New Organs

Juget-Sinclair Organbuilders,
Montreal, Québec, Canada
Second Presbyterian Church, Nashville, Tennessee

From the organbuilder
We were first contacted by Second Presbyterian music director Nancy Turner in early 2004. A visit to Nashville to meet the committee revealed a fine group of people with good ideas, but no church as yet. Building a new organ for a structure that doesn’t yet exist is quite different from the usual. We’ve developed a routine when we visit a church where we will be building: we make a pipe (a 2′ C Principal) that we bring with us to voice on site—on whatever is left of the outgoing organ—noting the wind pressure on the pipe itself. We then use the pipe as a starting point in prevoicing in the shop. This habit allows us the security of knowing we won’t be too far off.
Of course at Second Presbyterian we didn’t have that luxury, let alone the usual walk-through to get a feel for the acoustics. It is quite a different thing to base your efforts entirely on architectural plans and acoustician’s predictions. But we have a hidden ace: our shop is a reinforced concrete structure built in 1919, with 30-foot vaulted ceilings, so the acoustics are flattering. We pre-voice a little loud, leaving the cut-ups low. It sounds good enough for a little concert in the shop before the organ is packed up. We’re often surprised when we set up an organ in the church for the first time, and we hear how the voicing was left—That sounded OK in the shop?! This is our assurance that we’ve left enough room for on-site voicing.
Denis Juget started his shop in a former chicken coop in his back yard in Saint-Basile-le-Grand, Québec in 1994. It was a fairly large chicken coop, which allowed him to build seven practice organs, each one a little different, and a continuo organ. I joined him in 1998, and we moved the shop to Montreal, first in a 2500-square-foot space, then expanding to our present 5000 square feet. The team has slowly built up to eight. We take great pleasure in building very nearly everything ourselves from raw materials—from casting pipe metal to pipe making, from action parts to casework. We cast our own reed blocks and make our own shallots. We make pallet springs and roller arms. We are continually confronted with doubt about whether this practice is reasonable, but have never bothered with the calculation—confident, I suppose, that the costs are far outweighed by the hidden benefits. The first is complete freedom in design—an existing part doesn’t fit the bill? Imagine a new one! The second is the inestimable value of having a small team capable of this varied work. These eight people can do anything.
The Second Presbyterian organ is set in the choir loft and speaks down the central axis of the octagonal nave. The console is built in, but elevated three feet from floor level; risers for the choir butt against the front frame, and the pedalboard sits on the top riser. Down on floor level are the bellows and blower-box, with the Pedal division behind. The manual divisions are above, with the Grand-Orgue in front and the Récit expressif behind. There is no back to the Grand-Orgue case and only a partial roof above it to allow sound egress. The pedal Trombone 16′ resonators are full length and extend up behind the Récit swell box. A ceiling truss passes inches above the Récit roof, and the central tower of the Grand-Orgue pokes up between two trusses. Key action is mechanical, and stop action electric.
The wind system starts with a single-fold cuneiform bellows. Wind trunks are in quarter-sawn white oak. There are concussion bellows on each division, and the wind is quite solid. The tremulant is a vent perdu style—a departure from our usual “Dom Bedos” style. Offset pipes are winded by wooden channels. We avoid using flexible tubing, only for the fun of it, whenever we can, which is almost always.
The elevated console posed a design problem: the organ case tended to look squashed. We found that incorporating mirrored pipe flats had the effect of visually lengthening the case. Mirrored façades are usually made by joining two identical pipes at the foot and winding them secretly from behind so that they speak in unison. We didn’t need the extra power and space was not over-abundant, so this led to a façade arrangement that is possibly novel: we made the twinned pipes each play a different note. This gives an arrangement where the 12 notes of the octave are divided into eight groups! The interval between adjacent pipes is an augmented fifth. The Montre 8′ has five interior pipes: three full-length wooden basses (C, C#, D) and two interior pipes at the top (g#′′′, a′′′). The rest of the stop is in the façade, made up entirely of speaking pipes.
Key action is suspended, with floating square rails to compensate for dimensional changes. Trackers are kept taut by tensioner bellows to avoid bounciness. The pedal coupler does not play through—with I/P and II/I couplers both on, a note played in the pedal will play manual I but not II. Consequently, we have to lighten the manual I keys with springs so that, with I/P and II/I couplers both on and a note held down in the pedal, that same note played on Manual II doesn’t stay down or repeat slowly. Key action is designed and built to be responsive and reliable, and to have a weight appropriate to the instrument without being overly heavy when coupled. Pedal action uses our parallel motion pedal pallets, which provide copious wind.
The combination action is by Laukhuff, with general and divisional pistons as well as a simple sequencer. Drawknobs and thumb and toe pistons are by Harris, slider solenoids by Heuss, and control cards by Laukhuff. Rather than a tutti, there are two toe pistons, which are settable reversibles and could be used for anything one would want to come and go with a push of a piston, such as appels d’anches.
Swell action is mechanical, with a simple and direct linkage. It uses ball-bearings wherever possible, including at both ends of each swell shade. We use the most common source of high quality bearing we can find: rollerblade bearings. We go to great lengths to make the swell box as airtight as possible. The swell box sits on top of the Récit wind chests, and all the basses are inside the box. The shades are very closely fit in their opening, and carefully adjusted to ensure good dynamic range. The geometry of the action is designed so that much more subtlety of swell shade movement is given at the ppp end to compensate for mechanical swell action’s natural tendency to have half the dynamic range in the first 1/4 of swell pedal motion. This geometry would normally feel strange underfoot as it would become suddenly light at the closed end. We install a brake that again compensates for this effect. It all ends up being worthwhile; the feeling and precision of a carefully regulated mechanical swell action is unmatched.
Pipe scales in this instrument are not variable, but mathematical, and often with a constant added, which has the effect of narrowing the scale in the middle of the keyboard or fattening it at the ends. Scales are based on our own experience, but informed by historical examples. Samples of any new reed scales are built and voiced in the shop before the stop goes into production. The Viole de gambe 8′ and Voix céleste 8′ are slotted. The céleste is placed just behind the Basson-Hautbois 8′ on the chest to avoid acoustical conflict. The Flûte douce 4′ is in cherry. Principals and manual reeds are in hammered tin, and flutes are in hammered lead. We order our lead ingots with the necessary impurities already added, which gives stability to the high lead pipes (11⁄2% tin). We also use that same lead in all our alloys, so they all have some trace amounts of copper, antimony, and bismuth. The façade is also hammered, in 75% tin. Our pipes are made so that the metal at the top of the pipe is considerably thinner than around the mouth and at the foot. We feel that this is crucial to the long term stability of the pipework, as it takes a lot of weight off of the top and adds thickness to the bottom, where it is needed. Open pipes are cone tuned (except the slotted strings), and stopped flutes are tuned at the ears as they have soldered caps so that they will never slip. The Trombone 16′ is full length, with pine resonators, wooden boots, and leathered brass shallots.
John Brock recorded the instrument for the Raven label, exploring a wide range of repertoire. The CD is entitled Second Wind—a reference to the fire and rebuilding—and we hope it aptly demonstrates the success of the rebuilding program.
Working on this instrument with Denis Juget and me in the shop were Robin Côté, François Couture, Céline Richard, Jean-Dominique Felx, and Jerome Veenendaal. Turned stop knobs and all engravings were by recorder maker Jean-Luc Boudreau. Raymonde Champagne designed the pipe shades. The celtic cross was gilded by Jean-Claude Vonesch.
A special thank-you is in order to John Brock, Nancy Turner, Allen Townsend, and everyone at Second Presbyterian for all their assistance and understanding during the whole project. It’s impossible to overestimate the value of providing “conditions favorable to organbuilding.”
—Stephen Sinclair

From the consultant
In 2004 I was engaged by the organ committee of Second Presbyterian Church, Nashville, to assist them in the search for an organ to replace the one they had lost when their church burned the previous year. They were interested in an organ of good quality that would have the flexibility to support congregational singing, accompany the church’s choirs, and perform a reasonably wide range of styles of organ music. The plans for the new church building included approximately 300 seats, with organ and choir in a fairly spacious rear gallery and the promise of better-than-average acoustics. It was obvious that a building like this didn’t need an extremely large organ, and we were confident that they could find the right organ within their prescribed budget.
Church organist Nancy Turner and I set about gathering information from and about organbuilders in whom we were interested. Early on the name of Juget-Sinclair surfaced. I had once had an opportunity to play one of their excellent 3-stop practice organs, but that was the extent of our knowledge of their work. However, the reports we got from people who knew their instruments were so promising that we decided to investigate further. After trips to see and play Juget-Sinclair organs in Birmingham, Alabama, and Hickory, North Carolina, the committee was convinced that this was what they wanted, and a contract was soon signed for the organ.
The result is an instrument of first-rate quality. The early reports that we got on Denis Juget and Stephen Sinclair’s work had been correct: they do whatever it takes to “get it right.” The organ is a real jewel in its setting, and it does all the things that the organ committee had hoped for, i.e., it supports congregational singing (the congregation sings enthusiastically), it offers flexibility in choir accompaniment, and it plays a wide range of organ literature very convincingly. It’s also a very responsive instrument, one that encourages the player in the best of ways.
It seems to me that the good organs of the world share several important characteristics, namely, a captivating, sometimes dramatic sound resulting from good pipe scaling and voicing, an attractive visual element, a reliable and responsive mechanism, and a cohesive sense of style. Juget-Sinclair has managed to achieve all of this in this modest organ. It was a pleasure working with them.
—John Brock

Grand-Orgue
8′ Montre
8′ Flûte à cheminée
4′ Prestant
4′ Flûte conique
2′ Doublette
11⁄3′ Fourniture IV
8′ Trompette

Récit expressif
8′ Bourdon
8′ Viole de gambe
8′ Voix céleste
4′ Principal
4′ Flûte douce
22⁄3′ Nazard
2′ Flûte
13⁄5′ Tierce
2′ Plein jeu IV
8′ Basson-Hautbois

Pédale
16′ Soubasse
8′ Flûte ouverte
4′ Octave
16′ Trombone

Couplers: II/I - I/P - II/P
Tremblant Récit

Juget-Sinclair Organbuilders
2250, rue Pitt, #307
Montreal, QC H4E 4H1

514/932-9898
www.juget-sinclair.com

Gregory Peterson

Gregory Peterson is Assistant Professor of Music and College Organist at Luther College, Decorah, Iowa, where he teaches organ and church music, conducts the Luther Ringers, and serves as cantor to the student congregation for daily and Sunday chapel services in the College’s Center for Faith and Life, playing the 42-stop mechanical-action organ by Robert Sipe. He holds the DMA from the University of Iowa, MM from the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, and the BA from Luther College. An active recitalist, he has performed in Europe and throughout the United States. He is represented by Concert Artist Cooperative, .

Start with two world experts on French organ building and organ music, add seven qualified, eager American organists, stir them together with extant examples of the finest French organs, and let steep for a couple of weeks in the rich culture of Bordeaux and Epernay, France. This is the recipe for the Summer Institute for French Organ Studies (SIFOS). Since 1986, organ builder Gene Bedient of Lincoln, Nebraska and Jesse Eschbach, Professor of Organ and Chairman of the Keyboard Division at the University of North Texas School of Music, have teamed up to direct this biennial seminar. It is not your grandmother’s recipe for the typical European organ tour, however, where a large group travels from instrument to instrument with minimal opportunity to play. Instead, a select group of performers and scholars is given the chance to delve deeply into the appropriate repertoire for each instrument through masterclasses and individual practice time, culminating in a group recital, open to the public, at the end of each week.
Participants in this year’s course were Michael Chad Leavitt, student, Manhattan School of Music, New York; Gregory Peterson, Assistant Professor of Music and College Organist, Luther College, Decorah, Iowa; Patrick Allen Scott, student, University of Texas, Austin, Texas; Timothy Wissler, organist, children’s choir director, Cathedral of Christ the King, Atlanta, Georgia; Marilyn Witte, Cantor, Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd, Lancaster, Pennsylvania; and Andrew Yeargin, student, Manhattan School of Music, New York. Elaine Mann, director of music, Grace Lutheran Church, Eau Claire, Wisconsin, joined the group for the second week.

First week
Sainte-Croix Church, Bordeaux
The group gathered on Sunday, May 24, in Bordeaux, a cosmopolitan port city on the Garonne River approximately 300 miles southwest of Paris. With a population of one million, Bordeaux is the seventh largest metropolitan area in France and is the capital of the Aquitaine region and a major wine-producing center. This beautiful, historic city was described by Victor Hugo as a combination of Versailles and Antwerp. Lectures, masterclasses, practice sessions, and the public recital took place at the Sainte-Croix Church, on the site of a 7th-century abbey. The current structure with its Romanesque façade was built in the late 11th to early 12th centuries and boasts a magnificent organ from 1741 by Dom Bédos, meticulously restored in 1997 by the French organ builder Pascal Quoirin. Every aspect of the instrument—winding system, key and stop action, pipe restoration and replacement, casework—was restored with the utmost care and concern for historical accuracy. This famous instrument is known throughout the city and is a source of much local pride. It was not uncommon to hear “Oh, the Dom Bédos” exclaimed by a local after being introduced as an organist visiting the city.

Dom Bédos five-manual organ
A unique aspect of the five-manual Dom Bédos instrument at Sainte-Croix is the 32′ plenum of the Grand-Orgue. The 32′ Bourdon lays the foundation for the searing Grand Plein-Jeu of this post-classical organ, building up through the 16′ Montre, 8′ Montre and Second 8′ Montre, Prestant, Doublette, Grosse Fourniture and Grand Plein-Jeu of 13 ranks. In addition to the customary Nazard and Tierce, there is a Gros-Nazard of 51⁄3′ and a Grosse Tierce of 31⁄5′, a late addition to the French Classical organ, after 1690. The Grand Cornet, two 8′ Trompettes and the Clairon complete the division. The Positif de Dos, based on an 8′ Montre, contains the usual plenum, mutations, and Cromorne. In addition, there is an 8′ Trompette, Clairon and Voix Humaine. The third manual contains the Bombarde 16′ and Gros Cromorne 8′. According to Gene Bedient, this could be the first Bombarde division in France, as there was not much use of this division before 1750. The Récit is a short keyboard of 32 notes, with a Cornet V and Trompette 8′. This chest has the expressive Tremblant doux and raucous Tremblant fort. The Echo is also a shorter keyboard of 39 notes containing a Cornet V. The pedalboard is extended down to F, known as the ravalement for exciting, thunderous pedal effects from the Bombarde 16′ and first and second Trompettes. The division also contains a Clairon, 16′ Flûte, 8′ Metal Flûte, 8′ Wooden Flûte, and Flûte 4′. Shove couplers allow the Positif and Bombarde to be coupled to the Grand-Orgue. All of this—plus a generous acoustic of four to five seconds’ reverberation—made for a most satisfying performance of repertoire selected by Jesse Eschbach, including excerpts from François Couperin’s Messe pour les couvents (Kyrie, Elevation–Tierce en taille and Offertoire); the Tierce en taille, Basse de Trompette and Grand jeu from Livre d’Orgue of Pierre DuMage; En taille, Fugue [à cinq], Récit de Cromorne and Dialogue sur les Grands Jeux from Veni Créator by Nicolas de Grigny; and two Noëls by Jean-François Dandrieu, Il n’est rien de plus Tendre and Allons voir ce divin Gage.

Lectures and masterclasses
An anteroom in the gallery, containing an historical exhibit with large posterboard illustrations from L’Art du Facteur d’Orgues by Dom Bédos, provided sufficient space for the daily morning lectures. Gene Bedient covered wind systems and key action in classical French organ building, as well as pipework, tonal issues, and temperament in the 17th and 18th centuries. Under his guidance, participants were able to crawl into the immaculately clean case and hand-pump the organ’s six bellows. It was interesting to note the subtle change in the organ’s sound when hand-pumped as opposed to using the electric blower. And it was quite an aerobic workout to boot!
Jesse Eschbach lectured on French post-Classical style and registration in France pre-1665 and 1665–1710. There was much fascination with the Grosse Tierce 31⁄5′ and its musical application. It was used for the bass or left hand, combined with the 16′ Bourdon and 8′ flute. Professor Eschbach also addressed the use of notes inégales and ornamentation, pointing out that ornamentation is a product of what the organ will invite, depending upon which division is being played, how much air is in the pipe channel, the registration, and acoustics, as well as the performer’s bon goût. The correct use of ornamentation in French music can often bring fear and trepidation to the performer. Professor Eschbach’s helpful explanation encouraged spontaneity and improvisation as a way to bring local surface detail to the performance. Multiple handouts enhanced the lecture material. Dr. Eschbach’s knowledge and passion for this music was also in evidence during each of the late morning masterclasses, where his expert teaching motivated everyone to move ahead in their interpretation and understanding, resulting in a stylistically informed and aesthetically pleasing recital.
Pentecost is celebrated as a national holiday in France, and it was fortuitous that the birthday of the Christian Church fell on the weekend between the first and second weeks of this summer’s institute. Most participants headed to Paris for the weekend, braving the crowded trains to take advantage of festival Masses at major churches in the capital, especially Notre Dame, Sainte-Clotilde and Saint-Sulpice.

Second week
Church of Notre Dame, Epernay
Nestled in the verdant hills of the Champagne region, the “Champagne City” of Epernay (population 25,000) was the site for the second week of lectures, masterclasses, and the recital. Located on the left bank of the Marne River about 17 miles southwest of Reims, Epernay is home to two magnificent organs by the celebrated 19th-century French builder Aristide Cavaillé-Coll. Classes and the recital took place at the Church of Notre-Dame, an imposing structure begun in 1898 and completed in 1915. Bombardment on the night of July 24, 1918 caused considerable damage to the nave. Rebuilding was not completed until April 1925. This building replaced a 16th-century edifice that was demolished due to severe collapsing.

Cavaillé-Coll organs
The 1869 Cavaillé-Coll instrument was moved into the rebuilt church and is housed in the north transept of the cruciform nave with 34 stops distributed over three manuals and pedal.
Grand-Orgue
16′ Bourdon
8′ Montre
8′ Bourdon
8′ Violoncelle
4′ Prestant
2′ Doublette
Plein-jeu harmonique
16′ Basson
8′ Trompette
4′ Clairon
Positif
8′ Quintaton
8′ Salicional
8′ Unda Maris
4′ Flûte douce
2′ Doublette
1′ Piccolo
8′ Clarinette
8′ Trompette
Récit expressif
8′ Flûte traversière
8′ Viole de gambe
8′ Voix céleste
4′ Flûte octaviante
2′ Octavin
8′ Trompette
8′ Basson-Hautbois
8′ Voix Humaine
Pédale
16′ Contrebasse
8′ Basse
4′ Flûte
16′ Bombarde
8′ Trompette
4′ Clairon

The dedication recital was given by Alexis Chauvet and Charles-Marie Widor on December 2, 1869. The organ was restored in 2001 by Bernard Hurvy.
SIFOS participants also had use of an 1897 Cavaillé-Coll instrument at the Church of Saint-Pierre et Saint-Paul. Also three manuals and pedal, this later instrument has a few more mutations and small pipes, perhaps showing the influence of Alexandre Guilmant. Both instruments are typical in the layout of the tirasses, ventils and coupler pedals, and employ a Barker machine, the pneumatic lever to assist the playing action of the coupled Grand-Orgue, developed by Charles Barker and first used to great success by Cavaillé-Coll in his 1841 instrument at Saint-Denis, Paris.

Lectures and masterclasses
Cavaillé-Coll was a disciple of Dom Bédos, evidenced by his well-annotated copy of L’Art du Facteur d’Orgues. The lectures during this week by Gene Bedient brought forward the connections between these two significant builders and covered the innovations and mechanics that are the hallmark of the 19th-century French organ. Jesse Eschbach lectured on “Rousseau, Revolution, and Restoration: An Overview of Cultural and Political Influences in France Affecting Sacred Music in the Nineteenth Century,” “Post Classical French Organ Registration from Dom Bédos to Georges Schmitt,” and the concept of plenum in nineteenth-century France. The masterclasses again centered on selected repertoire including César Franck’s Grande Pièce Symphonique, op. 17 and Prélude, Fugue et Variation, op. 18, Marcel Dupré’s Prélude et Fugue en Sol Mineur, op. 7, the Adagio from Louis Vierne’s Troisième Symphonie pour Grand-Orgue, Pastorale from the Première Sonate en Ré Mineur, op. 42 by Alexandre Guilmant, and “Tu es petra” from the Esquisses Byzantines by Henri Mulet. The resulting recital was a thrilling conclusion to the week and a testament to the enduring legacy of this music as an outgrowth of the partnership between artisan and artist.

French culture
Of course, no time spent in France would be complete without a total immersion into the food and wine that is the sine qua non of French culture. After working hard each day, participants enjoyed festive repasts at gourmet restaurants carefully selected by Gwen and Gene Bedient. As with organ registration, there is great variety in French cuisine, adventurously sampled by all participants, adding to the collegial camaraderie permeating the institute.
Is it possible to say that an organist has not lived without hearing the thrilling Grand Plein-Jeu of Dom Bédos or a beguiling Cavaillé-Coll harmonic flute? The Summer Institute for French Organ Studies is a rich, cultural and musical immersion. Try it. It will transform your playing and teaching—perhaps even your life. To learn more about the Summer Institute for French Organ Studies and plans for the 2011 Institute, visit the Bedient Organ Company website at www.bedientorgan.com.

 

John Bishop

Thar she blows!

I know I share with many organbuilders the sense that the organ is alive. Stand inside an organ chamber when the blower is off and all is silent—unliving. Turn on the blower. The reservoirs fill, the swell shutters give a little twitch, and the instrument seems to quiver expectantly, ready to sound. We normally don’t notice air. We don’t bump into it when we walk. We don’t feel its resistance when we gesture with our hands. But we do notice it when it’s in motion—we call that wind. Reflecting on the nature of wind, we typically refer to blowing wind, as in “it’s blowing a gale out there.” But a sailor knows that the effect is often just the opposite. If there’s a low pressure cell up north, all the high pressure air south of us rushes by to fill the gap. The wind is caused by air being drawn, not blown. Another interesting case is the classic sea breeze that occurs when coastal land is heated by the midday sun causing updrafts. You can’t have a vacuum without an enclosure, so when all that air rushes skyward, the cooler air over the water rushes ashore to take its place. Again, the wind is caused by air being drawn.
Wind n. 1a. Moving air, especially a natural and perceptible movement of air, parallel to or along the ground. b. A movement of air generated artificially, as by bellows or a fan . . .1 The organ is all about wind—air in motion. Because the organ and the piano have similar keyboards, many people assume that they are a lot alike. In fact, they could hardly be more different. The tone of the piano is created by a hammer striking a metal string. The vibration of the string creates the sound, the length and tension of the string determine the pitch, and the impact of the hammer causes the attack. The fact that a great pianist can produce cascades of notes without the sensation of hammering is at the heart of the art—the art of both the instrument and the player. I’ve often marveled during piano performances when a scale or arpeggio gives the impression of falling water rather than hundreds of hammers hitting strings. Here the art surpasses the mechanical—or the mechanical enables the art.
In nature, wind is caused by air being drawn. Of course, the wind in a pipe organ emanates from a blowing device, usually a rotary blower. But when I play, I think it’s fun to imagine the air as being drawn out from the top of the organ’s pipes, originating in my body, leaving my fingertips to make the sound. That imagined sensation is the heart of the player’s phrasing. Remember your teacher encouraging you to breathe with the music? Once again the art surpasses the mechanical. The huge mechanical entity that is the pipe organ in effect vanishes, leaving only the player and the sound of the music.
The sound of the organ is produced by columns of air vibrating in the organ’s pipes—or in the case of a reed stop, by the vibration of a brass reed or tongue. The physical production of those sounds is analogous to the flute whose sound is produced by the player blowing across an open hole (like the top of a bottle), or a clarinet whose sound is produced by the vibrating reed. Whether you are vibrating a column of air by splitting a sheet of air against the edge of a hole or with a vibrating tongue, you need air in motion to do it.
We measure organ air pressure in inches using a manometer. In its simplest form, a manometer is a U-shaped tube filled with water so the level of the water is even on both sides of the tube (gravity does a good job of leveling). When you apply air pressure to one end of the tube, the water in that end is blown down forcing the other side up and you use a ruler to measure the difference. If an organbuilder forgets to bring a manometer to a job, he can make one using flexible plastic tubing as found in a fish tank, a rough piece of wood, and a few staples.
The other measurement we take of organ air is volume—considered as a factor of an amount of air in a specified period of time. In the case of a pipe organ it’s meaningless to say, for example, 1,000 cubic feet of air, because when described that way our thousand cubic feet is sitting still and won’t make a peep. Instead we say 1,000 cubic feet per minute (CFM), which describes a volume of air in motion. And, 1,000 CFM doesn’t mean much unless you also assign a pressure value. So you might purchase an organ blower that can produce 2,000 CFM at 4? WP. That would be adequate for an organ of about 25 stops with low wind pressure. If you needed 2,000 CFM at 10? WP, you would need a more powerful blower. Some organbuilders use the term windsick to describe an instrument in which the wind supply is not adequate for the job. Now you’re an expert.
I’m inspired to write about organ air by the engraving that hangs over my desk. It’s reproduced from L’Art du Facteur d’Orgues, the 18th-century French treatise on organbuilding written and illustrated by the good monk Dom Bedos de Celles—it depicts a large organ in cross-section. On the left side of the image, which is the back of the organ, there is a young gentleman working a set of three large manually operated multi-fold bellows. He walks down the row, pushing down each lever, in turn raising each bellows. The bellows are connected together with a tripping mechanism—when one nears empty, the next one starts to fall, and the young gentleman circles back around to fill the first again. He’s wearing a jacket with some 20 buttons, breeches that buckle at the knee, and stockings that cover his calves from the top of his buckled shoes.
Back then you couldn’t play a note on an organ without someone to pump. I imagine that there were plenty of very bored organ-pumpers. But remembering that mechanical or electric organ blowers are essentially a 20th-century invention—how many of us would have volunteered hours to pump while Buxtehude, Bach, Mendelssohn, Franck, or Widor was practicing? Maybe rival organists tried to infiltrate “enemy” organ lofts by embedding their choir boys in the other’s pumping squad: “What’s that Bach up to this week?”
The great Cavaillé-Coll organ in the church of St. Sulpice in Paris was built in 1862. It has about 100 stops—a very large organ by modern standards and downright huge for the days of hand-pumped organs. Charles-Marie Widor’s tenure as organist there started in 1870 and ended with his retirement in 1934 (he was hired as a temporary fill-in and never given a permanent appointment!), so we can assume that there was a magical Sunday when Widor played the organ for the first time supported by an electric blower. That must have been liberating for the organist.
When organs were pumped by hand, organists were acutely aware of how much wind they were using. The more stops you drew, the more air you used and the faster the pumper had to work. Surely more than one young gentleman quit in protest. Think of Bach’s pumpers dealing with those huge arpeggiated diminished chords midway through the Toccata in D Minor that start with bottom D of the pedalboard, the third biggest wind-consuming note of the organ. Imagine the master playing those soon-to-be famous chords with arms outstretched and head thrown back, reveling in the sonic experience, while the pumpers raced from bellows to bellows, trying to keep up with the demand: “Nice work,” he said, “here’s an extra ducat for your trouble.”
I have had personal experience with this phenomenon. At the time I graduated from Oberlin College I was working with an organbuilder in Ohio named Jan Leek, a wonderful man who was trained in the Netherlands and who shared his wealth of knowledge and experience with me. We restored a 19th-century organ in a church in Bethlehem, Ohio—a project that included the restoration of the original hand-pumping equipment. Garth Peacock, a member of Oberlin’s organ faculty, played the dedication recital, which included some pieces and a hymn to be played with the organ pumped by hand—and I was the pumper. The pump handle stuck out of the right-hand side of the organ case where pumper and player could see each other. As we got into the hymn, Peacock caught my eye and winked. He drew stop after stop, filled in manual chords, then added doubling in the pedals, using all the wind he could, chuckling as I flailed the pump handle up and down. I know he did it on purpose.
My other favorite organ-pumping story happened after I completed the restoration of the 1868 E. & G. G. Hook organ (Opus 466) for the Follen Community Church in Lexington, Massachusetts. That project also included the restoration of the hand-pumping gear, and more than one parishioner felt clever commenting that the organ could be played even during a power failure. And sure enough, one of the first times the restored organ was played in concert there was a power failure and someone from the audience volunteered to go forth and pump.
Those who know me well—and probably some casual acquaintances—know that I love the epic series of novels about the brilliant captains of the Royal Navy in the early 19th century, especially captains Horatio Hornblower (written by C. S. Forester) and Jack Aubrey (written by Patrick O’Brian). Many a turnpike toll-taker has chuckled as my lowering car window emits a hearty “belay there” (audio books have accompanied me for tens of thousands of miles of pipe organ adventuring). Both epics are full of musical allusions, such as when Captain Hornblower rounds Cape Horn in a gale after lengthy adventures in the Pacific, and the groaning of the timbers of his ship Lydia “swelled into a volume of sound comparable to that of an organ in a church.”2
Captain Jack Aubrey, an accomplished amateur violinist as well as a brilliant fighting sea captain, shared hundreds of evenings making music with his closest friend, the equally able cellist and ship’s surgeon (and prolific intelligence agent) Stephen Maturin while traveling through 360º of longitude and twenty novels. Their evening concerts (typically enhanced with toasted cheese and marsala) pepper the active story with allegory while giving the reader a chance to understand the musical tastes of the day. It’s a delight to read how these determined warriors reveled in playing chamber music or improvising on favorite melodies as they sail around the world. On several occasions they discuss the effect of all that damp salt air on their instruments, and Jack Aubrey is smart enough to leave his precious Amati violin at home, distinguishing it from his seagoing fiddle.
In Post Captain, the second book of the series, Captain Aubrey returns to shore at a dramatic and complicated moment in his life. Heavily in debt, badly wounded after a violent sea battle, and thrilled with his new promotion to post-captain as a result of his victory, he is confined to the Duchy of the Savoy in London, a sanctuary where debtors were protected from arrest. After learning the boundaries of the Savoy from his innkeeper, he goes out walking:

Wandering out, he came to the back of the chapel: an organ was playing inside, a sweet, light-footed organ hunting a fugue through its charming complexities. He circled the railings to come to the door, but he had scarcely found it, opened it and settled himself in a pew before the whole elaborate structure collapsed in a dying wheeze and a thick boy crept from a hole under the loft and clashed down the aisle, whistling. It was a strong disappointment, the sudden breaking of a delightful tension, like being dismasted under full sail.
“What a disappointment, sir,” he said to the organist, who had emerged into the dim light. “I had so hoped you would bring it to a close.”
“Alas, I have no wind,” said the organist, an elderly parson. “That chuff lad has blown his hour, and no power on earth will keep him in. But I am glad you liked the organ—it is a Father Smith.3 A musician, sir?”
“Oh, the merest dilettante, sir; but I should be happy to blow for you, if you choose to go on. It would be a sad shame to leave Handel up in the air, for want of wind.”
“Should you, indeed? You are very good sir. Let me show you the handle—you understand these things, I am sure . . . ”
So Jack pumped and the music wound away and away, the separate strands following one another in baroque flights and twirls until at last they came together and ran to the final magnificence . . . ”4

The next day while writing a letter to Stephen to share the news of his promotion, Captain Aubrey recognized the depth of his humor:
. . . in the Savoy chapel I said the finest thing in my life. The parson was playing a Handel fugue, the organ-boy deserted his post, and I said “it would be a pity to leave Handel up in the air, for want of wind,” and blew for him. It was the wittiest thing! I did not smoke it entirely all at once, however, only after I had been pumping for some time; and then I could hardly keep from laughing aloud. It may be that post-captains are a very witty set of men, and that I am coming to it.5
That reminds me of E. Power Biggs’s quip after recording Handel’s organ concerti in the 1950s with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra on the instrument that Handel played in St. James’ Church, Great Packington, Warwickshire, when he recalled “handling the handle Handel handled.” I’m long-winded today. I’ve got lots more to say about organ wind, and I’m running out of space. So join me here next month for Thar she blows—some more.

Juget-Sinclair Organbuilders,
Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Opus 32, St. Mark’s Episcopal
Church, St. Louis, Missouri
Designed by the architectural firm of Nagel & Dunn and built in 1938, St. Mark’s Church in the City of St. Louis is famous as an outstanding example of the Moderne style, noteworthy for its Art Deco detailing, including a complete set of stained glass windows designed by Robert Harmon and executed by Emil Frei Studios. The building, seating around 200, is shaped like a shoebox on its side and—surprisingly for a building of its size—has a reverberation period of around four seconds. The original organ, an 8-stop G. Donald Harrison Æolian-Skinner, Op. 979 of 1939, consisted entirely of principals and flutes. Though the plenum was very impressive for its size—Emerson Richards described it as “the biggest little organ in the world”—it had no strings, reeds, or solo stops, and the balances between the manuals were very poor. By the early 2000s it was in urgent need of restoration.
In deciding what to do about the organ, the congregation found itself faced with a serious difficulty. The choir loft, the only practical position for a pipe organ in the building, is extremely shallow, and in order for the choir and organist to be able to get up the stairs into the gallery, the depth of the organ at the level of the gallery floor had to be restricted to a little over four feet. Furthermore, the west window is an extremely fine one, and it was unthinkable that the organ should obscure it. This meant that although there was some room for expanding the Great and Pedal divisions of the Æolian-Skinner to include reeds, strings, and solo stops, there was no way that the Swell could ever be enlarged, and this in turn meant that any enlargement would result in an even more poorly balanced instrument than before. While the vestry was wondering what to do about this, the church was most fortunate to receive a substantial legacy from the late Ruth E. Proehl, making possible the replacement of the organ by an entirely new one.
In 2005 the vestry appointed an organ committee composed of my wife, the Rev. Dr. Lydia Agnew Speller, rector; Robert S. Mullgardt, organist and choirmaster; and seven others. No fewer than five organists were members of this committee, including one who was also an architect and another, me, who was also an organ builder. Though unusual, having a committee composed of so many extremely well-informed and opinionated individuals is something of a two-edged sword, and the vestry wisely appointed Barbara Owen to be the organ consultant so as to keep order. In practice, no referee was needed since, perhaps surprisingly, we found ourselves in remarkable harmony and agreement throughout—but we were glad to have Barbara Owen on the team, since her very practical advice proved to be an invaluable resource at many points in the process of selecting our new organ.
The organ committee made the decision quite early on to look for a mechanical action organ, and for the next two-and-a-half years members of the committee visited dozens of tracker-action instruments throughout Missouri, Kansas, Illinois, Massachusetts, and Tennessee. Our final choice fell upon Juget-Sinclair Organbuilders of Montreal, whose organs at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Wellesley, Massachusetts, and Second Presbyterian Church, Nashville, Tennessee, had impressed us as standing head-and-shoulders above any other instrument we visited. Juget-Sinclair proved an especially happy choice since Denis Juget, Stephen Sinclair, and the other members of their team showed themselves to be an exceptionally charming and interesting group of people with whom to work.
Juget-Sinclair came up with a brilliant solution to the church’s space problems. Like the old Æolian-Skinner, the new Juget-Sinclair organ is placed against the west wall of the church. By contrast with the old organ, a rather squat caseless organ that ran all the way across the church, the new instrument is divided in two cases, framing and showcasing Robert Harmon’s striking west window, The Massacre of the Innocents. The church is extremely lofty, and the new organ makes full use of the available height. Although the two cases are necessarily shallow at floor level, they are cantilevered out at impost level to accommodate a two-manual-and-pedal organ of twenty stops, more than we had thought possible.
The Grand-orgue occupies the south case above the impost, with the bellows beneath, and the Récit expressif occupies the north case, with the Pédale, including a full-length 16′ reed—which required a little mitering—underneath. The detached and terraced drawknob console is at the front of the gallery in the same position as the old one, and the trackers run under a new oak gallery floor between the console and the organ cases. The casework is of oiled solid quarter-sawn oak, with polished tin façade pipes drawn from the G.O. 8′ Montre and Pédale 8′ Principal. Much of the interior of the organ is also solid oak, as is most of the console, though the music desk is of burr maple inlaid with mahogany. The detailing of the console and cases makes use of Art Deco motifs found elsewhere in the building.
The church signed a contract with Juget-Sinclair at the end of 2007, and the installation and tonal finishing of the instrument took place between September and November 2009. The members of the Juget-Sinclair firm responsible for building Opus 32 were Robin Côté, François Couture, Dean Eckmann, Jean-Dominique Felx, Denis Juget, Céline Richard, Stephen Sinclair, and Jerome Veenendaal. The dedication took place at the Sunday Eucharist on November 22, when there was special music, and no fewer than six organists—all members of St. Mark’s—played the new organ.
The instrument has surpassed our wildest expectations. The many who have played it have included a number of very distinguished organists, and everyone who plays it comments on the excellent feel of the tracker action—personally I think it is the most comfortable organ I have ever played—and on how remarkable this is for a tracker with a detached console. Everyone also comments on the versatility of the organ, which though designed primarily with French Romantic repertoire in mind, manages also to be an excellent medium both for accompanying the Anglican liturgy and for playing Classical and Baroque organ music.
St. Mark’s is the third largest organ that the Juget-Sinclair firm has built. In spite of the less than perfect acoustics of their buildings, the two larger Juget-Sinclair organs at Wellesley (Op. 24) and Nashville (Op. 26) are both remarkable instruments. At St. Mark’s, however, equally fine tonal design and voicing design is coupled with excellent acoustics, resulting in a stunning sound such as might be expected from an instrument two or three times its size.
One Sunday morning a week or two after the organ was completed, I walked into the church and heard the strains of Bob Mullgardt playing the Franck
A-minor Choral. I did a double take. Was this St. Mark’s or was I listening to St. Sulpice? To help them in planning future instruments, the organ builders asked us to give them any feedback of an unfavorable kind coming from organists who play the St. Mark’s organ. So far we have been unable to oblige, since all the comments have been favorable.
A concert series featuring the new instrument was inaugurated with a dedicatory recital of music by William H. Harris, César Franck, W. A. Mozart,
J. S. Bach, Guy Bovet, and Marcel Dupré, given by Clive Driskill-Smith of Christ Church, Oxford, England, on April 18, 2010. If anyone would like to visit the organ, the organist and choirmaster, Bob Mullgardt, is always happy to welcome organists and others who contact him beforehand through the church office (314/832-3588).
—John L. Speller

Juget-Sinclair Organbuilders,
Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Opus 32, St. Mark’s Episcopal
Church, St. Louis, Missouri
20 stops, 23 ranks

Grand-orgue C–a3, 58 notes
8′ Montre
8′ Flûte à cheminée
4′ Prestant
4′ Flûte ouverte
2′ Doublette
11⁄3′ Fourniture IV
8′ Trompette

Récit expressif C–a3, 58 notes
8′ Bourdon
8′ Viole de gambe
8′ Voix céleste (TC)
4′ Principal
4′ Flûte douce
22⁄3′ Nazard
2′ Doublette
13⁄5′ Tierce
8′ Basson-Hautbois

Pédale C–-f1, 30 notes,
radiating and concave
16′ Soubasse
8′ Principal
4′ Octave
16′ Trombone

II/I I/P II/P
Tremblant Récit

Mechanical key action, electric stop action
1/9-syntonic comma temperament
Balanced swell pedal
Cuneiform bellows
3 inches wind pressure
10 General pistons, thumb and toe
6 thumb pistons to G.O.
6 thumb pistons to Récit
4 toe pistons to Pédale
Reversible pistons for the unison couplers, thumb and toe
Sequencer “forward” and “back” pistons, thumb and toe
General Cancel thumb piston
Combination Setter thumb piston
Solid-state combination action with 400 levels of memory
Photo credit: Stephen Sinclair

Taylor & Boody Organbuilders, Staunton, Virginia

Goshen College, Goshen, Indiana

About the organ.

Designing an organ for Rieth Hall at Goshen College was a
pleasure. The opportunity to place the organ in the traditional location, high
in the rear gallery, was ideal both visually and aurally. The form and
proportions of the hall, with its austere yet warm and inviting interior,
called the organbuilder to respond with similar clarity and restraint. The
ample height of the room suggested a plain, vertical configuration of the
instrument, on which natural light from the clerestory windows would fall
gently. Everything about the hall spoke of its solid construction and honesty
of materials, qualities that we strive to reflect in our organs. Likewise the
acoustical properties of the hall, so warm and reverberant and at the same time
intimate and clear, allowed the organ’s tone to develop freely without
being forced. The result is an endearing musical instrument that is
aesthetically inseparable from the space in which it stands.

Initial inspiration for the Goshen case came from the organ
built by David Tannenberg in 1774 for Trinity Lutheran Church in Lancaster,
Pennsylvania. While only the case and façade pipes of that lovely
instrument have survived, they constitute the finest example we have in our
country of south German case architecture from the 18th century.
Tannenberg’s use of the double impost, with its Oberwerk division
gracefully placed as a reflection of the Hauptwerk below, was typical of organs
in his native Saxony and Thuringia. Other exterior influences from that time
and place include the two swags that bracket the center tower, and the broad
lower case that supports the full width of the impost and omits the spandrels
common to earlier styles. Apart from its simple springboard moldings, the
Goshen case is relatively flat and plain by comparison with its historical
counterparts. Its only bold three-dimensional element is the polygonal center
tower. The small pointed towers in Tannenberg’s design are here merely
implied by the V-shaped arrangement of foot lengths in the tenor fields. The
use of six auxiliary panels to raise the smaller pipe feet above the impost
moldings adds interest to the design. The considerable height of the lower case
was determined by the need for a passageway over the 2-foot concrete riser
behind the organ. This height gave space between the console and impost for the
eventual inclusion of a small Brustwerk with several stops for continuo
accompaniment. Cabinets for music storage are built into the back on both sides
of the lower case.

Another aspect of the design reminiscent of 18th-century
south German traditions is the position of the windchests in relation to the
action. The two windchests of the Hauptwerk are spaced apart from the center of
the case by the width of the keyboards. This leaves room for trackers of the
Oberwerk to reach their rollerboard without blocking access to the Hauptwerk
action and its pallets. It also provides optimum space for 8’ bass pipes
at the sides and leaves room for tuning the tenor pipes of the Hauptwerk with
only minimal obstruction by the Oberwerk rollerboard. The windchests for the
Pedal are located behind the case at the level of the impost, a placement that
Tannenberg could also have used.

Both the playing action and stop action are mechanical. The
manual keys are hinged at the tail and suspended from their trackers. There are
no thumper rails to hold the keys down, so they are free to overshoot slightly
when released, as is the case in traditional suspended actions. Trackers,
squares and rollers are all made of wood. There is no felt in the action. Keys
are guided by pins at the sides. Together these details combine to give a
feeling of buoyancy and liveliness reminiscent of antique instruments. The aim
is not so much to provide a light action as to arrive at one having the mass
and friction appropriate to the size and character of the organ. Such an action
may need occasional minor adjustment of key levels with changes in humidity,
but this is a small price to pay for the advantages gained over more sterile
modern alternatives. 

Wind is supplied by two single-fold wedge bellows (3’ x
6’) fed by a blower located in a small room below the organ. Natural
fluctuations of the wind pressure in response to the playing contribute to the
lively, singing quality of the organ’s sound. A wind stabilizer can be
engaged when unusually heavy demands on the wind system call for damping of
these fluctuations. The organ’s single tremulant is made in the old-fashioned
beater form. On seeing a tremulant puffing away in one of our organs, a
Japanese friend remarked that the organ was laughing! It is useful to think of
an organ’s wind as its breath and the bellows as lungs, for the
instrument’s appeal is closely tied to our perception of its lifelike
qualities. 

The tonal character of an organ is rarely revealed by its
stoplist. This is particularly true in an instrument of only twenty-four stops.
Once the builder accepts the constraints of a given style and the essential
registers have been chosen, there is usually little room or money left to
include stops that would make a modest design appear unique on paper.
Fortunately for the art, the musicality of the organ is not bound by its
stoplist; rather, it is determined by a host of other complex factors. These
can be partially defined in the technical data of pipe scaling and
construction, general design parameters, materials and the like, but in reality
much more rests on the elusive criteria of experience, skill and taste of the
builder. Taken together this means that each new organ, albeit small, presents
fresh opportunities for artistic expression. It is important that all the pipes
speak promptly, be they reeds or flues, except in the case of strings, which
gain charm from their halting speech. It is less important that the pipes
produce precisely the same vowel sounds from note to note, for here variety
adds refreshing character and interest to the organ.

At Goshen we chose to voice the 8’ Principal to be
somewhat brighter and richer in overtones than has been our wont. This was
achieved by giving the pipes lower cutups than was customary in German and
Dutch organs of the 17th century and before. The five distinctly different
8’ flue stops on the manuals deserve special mention. Although all
followed scaling patterns we have used frequently in the past, when voiced they
proved to be unusually satisfying, particularly in combination with each other.
Whenever the 16’ Bordun is used with them a magical new dimension is added
to the sound. If, for example, one draws the Bordun with the Viol da Gamba, the
effect is that of a quiet 16’ Principal. Used with the Spillpfeife the
Bordun reverts to its role as a flute. In an organ of this size it is crucial
that every stop work as well as possible with every other. Following south
German practice, both 8’ and 4’ flutes on the Hauptwerk are made in
the same form. This duplication of flutes within the same family was not the
custom in the north, where lower pitched flutes were usually stopped and those
above them progressively more open. The Oberwerk configuration at Goshen with
its two stopped 8’ registers and partially open 4’ Rohrflöte is
typical of the northern tradition. We look forward to the day that the 16’
Violonbass with its cello-like speech can be added to the Pedal.
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 

The distinctive musical effect of the Goshen organ is
strongly colored by the use of the recently released Bach-Lehman temperament
described in the accompanying article. Because the completion of the organ in
February coincided with the publication in Early Music of Bradley
Lehman’s treatise on J. S. Bach’s temperament, we chose to tune the
organ according to his plan. Here was the ideal opportunity to try the
temperament on an organ built in Germanic style and at the same time to honor
Dr. Lehman as a distinguished Goshen alumnus for his work in this field. The
experiment has been a fascinating one. It has provided a place to hear
Bach’s organ music as we have not heard it before. We are honored to have
played a part in translating the dry mathematical numbers of this temperament
into the vibrant sound of the organ. 

With few exceptions the many parts of the organ were
constructed from raw materials in our Virginia workshop. Through the skills of
each craftsman the design moved from an idea to paper and then through raw wood
and metal into a large and impressive object. Note by note the tonal picture
has been filled in by voicing and tuning until in the end we experience a new
instrument with an identity all its own. We hope that it will give pleasure to
those who play and hear it far into the future.

--George Taylor

The organ project at Goshen College

“Dienlich, Ordentlich, Schicklich, Dauerlich”

In 1999 we were asked by the organ consultant for Goshen
College, Roseann Penner Kaufman, to make a proposal for the new Goshen College
Music Center. As with any new project, I went to Goshen full of excitement at
the promise of participating in what was to be a spectacular project. My
enthusiasm was short-lived when I saw the design for the recital hall. It was a
standard fan-shaped, sloped-floor, small college recital hall, with theatre
seats and carpet in the aisles. The space for the organ was planned in a niche
at the back of the stage. The design would have been fine for small chamber
recitals, but it was not a proper home for an organ. The prospects for the
organ looked bleak. We would not have felt productive or inspired. We always
say that the room is more than half the organ. I took a deep breath and told
the Goshen committee what I thought of the plan. The committee listened and
asked us to offer suggestions on how the recital hall might be designed to work
best with the musical programs envisioned for this space.

I returned to Staunton eager to develop a plan. One of the
first things I did was to research the Mennonite Quarterly Review for articles
describing historical Anabaptist worship spaces. I hoped that the essence of
these rooms would lead me to an aesthetic that would tie the new hall to the
old tradition, which would, in turn, also be good for music, especially the
organ. My research acquainted me with four German words used to express the
qualities of the historical spaces: dienlich, ordentlich, schicklich and
dauerlich--serviceable, orderly, fitting and lasting. I also found prints
of the interiors of some of these churches. Rectangular in shape with open
truss timber roof framing, clear glass windows, galleries on several sides,
rough stone floors, moveable chairs, unadorned, honest and powerful, these
spaces had all the qualities that I was looking for. They also had enduring
musical-acoustical qualities and so many are used today for concerts.

The simple sketch that I made went first to the Goshen organ
committee who, led by Doyle Preheim and Chris Thogersen, embraced the plan.
Then the concept went to Rick Talaske and his team of acousticians. They
transformed the plan into practical geometry and surface treatments to make the
space an acoustical success. Mathes Brierre Architects took the acoustical plan
and translated it into a visual design that evokes the warehouse or
brewery-turned-church concept of the early Dutch Mennonite spaces. Schmidt
Associates worked through the technical details with Casteel Construction to
conceive the simple pre-cast concrete panels and graceful curved steel arches
that make the hall appealing in its architecture, superior in acoustical
performance and straightforward and durable in construction. There was creative
and sensitive work done by a Goshen group concerned with decor and furnishings.
The result is successful beyond our expectations. The collaboration of all the
partners made the project exceed the ability of any one of us.

Once the hall was underway, we scheduled a meeting at St.
Thomas Fifth Avenue in New York with a group from Goshen and Calvin and Janet
High from Lancaster, Pennsylvania. We had a great day in New York showing
everyone our organ in the gallery of St. Thomas. The Highs’ enthusiasm
for the St. Thomas organ and the Goshen Music Center paved the way for their
generous gift that underwrote the cost of the organ.

We realized that the floor area of Rieth Hall was small in
relation to the height. We saw that if there could be the addition of one more
bay to the length there would be significant improvement in the proportions of
the space and at least 50 more seats could be added. Again, the Goshen design
group supported our suggestion. At a time in the project when the building
committee was attempting to control costs and squeeze performance out of every
dime, they found the funds for this most important late addition.
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 

I predicted at the time we were creating the designs for
Rieth Hall, that the unique qualities of this space would have something to say
to the Goshen students about music and worship. This prediction has been
realized. First, there is genuine enthusiasm for a cappella singing in Rieth
Hall, encouraging this wonderful Mennonite tradition. Second, there has been a
spontaneous seizing of the space by the students for their own student-directed
Sunday worship. In this age of searching for the right path in worship and
liturgy, of debating the influence and appropriateness of mass media and
popular music for worship, we have built something at Goshen College that
reaches across the span of time to those Mennonite roots. Led by the seemingly
old-fashioned qualities of dienlich, ordentlich, schicklich and dauerlich, we
have made a  music space and organ
that inspire and excite us to make music and to celebrate and serve our God and
Creator.

Wood and the Goshen organ

The traditional pipe organ is a wooden machine. Early on in
our careers as organ builders we realized that getting control over our
materials in both an aesthetic and technical sense was essential to our success
as organ makers. Our first path was to make friends with our neighborhood
sawmillers. One of these was an octogenarian whose experience reached back to
horse logging and steam power. He taught us the value of long, slow, air-drying
of lumber. He also knew the old traditions of sawing, how to take the tension
out of a log, how to saw through the middle of the log and keep the boards in
order so that the cabinetmaker could match the grain. He remembered the methods
of quarter sawing that impart the most dimensional stability to the boards and
in oak bring out the beautiful fleck of the medullary rays. We have built our
own sawmill based on a portable band saw. For quarter sawing, we have built a
double-ended chain saw that can split logs up to 60 inches in diameter. The
half logs (or quarters in extremely large timber) are then aligned on our band
saw and sawn in a radial fashion into boards. This lumber is then air-dried for
a number of years. At the end, we put the wood in our dry kiln and gently warm
it up to stabilize the moisture content at 8% to 10%.

Oak is the traditional wood of Northern European organ
building so it was natural for us to choose white oak for the Goshen organ. We
have long admired the Dutch and German organs dating back to the 16th century.
The earliest organs show only the natural patina of age and no finish; the
concept of finishing wood as in varnishing or oiling came well into the 18th
century. We followed this earlier practice for the Goshen organ. The oak has
been hand-planed to a smooth polish, much smoother than can ordinarily be
produced with sanding. The hand-planed wood will resist dirt. We feel there are
also musical benefits from using wood in its natural state. The case and
carvings together with all the interior parts transmit sound energy and reflect
and focus the sound of the pipes. Also, the open pores and surface
imperfections of the natural wood have an effect on the sound reflection.

Another aspect of wood use in historic organs is how
efficiently the old builders utilized their wood. Before the age of machinery,
cutting, transporting and converting timber to sawn, dried lumber ready for use
was costly. The best wood was always used for the keyboards, playing action,
wind chests and pipes. The next selection went to the most visible parts of the
case, especially the front of the organ. The rest was used for carvings, heavy
structural members, walkways, bellows framework and back panels. Some of this
wood shows knots, cracks and other defects that might offend our modern sense
of perfection. However, in addition to demonstrating good wood utilization, the
varying density and differences in surface texture of these so-called defects
may indeed benefit the music. How we perceive the sound of an organ is a very
complex and subtle equation. This is one of the wonderful aspects of the real
pipe organ that differentiates it from the sterile sound of the electronic
substitute. We feel it is good stewardship to apply the hierarchy of selection
as practiced by the old masters. We try to use all the wood, through careful
selection, with thoughtful conservation of a vanishing resource.

--John Boody

Acoustic design of Rieth Recital Hall at Goshen College

In 1998, the design team of design architect Mathes Group
(now Mathes Brierre Architects), architect of record Schmidt Associates and
acoustician The Talaske Group (now Talaske) began preliminary work on a new
music education and performance building for Goshen College’s campus.
This project was the College’s greatest building investment to date and
they were determined to do things right . . . with a very modest budget. The
Recital Hall (now Rieth Recital Hall) was slated to house a new tracker organ
of exceptional quality. As acousticians, we offered some general planning
recommendations--not the least of which was a 50-foot ceiling
height--and recommended that the organ builder be hired as soon as
possible.

Enter John Boody of Taylor & Boody, organ builders from
Virginia. John energized the subsequent meetings with some profound advice that
proved to set the final direction for the space. He moved our thinking from a
“fixed” seating configuration to a flexible arrangement based on a
flat floor where seats can face either end of the room. This unique concept
facilitated the accommodation of a conventional “recital hall” or
assembly arrangement with musicians or presenters on a small stage. The cleverness
of the concept is the seats can be turned to face the opposite direction in the
room, offering a classic organ recital arrangement. Furthermore, John
recommended that the proportions of the room would be better served if
lengthened by adding another bay of structure. These fundamental planning ideas
changed the direction of the design in perpetuity.

We embraced these new directions yes">  and identified the many other room acoustics design features
that would support the client’s needs. The 50-foot ceiling height remained,
and we worked with the architects and construction manager to render the room
as a sound-reflective concrete enclosure, embellished with wood. The goal was
to maintain the warmth of sound created by the organ. Within the “theatre
planning” process, we guided and exploited naturally occurring
opportunities for introducing sound diffusing shaping to reflect low- and
mid-pitched sound in all directions--by introducing one side balcony and a
rear balcony, recesses from circulation paths and recesses created by
deeply-set windows. We recommended deliberate articulation of the walls to
diffuse mid- and high-pitched sound. Wood surfaces were detailed to minimize
absorption of low-pitched sound. Retractable velour curtains and banners were
recommended in abundance and specified by Bob Davis, theatre consultant.
Architecturally, curtain and banner pockets were created so the sound-absorbing
materials could be retracted completely on demand. These features make possible
a broad “swing” of the sound of the room from very reverberant for
choral and organ performance to articulate for assembly events or amplified
music performance. Fundamental to the acoustic design was the need for silence.
This was accomplished by structural discontinuities in the building (acoustic
isolation joints) and the proper placement and design of heating and air
conditioning systems.

Within their mission statement, Goshen College states:
“Musical expression is a human manifestation of the divine impulse and,
as such, serves as a window into the individual soul, a bridge between human
beings and a means of corporate religious experience.” In light of the
students adopting the Rieth Recital Hall for their weekly convocations and the
many other uses, we are pleased to say the happy story continues!

--Rick Talaske

Bach temperament

This organ is the first since the 18th century to use Johann
Sebastian Bach’s tuning, as notated by him in 1722 on the title page of
the Well-Tempered Clavier. This tuning method is a 2004 discovery by Bradley
Lehman. The article about this discovery is published in the February and May
2005 issues of Early Music (Oxford University Press), and further details are
at <www.larips.com&gt;.

The layout, dividing the Pythagorean comma, is:

F-C-G-D-A-E = 1/6 comma narrow 5ths;

E-B-F#-C# = pure 5ths;

C#-G#-D#-A# = 1/12 comma narrow 5ths;

A#-F = a residual wide 1/12 comma 5th.

In this tuning, every major scale and minor scale sounds
different from every other, due to the subtle differences of size among the
tones and semitones. This allows music to project a different mood or character
in each melodic and harmonic context, with a pleasing range of expressive
variety as it goes along. It builds drama into musical modulations.
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 

The result sounds almost like equal temperament, and it similarly
allows all keys to be used without problem, but it has much more personality
and color. In scales and triads it sounds plain and gentle around C major (most
like regular 1/6 comma temperament), mellower and warmer in the flat keys such
as A-flat major (most like equal temperament), and especially bright and
exciting in the sharp keys around E major (like Pythagorean tuning, with pure
fifths). Everything is smoothly blended from these three competing systems,
emerging with an emphasis on melodic suavity.

The following chart shows the relative size of each major
third, resulting from each series of the intervening four fifths. This system
of analysis is from the 1770s, published in the theoretical work of G. A. Sorge
who was a former colleague of Bach’s. The intervals having higher numbers
sound spicier, more restless. In this measurement, a value of 11 would indicate
a major third that is one syntonic comma too sharp (a “Pythagorean major
third,” having been generated by four pure fifths).
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  A pure major third would be represented
here as 0.

Bb-D    6
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             D-F#
    7
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             F#-A#
8

Eb-G    7
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             G-B
      5
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             B-D#
   9

Ab-C    8
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             C-E
       3
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             E-G#
   10

Db-F     9
             F-A
       3
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             A-C#
   9

Equal temperament, as opposed to the variety shown here, has
a constant size of 7 in all twelve of the major thirds.

In functional harmony, the Bach tuning sets up especially
interesting contrasts within minor-key music. The key of A minor has the
plainest tonic juxtaposed with the most restless dominant. F minor, a major
third away, has the opposite relationship: troubled tonic, calm dominant. And
C# minor has the average character between these behaviors, where the tonic and
dominant are both moderately energetic. 

In major-key music, the tonics and dominants have characters
similar to one another. The sizes of major thirds change by only 1, 2, or 3
units from each key to its neighbors, moving by the circle of fifths (through
typical subdominant/tonic/dominant progressions). Any change of Affekt is
therefore gradual and subtle, as if we never really leave the home key
altogether but it feels a little more or less tense as we go along.

In any music that modulates more quickly by bypassing such a
normal circle-of-fifths cycle, the contrasts are momentarily startling. That
is, the music’s dramatic harmonic gestures become immediately noticeable,
where the major thirds have changed size suddenly from one harmony to the next.
This comes up for example in the Fantasia in G Minor (BWV 542), Gelobet seist
du, Jesu Christ (BWV 722), and the fourth Duetto (BWV 805), and especially in
music by the Bach sons.

This system turns out to be an excellent tuning solution to
play all music, both before and after Bach’s. It is moderate enough for
complete enharmonic freedom, but also unequal enough to sound directional and
exciting in the tensions and resolutions of tonal music.

A recording will be ready for release this summer, including
music by Bach, Fischer, Brahms, et al.

--Bradley Lehman

A brief history of the organ in the Mennonite Church

Some people might find it unusual to find such a remarkable
organ in a Mennonite college. Aren’t the Mennonites those folks with the
buggies and suspenders? It is true that some Mennonite congregations still take
literally founder Menno Simons’ caution against the organ as a
“worldly” invention, but most, especially in the last fifty years,
have embraced it as a vital contributor to the musical and worship life of the
community. 

The Mennonite Church has its beginnings in the 16th-century
Protestant Reformation. Because of persecution, most of the early worship
services were held secretly, in homes or out-of-the-way places. Mennonites also
believed that the true church existed in small, simple gatherings; therefore,
it was uncommon for early Mennonites to even set aside a separate building for
worship. 

Two hundred years after the beginning of the movement,
churches in Germany and the Netherlands had grown to the point of meeting in
dedicated buildings, and by the 1760s several in urban areas had installed pipe
organs. It was another two hundred years, however, before organs became common
in the Mennonite conference that supported Goshen College. Even now, the organ
is not necessarily assumed to support congregational singing, but contributes
other service music. Organ study is now offered at all of the Mennonite Church
USA-affiliated colleges, and the new Taylor & Boody organ at Goshen will
certainly have a profound impact on the future of worship and organ study
throughout the denomination.

--Roseann Penner Kaufman

Roseann Penner Kaufman, DMA, is adjunct instructor in organ
at Bethel College, N. Newton, Kansas, a four-year liberal arts college
affiliated with the Mennonite Church USA. She also serves as director of music
for Rainbow Mennonite Church in Kansas City, Kansas. Dr. Kaufman served as the
consultant to Goshen College for their organ project.

Specifications for Opus 41

Hauptwerk

16' Bordun (C-D# wood, rest metal*)

8' Principal (77% tin)

8' Spillpfeife

8' Viol da Gamba (77% tin)

4' Octave

4' Spitzflöte

3' Quinte

3' Nasat

2' Superoctave

IV-V Mixtur

8' Trompet

Oberwerk

8' Gedackt (99% lead)

8' Quintadena

4' Principal (77% tin)

4' Rohrflöte

2' Waldflöte

II Sesquialtera

IV Scharff

8' Dulcian

Pedal

16' Subbass (wood)

(16' Violonbass) space prepared

8' Octave

4' Octave

16' Posaune (C-B wood, rest 99% lead)

8' Trompet (99% lead)

Couplers

Oberwerk / Hauptwerk

Hauptwerk / Pedal

Oberwerk / Pedal

Tremulant to entire organ

Mechanical key and stop action

Compass: manual 56 notes C-g''', pedal 30 notes C-f'

Lehman-Bach temperament

Interior metal pipes of hammered alloys

*All unmarked metal alloys of 28% tin, 72% lead

Case of solid white oak

Windchests of solid oak, pine & poplar

Number of pipes: 1604

Wind pressure: 75mm

Wind stabilizer

The builders

George K. Taylor

John H. Boody

Bruce Shull

Emerson Willard

Christopher A. Bono

Kelley Blanton

Chris A. Peterson

Sarah Grove-Humphries

Robbie Lawson

Jeffrey M. Peterson

Larry J. Damico

Holly Regi

Thomas M. Karaffa

Bob Harris

Katie Masincup

Ryan M. Albashian

Kristin E. Boo