a bright cool morning and on another amazing organ. Robinson began his program with Modus ludendi pro organo pleno by Samuel Scheidt. He used the full plenum, which has a surprisingly powerful sound. Next up were two verses of Durch Adams Fall ist ganz verderbt by Heinrich Scheidemann. The first featured the warm Principal and a quiet reed. The second utilized a 4′ flute, beautifully and expressively played. He then went back for more Scheidemann: Es ist das Heil uns kommen her (two verses)—well played and using more of the instrument.
Up next was Buxtehude’s setting of Nun bitten wir den heiligen Geist, BuxWV 209. I believe we heard the Rückpositiv Sesquialtera II playing the ornamented chorale tune against the Great Violdigamba 8′ (sic)—gorgeous, clear sounds. That was also the hymn, which followed immediately. It was quite an experience to sing this hymn with this very North German organ in the resonant space of St. Alphonsus Church. Then came Buxtehude’s Ciacona in E Minor, BuxWV 160. Robinson began with the 8′ Principal and built from there. Organ, organist, literature and room were superb. Finally, we came to Buxtehude’s great setting of Te Deum Laudamus, BuxWV 218. I especially enjoyed the Great Trommet 8′. This organ has big-scaled pedal reeds, which he used well, including a full-length 32′ Posaunen. We were given a most thoughtful demonstration of this instrument by one of America’s finest players.
After a windy ride through the city, we found ourselves in the beautiful “First Hill” neighborhood overlooking downtown Seattle. We arrived at First Baptist Church and its newly acquired 3-m, 35-rank Aeolian-Skinner from 1953, which came from First Methodist Church in Tacoma, and was meticulously restored by Bond Organ Builders. Stephen Schnurr presented the OHS Historic Organ Citation. The organ is in two chambers on either side of the altar and baptistry.
Our recitalist was Douglas Cleveland, who opened his program with Handel’s Concerto in B-flat Major, a piece played on this organ 50 years ago by David Craighead. The middle section featured what I believe was the English Horn, a lovely stop. Next was Virgil Fox’s famous arrangement of Bach’s Come Sweet Death. Cleveland played it with great tenderness and expressivity. The hymn, “O for a Thousand Tongues” to the tune Azmon, was followed by a charming Scherzetto by Joseph Jongen and the lovely Woodland Flute Call by Fannie Dillon (1881–1897), which I believe was soloed on the Great 4′ Flute Harmonique.
Cleveland closed his program with the brilliant and dashing Four Concert Etudes by David Briggs (b. 1964). Following an introduction, it charged into the toccata-like “Octaves.” The next movement, “Chordes Alternées,” featured the Choir flutes alternating chords in various octaves with a melody in the pedal. Then a “Sarabande,” featuring the lush Aeolian-Skinner strings. The final movement entitled “Tierces” uses many of the motives of the earlier movements: octaves, alternating chords, etc. Cleveland gave a first-rate performance.
We then enjoyed a tasty box lunch in the labyrinthian but cozy basement of the First Baptist Church. After lunch, we returned to the sanctuary for the OHS annual meeting. Orpha Ochse was feted for all her work on behalf of the organ and the OHS. Joseph McCabe, chairman of the 2009 convention in Cleveland, gave us a tantalizing peek at all the good things it promises.
Following the meeting, we had a choice of spending some free time at the Seattle Center, which includes the Space Needle, or attending a recital by Gregory Crowell at German United Church of Christ in Seattle. Since I had been to the Seattle Center before, I chose the recital. True to form, we were early by about a half hour. The little church, in a quiet neighborhood and with a small congregation, has a rare treasure in these parts: a 1917 Hinners organ, Opus 2324. It was built in 1917 for St. Jakobi Lutheran Church in Allison, Iowa, and, after a few moves, it wound up in the safe hands of the Organ Clearing House. Legendary OHSer Randall Jay McCarty, organist of this church, installed the organ in 1976, replacing an electronic substitute. It has one divided keyboard and pedal and is a sweet charmer. Since we were so early, our distinguished recitalist Gregory Crowell, a favorite OHS performer (this would be his sixth convention appearance), agreed to begin 30 minutes early.
It was amazing how much he managed to get out of this six-rank instrument. He began with Huit Fugues pour le Clavecin ou l’Orgue by Johann Philipp Kirnberger: Preludium I & Fuga [1], which worked quite well. The organ was hand pumped. Then, using the electric blower, Crowell played Contrapunctus I from Kunst der Fuga, BWV 1080, by Bach—something I never thought I’d hear on a 1917 Hinners. But the organ held its own, and Crowell played it very well. Next came music by Max Drischner (1891–1971): Choralvorspiele für Dorforganisten; “Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern” was played on the pleasing little 4′ flute; “Die Sonn’ hat sich mit ihrem Glanz gewendet” used the strings; and “In dir ist Freude” employed the full sound. These are very nice and accessible pieces.
Next was the hymn In dir ist Freude, which we sang in German. Again the organ was hand pumped. The next piece was a bonbon: Träumerei, op. 15, no. 7 by Robert Schumann, in an arrangement by Clarence Eddy. Then came a Pastorale by Bossi, which seemed to use every register on the organ—an amazing array of sound and color. Next up was a Capriccio by one A. Pedro Zuazo (fl. 1890) that he played in a cheerfully agreeable manner. Crowell closed his program with Church Sonata I, III. Allegro, by James Woodman (b. 1957). I never cease to enjoy hearing music by composers of our time on old instruments. These instruments are never out of date. This one played music from a wide spectrum and handled all of it with ease. Good organ building is timeless.
We then returned to the hotel for our elegant buffet dinner in the twelfth floor ballroom. Then it was off to St. James Roman Catholic Cathedral, which is perched dramatically on First Hill overlooking the southern end of downtown Seattle, with its mixture of industrial loading cranes for the ships of Puget Sound, office towers, and huge sports venues. We were at St. James for the closing event of the convention: a recital by the cathedral’s organist, Joseph Adam. This magnificent Romanesque church has been remodeled/restored so that the altar stands at the crossing. There is a large oculus above the altar, which, in photographs I’ve seen, sends a dramatic shaft of light into the building from the sun above—like the hand of God reaching in. At the west end, in a beautiful case, stands the historic musical treasure we had come to hear: the great Hutchings-Votey organ of 1906. It had escaped unharmed when the great dome of the cathedral collapsed under the weight of a massive snowstorm in 1916. In 1926 a Casavant sanctuary organ was installed in the east apse. While it had only 21 stops, it had a 4-m console that connected the two organs. The 4-m Hutchings-Votey organ has 48 stops. In 2000, the Casavant was replaced by a new organ by Rosales Organ Builders, retaining five ranks from the Casavant. It totals 48 ranks on four manuals. The Rosales pedal includes a Bombarde 64′, which is unlabeled. Only the BBBB sounds, but it is most impressive. The Rosales case wraps around the wall of the apse in a series of Romanesque arches. Like the Casavant, its console can play both organs.
An ancestor of the cathedral’s first organist, Franklin Sawyer Palmer, was introduced to the audience. The director of music, Clint Kraus, spoke of the last visit by the OHS to the cathedral in 1982, when an historic citation was presented. Kraus said that that presentation was the impetus to restore the Hutchings-Votey organ.
Joseph Adam opened his program on the Hutchings-Votey organ playing Bach’s Chaconne in D Minor as transcribed by Wilhelm Middelschulte. We were all transfixed by the amazing flutes on this magnificent organ. Then came the foundation stops, which were followed by the trumpets. The kaleidoscope of tones being flung into the vast reverberant space was quite wonderful. It calmed down to a pp with rapid repeated notes on the flutes. A big crescendo briefly included the 32′ reeds, followed by a lessening of tone as we heard more and more of this instrument.
The oculus let in the last light of day as we awaited the next selections, three well-known and loved pieces by Louis Vierne: Naïades, op. 55, no. 4; Claire de lune, op. 53, no. 5; and Carillon de Westminster, op. 54, no. 6. In Naïades, his fingers flew over the keys, flutes and strings seeming to race up and down the Romanesque arches of the cathedral. Claire de lune was all tranquility—our thoughts could wander slowly as they do in moonlight. This was heartfelt organ playing. Who could not love the organ hearing such a beautiful solo flute singing to us—lost in beauty, awe and wonder. He played the Carillon de Westminster brilliantly: controlling and holding the reins together until just the right moment when he allowed the music to explode. I’ve never heard it played better.
We then sang the hymn: “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” (Divinum Mysterium), followed by a piece commissioned for this convention, Divinum Mysterium: Solemn Meditation by Timothy Tikker (b. 1958). It is a lovely work, very quiet at first, almost brooding, the music leading into a surrender to faith. It soon brightened, the manuals reflecting the stepwise melody in fast notes while the pedal sounded out the theme in long notes. All the while a crescendo grew. It is a fine piece and a good addition to the repertoire.
After intermission, Adam appeared at the east end of the cathedral, and played the Rosales organ. He began with another piece by Timothy Tikker, Variations sur un vieux Noël. The Rosales organ makes sounds that complement rather than compete with the room’s elder statesman in the west end gallery. We heard bell sounds against strings, reeds creating open fifths, tierces sounding against trumpets. A fugue broke out that was quite lively and grew to full organ. I really liked this piece, and I like this organ. We then sang “Come Down, O Love Divine” (Down Ampney) to his marvelous accompaniment.
Joseph Adam closed this fantastic recital (the cathedral, by the way, was packed—we OHSers only occupied the transepts!) with Maurice Duruflé’s Suite, op. 5. The Prelude used both organs, creating a sonic spectacle that is possible in only a handful of buildings. The Sicilienne featured a solo reed that filled the church. Sweet strings and a bubbling flute lightly danced for us. Adam is an alert and wise musician—able to address composers’ thoughts and bring them to us in an astonishing array of color. Clearly, he knows and understands these remarkable organs completely.
The great and fiendishly difficult Toccata brought the Suite and convention to a dramatic conclusion. Adam’s performance was as magnificent as the organs he was playing. We were all swept away by his powerful strength and energy. The air above and around us was charged with his utter mastery of this music. With the huge 32′ stops giving us ground, it was at times almost gloriously terrifying—a fantastic experience! There was an encore: Dupre’s Prelude in G Minor, a somewhat palate-cleansing feeling to calm and give rest to our spirits. I did not want to leave this building. It was a transforming recital, one none of us will forget anytime soon.

Closing thoughts
This was an unusual OHS convention. While we heard plenty of old instruments, they were transplants from the east or elsewhere. We were witness to a new, more youthful voice on the national and international stage, the emerging influence of the modern organ world in the Pacific Northwest. Two names came up again and again: John Brombaugh and David Dahl. These two gentlemen have led this movement and deserve our admiration. Martin Pasi, Paul Fritts, Richards & Fowlkes, Taylor & Boody, and others got their start here.
I had a great time at this well-organized convention, seeing old friends, making new ones, eating good food, and getting to know the organ world in this part of the country. Much more will come from this school of organ building. Let us enjoy watching it unfold. The Organ Historical Society will be observing it all with great curiosity, and interest. See you next summer in Cleveland, July 5–10! Oh, and my horoscope was dead on!

Robert August is director of music/organist at First Presbyterian Church of Fort Worth, Texas. Previously he was assistant university organist and choirmaster at The Memorial Church at Harvard University, during doctoral studies at the New England Conservatory of Music. A native of the Netherlands, he has an extensive background in historical performance. August has served as carillonneur at Brigham Young University, and as organist and conductor at churches in the Netherlands and the United States. In addition to collaboration with artists such as Yo-Yo Ma, Christopher Hogwood, and Simon Carrington, he has performed in Europe and the United States as a solo artist and accompanist, including tours and CD recordings with the Harvard University Choir and the Harvard Baroque Chamber Orchestra. Robert and his wife, flutist Dolores August, often collaborate on modern and period instruments.

This is a work that has occupied
me for the whole of the previous year in an effort to make it worthy of the lofty name it bears. It is also a work which, I believe, is likely to outlive my other creations the longest.”1 This was Schumann’s description of the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH, op. 60, in a letter to his publisher, after completion of the final fugue. Schumann took great care and pride in the six fugues, but his prediction could not have been more off target as the fugues are rarely performed anymore. Rather, they have become the topic of ongoing discussions about Schumann’s mental state in relation to the quality of his output.
The notion that the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH are of lesser quality than the majority of Schumann’s oeuvre seems to be based on largely subjective analyses. Such subjectivism is not uncommon in art and music, as is evident in Albert Schweitzer’s discussion of J.S. Bach’s Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582: “He [Bach] saw clearly, however, that on the whole the incoherency of this kind of work was not suitable to the greatest organ music, and he ventures upon the experiment only with this colossal theme.”2 In Schweitzer’s opinion, the Passacaglia was a compositional failure that did not compare to Bach’s other organ works.
Robert Schumann was of a different opinion: “After a pause, these [organ compositions] were followed by the Passecaille in C Minor (with 21 variations, intertwined so ingeniously that one can never cease to be amazed) admirably handled in the choice of registers by Mendelssohn.”3 Schweitzer’s and Schumann’s remarks, published roughly sixty years apart, could not be more contradictory.
Why is it that the Passacaglia can render such opposing views, especially by two men known for their deep respect and understanding of Bach’s music?4 With regard to Schweitzer, we cannot be sure if his comments were the result of a somewhat subjective analysis, but he undoubtedly would not have published his findings unless he believed them to be correct.5 Schumann’s opposing remarks are fascinating as well. They not only provide us with his opinion of the Passacaglia but also unveil his often-overlooked understanding of the organ.
Tragically, Schumann’s organ works, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH, op. 60, have often been deemed ‘unworthy’ and are repeatedly criticized or, perhaps worse, omitted from Schumann biographies. Op. 60 is systematically neglected and misinterpreted, often as a result of careless research. It is undoubtedly the most disputed cycle Schumann ever composed. Despite a number of favorable articles, a flow of negative writings remains consistent.6 Numerous articles on the six fugues are based on flawed research and, in some cases, pre-existing articles. Biographers often use Schumann’s mental condition to explain the lack of quality in the six fugues, conveniently ignoring the fact that Schumann produced some of his best works during the same period, including the Symphony in C Major and the Piano Concerto in A Minor.7

A musical cure
A general misconception of Schumann’s organ works seems to have carried well into the 20th and 21st centuries, as several of even the most recent Schumann biographers merely reference the fugues rather than opening up a dialogue or deeper discussion. Schumann’s organ works are neglected in several “comprehensive” Schumann biographies. Alan Walker, e.g., speaks favorably of the 1845/46 compositions in general, but omits op. 60 altogether.8 George Dadelsen describes the six fugues as “appallingly monotonous” while trying to compete with Bach’s Art of Fugue.9 Other biographers carelessly mislabel op. 60; Marcel Brion describes the Four Fugues on the name of Bach, op. 72,10 while John Worthen writes: “In April he began writing his Six Fugues for Organ on B-A-C-H (op. 60), a sequence interrupted only by the arrival of a rented pedal-piano which allowed him to write works for keyboard and pedal which did not require an organ.”11 Schumann, in fact, did not interrupt his fugal writing. Instead, a pedal attachment for the piano was hired to practice organ.12 Eric Jensen makes a similar mistake: “Schumann rented a pedal piano—a piano fitted with pedals for the feet like an organ—in order to become familiar with the technique involved.”13
Although Schumann was by no means an accomplished organist like Mendelssohn, he did have a deep understanding of the instrument, as is evident in numerous sources.14 Robert Schauffler claims that the fugues were mere play: “To Schumann at the height of his career, such exercises [contrapuntal studies] were mere play. While diverting him, they used up so little of his true creative power that, with the approach of warm weather, he was able to throw himself into making two of his chief masterpieces: the Piano Concerto and the C Major Symphony.”15 Schauffler continues:

Schumann must have felt in his bones that fugal writing was not in his line; for not until 1839 did he compose his first published attempt, that unsuccessful experiment, the Fughette, op. 32, no. 4. He gave out nothing more of the sort until the nervous collapse of 1845, during which he wrote works that look passing strange in a catalogue of his music.16

After a short description of Schumann’s contrapuntal works of 1845, Schauffler writes:

The composer’s nervous collapse had been aggravated by the too intense labor and excitement of his years of song, symphony, and chamber music. One suspects that when, as he wrote Mendelssohn on July 17th, 1845, ‘an onslaught of terrifying thoughts’ had brought him to try his hand at fugal writing, very much as we of today would cajole a nervous invalid into doing crossword puzzles, to take his mind from his troubles. The very fact that Schumann’s intensely subjective nature made it almost impossible for him to give of his best in this formal, objective style allowed him to play with these contrapuntal forms without expending too much energy.17
Peter Ostwald too, believes that the contrapuntal works of 1845 were exercises to improve the composer’s mental condition:

Despite his physical and psychological complaints, Schumann was beginning to do some composing again, but it was mainly the sort of counterpoint exercises he had relied on, as a way of settling his mind, during earlier depressive episodes. He rented a special musical instrument, called a pedal piano, that “has an extra set of strings and hammers, making it easier to play fugues, and worked on Bach for a while.”18

While Ostwald does not stand alone in his opinion of Schumann’s mental state in relation to the compositions of the contrapuntal year of 1845, one cannot but wonder why they, in particular the organ works, have methodically been deemed inferior. Ostwald also writes:

Before the trip with Clara, in August 1845, Schumann had composed several fugues based on the name BACH, and he published an impressive amount of contrapuntal work later that year and the next. The six BACH Fugues in particular must have required enormous concentration, since not only are they based on a musical relationship between Bach’s name and the notes of each fugue subject, but they also incorporate an intricate mathematical system, the so-called Bach numbers, which Bach himself had used to provide cohesion in his contrapuntal work.19

With all due respect to Mr. Ostwald, his findings are based on pre-existing, flawed research. Though Schumann indeed incorporated certain Baroque principles in his organ works, Peterson’s attempt to attribute “Bach numbers” to the fugues holds no ground. Similar misguided assumptions have been applied to Bach’s music as well, claiming for example, that Bach had left clues in his music in regards to his own date of death.20 Despite his intrigue with Bach numbers, Peterson’s opinion of the fugues as a whole is less than favorable: “Schumann’s fugal writing seems, in spite of his studies, to have been a contrivance which he discarded when he felt hampered by it, even in a work entitled ‘fugue’.”21 Stephen Walsh provides us with a similar statement: “Even in the finest passages of op. 60 one is aware of a certain impersonal quality about the writing.”22
A recent biography by John Worthen reads: “This [study of counterpoint] was, after all, a musical cure; one that involved creating music on the page, after the enforced dry period of the autumn of 1844.”23 Worthen continues with some blatant assumptions:
Such music insisted on structure and pattern, rather than on the harnessing and expression of emotion and melody which had made the work on Faust so exhausting. The fugal music could be worked out logically and tunefully, within its own very narrow confines. Its very limitations offered freedom from excitement.24
What Worthen exactly means by ‘tunefully’ remains uncertain. As an analysis of the fugues will demonstrate, his claim that the fugues are confined or free from excitement could not be farther removed from the truth. Worthen’s next statement too, is completely false: “At any rate, the ‘quiet’ neo-Baroque music that engaged Schumann in the spring and early summer of 1845 may have been a rather narrowly focused sequence of works to occupy the composer of the Finale zu Faust, but it had served the purpose of getting him back into composing.”25 As we will see in the following discussion, the perception of Schumann’s contrapuntal studies as mere therapeutic tools has remained a common yet flawed assumption for over a century.

Schumann and Bach
An aversion to the organ works is routinely linked to Schumann’s mental illness, while some scholars maintain that Schumann simply was not a real contrapuntist, and that his knowledge of counterpoint was quite moderate. Though the number of unfavorable commentaries seems perhaps overwhelming, it is interesting to make the comparison with—at least as many—complimentary testimonials. Schumann’s studies in counterpoint commenced well before composing the six fugues. The numerous entries in the diaries and household books depict Schumann as a prodigious student of Bach works and contrapuntal techniques (see Appendix 1). Schumann seems to have taken a natural liking to Bach’s music, perhaps enhanced by the Bach revival of the early 19th century. Leon Plantinga writes:
He [Schumann] subscribed to a rather deterministic view of history in which a central tradition in music could be expected to develop in certain orderly and predictable ways. For him this tradition, for all practical purposes, had its beginning in Bach, the first in a series of monumental composers whose personal contributions comprised the locus of an inevitable line of progress leading to his own time. This line extended through Beethoven and Schubert to Schumann’s own contemporaries.26
This ‘extended line’ manifests itself in the organ fugues as Schumann reaches back to older forms while engaging in a new kind of fugal writing. Though Schumann was not the first composer to incorporate the famous BACH theme, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH comprise the first significant cycle of organ works of its kind, soon to be followed by Liszt, Reger, and many more. For Schumann, studies in the Art of Fugue were crucial in the genesis of the organ fugues. As Gerhard Weinberger writes:
The overall conception, the thematic material and the extremely high quality of the writing all derive from Bach; this fugue cycle represents the end of a developmental phase which culminated in Schumann’s study of Bach’s music (the six fugues may be viewed directly as modeled in the Art of Fugue) and of the fugue per se.27
Weinberger continues: “Nevertheless, the fugues are by no means derivative stylistic copies, but effective ‘character fugues’ in the romantic vein.”28 An interesting detail is the fact that Schumann, despite his admiration of Bach, deemed the Art of Fugue too intellectual. His view in this matter may be explained by his famous quote:
The best fugue will always be the one that the public takes for a Strauss waltz; in other words, a fugue where the structural underpinnings are no more visible than the roots that nourish the flower. Thus a reasonably knowledgeable music-lover once took a Bach fugue for a Chopin etude—to the credit of both! Thus, too, one could play for many a maiden the last part of one of the Mendelssohn fugues and call it one of the Lieder ohne Worte. The charm and tenderness of the figures are such that she would never be reminded of churches and fugues.29
This last comment is fascinating. “Never be reminded of churches” is a telling statement that says a lot about the Zeitgeist, since churches and fugues are so strongly connected here, and in such a harsh way.
Schumann’s interest in the organ was steeped in a deep admiration for Bach. In the April 1842 issue of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik he wrote: “ . . . At our next meeting, a volume of well-executed fugues would please us more than another one full of sketches. At this royal instrument, the composer must have learned the value of clearly defined artistic form, such as that given to us by Bach in the largest as well as smallest works.”30 Three years earlier Schumann wrote: “But it is only at his organ that he [Bach] appears to be at his most sublime, most audacious, in his own element. Here he knows neither limits nor goal and works for centuries to come.”31 Schumann’s organ fugues, thus, are not a byproduct of mental exercises. They are carefully crafted works, based on a long tradition.
Approaching fugal composition from a new (Romantic) perspective, Schumann felt that he had created works that were truly unique. Like Bach himself, Schumann united the old and new, resulting in six spectacular character pieces. After all, according to Schumann, “Most of Bach’s fugues are character pieces of the highest kind; in part truly poetic creations,”32 and Schumann’s fugues were no different. In the diaries Schumann refers to Bach’s compositions repeatedly. He seemed to be concerned with preserving and reviving Bach’s legacy, which, according to Hans T. David, “. . . by invoking the name of Bach again and again, helped gain for Bach’s work a secure place in the minds of educated musicians.”33 In addition to the Bach legacy, Schumann was concerned with preserving his own legacy. His preferred medium in this—the fugue—is easily explained by his lifelong admiration of Bach’s keyboard fugues. Charles Rosen gives a second reason for Schumann’s choice: “In the nineteenth century, the fugue had become a demonstration of conventional mastery, a proof of craftsmanship. Besides competing with Beethoven, Schumann conforms to the standard pattern of fugue laid down by Cherubini.”34
In addition to Bach’s keyboard fugues, at least two more sources play an important role in Schumann’s contrapuntal output: Marpurg’s Abhandlung von der Fuge (1753) and Cherubini’s Cours de Contrepoint et de Fugue (1835). Federhofer and Nauhaus write:

The composer’s concern with counterpoint began during his ‘apprenticeship’ with Heinrich Dorn (1804-1892) in the years 1831/32, and bore its first fruits in his exercise books. Schumann subsequently turned his attention to F.W. Marpurg’s Abhandlung von der Fuge [Treatise on Fugue], parts of which he studied again, albeit reluctantly, in the autumn of 1837, along with Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. This independent study is reflected, in an artistically transmuted form, in the book of Fugengeschichten [Fugal matters] (November 1837) which is at present held at the Robert Schumann Haus in Zwickau.35
According to the Haushaltbücher, the Schumanns’ studies of Cherubini’s treatise commenced April 6, 1845, the same month Robert finished the first two organ fugues. Cours de Contrepoint et de Fugue is largely based on Bach works and clearly serves as a point of departure for Schumann’s organ fugues. Two and a half weeks later, on April 24, Clara describes the rented pedal board for their piano: “. . . we obtained on hire a pedal to be attached below the pianoforte, and from this we received great pleasure. Our chief object was to practice organ playing.”36 Both Robert and Clara enjoyed the organ, but it seems that the intent was to study organ rather than becoming concert organists like Mendelssohn. Clara by then was a renowned concert pianist, while Robert had given up keyboard playing some fifteen years earlier, due to his numb finger.
A combination of counterpoint studies, a deep admiration for Bach, and a great appreciation for the organ finally resulted in the counterpoint episodes of 1845. In regards to Schumann’s organ compositions, Joachim Draheim writes, “The exceptional importance and originality of these fugues were long insufficiently appreciated, although they belong to the very few truly distinctive organ compositions from the first half of the 19th century, together with Mendelssohn’s Organ Sonatas, op. 65, to which they owe certain impulses.”37 Besides generating an artistic legacy, Schumann may have anticipated commercial success from his contrapuntal output; works for pedal piano were hardly available, and Schumann made sure he was among the first to write for the instrument, ensuring a ‘head start’ in any possible financial gain. The six fugues were, like Mendelssohn’s organ sonatas, among the very few serious organ compositions of their time, and the first large cycle of organ fugues on the name of BACH. And as Schumann himself points out, the organ fugues can also easily be performed on piano (four hands). Schumann cleverly published opp. 56, 58 and 60 as works for pedal piano or organ, most likely to enhance sales. However, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH lacked (financial) success, and remain Schumann’s only attempt at organ composition. Schumann, however, was very pleased with his contrapuntal endeavors. A letter of 8 February 1847 to his friend Carl Ferdinand Becker illustrates Schumann’s satisfaction with the six fugues: “I have never polished and worked so long on any composition of mine as on this one in order to make it worthy of the illustrious name which it bears.”38

Mendelssohn
Like Mendelssohn, Schumann favored a modern fugal type steeped in the Bach tradition, yet combined with a poetic flavor. As Plantinga points out: “It was the particular genius of Mendelssohn, Schumann said, to show that successful fugues could still be written in a style that was fresh and yet faithful to its Bachian and Handelian models; these fugues hold to the form of Bach, he felt, though their melody marks them as modern.”39 Already a famous conductor, composer and organist, Mendelssohn wrote his Three Preludes and Fugues, op. 37 in 1836–37. Later, in 1844–45, he wrote the Six Sonatas, op. 65. As Klaus-Peter Richter points out, the motivic resemblances between Mendelssohn’s and Schumann’s organ works are more than obvious.40 In reference to Mendelssohn’s fugues of the six sonatas,41 Schumann writes: “I do not wish to indulge in blind praise, and I know perfectly well that Bach made fugues of quite a different sort. But if he were to rise from the grave today, he would, I am sure—having delivered himself of some opinions about the state of music in general—rejoice to find at least flowers where he had planted giant-limbed oak forests.”42
Mendelssohn’s organ works were well received by critics43 and may have generated Schumann’s contrapuntal aspirations, though Schumann may have chosen a slightly different path to avoid comparison with Mendelssohn’s compositions; in addition to writing the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH he wrote a set of canons and sketches for the pedal piano.44 Schumann hoped to be among the first to publish works for this relatively new instrument, ensuring financial and artistic gain. Including the piano as an optional instrument for performance of the fugues, sketches, and canons aided Schumann in several ways; it bypassed the archaic reputation of the organ while marketing the music for the most widely used keyboard instrument of that time. An advertisement in the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik states:

Some Studies and Sketches for the pianoforte with pedal will shortly be published from Robert Schumann. We would like to remind our readers that in our opinion, when once this combining of instruments finds general acceptance, performers will have the opportunity not only to return to the earlier art and bring classical organ works into private homes, but also discover many different uses for the pedal piano and accomplish new effects.45

Alas, the pedal piano never became the widely used instrument Schumann was hoping for, and none of the contrapuntal studies of 1845 were a financial success.

Schumann and the organ
The rise of the Enlightenment caused a great shift in the use of instruments in churches, the court, and at home. The new, galant style called for instruments capable of immediate and subtle changes in timbre and dynamics; hence, the piano became the new keyboard instrument of choice. The organ, as Schumann wrote, reminded people of “churches and fugues,” and was considered an archaic and static instrument. Despite its tainted status, Schumann proceeded to compose for the instrument, a decision that may be partially attributed to a long tradition; many post-Renaissance composers wrote larger works to preserve their name in history. Several of Bach’s sacred compositions, for example, were simply too long to be included in church services.46 Similarly, Mendelssohn, Brahms, and Schumann were not employed by the church, yet their output includes a large quantity of sacred works.47
Scholars have often blamed Schumann’s limited knowledge of the organ for the so-called poor quality of the organ works. However, Schumann knew the organ well, and his understanding of the instrument was in fact greater than most of his contemporaries. Russell Stinson recently uncovered an important document in regards to Schumann’s perception of Bach, as well as the organ. The Clara Schumann Bach Book offers a detailed list of Bach keyboard works from Schumann’s library and contains numerous detailed markings (corrections, registrations, etc.) in Schumann’s hand (see Appendices 2 and 3 on page 26).
The source is very specific and provides us with a list of Bach’s keyboard works that Schumann owned before the contrapuntal year of 1845. In one particular example Stinson points out: “In the case of the Clavierübung setting of ‘Vater unser, im Himmelreich,’ Schumann bracketed every phrase of the canon on the chorale melody, similar to how he analyzed fugues from the Well-Tempered Clavier.”48 The Vater unser chorale prelude is a compositional tour de force and one of Bach’s most complex organ works. Based on the many markings, this work must have had a great impact on Schumann. Schumann also corrected typographical errors and gave detailed descriptions about the use of stops, manual changes, as well as pitch designation, all of which demonstrate more than basic knowledge of the organ.49 As Stinson points out:
Just consider how Schumann annotated, from Part 3 of the Clavierübung, the manualiter setting of “Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir,” a work in which Bach subjects each phrase of the chorale tune to a complex fugal exposition before stating the melody in augmentation in the soprano voice. Following Bach’s constant use of inversion and stretto, Schumann bracketed, in addition to each phrase of the chorale proper, every one of the roughly forty fugal statements.50

The Clara Schumann Bach Book is an invaluable source, and for once and for all does away with the general misconception of Schumann’s limited knowledge of the organ. The evidence in Schumann’s personal library discloses both his interest and knowledge of Bach, the organ and counterpoint.

A new approach
Schumann was known to compose rather fast, but it took him from April to November to write the fugues. In the Diaries, Schumann writes:

I used to write most, practically all of my shorter pieces in [the heat of] inspiration; many compositions [were completed] with unbelievable swiftness, for instance, my First Symphony in B-flat Major [was written] in four days, as was a Liederkreis of twenty pieces [Dichterliebe]; the Peri too was composed in a relatively short time. Only from the year 1845 on, when I began to invent and work out everything in my head, did a completely new manner of composing begin to develop.51

This new manner of composing resulted in works that were based on a thorough, perhaps more intellectual approach. Schumann’s keyboard compositions of 1845 are often said to be more objective than his earlier compositions.52 That in itself is a subjective statement, and should be taken with a grain of salt. Traits of the younger Schumann can be found in any of the collections written in 1845, but they also expose a maturing composer. These are indeed contrapuntal works based on models by Bach, Marpurg, and Cherubini, but Schumann remained true to himself as a person and artist by combining the new with the old. The fugues exhibit a blend of sentiment (third fugue), restriction (fifth fugue), and excitement (second and sixth fugues). Schumann, as Weinberger says, “demonstrates the highest skill in contrapuntal writing, using all sorts of complicated polyphony culminating in the concluding double fugue. But at the same time he produced expressive compositions which he himself termed character pieces, but in the strict style.”53 Charles Rosen was right when he wrote, “Throughout his short musical life, Schumann produced his most striking works not by developing and extending Classical procedures and forms, but by subverting them, sometimes undermining their functions and even making them momentarily unintelligible.”54
The six fugues remain among the most unique works in the organ repertoire, and Schumann was well aware that these compositions differed from his earlier output. Having given up his old habit of composing at the piano, Schumann felt liberated. Daverio sheds more light on Schumann’s new manner of composing: “. . . it is perhaps better understood as a logical outgrowth of his approach to large-scale instrumental composition in the earlier 1840s rather than as a radical break.”55 Scholars have maintained the notion that Schumann’s oeuvre reflects several distinctly different compositional periods. Daverio’s opposing view, however, “explains” the six fugues in a nutshell:

Perhaps Schumann intermingled ‘subjective’ and ‘objective’ qualities throughout his career, but with varying degrees of emphasis, a hypothesis implying that the passage from a ‘subjective’ to an ‘objective’ phase was hardly abrupt. To insist on a hard and fast demarcation of style-periods in time is to miss the point, namely, that Schumann’s oeuvre unfolds in a series of sometimes parallel and sometimes overlapping phases. The products of his imagination may thus be viewed as points where divergent or complementary trends intersect.56

Von Wasilewski agrees with this view, pointing out the combination of strict form and a Romantic, poetic spirit:
Of the two sets of fugues (ops. 72 and 60), the latter, consisting of six fugues on the name of Bach, is of extraordinary merit. The first five fugues especially display so firm and masterly a treatment of the most difficult forms of art, that Schumann might from these alone lay claim to the title of a profound contrapuntist. They show variety of plastic power with four notes only. The tone of feeling varies in all six pieces, and is always poetic, which, in connection with a command of form, is the main point in composition. These are serious character pieces.57
Though the Canons and Sketches display a more intimate, subjective side of Schumann, the six fugues demonstrate a stronger balance between head (Eusebius) and heart (Florestan). Daverio’s and Von Wasilewski’s points of view are supported by the great variety of character in Schumann’s mid-1840s compositions.

Six Fugues on the Name of BACH
Schumann’s Six Fugues on the Name of BACH are the product of a carefully planned blueprint. Modeled after Bach’s examples, one might expect various Baroque elements in these pieces. Indeed, the fugues were conceived as a set of six, similar to many of Bach’s cycles (including many of his organ works).58 Such systematic arrangement of cycles containing six pieces was common in the Baroque era and, as Piet Kee points out, is rooted in numerology that goes back as far as Pythagoras.59 The use of number symbolism in music diminished substantially after the rise of the age of the Enlightenment, and despite Schumann’s use of ciphers (on several occasions) there is no evidence that points to the composer’s knowledge or intentional use of number symbolism. Schumann’s fugues, however, do reveal a consistent observance of the Golden Ratio. This number (0.6180339887…) is found in nature, music and art.60 Schumann’s knowledge of the Golden Ratio is not recorded anywhere, but based on the many examples found in his and his contemporaries’ music, it seems plausible that he was familiar with the concept. The use of the Golden Ratio though, so closely related to nature, seems to have prevailed through the Romantic period into our time.61 A close examination of the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH unveils Golden Ratio (G.R.) proportions (often multiple times) in each of the six fugues. These examples are often found within a measure of the exact G.R. When applying the G.R. to the number of measures in each fugue we see the following outcome:
Fugue I. The first fugue totals 64 measures. When we apply the G.R. to these 64 measures, we come to 64 x 0.61 = 39, or measure 39. This measure contains two consecutive subject entries in the pedals. A ‘reversed’ G.R. (counting 39 measures from the end) is found in m. 25, located between two more subject entries (the second being a false entry) in the pedals. NB: this fugue only contains two such double-pedal entries, each clearly defined by the Golden Ratio. In addition, the apex (c3) is reached first in m. 40 (one measure after G.R measure 39).62
Fugue II. The second fugue is 174 measures long; 174 x 0.61 = 106. In m. 106 new material is presented (ascending octaves/scales). A reversed G.R. leads us to m. 68, where the subject appears in the pedals (in its entirety) for the first time. Like several Bach compositions, this fugue contains Golden Ratios within Golden Ratios. The second fugue can be separated into three separate divisions: At m. 74 we see a clear separation in the music; there is a sudden dynamic change (from forte to piano), while the texture changes from chordal homophony to strict polyphony with the BACH motive in stretto. An inverted G.R. within that section highlights m. 29, where the exposition is stirred up by a repeat of the subject in the alto voice. This entry starts on B-flat, similar to the very first entry (slightly modified for harmonic purposes), but then suddenly shifts from a dux to a comes entity; the first four notes of the subject appear in dux form, while the remainder of the entry is presented in comes fashion. It is the only fugue in the cycle where Schumann applied (uniform) dynamic markings to each voice entry in the exposition, as to point out the exposition’s irregularity. Federhofer and Nauhaus point out that “. . . Schumann probably regarded the treatment of the ‘comes’ (different in each case) as depending on the character of the subject.”63 Mm. 75–121 mark the second division of the fugue, totaling 47 measures; 47 x 0.61 = 29 = m. 102, which is marked marcato while presenting new material. The fugue’s third division comprises mm. 123–174, totaling 53 measures. This section contains a reversed G.R. (counting 32 backwards) at m. 143. The score reveals a significant change in m. 143 as the music changes from a thin, three-part polyphonic to a full, chordal and homophonic texture.
Fugue III. The third fugue is the shortest one of the cycle, counting only 59 measures; 59 x 0.61 = 36. The G.R. is found in m. 36, where the music moves to the sub-mediant, E-flat major. A reversed G.R. points to m. 23; the end of the exposition. This five-voice fugue does not combine all five voices until close to the end, after the third (and final) pedal entry. Schumann uses the pedals to single out the Golden Ratio.
Fugue IV. The fourth fugue is 116 measures long; 116 x 0.61 = 71. M. 72 is marked fortissimo, the loudest dynamic marking in the fugue. Here the music also has a strong sense of forward motion (see endnote 64). The drastic change at m. 72 divides the piece into two sections. The second division, totaling 45 measures, unveils one more reversed G.R. at m. 92, where the music changes from a homophonic to a polyphonic texture.
Fugue V. The fifth fugue in the cycle totals 124 measures; 124 x 0.61 = 76, the beginning of the pedal tone F. When looking at that first section separately (mm. 1–76), we find yet another striking place; 76 x 0.61 = 46; in m. 46 the subject appears in the middle voice, while the BACH theme (in sustained note values) are presented—in stretto—in the bass and soprano voices. NB: this is the only time the BACH theme is played in the pedals. The fugue’s second part (mm. 76–124) contains one more G.R.; 49 (number of remaining measures) x 0.61 = 30, which appears exactly at the pedal point in m. 104. Additionally, the original subject appears in retrograde.
Fugue VI. 155 x 0.61 = 95. Measure 95 presents a clear statement of the subject in the pedals. A reversed Golden Ratio (95 from the end, rather than the beginning) leads us to m. 60. Schumann writes a clear break in the music at measure 59, immediately before introducing the second subject of this double fugue; the fugue’s two sections are separated by a quarter note rest and a double bar line, as well as a dynamic increase (più f). In addition, Schumann writes lebhafter (livelier). When we apply the G.R. formula to the first part of the fugue (the first 58 measures) we come to 58 x 0.61 = 35. One measure earlier the subject is first introduced in the relative minor key (G minor). Similar Golden Ratio divisions are found in the second part of the fugue (97 measures long): 97 x 0.61 = 59 (m. 117). In m. 116, just one measure earlier, Schumann clearly defines the break in the music after two (!) four-measure pedal points, when the BACH motive is re-introduced—this time in block chords. A reversed G.R. is found at mm. 95/96. In m. 95, after a three-measure pedal point, the fugue’s first subject appears first in the second part of the (double) fugue. Other changes involve a dynamic increase and the introduction of both subjects simultaneously.
The number of Golden Ratios in Schumann’s fugues is overwhelming, yet the question remains if they were intentionally ‘placed’ or if they are a mere compositional byproduct. Schumann’s organ compositions are an unusual blend of styles, which could easily generate an over-analytical approach. Peterson’s and van Houten’s previously mentioned findings are prime examples of such “determined research,” and one needs to be careful not to attribute music’s every single detail to a genius mind. In regards to Golden Ratio, perhaps the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Regardless of Schumann’s intentions, the number of G.R.s is remarkable and cannot be denied.

Styles
Schumann’s organization of the cycle reveals a fascinating blend of Baroque and Romantic principles. Burkhard Meischein points out the cycle’s sonata-like layout:
Fugue 1: Slow introduction
Fugue 2: Faster section
Fugues 3 and 4: Cantabile, slower section
Fugue 5: Scherzo
Fugue 6: Exciting, intensely growing finale64

Interestingly, Schumann’s Classic outline is not unlike Bach’s symmetrical organization of larger collections.65 Notice, for example, the symmetry in time signature, tempo, dynamics and texture (see Appendix 4).
The six fugues are based on the famous BACH theme that Bach himself had used in the final (incomplete) fugue of The Art of Fugue. As Daverio points out, “Though all the fugues incorporate the BACH theme, some of them use this theme merely as a starting point for a larger subject (see the subject of the second and fifth fugues).”66 Stinson discusses the many motivic similarities between Schumann’s opp. 56 and 60 and Bach’s organ works. The second fugue on BACH, for example, has occasionally been ridiculed for its elongated subject, but is analogous to BWV 575, which was published by Schumann in the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik in February 1839.67 In Abhandlung von der Fuge, Marpurg discusses the proper treatment of fugue subjects:
I myself once heard him [Bach], when during my stay in Leipzig I was discussing with him certain matters concerning the fugue, pronounce the works of an old and hardworking contrapuntist dry and wooden, and certain fugues by a more modern and no less great contrapuntist—that is the form in which they are arranged for clavier—pedantic; the first because the composer stuck continuously to his principal subject, without any change; and the second because, at least in the fugues under discussion, he had not shown enough fire to reanimate the theme by interludes.68
While some of the subjects are indeed rather lengthy, Schumann seems to adhere to Bach’s examples, avoiding redundant (complete) repeats of fugue subjects. Similarly, rather than following conventional compositional techniques, Schumann used existing forms as a starting point for a more modern idiom. Thus, the amalgamation of old and new techniques generated compositions that were (and still are) anomalies in the organ repertoire, and may in part explain their unfortunate fate. A closer examination of the fugues reveals some very interesting patterns:
Fugue I. The first fugue initially follows the conventional exposition pattern, as each of the voices is introduced in the right order. However, when the fifth voice is introduced in m.12 (in the pedals), the alto part drops out, leaving a four-part texture before finishing the exposition. In fact, the five voices never appear together in contrapuntal passages. Schumann, undoubtedly aware of this atypical approach, applied the idiosyncrasy in five of the six fugues (the fifth being the exception). Throughout the cycle, both the core subject (the BACH motive) and the complete subjects appear in many different forms. Klaus Jürgen Sachs points out the repeatedly changing order of emphasized notes of the BACH motive.69 In the first fugue, for example, the motive appears straightforward in four half notes, with B-flat and C being the emphasized notes (B-flat and C appear on beats one and three in a 4/2 time signature). In m. 5 the same motive is presented in the alto voice, starting on the second beat rather than the first. This metrical displacement is typical of Schumann and is employed throughout the cycle.
Fugue II. In the second fugue we see a continuation of metrical shifts; starting in m. 3, the running sixteenth notes suggest a duple (2/4) rhythm in a 3/4 time signature. In m. 48 the first fugue’s subject is introduced in the pedals, combined with the second fugue’s main subject in the manuals. Schumann takes great liberty in the intervallic relationship between the first and second parts of the subject. The first part of the subject (BACH) starts on B-flat, while the second part (continuous sixteenth notes) follows at the sixth, on G.
This relationship remains consistent until m. 30, where Schumann separates the two motives by abandoning the intervallic connection. The two motives still appear together throughout the fugue, but the second part of the subject (its starting pitch) is modified for harmonic purposes.70
Fugue III. The third fugue appears to be a double fugue, but the second subject is never fully developed. Derived from the main subject, it might be conceived as a melodically and rhythmically weak countersubject. ‘Undermining’ the second subject may have been intentional, as Schumann’s focus seems to be mainly on the principal subject. Whereas the first two fugues were written in the key of B-flat major, the third is written in G minor. Bound by the initial BACH motive (centered around B-flat), Schumann may have used the countersubject as a means to establish the fugue’s tonality. This thought also explains the countersubject’s lack of development, as Schumann’s focus is on the principal subject. Of the six fugues, the third maintains the strictest counterpoint throughout, and never resorts to a homophonic texture.Fugue IV. In the fourth fugue Schumann for the first time deviates from the established BACH motive. Though still citing the same motive, the notes are ordered in a new manner, incorporating the interval of a sixth. There are a number of similarities between the fourth fugue and Schumann’s second symphony, which was written 1845–1846. The symphony’s Adagio exhibits chromatic elements similar to the BACH motive used in the six fugues,71 and even incorporates a (semi) exposition, starting at m. 62, using two subjects. The Adagio’s harmonic progression of m. 82 also appears in m. 100 of the fugue. Schumann must have been fond of the chord progression, repeating it several times (consecutively) in both pieces. Like the fugue, the Adagio reveals a striking G.R. (130 measures x 0.61 = 80) at m. 82, where the music—marked by a double bar line—suddenly shifts from C minor to C major.
Fugue V. The fifth fugue, the scherzo of the cycle, maintains a strictly polyphonic texture. The independent voice leading, combined with fast-moving eighth notes, makes for some daring harmonies. Similar writing is found in the second Duetto of Bach’s Clavierübung III, of which Schumann owned a copy. Schumann again takes some liberties in the exposition, as the fourth entry of the exposition starts on E-flat rather than F. In addition, the pedal entry consists of two short, repeated motives rather than the entire subject.
Fugue VI. Schumann ends the cycle with a majestic, five-part double fugue. Simultaneous use of duple and triple meter, combined with a gradual buildup of tension and grandeur, creates a strong sense of completion. Stinson claims that the fugue is based on Bach’s Fugue in E-flat Major, BWV 552, pointing out the similarities between the two fugues.72 Schumann, however, once again deviates from the Bach models and moves towards a thinner texture before the end of the exposition. In the second exposition (starting at m. 59), Schumann’s approach is unconventional too, but not without reason. As the second theme is introduced, Schumann holds off on the expected pedal entry of m. 67. Instead, he omits the pedals until much later, in m. 92, where a three-measure pedal point adds gradual tension, leading to the first pedal statement of the fugue’s first subject. As the pedals introduce the first subject, the second subject is played in the manuals, thus combining the fugue’s two themes. Towards the end of the fugue, starting at m. 116, the fugue shifts suddenly from a polyphonic to a homophonic texture. Daverio points out the motivic resemblance in Schumann’s second symphony: “Culminating in a chordal peroration on the B-A-C-H theme, the fugue’s coda at the same time prefigures a climactic passage in the Final (mm. 343ff.) of the second symphony.”73 Just like the first fugue, the final fugue concludes with a coda. In the first fugue, at m. 34, Schumann indicated: “gradually faster and louder.” In the final fugue he specified: “Moderate, gradually faster.” While a thinning in the texture of the first fugue’s coda seems to suggest a sudden quieting down of the music, the sixth fugue’s coda undoubtedly calls for full organ, ending the cycle in a grand, majestic manner.

Schumann and the pedal piano
As discussed earlier, Schumann’s main purpose for hiring a pedalboard was to practice playing the organ. He found, however, that the pedal piano had much potential and that it might develop as an independent instrument. It seems plausible, then, that Schumann’s output of 1845 was conceived for pedal piano, organ, or both. Though opp. 56 and 58 are clearly written for the pedal piano (Studies for the Pedal Piano and Sketches for the Pedal Piano, respectively), there seems to be a discrepancy in regards to op. 60, which is labeled Six Fugues on the Name of B-A-C-H without any further specification in regards to the instrument of choice. The cover of the 1986 Henle Urtext edition of opp. 56, 58 and 60 reads Works for Organ or Pedal Piano without any further specification. In its preface, Gerhard Weinberger explains that in the first publication op. 60 is referred to as an organ work.
Interestingly, in the 2006 Schott edition the three cycles are published as Schumann Organ Works. In the preface, the editor, internationally renowned organist Jean Guillou, writes: “Schumann composed these masterpieces as a pianist and he wrote them for the piano, allowing for the possibility that they might be performed on the organ, but not really envisaging the precise manner in which an organist might ‘translate’ them for the instrument.”74 Guillou’s edition provides the performer with registration and tempo markings that go well beyond the original. As useful as a performer’s edition may seem, one needs to keep in mind that such is the interpretation of one person, and one needs to be mindful of the composer’s intentions. Notwithstanding the usefulness of such an edition, Guillou seems to have overlooked a most important issue; unlike the Studies and Sketches, the Six Fugues on the Name of BACH were written for the organ, not for the piano.
In the preface of the Henle edition Weinberger explains that the first edition refers to the six fugues as organ works.75 As we will see, the fugues are stylistically quite different than the other cycles. They lack, for example, the very pianistic approach, as found in the second and third canonic studies. Also, there is a drastic difference in the use of dynamics. Rather than the pianistic crescendos and decrescendos of opp. 56 and 58 (see the beginning of the fourth sketch), Schumann employs practical dynamic changes, easily realized through registration or manual changes.76 A compelling piece of evidence lies in the treatment of pedal points; Schumann frequently employs pedal points in both the piano and organ cycles. In the piano cycles Schumann repeats the pedal points every so often to ensure a continuous sounding of the bass note. Pedal points are never sustained longer than two measures.77 In the organ fugues Schumann writes pedal points for as long as twelve measures.78 Also, unlike opp. 56 and 58, op. 60 never exceeds the compass of the typical German Baroque organ, which may give us an idea of Schumann’s favored organ type. Hermann J. Busch points out that Mendelssohn preferred older organ types. For his first performance of the Six Sonatas for Organ, Mendelssohn chose an older instrument (Franz and Johann Michael II Stumm, 1779), while a modern instrument (a large Walcker organ) was available.79 Mendelssohn’s influence on Schumann as a composer and organist suggests that Schumann too may have favored older organ types, as is evidenced in Schumann’s comments in the diaries.80 Busch also points out that the majority of the organs known to Schumann were from the 18th century. These instruments were generally not equipped with a swell box. Crescendos therefore were realized by manual changes and/or adding stops.

Schumann the organist
It is obvious that Schumann took great pride in the six fugues. Rooted in a long tradition, stemming from his primary example, Bach, Schumann felt that he had contributed an important work that could stand the test of time. As Larry Todd points out: “Thus, Bach was memorialized in Schumann’s penchant for learned counterpoint, culminating in that erudite fugal compendium for organ, the Six Fugues on BACH, Op. 60 (1845).”81 How ironic then, that the cycle he had worked on for so long was received with such little approval. Perhaps Schumann would have been more successful if he, like Mendelssohn, had written organ sonatas rather than fugues. Rejcha perhaps explains the early 19th-century Zeitgeist best, saying “Since Handel and Corelli’s time, everything in music has changed two or three times, both in inner, as well as outer form. Only the fugue remains unaltered; and therefore—nobody wants to hear one.”82 Schumann, who “maintained with equal conviction that slavish imitation of older models was to be avoided,”83 must have thought that his organ works were indeed a breath of fresh air, as he expected them to outlive his other creations the longest.84 Notwithstanding their unfortunate fate, Schumann masterfully combined the old with the new. As Heinrich Reimann writes:

. . . the best proof of how deeply Schumann had penetrated, in thought and feeling, into the spirit of the Old Master. Everywhere the fundamental contrapuntal principles of Sebastian Bach are recognizable. They rise up like mighty pillars; but the luxuriant tendrils, leaves, and blossoms of a romantic spirit twine about them, partly concealing the mighty edifice, partly enlivening it by splendour of colour and varied contrast and bringing it nearer to modern taste. The most obvious proofs of this are:—The second fugue with the characteristic Schumann rhythmic displacement (2/4 time in triple rhythm); the fifth, with its subject on quite modern lines; and the last, with its romantically treated counter-subject.85

Though Schumann is perhaps remembered foremost as a composer of homophonic music, it is no coincidence that, as Nauhaus and Federhofer point out, Werner Krützfeld used two examples of Schumann’s Kreisleriana in Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart as examples of counterpoint.86 The Six Fugues on the Name of BACH mark an artistic high point in Schumann’s career, and one can only hope that these erudite compositions will eventually become part of the standard repertoire. A deeper understanding will perhaps spark a renewed interest in these wonderful pieces.

Frank Rippl is a graduate of Lawrence University Conservatory of Music, where he studied with Miriam Clapp Duncan and Wolfgang Rübsam. He is co-founder of The Appleton Boychoir, coordinator of the Lunchtime Organ Recital Series in the Appleton, Wisconsin area, and has been organist/choirmaster at All Saints’ Episcopal Church in Appleton since 1971.

When an organist thinks of Indiana, many things come to mind: the long history of fine organ teaching at Indiana University; the famous Fort Wayne Competition; the large Schlicker/Dobson organ in the Chapel at Valparaiso University; the three modern tracker organs in Christ Church Episcopal Cathedral in Indianapolis; plus two new organs at Goshen College (Taylor & Boody) and at Notre Dame University (Fritts); and the list goes on.
So it was with that abundance of riches in mind that the Organ Historical Society gathered at the Sheraton Hotel in Indianapolis for its 52nd annual convention to seek out the historical roots of such a strong heritage and affection for the pipe organ. It was a “Hoosier Holiday” on the banks of the Wabash with a wealth of music, organs, beautiful venues, corn and soybean fields, and gracious hospitality!

This year’s pre-convention event was a festive concert at Broadway United Methodist Church in Indianapolis with the Broadway Festival Chorus and Orchestra led by Jack L. Fox, minister of music at the church, and organist Christopher Schroeder, who presided over the 2001 Reynolds Associates Inc. organ. The evening began with Mr. Schroeder’s fine arrangement of the hymn O God Beyond All Praising, sung to the tune thaxted by Gustav Holst (from: The Planets—“Jupiter”). The church is a very attractive English Gothic building completed in 1927 with a high ceiling and resonant acoustics. The combined forces performed Rheinberger’s Mass in C Major, op. 169, and Widor’s Symphonie pour orgue et orchestre, op. 42. The choir and orchestra were adequate to the task and Fox led with sure command. The music is lovely, and it was a real treat to hear it live. Mr. Schroeder played the many fast passages of the Widor with great confidence.

Thursday, July 12
The actual start of the convention was Thursday July 12 with an ambitious program by Marko Petricic, who teaches organ at the University of Indianapolis. The venue was the elegant Second Presbyterian Church, founded in 1838 in Indianapolis. The present building, completed in 1959 in French Gothic style complete with an intricate flèche, has very fine windows including, above the altar, a Tiffany window brought from their previous building showing the Ascension of Christ. The organ is a large 4-manual, 80-rank Aeolian-Skinner from 1968, renovated in 2002 by the Schantz Organ Company.
Petricic began with the second movement of Messiaen’s L’Ascension, “Alléluias sereins.” The effect was pure magic as we all silently enjoyed the serene beauty of the gorgeous Tiffany window rising in front of us into the bright clear sunshine during Petricic’s beautiful playing. An OHS tradition is to sing a hymn or song at each concert facing the organ. So we rose, turned round and were bathed in the pastel light of the high clerestory windows as we sang Lobe den Herren to Petricic’s masterful accompaniment.
Then Soliloquy by David Conte gave us a good tour of this fine organ, while a video projection of the performer provided a helpful visual image. Petricic is a brilliant player with a great sense of color. He next played Petr Eben’s “Moto ostinato” from Nedělní hudba, and then ended his recital with the Prélude et fugue sur le nom d’Alain, op. 7, by Maurice Duruflé. It was electrifying. I hope we can have him do a full evening recital some year!

Our next concert was on the famous 1987 Holtkamp tracker organ (3m, 44rks) at Sweeney Chapel of the Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis. We were to have heard Marilyn Keiser, of Indiana University and the consultant for this instrument. She, sadly, had been in an automobile accident ten days earlier, and while not seriously injured, was unable to play. Edie Johnson, organist at the chapel, filled in with an interesting and well-played program. The visually stunning chapel, designed by Edward Barnes, was completed in 1987. It is essentially a concrete cube with five seconds of reverberation when empty, and 2.8 seconds when full. The organ rises along the wall to the right of the altar.
Johnson opened with Bach’s Fantasy and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 537. She gently unfolded the Fantasy on the beautiful Principal stops, and used the fine plenum on the Fugue. We next heard the organ’s Cornet in Buxtehude’s chorale prelude on Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott. Then came the second movement of Pamela Decker’s Río abajo Río (1999), “Diferencias,” showing us the strings and what I think was the Krumhorn. This is gorgeous music that I highly recommend.
The hymn was the rousing Torah Song, introduced on the fine Trumpet stop. Ms. Johnson closed her program with a superb performance of Mendelssohn’s Sonata in F Minor. The audience gave loud and sustained applause to this talented performer! Following a tasty boxed lunch from Wolfgang Puck, we had the opportunity to tour the Indiana Museum of Art and its extensive collection.

OHS favorite MaryAnn Crugher Balduf gave the first recital of the afternoon, playing the 1905 Felgemaker organ (2m, 16rks) at Bethel A. M. E. Church in Indianapolis. Steven Schnurr, chair of the Historic Organ Citations Committee, presented the church with an OHS citation in recognition of the historic merit of their organ. The altar table stands at the center of a long wall of this rectangular-shaped room, and the organ is in a balcony above the altar. MaryAnn began with “Allegro Agitato” from Fifteen Inventions, op. 1, by Joseph Callaerts (1838–1901), and followed with Offertoire by Theodore Dubois. She was then joined by her daughter, Sara Balduf Adams, soprano, in five beautiful early art songs by Alban Berg. We heard several combinations of the softer sounds of the organ as MaryAnn demonstrated her strong accompaniment skills. Sara has a lovely voice, and it was a treat to hear something besides just the organ at one of our recitals. Next up was Arietta by Horatio Parker. I love Felgemaker flutes: their sweet, round, ringing quality is unique. Next, in Frederick Newell Shackley’s Prelude in F, the variety of registrations gave us a good aural tour of the organ. MaryAnn ended with a charming March by John S. Camp, which she played in memory of a recently departed friend who was to have played a duet with her on this recital.
Stepping outside we had the chance to admire Indianapolis’s beautiful Venetian-style canal that flows past this church and through downtown. It must be seen to be truly appreciated—gondolas and all! We next paid a visit to the shop of organbuilders Goulding & Wood, who gave us an opportunity to view a large Aeolian-Skinner they were in the process of rebuilding for East Liberty Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh—a fascinating operation.
The afternoon’s last concert was at Old Centrum, formerly the Central Avenue Methodist Episcopal Church, a grand old 1892 auditorium plan building. It ceased being a church in 2000, and is called today The Old Centrum. Sixteen nonprofit organizations are housed there or offer services there. The organ stands front and center behind the altar table. This had been the home church of Senator Richard Lugar. Thaddeus B. Reynolds, Indiana organbuilder, did restoration work on this historic 1892 instrument and discovered that it was built by 19th-century Indiana organbuilder Thomas Prentice Sanborn & Son. There being no proper identification on the organ case, Reynolds ceremoniously attached a Sanborn nameplate to the organ case before the concert began. Sanborn had studied with the Hook brothers. This organ shows that influence with its bold, powerful and rich tone.
Our recitalist, Charles Manning, began with Louis Couperin’s Chaconne in G Minor demonstrating the organ’s full plenum. By way of contrast, he followed with Brahms’s Schmücke dich on a perfectly lovely flute that sang out with uncommon sweetness. He followed with the always-welcome Berceuse of Louis Vierne, a haunting evocative work. We then took a leap into the late 20th century with a piece by Arvo Pärt, Trivium for Organ: II (1988). I always love to hear new music on an old instrument. Quality organ building is a timeless art. I’ve become a big fan of Pärt’s music and was so glad to hear this piece. The old organ held its own against the mighty blast of OHS hymn singing with the hymn Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven (Lauda Anima). Manning ended his concert with Intrada in E-flat Major by Grayston Ives, b. 1948. He played very well for us, and gave us an interesting and varied program!

The afternoon ended with the only lecture of the convention, Michael D. Friesen on 19th-century Indiana organbuilders William Horatio Clarke and Thomas P. Sanborn, held at Roberts Park United Methodist Church. This was a perfect example of Friesen’s detailed research complete with photographs of the two men’s boyhood homes, early shops, and the ways in which they connected with the organ building world in the Midwest of the late 19th century. In addition to Michael’s fine commentary, we had the added pleasure of gazing upon a glorious black walnut organ case built by W. H. Clarke topped by two carved angels blowing on horns. The instrument was rebuilt by E. M. Skinner and then by Reuter, but the Clarke case remains.

The big evening event was a concert by Carol Williams, civic organist and artistic director of the Spreckels Organ Society, Balboa Park, San Diego—the first female ever to hold that position or any other similar position in the country. It was held at North United Methodist Church, Indianapolis, on the church’s large 4m Kimball organ from 1931, enlarged and rebuilt by E. H. Holloway Corp., Reynolds Associates, and Goulding & Wood. There are many beautiful and ravishing sounds on this big organ, most of which is at the front of the church in chambers on opposing sides of the altar area, and Dr. Williams made good use of them. I’m sure most of us showed up that night expecting to be entertained, and we certainly were. She presented a varied program that included Louis Marchand, Purcell, and a very romantic interpretation of Bach’s Fantasia in c, Lefébure-Wély, Rachmaninoff (!), and Mozart Changes by Zsolt Gárdonyi, with sections that sounded like Hammond organ jazz. She also played her own arrangement of Roller Coaster. The hymn was Amazing Grace, which she played from an arrangement by George Shearing. The final selection was her arrangement of Sabre Dance by Aram Khachaturian. Williams has good rapport with the audience and I’m sure her audiences at Balboa Park are very entertained as we were. However, her playing that night had a number of rhythmic instabilities that lessened the impact of what she had hoped to present. The organ has a thrilling set of horizontal fanfare trumpets in the rear gallery, and she fell prey to the temptation of using them too often. Another case of less is more.

Friday, July 13
This very lucky Friday the 13th saw us take our longest bus ride of the convention—two hours through the beautiful countryside of Indiana to our first stop: the sweet little town of Lagro, and St. Patrick’s Church, dedicated in 1873. Today it exists as an oratory, or place of prayer, as it lost its status as a parish in 1997. Mass is celebrated once a month by a priest from a nearby town.
The organ is a beauty, believed to be an Erben from 1845. The 1m, 5-stop organ with pull-down pedal was in two other Indiana churches before it arrived at St. Patrick’s between 1884–1888. It was restored by Hal Gober of Elora, Ontario, Canada, in 2004. It was one of my favorite organs at the convention!
Our recitalist was Gregory Crowell, director of publications for the OHS, and university organist of Grand Valley State University in Allendale, Michigan, who played a sprightly program for us on this tiny organ. One could easily discern his pedigree: Heiller students Yuko Hayashi, Bernard and Mireille Lagacé, and Harald Vogel. His playing was clear, clean and very musical. He opened with Handel’s Overture to Ottone. We then heard the lovely 8′ Principal play a Voluntarie from My Ladye Neville’s Booke, by William Byrd. A charming 4′ flute was used for Krebs’s Praeludium: Jesu, meine Freude. Other small pieces followed, giving us a fine tour. We sang the hymn Hail Glorious St. Patrick to the tune Hemy.
Three little Mozart pieces followed including Adagio for Glass Harmonica, K. 356, which again featured the extraordinary flutes on this organ. Crowell closed with C. P. E. Bach’s Organ Sonata in F Major, Wq 70, 3. I loved this organ. The pride the people who worship at St. Patrick’s have in their organ and lovely church was evident at every turn. We then had the treat of a tasty hog roast at the nearby Methodist church.
Our buses then took us to Peru, Indiana (hometown of Cole Porter!) and the wedding cake-like Catholic Church of St. Charles Borromeo (1863) and its commanding 183-foot steeple, for an outstanding recital by the young and very talented Karen Schneider Kirner, assistant organist for the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at the University of Notre Dame. The organ is an 1893 Louis H. Van Dinter with 2m and 19rks, and was given an OHS Historic Merit plaque before the program began.
Kirner began with the stately Processional by César Franck, and then played Praeambulum Festivum, op. 64, by Sigfrid Karg-Elert, another fine demonstration. Next up was Liszt’s arrangement of Arcadelt’s Ave Maria, which took me back to my youth. It was followed by Bach’s French Suite No. 5 in G Major, BWV 816, which worked quite well on this organ as a demonstration. Kirner is a very fine player. Her sure and nimble fingers carried us along in the final Gigue such that one wanted to dance! Her final selection on this historic instrument was the Passacaglia from Rheinberger’s Sonata 8 in E Minor, op. 132, which she played with effortless expertise!

On we went to Logansport, Indiana, to hear the 1883 Barckhoff organ at St. James Lutheran Church. The church was dedicated in 1868, but was largely destroyed by fire in 1883. It was rebuilt that same year along with the new Barckhoff organ. Various things were done to it over the years as the result of water damage. John-Paul Buzard Pipe Organ Builders restored it to its original condition as much as possible, adding an 8′ Great Trumpet, which had been prepared for but never added. Buzard copied a Barckhoff Trumpet from an organ in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The 2m, 23-stop organ stands in the rear gallery.
Following a mayoral proclamation by the mayor of Logansport, and a peal of the three tower bells, we heard a fine recital by organist John Gouwens, organist and carillonneur of the Culver Academies. He began with Allegretto grazioso by Frank Bridge, demonstrating a range of sounds from mf to pp—lovely quality to those sounds! He next played Pachelbel’s Chaconne in D Minor starting on the Dulciana and building from there. He continued with Three Chorale Improvisations by Karg-Elert—nice pieces. I especially enjoyed hearing the very beautiful 8′ Oboe & Bassoon with tremolo. The hymn was “A mighty fortress”—the last verse was sung a cappella, which was fun for us! There followed the only improvisation of the convention—on Ein’ feste Burg. We finally got to hear the new Buzard Trumpet, but only coupled to the Pedal. The improvisation started with strong sounds, and then drifted nicely into quietness at the end. I had hoped to hear more of the Trumpet, but Gouwens may have wished only to show the Barckhoff bits.
The final recital of the afternoon was in Frankfort at the First Presbyterian Church (est. 1831). Mary Gifford, director of music at St. Mary Catholic Church in Des Plaines, Illinois, performed for us on the 1959 E. H. Holloway Corporation rebuild of a 1901 Lancashire-Marshall opus 131: 3m, 36rks. It now has electric key and stop action. She played several character studies from the early 20th century beginning with “Sunrise” from A Pastoral Suite (1913) by Clifford Demarest, which built up a healthy crescendo. Then Bells in the Distance by Camil Van Hulse, which featured the chimes. (If you have chimes on your organ, this is not a bad piece.) Next came The Tragedy of a Tin Soldier by Gordon Balch Nevin, which induced many a smile with its melodramatic four movements. I love these old gems. When she finished, she stepped away from the console drying her “tears” with a white hanky. Following that was a chorale prelude on What a Friend We Have in Jesus by Van Denman Thompson, which featured the lovely Doppel Flute in an obbligato section and the Clarinet in the tenor at the end. Nice sounds all around! The hymn that followed was, of course, “What a friend.” Gifford had the tenors sing the soprano part and the sopranos sing the tenor line in their own range. It was a nice touch and just the thing to keep us on our toes at the end of a long day.
Gifford closed her very entertaining concert with two movements from Edward Shippen Barnes’s Symphony No. 2: III. Intermezzo, and V. Final. The Final used several devices Vierne used in the famous Final to his First Symphony. It was a real rouser, and she played it straight, giving it integrity.

Following dinner at our hotel, we bused to the relatively nearby St. Luke’s United Methodist Church for our grand evening recital by Thomas Murray, university organist and professor of music at Yale University. He of course is widely known as a concert organist and recording artist specializing in the Romantic repertoire and his own astonishing orchestral transcriptions. St. Luke’s is a huge new church with a narthex bigger than most of the churches we would visit at this convention. The choir room alone seats 130 people. The organ is a large 4m, 80rk Goulding & Wood from 1999.
Murray began with his own transcription of a piano work by Mendelssohn: Prelude and Fugue in E Minor (no opus no., 1841). We all marveled at Murray’s seamless transitions between keyboards and effective use of the expression pedals. The work has a fascinating fugue subject that begins with a descending major 7th. Next we heard Summer Sketches, op. 73, by Edwin H. Lemare: “Dawn,” “The Bee,” “The Cuckoo,” “Twilight,” and “Evening”—charming pieces. Murray used all the resources of this large organ to lift these pieces off the page. I especially enjoyed the bee buzzing away on the Vox Humana! The Great, Swell, Choir and Pedal divisions are spread out horizontally across the front of the church, while the Antiphonal is on the side wall to the left of the congregation. High overhead, and I do mean high (!), is the very powerful Trompette en Chamade, which is available on all manuals. The surround sound was magic with birds and bees twittering and buzzing away all over the place.
Murray then played one of Seth Bingham’s most famous pieces, Roulade. It does indeed roll over the place, and this was a masterful performance. Between numbers, he spoke to the audience in a direct, humorous, and engaging manner. He crowned the first half with Liszt’s Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H, with all of his spectacular skill of orchestration, pacing, musical architecture, color and nuance in full play! The organ was ablaze with drama! The hymn preceding the intermission was, I blush to admit, new to me: Ken Naylor’s marvelous setting (Coe Fen) of John Mason’s hymn How shall I sing that majesty. Murray accompanied it in grand Anglican style. After intermission we returned to our seats to hear him play an astonishing piece by Jean Berveiller (1904–1976), Mouvement, which has a virtuoso pedal part punctuated by syncopated rhythms in the hands. After working up all that steam, it then ends rather gently.
Murray closed his recital with the Suite, op. 5, by Maurice Duruflé. The very fine Goulding & Wood organ was a good match for his program and style of playing. The Prelude was replete with dark foreboding sounds, while the Sicilienne was all flowing liquid grace that poured out of this fine and colorful pipe organ. The formidable Toccata was played with pure fire and splendid energy. Thomas Murray’s approach to the organ is like that of a composer or conductor leading an orchestra. Melodic lines come in and out and are given uncommon shadings and nuance. Whenever I hear him play, I am reminded that he gets to preside over the huge, magnificent E. M. Skinner organ in Woolsey Hall at Yale. I wonder to what degree that instrument informs his playing when he is on the road. What does his inner ear hear? His playing takes us on journeys filled with wonder and astonishment!

Saturday, July 14
Another bright sunny morning took us to Acton, Indiana, not far from Indianapolis, to Acton United Methodist Church and Robert Schilling’s demonstration of a relocated 1895 Hook & Hastings organ, 2m, 11rks, Opus 1671. It came from Fletcher United Methodist Church in Indianapolis after that church closed. The Acton church is a simple modern structure along the highway. This organ has its original stenciling and looked right at home in its new surroundings. The church had banners and pulpit hangings that matched the colors of the pipes. The organ has a bold, room-filling sound that Schilling used very well. Its commanding presence at the front of the church allows it to speak clearly into the nave.
Schilling had played the rededication recital on this organ after it was moved to Acton, so he was quite familiar with it. He opened with Brahms’s Mein Jesu, der du mich, op. 122, no. 1. It was very well played and allowed us to hear many shadings of color. The hymn was by Charles Wesley: And Can It Be That I Should Gain (Sagina). His next piece was S. S. Wesley’s An Air Composed for Holsworthy Church Bells, which demonstrated the lovely Stopped Diapason with tremolo. He then played Theme, Arabesques [7 variations] and Fughetta by Van Denman Thompson, giving us a fine sampling of what can be done with eleven good ranks! The program closed with Postludium in C by Helmut Walcha, a former teacher of Mr. Schilling’s.

Our bright green buses took us to Rushville and Trinity Presbyterian Church located in a very attractive neighborhood of 19th-century brick Italianate houses. Yun Kyong Kim demonstrated another great Felgemaker organ: Opus 908, 2m, 10rks. The church is a charming old Akron-plan building with large, colorful windows. This sweet, mint-condition Felgemaker still has its original leathers. Kim began her recital with the organ’s gentle sounds playing Vierne’s “Méditation” from Trois improvisations pour grand orgue (1929), which she played very well with great sensitivity. The hymn was We Thank you, Lord of Heaven (Shining Day). It was followed by Sarabanda con Partite, BWV 990, parts 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 10, and 12, by J. S. Bach. I especially enjoyed her use of the 4′ Harmonic Flute. Yun Kyong Kim performs with great élan.
She followed that with a piece I’d not heard in years and was sure I’d never hear again: Indiana composer Joseph Clokey’s “Jagged Peaks in the Starlight” from Mountain Sketches. But times have changed and what was once corny, darn it, sounded rather pretty! Perhaps it was the Felgemaker’s warm Dulciana that got to me! This led us to Horatio Parker’s Festival Prelude, op. 66, no. 1. The Diapasons had their day to shine surrounding a middle section on the flute stops. But she saved a fun surprise for last. Indiana native Wendell Willkie ran his 1940 election campaign for president from Rushville, Indiana. So, led by the organ, we sang his campaign song: “We Want Willkie.” It was loads of fun and a real period piece.
After a fine fried chicken luncheon, we continued on down the road to East Germantown and Zion Lutheran Church, where longtime OHSer Karl Moyer demonstrated an 1898 M. P. Möller tracker, Opus 188, 2m, 16rks. It stands in the front of the church on the right side. He opened with a Beethoven Scherzo (no opus no.), using the Doppel Flute with echoes on the swell Stopped Diapason—nice sounds; I’m a real sucker for Doppel Flutes! Then came a chorale prelude by Parry on the tune Martyrdom, for which he managed the buildup of sounds nicely!
The hymn was Valet will ich dir geben (“All Glory Laud and Honor”). We sang the first two verses in German (When in Germantown . . . ). There followed three chorale preludes on that tune by Drischner, Guilmant, and Reger. The Aeoline stop on the Swell was especially nice—barely a whisper it seemed. The Manz Chorale Improvisation on “Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern” used the 4′ Harmonic Flute in the hands with the Great 15th coupled to the Pedal, producing a very agreeable sound. His final selection was Bach’s well known Fugue in G (“a la Gigue”). In spite of a few dead notes, he was able to give us a fine, controlled and cheerful performance of this tricky work.
David Kevin Lamb performed for us at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Richmond, Indiana. We completely filled this smallish church, which has a Tiffany style window that I liked. The organ is a 1966 Holloway, Opus 12, 3m, 31rks, E-P action. Ernest White was working with Holloway, and this organ bears his imprint at the time (heavy on the top, light on the bottom).
Dr. Lamb began with Guilmant’s Marche Réligieuse in F, op. 15, no. 2. The bright mixtures were a bit of an aural shock after a day of more restrained sounds. He moved next to four pieces by Denis Bédard. First was Andantino (1993), parts of which reminded me of Vierne’s Berceuse. It is a surprisingly tonal work that Lamb played quite nicely. Next were Variations on Sine Nomine (1998), which, among other things, featured a lovely Gemshorn Celeste. The next Bédard pieces were “Ode” (2001) and “Grand Jeu” from Suite du premier ton (1993), all in a neo-romantic style that worked quite well on this organ, which is spread horizontally, wall to wall across the rear balcony. It is quite a loud sound. The hymn was O Praise Ye the Lord (Laudate Dominum) in an arrangement by Michael Burkhardt.
Lamb closed with an old favorite of mine, Dubois’ Grand choeur in B-flat. He seemed to use full organ a bit more than necessary. Organists would do well, sometimes, to parcel out those fff sounds more conservatively. Otherwise they lose their effectiveness.
A short stroll down the street in Richmond took us to Reid Memorial United Presbyterian Church. As we made the two and a half block trek, we were treated to Reid’s tower chimes playing a series of hymn tunes. And that was just the start of the treasures to be found here. The building is a very attractive Gothic structure made of Indiana limestone. We entered a large stone porch with two mighty gothic arches and a mosaic tile floor. The interior was filled with light from 62 Tiffany windows. The somewhat fan-vaulted white ceiling gave a wonderful lightness to the space, which was dominated by the gorgeous Hook organ standing in two matching, solid mahogany cases on either side of the altar area, “plus,” in the immortal words of Madame Arnfeldt, “a tiny Titian” (!) that hangs in the back of this remarkable church. The 1906 Hook organ comprises three manuals and 66 stops. It was rebuilt by the Henry Pilcher company in 1937, and in 1958 the Wicks company did further work. Most of what remains is Hook, however. It has my favorite stop name of the convention, however, that would appear to have been added by Wicks to the pedal: “Voce de Tomba” a 32′ resultant (“Voice of the Tomb”).
Bruce Stevens, a longtime favorite of OHS conventions, was our recitalist. He began with a brief chorale prelude by Max Reger, Ach bleib mit deiner Gnade, op. 135a, no. 1, which was also the hymn that followed, after which we heard another setting, this one by Karg-Elert, which featured the celestes and the beautiful Clarinet stop, now named Krumhorn. Stevens always plays with the musical line carefully in mind, fingers and toes. The composer, the music and the instrument all shine through him, and not the other way around. I highly recommend his recording on the large Hook organ in St. Mary’s Church, New Haven, Connecticut! He thanked the women of the church who carefully dusted and polished all the tall gorgeous and elaborate casework—no small feat!
The next selection was Buxtehude’s: (“Jig”), BuxWV 174, in which the strong pulse was tossed to and fro with ease and style. Then came a perfectly splendid performance of Bach’s great Prelude and Fugue in B Minor, BWV 544, in which his Anton Heiller pedigree showed through with every note! Then we visited with the flutes of this organ in Mozart’s Adagio and Allegro in F Minor, K. 594, in which he displayed a marvelous poetic delicacy. His final selection was the great Sonata 7 in F Minor, op. 127, by Josef Rheinberger. It was a first-rate performance with broad and spacious sounds.
After a delicious and bountiful dinner at Guy Welliver’s Smorgasbord in Hagerstown, Indiana, we returned to Indianapolis for a most entertaining event: a theatre organ concert! It was held in the Warren Center for the Performing Arts, which is part of Warren Central High School. The organ came from the huge 3200-seat Indiana Theatre; it has 3m, 17rks on 19″ of wind pressure, and a 15-horsepower blower! I feel a real affinity for Barton organs as they were made in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, just 15 miles from where I live.
Our soloist on this fine instrument was young Mark Herman, who at age 19 is well known in ATOS circles. He gave us a wonderful evening of music from “The Great American Song Book”: Gershwin, Cole Porter, and the like. He plays with an infectious, enthusiastic style and has a fine understanding of jazz harmonies. I especially liked his version of Cole Porter’s My Heart Belongs to Daddy. It was saucy and sassy—full of humor punctuated by the kettledrums and the huge English Post Horn. He also played pieces he wrote that displayed that same playfulness, charm and humor.
Herman possess a great color sense—using all the resources of this very elegant instrument mounted in chambers on either side of the auditorium, the console rose out of the pit on the orchestra lift. Lighting effects were used with colorful projections on the chambers. His “If I Loved You” from Carousel was drop-dead gorgeous: lush colors and harmonies that belied his youth. Throughout the evening, he was witty and engaging in his remarks. He ended with a riotous performance of Roller Coaster. We were happy folk as we filed out to our buses.

Sunday, July 15
We were given a blessed free morning. Many people chose to worship at some the churches we’d visited. I slept in and enjoyed my pleasant room, with newspaper and coffee, and Sunday talk shows: an indulgence I can never enjoy back home—church musician that I am. A fine luncheon was served at the hotel, followed by the annual meeting of the OHS.
At 2:10 pm we boarded our buses and went to the rather spectacular 1929 R.C. church of St. Joan of Arc, a grand Italianate building made of Indiana limestone. It is striking for its 140-foot campanile and a 90-feet wide portico with five huge arches. The monumental interior has a flat ceiling. The side aisles are separated from the nave by 22 single-piece stone Corinthian columns that support the clerestory windows. Six marble columns support the baldacchino over the altar. Mosaics abound, especially St. Joan of Arc in the baldacchino, and St. Mary and St. Joseph above their respective side altars.
The organ, a 1929 Kilgen, Opus 4367, 3m, 33 stops, sits in a balcony to the left side of the altar, and speaks through a carved wooden screen. It enjoys a sumptuous acoustic! Basic repairs were made over the years and the Great Tuba was changed to a Trumpet, but otherwise it is as it was in 1929.
Rosalind Mohnsen, director of music and organist at Immaculate Conception Church in Malden/Medford, Massachusetts, and another OHS favorite, played a very fine concert. Organ, acoustics, player, and program all fit together perfectly. She began with the great “Choral varié” from Duruflé’s Prélude, adagio et choral varié sur le thème du “Veni creator,” op. 4, which swept over us like a warm blanket. Her own arrangement of Saint-Saëns’ “O Salutaris” from his Messe, op. 4, was next, with the huge Doppel Flute gurgling away beneath the melody on the Vox Humana, Stopped Diapason and Flute with tremolo. It was a wonderful effect. It was followed by the “Prelude” from Charpentier’s Te Deum and her own arrangement of Verdi’s “Marcia funebre” from his opera Giovanna d’Arco (Joan of Arc), a nod to this parish and its glorious building. The piece is quite good and very idiomatic for the organ.
The hymn she chose was also appropriate for the setting, The Maid of France, with Visioned Eyes (Noël Provençal), which came out of the old St. Gregory Hymnal. Nice touch, Rosalind! There followed a Krebs Trio, which nicely featured the Choir Corno di Bassetto. Next came a quiet bit of whimsy: Indiana composer Joseph Clokey’s “The Wind in the Chimney” from Fireside Fancies, op. 29, a charming display of the soft sides of this organ. She closed her exceptional recital with “Canticle of the Sun” by Richard Purvis from his Saint Francis Suite. The warm and powerful sounds of this fine organ were a joy to listen to on a sunny Sunday afternoon.
The only other musical event of the day was a glorious one: Choral Evensong sung by the Christ Church Cathedral (Episcopal) Choir of Men and Boys. Many of us would have liked to have heard them in their home setting, but the cathedral was having renovation work done. Therefore we did not get to hear any of the fine organs they have there. However, all was not lost because they relocated the event to the Church of St. John the Evangelist a few blocks away. St. John’s is the oldest Roman Catholic parish in Indianapolis (founded in 1837), and their building boasts very fine acoustics. The organ is a hybrid of sorts. It started out as a 1894 J. G. Pfeffer & Son with a Gothic case standing 26 feet high in the rear gallery. (Anyone who had the good fortune to be at the Iowa convention back in the 1980s will remember those wonderful Pfeffer organs we heard.) In 1923 a hailstorm damaged the organ and rose window. The Wicks company rebuilt the old organ in 1935 retaining many of the old Pfeffer pipes and adding four new ranks. Goulding & Wood rebuilt the Wicks organ as its opus 14 in 1989, retaining eight old ranks and the case. It now has 2m, 36rks of pipes plus nine digital ranks.
Choirmaster Frederick Burgomaster led the men and boys with all that marvelously understated yet dynamic style of the English Cathedral choir. All was in exquisite taste and control. The literature was first-rate: Stanford, Near, Josquin Desprez, Gibbons, Stainer, Bruckner, Sowerby, Grayston Ives, and Jonathan Dove. The Preces and Responses were by Philip Moore. The Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis were by Herbert Howells (St. John’s Service).
The choir was very well prepared and sang with clarity, conviction, and all the appropriate drama and color. Organist David Sinden provided masterful accompaniment for the choir—shading all the crevices, plumbing the depths, and exalting the peaks. The hymn singing in that exceptional space was among our best. My only complaint was that at times the organ and the men slightly overpowered the boys. But, it being summer, I expect that the boys may not have been able to gather their full number. Kudos to those young men who gave of their summer time in order that we might have such an inspiring, spiritual, and musically uplifting experience. Mr. Sinden sent us out with his postlude: Kyrie, Gott, heiliger Geist, BWV 671 by J. S. Bach. It was an afternoon of indescribable beauty and stimulation for all the senses!
We then enjoyed a free evening in downtown Indianapolis. Many of us ganged up to find some of the many fine eating establishments in that most attractive city, and had a grand time talking of what we had just heard!

Monday, July 16
Monday morning our buses took us to the First Presbyterian Church, Franklin, Indiana, where we attended a hymn-sing. The Akron-style building has large side windows through which the morning light poured in. They helped enhance the title of the service: “Christ, the Light of the World: Yesterday, Today, and Forever.” It was led by organist Robert Hobby, director of music at Trinity English Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Rev. Robert A. Schilling, AAGO, a distinguished clergyman and organist who performed at this convention in Acton, Indiana. The nicely designed service featured reflections, hymns and organ voluntaries all focusing on God’s light. The reflections were well chosen, and the hymns were all beloved tunes and texts. Mr. Hobby played with a fine energetic style but was often louder than necessary—I believe it was Tom Murray who, at his own recital, referred to that kind of hymn playing as being in “attack mode.” We OHSers love to sing hymns and are pretty loud. When WE are drowned out, then the organ is too loud. The organ is a 1912 Steere, 3m 38rks, rebuilt in 1988 by Goulding & Wood. Rev. Schilling delivered the non-scriptural readings, tracing the concept of light as it is manifested throughout the church year. Hobby played several of his own compositions, which I thought were very effective. His improvisation teacher was the legendary Paul Manz.
We then drove down to Columbus, Indiana, a city renowned for its stunning collection of buildings designed by some of the finest architects of the 20th century. Our concert was at the First (Tabernacle) Christian Church, Disciples of Christ, to hear Daniel Jay McKinley, who had been organist at this church from 1978–1998, but who now is organist/choirmaster of Christ Church, Hamilton and Wenham, Hamilton, Massachusetts. The building was designed by Eliel Saarinen, and ground was broken in 1940. The tapestry that hangs to the right of the altar that Saarinen designed was woven by his wife, Loja. It is thought to be the largest tapestry with a religious theme woven in the United States. Lighting fixtures and some of the liturgical furnishings were designed by Charles Eames and Eliel’s son, Eero Saarinen. One could easily discern how this building, essentially a long rectangular box, has influenced mid 20th-century church architecture all across America.
The organ was built by Aeolian-Skinner (4m, 80rks) as their opus 993. It would be the last, large A/S completed before WWII shut down organ building in America. There were problems and some criticism of the instrument as being too shrill, so it was softened a bit, but by 1969 it had deteriorated and was in need of an updated electrical system. To the rescue in 1980 came Goulding & Wood, who had done some tonal improvements on the instrument in the 1970s. It sounds quite grand today, and is admired throughout Indiana—a blending of the best of English, German and American organ building.
A projected image allowed us to watch Mr. McKinley play, as he was not visible to us. The organ is in the front of the church with the pipes in a chamber to the left of the altar. The acoustics are excellent. He opened with Wagner’s Prelude to Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, a marvelous and entertaining exploration of this large and colorful instrument. It was brilliantly played, inspiring awe! Following was a series of 16th-century dances by Tielman Susato and Pierre Phalèse. The first showed us the fine chorus reeds, while the second used the various 8′ principals ending with the chimes (!). Flutes, salicional, harp, soft reeds, even strings were used. Not correct stylistically, but fun to hear. Fine sounds all around.
Bach’s great Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542, came next. I felt that the louder portions of the fantasy seemed a bit hurried, but he made it work. The fugue was well played with lots of dash and energy. The hymn, O God who brought the light to birth, by Timothy Dudley-Smith (b. 1926), was commissioned for this church in memory of an infant daughter of choir members (husband and wife), and was sung to Sussex Carol. It was quite touching.
McKinley closed his program with Franck’s Grande pièce symphonique, op. 17. He made the most out of this church’s generous acoustics. In the fifth section (Andante) he used all the string stops to great effect. It was a first-rate performance of this difficult-to-hold-together piece. The church’s elegant simplicity is almost startling. It should be a place of pilgrimage for anyone interested in church architecture and in fine organs.
After lunch our caravan of buses took us west to the outskirts of Bloomington and a large A-frame church, St. Mark’s United Methodist Church, to hear the very talented Christopher Young, assistant professor of music at Indiana University School of Music in Bloomington. He performed on the church’s 1883 Thomas Sanborn organ, 2m, 14rks, which came from the Lockerbie Central United Methodist Church of Indianapolis. St. Mark’s is its fourth home. Interestingly enough, it is owned by the UI School of Music and placed in St. Mark’s with the agreement that it is to be shared by the church and the university students and faculty. The Convention Atlas states that the organ “is believed to be the only virtually tonally and mechanically intact example of this builder.” It is a beauty, sitting all shiny and buffed to the right side of the altar and pulpit.
This concert was unique in its use of visual media. As we entered, a PowerPoint presentation was giving information and photos about the organ’s restoration and installation. When the concert began the presentation went further, showing us pictures of each composer and the registration being used—changing as the performer changed them. It was a really helpful and riveting feature!
Dr. Young played very well, opening with S. S. Wesley’s “Choral Song” from Three Pieces for a Chamber Organ. It was followed with a Horatio Parker Scherzo, and then two Hoosier composers: Ned Rorem’s There Is a Spirit That Delights to Do No Evil . . . and William Albright’s charming “The Flues Blues” from The King of Instruments. The Albright piece was played with clever winks, nudges and wit. The hymn by William Albrecht, Father, We Thank Thee (Albrecht), was very effectively played, with loads of sonority. Next up was Vierne’s virtuosic “Impromptu” from Pièces de fantaisie, 3rd suite, op. 55, which he tossed off with great ease, grace and élan. The Oboe blended very well as a chorus reed. He closed his stimulating concert with Dudley Buck’s Variations for Organ on Foster’s Melody “Old Folks at Home.” The Oboe with tremolo was sweet and sentimental, accompanied by the Dulciana, which had a warm presence. The third variation featured some brilliant pedal solos. Hearty congratulations to Michael Rathke, organbuilder of Greens Fork, Indiana, for his superb job in restoring this fine instrument.

We then headed east to Indianapolis and Sacred Heart Church for a recital by Tom Nichols, music director at St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church in Indianapolis (where we attended Choral Evensong the night before). The 19th-century gothic church is a feast for the eyes, with a nave and two side aisles.There are five beautifully carved altars across the front, a communion rail and a pulpit complete with winding staircase, and elaborate canopy. Imagine our surprise when we read our atlas carefully and learned that the interior had been destroyed by fire on April 27, 2001, and had been completely restored to its former appearance! Amazing dedication of numerous artisans, and a wisely chosen diocesan insurance policy, plus a great deal of love and dedication of the parishioners made it possible. The organ was built in 1899 by Milwaukee, Wisconsin’s William Schuelke, Opus 146. It was also worked on by Pilcher and Wicks. The fire destroyed all but seven ranks, and caused partial destruction of a few others. Wicks has rebuilt the instrument salvaging what they could. The sound in that resonant acoustic is very good.
Nichols began with the hymn The King of Love My Shepherd Is (St. Columba), which soared and rang through this gorgeous church with its wall-to-wall terrazzo floor. He then played two movements from Dupré’s Fifteen Pieces for Organ Founded on Antiphons, op. 18, nos. 5 and 7. That was followed by the G-major Prelude from “Bach’s” Eight Little Preludes and Fugues. Eight little gems!
Next came a great demo of the flutes in Dan Locklair’s beautiful “Silence may be kept” from Rubrics, which he played with great sensitivity. Then came an old favorite of mine, Cantilène by Gabriel Pierné. The Cornopean and Doppel Flute were quite wonderful, as were the lush strings. Emma Lou Diemer’s setting of the Battle Hymn of the Republic gave us another chance to enjoy the strings and Doppel Flute. Nichols performed his own set of variations on the tune Slane (Make Us True Servants) that was quite a good piece. His final selection was by Matthew Dickerson, a lively, dance-like setting of Lasst uns erfreuen that showed the organ well. As we left we enjoyed looking again at the twin 165-foot steeples of this venerable building.
But the day was not done. More wonders awaited us at one of Indianapolis’s most magnificent buildings: the Scottish Rite Cathedral, an immense Gothic structure built with Indiana limestone and looking, for all the world, like Riverside Church in New York City. It is believed to be the largest building in the world dedicated to Freemasonry. We stepped out of the buses into the late afternoon sunshine and took up benches in a huge park across the street and listened to a concert played for us on the cathedral’s 63-bell carillon housed in the 212-foot central tower. The carillon was cast by the Taylor Bell Foundry, Loughborough, England. The concert was expertly played for us by John Gouwens, whom we had heard in an organ recital on Friday—a man of many talents, he. His program included Pealing Fire by Libby Larsen, Impromptu by Léon Henry, Stephen Foster’s Beautiful Dreamer, a piano piece, Charmes by Federico Mompou, which Gouwens transcribed, and his own Sicilienne ronde. It was a very agreeable change of pace for us to sit in that beautiful park, which is an urban mall, containing numerous huge monuments to honor war dead. If you’ve never been to Indianapolis, I highly recommend a visit!
We then entered the cathedral, passing through one stunning room after another, finally making our way to the large ballroom where we enjoyed a bountiful buffet. We then went upstairs to the 1300-seat auditorium, where we heard a great recital by Martin Ellis playing the glorious 1929 Skinner organ (5m, 71rks), Opus 696. The auditorium is a step back in time to an opulent world of deep reds and a forest of dark and gleaming walnut. Huge carved angels act as brackets supporting the ceiling. The seating is horseshoe shaped around a platform that leads to a stage. The organ console is placed in and among the seats at the opposite side of the room from the stage. The pipes are all in the ceiling and speak through a grille. There are Antiphonal and Stage divisions in a separate locations. Originally the organ had a four-manual console. The Reisner company provided a new five-manual console in 1969. The sound is powerful and has an amazing presence in the room.
Ellis opened with the hymn God of Grace and God of Glory (Cwm Rhondda), which was followed by a grandiose arrangement by Richard Ellsasser of a Frescobaldi Introduction and Toccata. Bach’s Toccata in F Major, BWV 540, worked surprisingly well on this very orchestral organ. He followed that with Seven Sketches of Utrillo by Robert Hebble, in which we could hear many of the beautiful solo stops on this huge instrument as it evokes Parisian scenes. Next up was his own arrangement of Manuel de Falla’s Ritual Fire Dance; coming out the ceiling as it was made the colors and rhythms very intoxicating. Mr. Ellis is a very youthful, energetic performer, who is organist and assistant director of music for North United Methodist Church in Indianapolis.
After intermission we again heard Vierne’s Berceuse, a piece I never tire of hearing, followed by Ellis’s arrangement of Louis Adler’s novelty tune High Hat. He played it in pure theatre organ style, which was delightfully refreshing. His talented fingers and musicianship ruled the day! He also played a piece by Indiana composer Janet Louise Mauzi entitled Momento. As it happened, the composer (b. 1916) was present at this recital. The ever gallant Mr. Ellis paid tribute to her. The work was a sweet-cup-of-tea sort of piece—utterly beguiling. Ellis closed with Elgar’s famous Pomp and Circumstance in D Major, which he tore into with bold, muscular energy, performing it with great style, spaciousness and nobility. His encore was the late Welsh composer William Mathias’s Recessional—a strong and lively piece that made a nice aperitif. It was an altogether thrilling concert—a perfect ending to a long but pleasant day.

Tuesday, July 17
The convention, on its final day, was joined by the first rainfall we’d seen all week. It was most welcome as grass everywhere was going dormant from lack of rain. Our first stop was Calvary United Methodist Church in Brownsburg, Indiana, a suburban area of Indianapolis. The congregation was begun in 1828, but the building we entered was built in 2006. From their previous building, they brought with them their organ built by Charles Ruggles in 1994: three manuals, although the Rückpositif is prepared for. It has a commanding position on a platform behind and about eight feet above the altar, and has a fine North German tonal palette. The handsome stop knobs are of brass.
Our soloist was Carla Edwards, professor of organ and associate dean of the School of Music at DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana. She began with Brahms’s Praeludium in G Major. It was well played and, among other things, gave us a good hearing of the elegantly voiced 8′ Principal. The mixtures are quite good. I especially enjoyed the pedal’s full-length, deep-throated 16′ Trombone. She next gave us Daniel Pinkham’s Variations on Wondrous Love, followed by Gerald Near’s A Triptych of Fugues. The second fugue, marked “Slowly, expressively,” nicely demonstrated the rich, full flutes of this fine organ. The hymn was another Wesley hymn, Praise the Lord Who Reigns Above (Amsterdam). We sounded grand singing in the resonant acoustics of this attractive worship space.

The next stop was a unique experience for most of us: a visit to a Quaker Yearly Meetinghouse. Upon entering we were immediately struck by the peaceful simplicity of the place. Smooth wooden floors and pews stretched out along the width of this rectangular structure with simple tables at the front. On the left side stood an attractive 1899 August Prante organ, 2m, 16rks, which had been relocated by the Organ Clearing House in 1999 from the former Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church in Indianapolis. It was restored and installed by Goulding & Wood. The case has honey-colored wood and the façade pipes are in shades of cream and maroon.
William Aylesworth, distinguished organist from Chicago, and longtime OHSer, was the performer. We began with the singing of My Country, ’tis of Thee, but from then on all the music was by Chicago composers. His first selection was by Robert John Lind (b. 1940), Festludium in C, a fine contrapuntal piece. The next pieces, also by Lind, were a smart set of variations on Nun danket alle Gott, newly composed for Mr. Aylesworth to use at this concert.
Next came a sweet and gentle piece, In Summer by Charles Albert Stebbins (1874–1958). After a pp beginning, it grew into a larger, expansive sound, coming back down to an Oboe solo with tremolo and to the softest sounds again. Meditation by Rosseter G. Cole (1866–1952) was one of those dreamy, wandering little pieces that I found to be charming. He closed this program of good music unknown to most of us with another Cole piece, A Song of Gratitude, a joyous work. We were then served cookies and lemonade at which time we could enjoy the beauty of the grounds with large, lush, well-shaped trees. It was a refreshing pause for all of us.
After lunch at DePauw University in Greencastle, we gathered at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, a small building with a lively acoustic, that is adjacent to the campus. Kirby Koriath performed on the 2002 Zamberlan organ (2m, 23rk), Opus 1. Mr. Koriath is coordinator of graduate programs and professor of organ, church music and harpsichord at Ball State University, Muncie, Indiana. The organ stands in a rear balcony in a modern case. Nearly all the pipework was vintage pipework obtained from the Organ Clearing House. Some of the old pipes came from the 1870 E. & G. G. Hook Opus 555 built for the Methodist Episcopal Church of Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts, and from a ca. 1855 George Stevens or Stevens & Jewett organ.
Koriath began with Simon Preston’s Alleluyas. It was clear that this is not a shy organ and a bit on the strong side for such a small room. Next he played Pachelbel’s Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern in which we heard the beautiful Stopped Diapason (Hook) with the cantus in the Pedal on the Hautboy. Then more Pachelbel, his Toccata in D Minor. The loudness of this organ was particularly apparent in this piece and the hymn Es sungen drei Engel, a carol I fondly remember from my study of Orff-Schulwerk many years ago. He ended with a three-movement work on the hymn we had just sung: Orgelkonzert über die Weise “Es sungen drei Engel” by Hans Friedrich Micheelsen (1902–1973). I enjoyed the second movement’s use of the flute stops. Mr. Koriath played very well, and I enjoyed the pieces he chose. More variety and restraint in dynamics would have left a better impression.
Our next event was back on the DePauw campus in a large room on the second floor of the oldest building on campus, Meharry Hall. The rectangular room has a horseshoe balcony. Large portraits of past presidents line the walls above and below the balcony. The organ was at the rear in the balcony—an Aeolian-Skinner that was originally built as an antiphonal division for a large Kimball and was probably one of the last instruments Aeolian-Skinner built before the Second World War. All the pipework for the 2m, 13rk instrument was exposed.
The organist was Kristi Koriath (wife of Kirby Koriath whom we had just heard!), organist at Grace Episcopal Church in Muncie, Indiana. She began her program with a Partita on “Auf, auf, mein Herz, mit Freuden” by Flor Peeters, in which we could hear the fine voicing of this Aeolian-Skinner: it was clear, refined, and never forced. Next we heard a fine performance of Vierne’s “Scherzetto” from 24 Pièces en style libre, op. 31, which worked very well on this attractive little organ.
Ms. Koriath introduced our hymn Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott (rhythmic) with a chorale prelude by Buxtehude. Verse three was an organ solo: a chorale prelude by Jan Bender that used a 4′ reed in the Pedal. On verse four we joined her, but her accompaniment did not work so well as it had in the other verses. I’m not sure what happened, but we never got back on track. Hymns are funny things. Next came a Bach chorale prelude, Mit Fried’ und Freud’ ich fahr’ dahin, BWV 616, which was very enjoyable. She closed with a lively reading of Bach’s Prelude in G Major, BWV 541. We left with happy faces—not the easiest thing to summon up on the last day.
We then bused to Wabash College in Crawfordsville, one of the few remaining all-male undergraduate colleges in the country (850 students), to hear the 3m Aeolian-Skinner organ in the college’s chapel. Our soloist was the tireless Stephen Schnurr, director of music for St. Paul Catholic Church, Valparaiso, Indiana, secretary of the OHS National Council, and chair of the Historic Organ Citations Committee, and who, with Dennis Northway, is author/publisher of the book Pipe Organs of Chicago. As if that weren’t enough, Dr. Schnurr also wrote all the convention venue histories for the 300-page Organ Atlas 2007, which is an extraordinary and invaluable resource. Oh, and he is an excellent organist and teacher!
He opened with the hymn Love Divine, All Loves Excelling (Beecher) because of Henry Beecher’s connections to this chapel. The chapel is in New England Meeting House style with horseshoe balcony and clear Palladian windows. The colors blue and white predominate. The barrel-vaulted ceiling gave our singing much resonance. The console, rebuilt by Goulding & Wood, was moved front and center on the stage. The pipes are in chambers on either side of the stage. The auditorium’s walls are lined with portraits of past presidents. Schnurr continued with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in B-flat Major, op. 65, no. 4, which he played with great energy. He generously shared the program with his student, Micah Raebel, who will be a senior at Kankakee Valley High School, Wheatfield, Indiana. Micah performed the second and third movements of the Mendelssohn with great clarity—a talented young man, he! He used the Oboe stop to great effect. Dr. Schnurr played the final movement.
Next up was Indiana composer Joseph Clokey’s Jagged Peaks in the Starlight, which sounded very well on this organ—the Clarinet is a dream of purity. That was followed by another Indiana composer, H. Leroy Baumgartner (1891–1969), with his Prelude and Fugue on the Tune “Laudes Domine,” op. 42, no. 7. Dr. Schnurr and young Mr. Raebel sat down together on the bench for a 4-hand, 4-foot piece by Gustav Merkel (1827–1885), Sonata in D Minor, op. 30: Allegro moderato. This is a good duet if you are looking for such a thing. They played it very well. A fine and interesting recital with which to end the afternoon!
Back in Indianapolis, we all looked forward to dinner at The Rathskeller, a great old building that looked like a German Rathaus, with an interior decked out in all things Germanic. The food, served buffet style, was very good, but alas, none of it was German! Nevertheless, no one went away hungry. We then walked two blocks, passing a huge Shriner temple, to Zion Evangelical UCC Church for the closing recital of the convention by Ken Cowan on the church’s 1933, 4m, 63rk Kimball, with an antiphonal division added by Casavant in 1955. The organ stands in a chamber to the left side of the front of the church, speaking into the church at an angle. Renovated by Reynolds Associates in 1999, it is quite a beautiful-sounding instrument and a favorite of Indianapolis area organists.
It is difficult to find enough adjectives to describe Ken Cowan’s playing. He is simply one of the best anywhere! He began with Mendelssohn’s Sonata in F Minor, op. 65, no. 1. I especially enjoyed the soft whispering sounds of the sweet Erzähler and Swell strings. In the third movement he used the fine Clarinet, and the final movement moved along with great momentum with its arpeggios and chromatic passages. The hymn was All Things Bright and Beautiful (Royal Oak), which bubbled along merrily under his care. He spoke before each piece he played; his charming, boyish manner belied the blazing musicianship that streams out of the pipes at every turn.
His next piece was Fugue, Canzone, and Epilog by Karg-Elert. Now, Cowan is a master colorist, but he had a surprise for us when suddenly we heard a real violin begin to play from within the organ chamber. It was soon joined by a trio of women’s voices. The magical effect was enchanting. When it was over, he brought out the trio, and the violinist, Lisa Shihoten, whom he introduced as his wife. We cheered. Before intermission, Ken and his wife played a great violin/organ duet, Chaconne in G Minor for Violin and Organ by Tommaso Antonio Vitali (1663–1745) in an arrangement by Leopold Auer. This is a very good piece and Mr. Cowan gave it the full romantic orchestral treatment. Ms. Shihoten is a superb player who brought great passion to the music.
Following intermission, Mr. Cowan and Ms. Shihoten returned for two more pieces together: Caprice for Violin and Organ by Naji Hakim, and the second movement of Violin Concerto in D Minor, op. 47, by Jan Sables. The Hakim piece was commissioned by the AGO, and Cowan described it as being “light hearted.” It is that in spades, sounding like an audience of laughing people. In places it reminded me of Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi, with the occasional Cuban or Latin American rhythm. The organ part seems not for the faint of heart, but it sure sounds like fun. The music sparkles. I don’t think the audience stopped smiling once from beginning to end. The Sibelius movement was quite a contrast—all warm and low in the violin with luscious string tone in a bit more movement supporting, building to a climactic forte then pulling back for the violin entrance. The Kimball’s gorgeous tone embraced the violin and all of us. It is a marvelous instrument.
For the next item on the program, Ken came out alone to play Vierne’s Naïades. But, before he could start he had to fetch his wife who he had “engaged as a page turner.” They came back out and she had her violin bow in hand because she could not reach all the way across the wide pages on the wide music rack. She demonstrated her technique much to the merriment of all of us. Naïades, a difficult work, was played effortlessly. Cowan closed with his arrangement of Franz Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1. Needless to say it was utterly fantastic! I’ve heard him play many times and each time I come away wondering how he could ever “top this,” and every time he manages to do it! We leapt to our feet amid shouts of “Bravo!” He came back and gave us a charming bonbon of an encore, Gigue by Bossi.
It was a stunning end to a convention that was well run, on time, gracious, and friendly. Many of us come each year, finding that it is always a pleasure to be among our own kind—people who love the organ, instruments old and new. People who love history, love to get a feel for a particular area of the country and to learn about how pipe organs, and the buildings in which they stand, are a part of the fabric of communities large and small. Being fans of architecture plays a key role as does curiosity about local cuisine. On the bus rides, we like to sit with different people each time we board. It is fascinating to discover all their backgrounds. We find professors, cathedral organists, parish organists, organ builders, organ historians, and some who don’t play at all, but just like to listen to organ music. With 25 concerts one certainly has an opportunity for that! We come from all over the world to experience the American organ. There is much to be proud of here, and it was on fine display in the long history of superb organs in the Central Indiana region at this summer’s convention. Bravo to the committee and to the Organ Historical Society!■