Skip to main content

Historic Organ Study Tours

1739 Johann Christoph Wiegleb organ at St.  Gumbertus Church in Ansbach, Germany

Historic Organ Study Tours (HOST) announces its 2019 summer tour to southern Germany (Bavaria and Baden-Württemburg), August 20–29.

The tour begins in Munich and continues through Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Rothenberg ob der Tauber. Organs of the 17th century through the modern era are featured.

Tour leader is Michael Grüber, tour directors are Bruce Stevens and William T. Van Pelt.

For information: [email protected].

Related Content

Deltiology:1 an Early Twentieth-Century Postcard Tour of American Pipe Organs

Stephen L. Pinel

Stephen L. Pinel holds two degrees from Westminster Choir College, Princeton, New Jersey, and did graduate study in historical musicology at New York University. A church musician for forty-five years, he retired from full-time work in the fall of 2017, but immediately accepted another appointment as organist and choirmaster at All Saints Church, Bay Head, New Jersey. He held a Langley Fellowship at New York University, is a member of Pi Kappa Lambda Music Honor Society, an honorary member of the Organ Historical Society, and a past chair of the St. Wilfrid Club of New York City. He is the author of several books and regularly contributes articles on organ history both here and abroad.

Cathedral of St. John the Divine

In 1984, William T. Van Pelt, then the executive director of the Organ Historical Society, wrote in The Tracker: Concomitant to the popularity of photography at the end of the nineteenth century was the blossoming of picture postcards that fortuitously embraced organs and church interiors among a wide range of subjects. Cards provide the examples we need to study architectonics and the visual evolution of organs, as well as traits of contemporary builders and their instruments. In some cases, a card represents the only remaining record of an organ’s existence.2

An accomplished photographer, Van Pelt had an uncanny awareness of the pipe organ as an entity of visual art. Like fine furniture, painting, sculpture, or any other form of high art, organ cases designed by organbuilders are distinctive and have identifiable characteristics. Cognizant of their usefulness for study, Van Pelt challenged the members of the OHS to search local antique and book stores for postcards showing vintage pipe organs. By the time his article was prepared for publication, ten society members had submitted more than a hundred cards. Sixteen were chosen to illustrate the article.3 In the thirty-five years since his article appeared, hundreds of organ postcards have surfaced, showing a wide variety of instruments by dozens of American organbuilders.

For context, some fundamentals of postcards may be informative. Cards are usually printed on thick paper or thin cardboard and measure approximately 3½ by 5½ inches. An image appears on the front, while the back is bifurcated—a message is written on the left with the address on the right. When mailed, postcards usually have a lesser rate than first-class postage, so they are slightly less expensive to send. Cards are often used to convey short messages, share memories of distinctive locations, or advertise events. Postcards differ from postal cards—the latter refers to those “special” cards issued by the postal service with the “stamp” already in place. Only the post office can issue postal cards. During the first four decades of the twentieth century, postcards cost a penny to mail, and were often called “penny postcards.”

While a few postcards were issued during the nineteenth century, it was not until the United States Congress passed the Private Mailing Card Act of May 19, 1898, that private individuals, companies, vacation destinations, and ecclesiastical organizations were permitted to print and distribute postcards. Previously, the United States Post Office held the monopoly. The heyday of the postcard was between 1900 and 1945, and one has only to type “postcard” into eBay.com to locate tens of thousands of cards, covering every imaginable topic the world over. Postcards are inexpensive, highly collectable, and an entire subculture has evolved around them at “swap meets” and shows of ephemera. The research value of old cards is that the subject matter may have changed or disappeared,4 and the images they display are often not found elsewhere. Stated directly, postcards are primary source documents.

There were several types of postcards. The earliest, published during the period 1900 to 1910, had a small black and white image on the front, surrounded by a white border. The address was written on the back, and if a message was included, it had to be written on the front of the card beside the image. In March 1907, the “divided back” was unveiled. This allowed for the message and the address to be written on the back, but freed the entire front of the card for the image. By 1910, postcards began to be published in color and were immediately mass-produced in huge quantities. About 1930, “linen” post cards first appeared. Those were printed on card stock with high-rag content, but the pressing of a machine gave the impression that the image was printed on linen. The most desirable cards dating from the first decades of the twentieth century were actual photographs, published on photographic paper. Those cards frequently carry high-quality images in keen focus and are eagerly sought by collectors. The final type, called the “chrome” postcard, came into circulation about 1950. They are published from a color photograph and have a shiny, glossy finish. Chrome cards are the type most often found today in souvenir shops.5

There are many ways to identify and date postcards. Some images are fully identified on the card itself. Other clues may be deduced from the postmark, since a card was often mailed from its place of origin and a date usually accompanies the postmark. Obviously, the card must pre-date the postmark. Moreover, the image may offer clues to identify the card. Many of the pipe organs pictured on postcards during the first decades of the twentieth century were new when the cards were issued. Organs were expensive, and some organ cards were produced immediately after a new instrument was installed. A few cards actually declare: “Our new pipe organ!” Finally, the style of the stamp may help to narrow the date if the postmark is either faint or incomplete. The post office redesigned stamps every few years. The older cards usually have a one-cent “Franklin,” while by the second decade of the twentieth century it was a one-cent “Washington.”

American organbuilders soon realized the reward of using postcards for promotion. The Estey Organ Co. in Brattleboro, Vermont, the Votteler-Hettche Organ Co. in Cleveland, Ohio, and the Wicks Organ Co. in Highland, Illinois (among others), distributed organ postcards. They were an inexpensive way to advertise recent installations and simultaneously impressed prospective customers. Estey was especially prolific with this method of marketing: several dozen organ cards issued by the firm have been gathered over the years. Sometimes those cards represent an important historical record because the organs they illustrate are now lost to history.

Some postcard organs are well known. This card (Illustration 1) was mailed from New York City to West Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on April 20, 1929, and shows the interior of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine at 110th Street in New York City. The organ, Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 150, completed in 1910, is a huge, four-manual instrument of some 150 ranks6 and was dedicated by Clarence Dickinson (1873–1969) in April 1911. Since the card was issued, the organ has been renovated several times, notably under the direction of Ernest M. Skinner & Son in 1939, and by G. Donald Harrison (1889–1956) in 1953.7 The organ was restored in 2008 by Quimby Pipe Organs, Inc., of Warrensburg, Missouri.8 This spectacular vista, photographed from high in the cathedral, looks down at the chancel and choir. It shows the Skinner organ located on opposite sides of the chancel at the triforium level and provides a vivid impression of the enormity of the space.

Another famous postcard organ (Illustration 2) is the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. A large, four-manual instrument built by the Hutchings-Votey Organ Co. of Boston, the organ was opened on June 20, 1903, by a triumvirate of prominent organists: Henry Benjamin Jepson, Yale University; Wallace Goodrich, Trinity Episcopal Church, Boston; and Gaston M. Dethier, St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church, New York City.9 The organ had an early type of electro-pneumatic action designed by Hutchings employee Harry F. Van Wart. The success of the instrument earned its maker, Geo. S. Hutchings (1835–1913), an honorary Master of Arts degree from the university. The card was mailed from New Haven to Springfield Gardens, Long Island, New York, on September 10, 1910, only seven years after the organ was built. In 1915, the organ was greatly enlarged and renovated by the J. W. Steere & Son Organ Co. of Springfield, Massachusetts,10 and again in 1928 by the Skinner Organ Company.11 This circa 1908 postcard shows the original organ case before it was reworked in 1928.12

A few postcard organs (Illustration 3) had grandiose cases! This elegant example was mailed from Richmond, Virginia, to Lena, Indiana, on November 7, 1909, and shows a major, three-manual organ in the Catholic Cathedral of the Sacred Heart. It was built by John Brown (1851–1912) of Wilmington, Delaware, who opened his organ shop in 1887.13 Brown, an Englishman by birth, was in business for some twenty-five years and built many organs for congregations in the middle-Atlantic and southern United States. Located in the cathedral’s gallery with an opulent fan of radiating trumpet pipes, the case is reminiscent of the 1869 Geo. Jardine & Son organ at St. George’s Episcopal Church, Stuyvesant Square, New York City. Completed in August 1906, the Brown organ is described in detail in the Richmond Times-Dispatch, but its tubular-pneumatic playing action proved problematic.14 Only six years later, the organ was rebuilt by M. P. Möller as their Opus 1334, 1912, and the action was converted to electro-pneumatic. Later still, the organ was rebuilt again by the Tellers Organ Co. of Erie, Pennsylvania, and today, almost nothing of the original 1906 organ remains except for the front pipes. Noted historian Donald R. Traser wrote in 2002 that the organ was considered by Mr. Brown to be his masterpiece!15 

Some postcards show organs installed decades before. This card (Illustration 4), sent from South Hadley to Charlemont, both in Massachusetts, was mailed on October 6, 1910. It shows the interior of the Old South Church in Boston. Visible in the gallery is an 1822, two-manual organ by Thomas Elliot (1759?–1832), built in London. Henry Corrie (1786–1858), an English organbuilder, accompanied the instrument “across the pond” to superintend its installation.16 Following its opening on November 22, 1822, Corrie remained in Boston. After working briefly for Thomas Appleton (1785–1872), he settled in Philadelphia and became the leading maker of organs in that city between 1826 and 1850.17 The Old South organ was rebuilt by E. & G. G. Hook as their Opus 246, 1859, and the projecting keydesk, shown in the card, is the product of their renovation.18 An organ from the 1820s would have had a recessed keydesk with stopknobs arranged in vertical columns at the sides. The “new” Old South Church on Boylston Street had a three-manual organ by Hutchings, Plaisted & Co., Opus 58, 1875, and later still, a four-manual organ by Ernest M. Skinner Company, Opus 231, 1915. In 1876, the 1822 Elliot organ was moved second-hand to St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Milford, Massachusetts, where it survived until it was broken up for parts about 1955.19

A circa 1910 card shows a handsome 1872 instrument (Illustration 5) in the front of the Washington Street Methodist Episcopal Church in Petersburg, Virginia.20 The maker of the organ is unconfirmed, yet it appears to be the work of Geo. Stevens (1803–1894) of East Cambridge, Massachusetts. The case bears astonishing resemblance to the 1871 Stevens organ in the First Congregational Church, Rindge, New Hampshire.21 Stevens had worked for William Goodrich (1777–1833) and following the latter’s death, set up shop in partnership with William Gayetty (d. 1839). Stevens’s organs were characterized by fine workmanship and stately cases. Stevens built another organ for a Virginia client in 1861: a two-manual instrument for the Broad Street Methodist Episcopal Church in Richmond, installed just as the Civil War began.22 The Petersburg organ remained until it was replaced with a two-manual organ by the Estey Organ Co., Opus 1205, 1913, of Brattleboro, Vermont.

Yet another card shows the sumptuous interior of Trinity Church, Episcopal, in Watertown, New York, with its elaborate Gothic tracery. The organ (Illustration 6) is Johnson & Son Opus 856, 1898, a three-manual organ with thirty registers built in Westfield, Massachusetts.23 Visible in the image is a reversed console with the organ installed in a right-hand chamber beside the chancel. The installation was completed on March 29 and the organ was first used on Easter Day, 1898. It was later replaced by Skinner Organ Company Opus 457, 1924, and was moved second-hand to the Adirondack Community Church in Lake Placid, New York, where it was installed by Buhl & Blashfield, a Utica, New York, firm.24 Johnson & Son organs were of superb quality and were among the finer organs built in nineteenth-century America.

Three postcard organs were promotional materials issued by well-known American firms. The first (Illustration 7) was built by the Wicks Organ Co., Opus 8, 1909, for the German Ev. St. Petri Church, Okawville, Illinois. The second (Illustration 8) was the work of Votteler-Hettche of Cleveland, Ohio, and was installed in the First Methodist Episcopal Church, Petoskey, Michigan. The third instrument (Illustration 9) was built by the Estey Organ Co., Opus 505, 1907, a two-manual organ for the First Congregational Church, Chelsea, Massachusetts.

University organs are also occasionally represented. This card shows the interior of the auditorium at Valparaiso University in Valparaiso, Indiana. The organ (Illustration 10), built in 1907 by W. W. Kimball of Chicago, Illinois, was a gift of the alumni and was a large two-manual instrument with tubular-pneumatic action. The card was mailed from Valparaiso to Bridgeport, Connecticut, on October 5, 1911, and the message reads in part: “We attend chapel exercises in this place at 8:30 every morning. I have only missed two mornings as yet. We are nicely settled and like it very much.” The large piano on the stage looks like the work of Steinway & Sons! The Kimball organ was rebuilt by Hillgreen-Lane & Co. of Alliance, Ohio, in 1947 and was unfortunately destroyed with the building by fire on November 27, 1956.25

Occasionally, a postcard showing an organ was distributed for parochial purposes. This handsome card (Illustration 11) from the First Reformed Church in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, reminded recipients that a “Sunday School Rally Service” was to be held on Sunday, October 7, 1906, at 2 p.m. The organ in the image was dedicated by the noted blind organist, David D. Wood of Philadelphia, on Thursday evening, October 22, 1891.26 It was built by John W. Otto (1846–1892) of Baltimore, had two manuals and pedals, and cost $1,600.27. Otto was the brother of Louise Pomplitz (1836–1924), and at one time worked for the better-known firm, the Pomplitz Church Organ Co.

A postcard mailed from Port Huron, Michigan, to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, on October 2, 1913, is a fine example of a photographic card. The organ (Illustration 12), built by Hillgreen, Lane & Co., Opus 24, 1901, is an early instrument from the firm. The company was the partnership of Alfred Hillgreen (1859–1923), a Swedish immigrant, and Charles Alva Lane (1854–1933). Ultimately, three generations of the Hillgreen family built organs in Alliance, Ohio, between 1898 and 1973. The case shown here is unusually elegant and looks splendid in this turn-of-the century edifice. Note, in addition to the Methodist communion rail, that the choir has seating for almost fifty singers. That is a luxury not many of us enjoy today. The organ had two manuals with “pneumatic couplers”28 and was opened in recital by a Mr. N. Crawthorne and other artists on Friday evening, July 26, 1901.29

Another photographic card shows an organ (Illustration 13) in the Presbyterian Church of Pawnee City, Nebraska. Built in 1908 by the Hinners Organ Co. of Pekin, Illinois, the Hinners list states that the organ had nine registers. The Hinners Co. was known for its catalog organs. A congregation could order an organ through the mail, and the purchase included a set of directions so a member of the congregation could set up the organ! Many Hinners organs were located in rural locations in the Northern Plains, particularly in Nebraska and the Dakotas.30 

A third photographic postcard mailed from King Ferry, New York, on November 24, 1916, shows an organ (Illustration 14) in the Presbyterian Church built by Clarence E. Morey (1872–1935) of Utica, New York. The small, two-manual organ, his Opus 247, 1907, is recessed into an alcove at the front of the room, behind a raised pulpit platform. Visible in the cleanly focused image are only six stopknobs. Morey worked in Utica until his death in 193531 and built several hundred small organs for the rural churches of Upstate New York. His organs were well built, durable, and many still serve their congregations today after a century of use.32

Plenty of postcard organs are unidentified. Three interesting cards (Illustrations 15, 16, and 17) were never mailed and have no postmark or stamp. There is no indentifying information. If any reader of The Diapason recognizes any of those organs, the editor would be pleased to receive a letter with the details. Currently the largest collection of organ postcards is held by the Library and Archives of the Organ Historical Society at Stoneleigh in Villanova, Pennsylvania. The archivist there, Dr. Bynum Petty, would be pleased to receive donations of new cards.

Modern scholars and historians have had a tendency to dismiss postcards as trivial, but they remain a significant—and largely untapped—source of information for the study of early twentieth-century American pipe organs. For the evolution of case designs, they are essential. It is only by placing these images side by side that perceptive historians can note the common traits and the progression of style. The next time you pass a shoebox of old postcards in an antique or book store, take a moment to thumb through them. You might find the unique image of an old American pipe organ that is long gone.

Notes

1. Deltiology is the formal word for the collecting and study of postcards. Its etymology is two Greek words: deltion, a small writing tablet, and logy, to hew or to study. The word was first recognized by Merriam-Webster about 1965.

2. William T. Van Pelt, “Post Card Organs,” The Tracker, vol. 28, no. 3 (1984): 21–26.

3. Ibid. 

4. Maurice Rickards, The Encyclopedia of Ephemera: A Guide to the Fragmentary Documents of Everyday Life for the Collector, Curator, and Historian, s.v. “Postcards” (New York: Routledge, [c. 2001]): 249–50.

5. Ibid.

6. “Notes About Town. The new organ of the cathedral . . .,” The New York Age, vol. 24, no. 15 (January 12, 1911): 4.

7. The Great Organ at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine—Description, History, Condition—A Plan for Restoration ([New York, New York:], Cathedral of St. John the Divine, [1992]). 

8. Michael Quimby, John L. Speller, Douglass Hunt, and Eric Johnson, “Cover Feature. Resurgence of a Landmark Instrument. The Restoration of the Great Organ in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York City,” The American Organist, vol. 43, no. 11 (November 2009): 40–43.

9. Edward W. Flint, The Newberry Memorial Organ at Yale University: A Study in the History of American Organ Building (New Haven: Yale University Press; and London: Oxford University Press, 1930), 19; hereafter, Flint; and Joseph F. Dzeda, “Cover Feature. Newberry Organ Restoration Nears Completion,” The Diapason, vol. 107, no. 11 (November 2016): 26–28.

10. “Firm Rebuilding Big Yale Organ,” The Springfield (Massachusetts) Union, vol. 52, no. 307 (November 6, 1915): 3.

11. “Skinner Organ for Woolsey Hall, Yale University, New Haven, Conn.,” Stop, Open and Reed, vol. 5, no. 1 (September 1929): 18–19.

12. Flint, frontispiece.

13. “A Busy Organ-Tuner,” Wilmington (Delaware) Daily Republican, vol. 18, no. 95 (April 9, 1887): 1.

14. “Organ Specially Designed,” The (Richmond, Virginia) Times-Dispatch, No. 17,361 (October 28, 1906): 6; and “View in New Cathedral Showing Great Organ,” TD, No. 17,545 (April 29, 1907): 8.

15. Donald R. Traser, The Organ in Richmond: A History of the Organs, Organists, and Organ Music in Richmond, Virginia, from 1816 to 2001 (Richmond, Virginia: Richmond Chapter, American Guild of Organists. 2001): 92–94.

16. Hamilton Andrews Hill, History of the Old South Church (Third Church) Boston, 1669–1884 (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1890): 446–81.

17. Stephen L. Pinel, “Late from London: Henry Corrie, Organbuilder, and His Family,” The Tracker, vol. 40, no. 4 (1996): 11–23.

18. “Old South Church Organ,” Boston (Massachusetts) Evening Transcript, vol. 30, no. 8,839 (March 26, 1859): 1; and “New Organ at the Old South Church,” (Boston) Daily Evening Traveller [sic], vol. 3, no. 180 (May 2, 1859): 2.

19. “Letters to the Editor,” The Tracker, vol. 14, no. 2 (Winter 1970): 17. 

20. “New Organ Arrived,” The Petersburg (Virginia) Index, vol. 14, no. 31 (October 8, 1872): 5.

21. Organ Historical Society, Organ Handbook (1974): 44–45.

22. “Broad Street M. E. Church,” (Richmond, Virginia) Daily Dispatch, vol. 19, no. 57 (March 19, 1861): 2.

23. John Van Varick Elsworth, The Johnson Organs: The Story of One of Our Famous American Organ Builders (Harrisville, New Hampshire: The Boston Organ Club Chapter of the Organ Historical Society, 1984): 151.

24. Scot L. Huntington, Barbara Owen, Stephen L. Pinel, and Martin R. Walsh, Johnson Organs 1844–1898: A Documentary Issued on the 200th Anniversary of his Birth (Cranbury, New Jersey: The Princeton Academy of the Arts, Culture, and Society, 2015): 150.

25. Organ Historical Society, Organ Handbook (2002): 101.

26. “Organ Recital,” Carlisle (Pennsylvania) Daily Herald, vol. 6, no. 29 (October 23, 1891): 1.

27. “The Organ Accepted,” Carlisle (Pennsylvania) Weekly Herald, vol. 91, no. 42 (October 15, 1891): 3. 

28. “The McCormick Memorial: Fine New Organ First Heard in a Recital Friday Evening,” Port Huron (Michigan) Daily Times, vol. 30 (July 27, 1901): 5.

29. “First Recital on the Organ: Affair at the Methodist Church Last Night was a Great Success,” The (Port Huron, Michigan) Daily Herald, No. 305 (July 27, 1901): 3.

30. Allison Alcorn-Oppedahl, “A History of the Hinners Organ Company of Pekin, Illinois,” The Tracker, vol. 44, no. 3 (2000): 13–25. 

31. “Death Claims C. E. Morey, 63, Organbuilder,” Utica (New York) Observer Dispatch, vol. 14, no. 51 (June 21, 1935): 23; and “C. E. Morey, 63, Succumbs Here,” Utica Daily Press, vol. 54, no. 87 (June 21, 1935): 4.

32. T. L. Finch, “Organ Building in Upstate New York in the Nineteenth Century,” The Bicentennial Tracker (1976): 68–69.

 

Photo: Illustration 1: the interior of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, New York City, and Ernest M. Skinner Company Opus 150, completed in 1910 (All cards that accompany this article are from the author’s collection)

Programmatic considerations in Julius Reubke’s Organ Sonata on Psalm 94

David Lim

David Lim is a doctoral organ student at the University of Oklahoma, Norman, studying under Damin Spritzer and Adam Pajan, and previously studied at Gustavus Adolphus College, Saint Peter, Minnesota, and the University of Iowa, Iowa City. He is also director of music at Saint Philip’s Episcopal Church in Ardmore, Oklahoma, and a shop technician with Red River Pipe Organ Company, Norman, Oklahoma.

Julius Reubke

The Organ Sonata on Psalm 94 of Julius Reubke (1834–1858) is perhaps the best example of programmatic music in the organ repertoire—wholly unusual for a mid-nineteenth-century composition in multiple regards. Firstly, composers and performers exploited the expressive and virtuosic capabilities afforded by the piano. The use of the piano in solo and collaborative works was undoubtedly a hallmark of nineteenth-century composition. In contrast, relatively few major compositions for the organ were produced during this period. The Romantic perspective noted the “organ’s expressive and dynamic possibilities were deficient, falling far short of those of the piano . . . .”1 Just as the organ was the tenor2 of north-German keyboard literature of the eighteenth century, the piano was likewise in nineteenth-century composition. Secondly, period composers frequently used contemporary literary works as programmatic, extra-musical bases for their compositions.3 Ecclesiastical associations and the archaic nature of the organ were certainly not aligned with the growing secularization of the enlightenment and emphasis on innovation and modernity at the beginning of the industrial revolution.

Reubke’s substantial contribution of an organ composition based on a religious program was somewhat countercultural for the mid-1800s. This novelty provides a landmark, revolutionary composition in organ literature, demonstrating great sensitivity towards the program and virtuosity previously unseen. The piece reflects several important characteristics of Psalm 94, namely the personal and human perspectives of the psalmist and the literary structure of the psalm.

Several influences in Julius’s short life make his unusual organ sonata appear to be a natural outgrowth of his experience. His childhood was undoubtedly formative. Born in Hausneindorf, he was baptized and educated in the village’s Evangelical (Lutheran) Church and received instruction from the parish cantor. One can presume that education in religious matters was taught, though no sources cited mention curriculum. The village was insulated from the effects of the 1848 revolution.4

Julius was exposed to the cutting edge of music throughout his life. He was a child prodigy, having studied with many notable teachers, and quickly gained a reputation as a regarded pupil, performer, and composer. As the son of an organ builder, Julius was undoubtedly exposed to the organ world in his youth5 as his father, Adolf, was completing notable projects in the style of organ building prevalent at that time.

Reubke’s later studies with Franz Liszt (1811–1886) in Weimar coincided with Liszt’s development of the symphonic poem. His influence on the young Reubke was profound.6 Liszt began to realize, explore, and exploit the possibilities that modern German Romantic organs afforded in compositions such as his Fantasie and Fugue on the Chorale “Ad nos, ad salutarem undam” (written 1850, premiered 1852) and the Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H (premiered 1855).7 Organs built during this time reflected larger trends in music. Large instruments were constructed in Germany and France, facilitated by technological innovations. Greater emphasis on unison (8′) color stops and increasing tonal resources allowed new and rebuilt organs to accommodate the gamut of dynamic and color possibilities previously unavailable to organists. The organs of Friedrich Ladegast and Adolf Reubke defined this modern style in north Germany.8 Julius’s musical experiences from early youth to developing composer culminate in his Organ Sonata.

Liszt and Reubke “strove to emancipate the organ, to raise it to the level of the piano,”9 by exploring and exploiting the new avenues of modern organs. “Liszt set new standards for handling the instrument,”10 and Reubke followed Liszt’s orchestral approach to the organ.11 Such efforts solved one problem and created another. Their organ works were revolutionary, but the technical demands exceeded the abilities of most organists of the time. Any progressive traits in their organ compositions were negated by the relative unavailability of suitable organists to perform and promote such innovations.

Discrepancies surround the initial relationship and presentation of the program and music at the sonata’s premiere performance at the Merseburg Cathedral on June 17, 1857,12 with Reubke performing. Franz Brendel notes in a review: “The work is not titled as a sonata, quite the contrary, the 94th Psalm was printed as the program, a procedure of which I completely approve.”13 Daniel Chorzempa interprets this to mean the entire text of Psalm 94 was included in the program.14 However, only select verses were included in Otto Reubke’s (Julius’s brother) 1877 edition of the sonata (Figures 1 and 2). Michael Gailit comments that Brendel likely would not have realized if the full psalm text was actually present in the program, considering its “rather long and very rarely used” nature.15 In contrast, Choonhae Kim Lee understands that “The 94th Psalm” was printed as the title, not the program.16 Programs from the premiere performance are not known to exist. No sources determine whether the work was based on the psalm text from its inception or if it was added as a program after the sonata was completed.

Existing discussions focus on direct text-music relationships and sectional comparisons. All have used the verses appearing in Otto’s edition of the sonata, despite the ambiguity surrounding Reubke’s use of the psalm text. The writings of Chorzempa (1971), Lee (1989), Manwarren (1994), Nieuwkoop (1995), and Gailit (1992) emphasize different aspects of the sonata. References to its programmatic and formal analysis are included to varying degrees in all papers. Chorzempa’s interpretation in part revolves around the Baroque idea of Affektenlehre, whereby specific musical characteristics elicit emotional responses. He extends this into a Romantic notion that the inclusion of programmatic music, according to Wilhelm Wackenroder, allows the written word to take on fuller meaning, as music is the “completion of philosophy.”17 He also mentions the general “atmosphere” in particular sections. Lee’s dissertation approaches the sonata from the perspective of the psalmist in the first two movements and later God’s presence in the final. She conjectures specific text-music relationships, “double function” formal structure, and includes an analysis of rhythmic treatments of the principal theme (Figure 3A). Manwarren offers the most objective analysis of the sonata, relating the organ sonata to the piano sonatas of Liszt and Reubke. Psalm 94 itself is mentioned only briefly, aside from his formal and harmonic analysis. In contrast, the analysis offered by Nieuwkoop distinctly relates text and music, describing Reubke as a “master of musical depiction.”18 His commentary on the music’s textual representation is undergirded by specific musical features. Gailit’s journal article (which later evolved into a book) is dominated by detailed motivic analysis with the occasional comment referencing programmatic meaning. Lee, Manwarren, and Gailit all cite Chorzempa’s dissertation and draw upon his interpretation.

Direct correlations are commonly made when discussing program and sonata. Nieuwkoop describes measures 16–21 as

. . . an impressive musical rendering of another key word from verse 1: “. . . erscheine (. . . shew thyself).” It is an imperative exclamation, which Reubke represents by means of the following musical techniques: 1. dotted rhythms, 2. a sequential treatment, 3. an increased number of voices (from 3 to 10), 4. a large ambitus.

Similarly, Lee describes, “The second verse ‘Rise up’ is portrayed immediately after the repetition of the opening phrase in the full organ. The music builds with the sequence of rising phrases.”20 Numerous similar descriptions are routine in existing literature. These descriptions portray Reubke’s treatment of the psalm text as “Mickey Mousing” (to borrow a phrase from film music scholars), wherein musical gestures intend to describe, reinforce, and clarify specific on-screen actions; or, in our case, a specific word, phrase, or mood from the psalm text. Nonetheless, each interpretation offered is informative and provides different perspectives.21 Curiously, while the importance of the program has been highlighted to varying degrees in the sources detailed below, none cite any scholarly resources pertaining directly to the psalm text itself.

Psalm 94 features a distinct three-part construction, as reflected in the commentaries of Clifford, Howard, Kraus, and Limburg. Clifford’s analysis is more microscopic but is consistent with the larger sectional division of the others (Figure 2). The opening and closing sections are laments for the community and individual respectively. The middle introduces wisdom literature. This “wisdom interlude” is one of the defining features of Psalm 94, as it interrupts the psalm’s otherwise lament form. In verses 1–7, the psalmist writes of the injustice and violence occurring in the world. Frustrated with God’s inactivity, he invokes God to action in hopes that the numerous atrocities cited will end and the oppressors see justice. Verses 1–2 directly invoke God to be present and act in the world. Concern for the larger community is expressed. The middle section (verses 8–15) employs wisdom poetry, which is often used to describe human nature22 and the education of humankind. The teachings of an all-knowing God are “supremely strange,” as God is better known as a creator and judge in Old Testament Judaic thinking.23 The resulting advantages are described in verses 12–15, where those who accept such teachings are happy24 and assured of God’s faithfulness to humanity.25 The lament returns in the concluding section; however, focus shifts now towards the psalmist’s relationship with and reliance on God. Clifford notes several statements of trust and confidence: God is referred to as “rock” and “refuge.” Howard mentions Kraus’s interpretations of the last section as “a prayer of an individual.”26 Thoughts expressed about God’s interaction with the world are constantly developing in the psalm, as the psalmist is quick to find comfort in God despite the terrible circumstances of his present condition.

The human, earthly, and personal perspective of the psalmist is readily noticed in Psalm 94. Personal pronouns are found throughout. Questions and petitions are offered to God. The general affect of Reubke’s Organ Sonata is one of bewilderment and chaos. Such a setting is most appropriate as the psalmist is likewise perplexed and angered by the world’s “wicked” state. The very nature of God is questioned. This confused and seemingly illogical state of both the psalmist and the world are musically portrayed. Harmonic stability is rare and definitive cadences are lacking throughout much of the sonata. The introduction establishes this confused state with the first thematic entrance (measures 1–7) cadencing in D-flat major and the second (measures 8–15) cadencing in C major—neither establishes nor alludes to the work’s tonic of C minor (Figure 4).27 This “veiled” and “amorphous” tonality28 in conjunction with the rapid shifts in both dynamics and tempo preclude predictability, anticipation, and order. Just as the psalmist is left to the mercy of God for a response to his dire situation, so, too, must the listener wait for musical answers and conclusions. The laws of God and of conventional western music theory seem to be abandoned to some extent.

Monothematicism offers the only possibility of reliable predictability as the entire work revolves around a single, two-part theme. Gailit’s analysis and nomenclature refers to the “falling melody line” as the main theme. This theme consists of two-halves: a head motive consisting of a “semitone + third” (measures1–2) and a descending chromatic scale (measures 3–4) (Figure 3A).29, 30 Principal and secondary themes first appear in the Grave and Larghetto sections of the first movement, respectively (P1, S1). The themes of the second movement (Adagio) are derived from those of the first. Although different, these two themes are simply in altered guise (P2, S2). The fugue of the third movement is a distinct but not exact return of the principal theme from the first movement (Figure 3).

Thematic variation of both main theme, especially the head motive, and descending scale is present throughout and comprises repetition and fragmentation.31 The distinctive rhythmic and melodic qualities of the head motive, in particular, permeate virtually every section of the piece.32 This incessant use of the head motive represents the psalmist’s similarly frequent address and reference to God. Titles such as “Lord,” “God,” and “He” appear in several verses of Psalm 94. Divine names are distributed equally in all the three parts of the psalm.33 Hence, the head motive is a musical address of God, just as the titles mentioned are verbal addresses. The psalmist is constantly invoking God in both text and music. This may be a simple side effect of the sonata’s cyclic, monothematic construction; however, it is an undeniable commonality between text and sonata.

Moreover, thematic variation further reinforces the personal view exhibited by the psalmist. Each address of God is framed differently—petition, questioning, trust, confidence. The principal themes of each movement demonstrate this. The precise rhythmic (as examined and described by Lee) and melodic characteristics of each iteration are different, yet each retains the essence of the original. Respective iterations are likewise harmonized differently and presented in the context of different textures, all in addition to motivic alterations themselves. The head motive’s distinctive nature readily identifies it in various textures. Voices throughout the sonata resemble the theme’s scalar portion making distinctive identification thereof challenging—the temptation of over-identifying such sections is very possible.

The third movement’s fugue subject (Figure 3E) is clearly derived from the principal theme (P1), and the descending scale of P1 is now inverted. Gailit offers that this scalar ascent “could be taken to symbolically represent the portion of the text which speaks of hope and trust in the Lord.”34 Indeed, this programmatic correlation bears more significance as this literal change in direction reflects the psalmist’s changed attitude towards and opinion of God. Compared to the damning accusations of the psalm’s opening, he reverses his position by placing trust and confidence in God. The programmatic function of the scale seems to represent the psalmist’s general attitude towards the Divine.

The juxtaposition between sections of Psalm 94 bears elements of plot archetype. For the psalmist, confusion and question leads to trust and understanding. A musical trajectory of chaos to order can be found in harmonic and phrase structures, paralleling the psalmist evolving understanding of God’s nature. Chorzempa comments on the first movement’s Larghetto that “a measure for measure analysis reveals no governing system or imposed order. Harmonic color is exploited for its own sake.”35 Manwarren undergirds this statement, mentioning a “shifting chromatic nature” and later states that Reubke “avoids tonicizing the key outright.”36 Harmonic chaos continues in the second movement (Adagio) as three keys are established in a five-measure section (measures 237–242).37 Phrase structure seems to have little regularity, though some can be found. Unlike the sonata’s first two movements, the final movement is harmonically and structurally stable. The fugue is stricter as a tonal center and phrase structures are overtly present. Manwarren notes a “traditional tonic-dominant relationship” between subject and answer, mentioning a “firm grounding” in the tonic.38 Lee identifies a constancy of the C-minor tonality (Figure 5).39 Gailit observes regular four- and eight-bar phrases in episodic and developmental sections of the fugue; subject statements are consistently seven bars.40 The fugue is unambiguous and goal-orientated. The sonata and program establish clear musical and textual dichotomies respectively that are placed in parallel. Such transformations, however, do not extend to the sonata’s mode. One expects or desires a “happy,” triumphant ending with minor giving way to major. Curiously, the sonata’s conclusion is not consistent with aspects of a plot archetype model, as Reubke defies any such expectations and concludes the sonata with a dramatic, defiant conclusion in C minor using the fullest resources of the organ. This inconsistency is justified when considering items absent from the music and its program.

Parallels between music and program support and reflect each other. Likewise, these may be extended to elements that are not present. Gailit states,

It is of great importance to understand that the second theme does not show the regular contrast to the first theme. It does not use another (major) key, it stays in C minor. Those contrasting, “friendly” themes are very often used for the triumphant ending of the composition. The lyric themes are, so to speak, the germ of redemption. . . . In his organ sonata, Reubke does not “program” the redemption. When listening to the second theme one can already guess that the piece will not have a happy ending!41

Reubke’s compositional style is understandably influenced by the works and teachings of Liszt. Manwarren’s analysis of Liszt’s and Reubke’s piano sonatas finds similar treatment of the second theme, describing them as “lyrical” and mentions their “even phrase structures.”42 The second theme from Reubke’s
Organ Sonata does not conform to this description. Gailit notes that Reubke seems to purposefully “avoid regular bar numbers,”43 consistent with the initial presentation of the primary theme. This supposed intention of developing a clear, non-contrasting second theme is supported by Reubke’s exposure to Liszt’s lyrical second theme of and creation of his own in the Piano Sonata, as Manwarren’s dissertation demonstrates.

The closest thing to a “redemptive” theme is a soloed melody in measures 81–86, beat 1, intended to be played on an 8′ Trompete (Figure 6). Reubke specifies several other instances where lines are to be soloed on different registrations. For example, Reubke prescribes “Man. I Viola da Gamba 8′” for the second statement of first movement’s secondary theme (S1) (measure 64) with the melody to be “very prominent.”44 Several other similar prescriptions for soloing are found in both first and second movements and always solo thematic material. This solo Trompete line is curious as it bears little, if any, resemblance to any of the primary or secondary themes, with the exception of the ubiquitous head motive (measure 82). Reubke makes clear that it should be understood as a thematic statement, considering its soloed distinction, yet it is intrinsically athematic. The listener is intended to hear this as important and substantive (especially when played using the prominent, distinct Trompete color), despite its content being contextually unrelated. This contradiction is confusing. Such an oddity is explained if labeled as the sonata’s “redemptive theme.” Such a label is further justified as it aligns with the typical “lyrical” and “evenly phrased” qualities previously mentioned, in particular the slur markings within each bar, routine use of eighth notes, and stepwise and tertian motion. However, its singular appearance in the whole sonata disqualifies it as thematic material. Rather, it seems Reubke intends this to be a fake theme, presented as authentic but without credentials. Any true redemptive theme is simply not present in the organ sonata—an imposter offers false hope. The lack of a true contrasting second theme appears to have basis in the program’s own lack.

It is precisely the wisdom interlude of Psalm 94 (verses 8–15) that is excluded from the sonata’s program as listed in Otto Reubke’s edition. The program thus unites the two lament sections of Psalm 94 into a more unified whole. The single-movement and monothematic structure of the sonata reflect this. The absence of text focusing on education and human behavior precludes any chance for a musical depiction of redemption in the world. Without accepting and understanding the wisdom, teaching, and guidance through God’s presence in the world, humankind has little chance of achieving a just world. The psalmist does not desire the wicked to return to a righteous lifestyle, nor does he intercede on their behalf. Rather, the psalmist concludes by expressing desire for God’s justice and retribution in the form of eradication of the unjust. Redemption is denied to this demographic in the psalm, just as a redemptive theme is denied in the sonata. Gailit’s comment about the lack of a “redemptive” secondary theme foreshadowing and fulfilling a “bad ending” therefore stems from the program itself. This is yet more sinister when realizing the intentionality inherent in both text and music.

Reubke demonstrates a more profound understanding and realization of Psalm 94’s text, extending beyond the straightforward “depiction” as described by others’ analysis identifying, relating, and explaining the sonata’s affect with specific musical features. He seems to offer the listener something more akin to a critical reading, one that helps us understand, sympathize with, and participate in the emotions and thoughts of the psalmist. Reubke’s Organ Sonata on Psalm 94 offers a visceral musical experience, whether one is performer or listener. His virtuosic and highly technical writing in combination with a religious program places the sonata in a unique position as it engages performer and audience sonically and theologically as found in few other compositions in the organ repertoire.

Notes

1. Hans van Nieuwkoop, “Interpretation of Reubke’s ‘Sonate der 94 Psalm,’” in Proceedings of the Göteborg International Organ Academy 1994, trans. Rechard van der Hart, ed. Hans Davidsson and Sverker Jullander, 383–402 (Göteborg: Novum Grafiska AB, 1995): 383.

2. In the Latin sense of “holder.”

3. J. Peter Burkholder, Donald J. Grout, and Claude V. Palisca, A History of Western Music, 8th ed. (New York: W. W. Morton, 2010), 606.

4. Daniel W. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke: Life and Works” (Ph.D. diss., University of Minnesota, 1971), 14–15.

5. Nieuwkoop, “Interpretation of Reubke’s ‘Sonate der 94 Psalm,’” 384.

6. Michael Gailit, “Julius Reubke and His Organ Sonata: The 94th Psalm, Part I,” The Diapason, 83, no. 1 (Jan. 1992), 12–14.

7. Ibid., 13.

8. Nieuwkoop, “Interpretation of Reubke’s ‘Sonate der 94 Psalm,’” 384.

9. Ibid., 384.

10. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part I,” 13.

11. Matthew C. Manwarren, “The Influence of Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor on Julius Reubke: A Study of Reubke’s Sonata in B-flat Minor for Piano and the Sonata on the Ninety-fourth Psalm for Organ” (DMA diss., University of Cincinnati, 1994), 91.

12. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 101.

13. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 102.

14. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 252.

15. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part II,” 10.

16. Choonhae Kim Lee, “Reubke’s The 94th Psalm: Synthesis of conservative and progressive styles, A lecture recital, Together with three Recitals of Selected works of J. S. Bach, C. Franck, A. Heillerds, M. Reger, L. Sowerby, M. Widor, and Others” (DMA diss., University of North Texas-Denton, 1989), 24.

17. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 250.

18. Nieuwkoop, “Interpretation of Reubke’s ‘Sonate der 94 Psalm,’” 394.

19. Nieuwkoop, “Interpretation of Reubke’s ‘Sonate der 94 Psalm,’” 388.

20. Lee, “Reubke’s The 94th Psalm,” 26.

21. Music scholarship prior to 1971 was not examined as research presented by Chorzempa corrects previous errors and misunderstandings.

22. Richard J. Clifford, Psalms 73–150, Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2003), 113–114.

23. Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalms 60–150: A Commentary (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1989), 241.

24. Clifford, Psalms 73–150, 114.

25. Kraus, Psalms 60–150, 241.

26. David M. Howard, Jr., The Structure of Psalms 93–100 (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 49.

27. Lee, “Reubke’s The 94th Psalm,” 41.

28. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 224.

29. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part II,” 10.

30. Gailit includes the rising chords in mm. 4–7 in addition to the head motive, creating a “Main Idea.” I do not find this useful in my analysis.

31. Lee, “Reubke’s The 94th Psalm,” 312.

32. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 206.

33. Howard, The Structure of Psalms 93–100, 50.

34. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part IV,” 13.

35. Chorzempa, “Julius Reubke,” 232.

36. Manwarren, “The Influence of Liszt,” 47.

37. Ibid., 67.

38. Manwarren, “The Influence of Liszt,” 80.

39. Lee, “Reubke’s The 94th Psalm,” 42.

40. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part IV,” 14

41. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part III,” 12.

42. Manwarren, “The Influence of Liszt,” 37.

43. Gailit, “Julius Reubke: Part III,” 12.

44. “Melodie sehr hervortretend.”

Bibliography

Extra-musical:

Clifford, Richard J. Psalms 73–150: Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2003.

Gillingham, Susan. Psalms through the Centuries. Singapore: Blackwell, 2008.

Howard, David M., Jr. “Psalm 94 amongst the Kingship-of Yhwh Psalms.” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly, 61, no. 4 (Oct. 1999): 667–685.

______ . The Structure of Psalms 93–100. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1997.

Kraus, Hans-Joachim. Psalms 60–150: A commentary. Translated by Hilton C. Oswald. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1989.

Limburg, James. Psalms. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000.

Musical:

Chorzempa, Daniel W. “Julius Reubke: Life and Works.” Ph.D. diss., University of Minnesota, 1971.

Gailit, Michael. “Julius Reubke and His Organ Sonata: The 94th Psalm, Part I.” The Diapason, 83, no. 1 (Jan. 1992): 12–14.

______ . “Julius Reubke and His Organ Sonata: The 94th Psalm, Part II.” The Diapason, 83, no. 2 (Feb. 1992): 10–11.

______ . “Julius Reubke and His Organ Sonata: The 94th Psalm, Part III.” The Diapason, 83, no. 3 (March 1992): 12–13.

______ . “Julius Reubke and His Organ Sonata: The 94th Psalm, Part IV.” The Diapason, 83, no. 4 (April 1992): 12–14.

Klotz, Hans, and Daniel Chorzempa. “Reubke.” Grove Music Online, accessed March 7, 2016, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.

Lee, Choonhae Kim. “Reubke’s The 94th Psalm: Synthesis of conservative and progressive styles, A lecture recital, Together with three Recitals of Selected works of J. S. Bach, C. Franck, A Heillerds, M. Reger, L. Sowerby, M. Widor, and Others.” DMA diss., University of North Texas-Denton, 1989.

Manwarren, Matthew C. “The influence of Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor on Julius Reubke: A study of Reubke’s Sonata in B-flat Minor for Piano and the Sonata on the Ninety-fourth Psalm for Organ.” DMA diss., University of Cincinnati, 1994.

Nieuwkoop, Hans van. “Interpretation of Reubke’s ‘Sonate der 94 Psalm.’” In Proceedings of the Göteborg International Organ Academy 1994, translated by Rechard van der Hart, edited by Hans Davidsson and Sverker Jullander, 383–402. Göteborg: Novum Grafiska AB, 1995.

Reubke, Julius. Orgelwerke. Edited by Günther Kaunzinger. Vienna: Wiener Urtext Edition, 2004.

Reubke, Julius. Der 94ste Psalm für die Orgel. Edited by Otto Reubke. Leipzig: J. Schuberth & Co., 1871.

Nunc dimittis: James McCray, Robert Rhoads, James Wyly

Default

James Elwin McCray

James Elwin McCray, music professor and administrator, choral conductor, and composer, died March 3 at his home in Fort Collins, Colorado, following a period of declining health. He was born February 27, 1938, in Kankakee, Illinois, and received degrees from Illinois Wesleyan University, Bloomington, and Southern Illinois University, Carbondale. He earned a Ph.D. degree in music from the University of Iowa, Iowa City. Before arriving in Fort Collins, he was a member of the music faculty of the University of South Florida, Tampa, and chairman of the music departments at Longwood College, Farmville, Virginia, and St. Mary’s College, South Bend, Indiana. From 1978 until 1988 he was chairman of the department of music, theatre, and dance at Colorado State University, Fort Collins, from which he retired as Professor Emeritus of Music.

McCray composed and published over one hundred choral compositions that were sung by vocal ensembles in public schools, churches, and universities—many of them commissioned by these organizations. He received professor of the year awards from the honor societies of two universities, was awarded the Mellon Prize for distinguished contributions to scholarship, and was recognized for excellence in teaching by the Colorado State Alumni Board. An active church musician, he served Protestant and Catholic churches for decades. Additionally, he conducted Laudamus, a civic choral ensemble, and authored three books and numerous professional articles. From November 1976 through December 2016, he wrote a monthly column for The Diapason, “Music for Voices and Organ,” reviewing new choral music and reintroducing other anthems appropriate throughout the liturgical year.

As a university administrator, McCray was a leader who planned for the future and found innovative solutions to the changing climate of higher education. He was a strong and vigorous advocate for his departments and worked to broaden his departments’ reputation. A particular asset of his leadership and community building was his continuing success at hosting distinguished musicians, scholars, and composers from around the country to interact with students and frequent, gracious entertaining of the Fort Collins choral community at his home.

James Elwin McCray is survived by his wife, Joanne Campbell, and his children by his previous wife, Chris: son Matthew McCray of Los Angeles and daughter Kelly McCray of Tampa; and step-children Emily Lefler of San Diego, Bradley Lefler of Los Angeles, and predeceased by his stepson, Scott Lefler. A celebration of life was held April 6 in Fort Collins. Memorial gifts should be directed to the future James E. McCray Music Scholarship, which the family hopes to eventually endow to support conducting students in the CSU Department of Music. Checks should be made payable to the Colorado State University Foundation, Post Office Box 1870, Fort Collins, Colorado 80522, or made online at advancing.colostate.edu/give.

Robert D. Rhoads

Robert D. Rhoads, 88, retired vice president and technical director of Schoenstein & Co., Benicia, California, died February 10 in Sonoma, California. Born in Burbank, California, his family moved to a farm in Sunnyside, Washington. Rhoads attended Simpson College in Washington and assisted in relocating the college to San Francisco. Part of that project was installing two campus pipe organs. In San Francisco he earned an AA in electrical engineering from Cogswell College while working on installation and maintenance of industrial boilers.

In 1960 he started Robert D. Rhoads Pipe Organ Service. The following year he became an M. P. Möller representative, selling, installing, and servicing organs in the Northern California area. In 1970 he returned to Simpson College as head of maintenance and engineer of their radio station. When offered an opportunity to plan and install radio studio equipment and transmitters throughout the country, he became chief engineer of Family Radio, a national religious network.

After completing the radio broadcasting project in 1974, Rhoads again entered the organ business. He purchased a building and set up an organ shop, employing two full-time people besides his wife, Dolores. During the “pizza organ” craze, the firm renovated and installed many Wurlitzer organs.

In 1978 Rhoads Pipe Organ Service was purchased by Schoenstein & Co. Robert Rhoads became factory manager, and Dolores Rhoads manager of tuning service. Robert Rhoads was responsible for developing and refining the designs of nearly every component of the Schoenstein electric-pneumatic action system. He coordinated the engineering, production, and installation of all new organs as well as major rebuilding jobs. Some of his notable projects at Schoenstein were organs at St. Paul’s Parish, Washington, D.C., and First-Plymouth Congregational Church, Lincoln, Nebraska. He also supervised the restoration of the Mormon Tabernacle organ in Salt Lake City, Utah, and accomplished installing the façade of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Conference Center organ in Salt Lake City while the building was under construction.

In 1996 Rhoads was named vice president and technical director of Schoenstein & Co. In April 2003 he retired after 24 years of service. Robert D. Rhoads is survived by his wife Dolores, two children, and seven grandchildren.

James Wyly

James Wyly died October 15, 2023, in Oaxaca, Mexico. He was born November 15, 1937, in Kansas City, Missouri, and was educated in public schools. He graduated in 1959 from Amherst College, Amherst, Massachusetts, where he majored in English and studied organ at nearby Smith College with Henry Mishkin. He then enrolled in the new Doctor of Musical Arts degree program at the University of Missouri at Kansas City, earning his degree in 1964. From 1961 through 1963 he was supported by the Fulbright Commission for his research and dissertation on historic pipe organs of Spain, living in Madrid. He was prepared to teach organ, harpsichord, music theory, and music history.

Wyly taught on the music faculty of Elmhurst College, Elmhurst, Illinois, from 1964 to 1968. Then he served on the music faculty of Grinnell College, Grinnell, Iowa, from 1968 to 1976, where he also taught in a humanities program based in classical literature.

In Chicago he met and married Mary Gae Porter, who served as a librarian at Grinnell and later at Chicago’s Newberry Library. From 1977 through 1985 James Wyly devoted himself to the study of clinical psychology and the analytical psychology of Carl Jung. He earned his PsyD degree from the Illinois School of Professional Psychology in 1981 and his diploma in analytical psychology from Chicago’s Jung Institute. He maintained a private practice in Chicago from 1981 until 2003, also serving on the staff of Fourth Presbyterian Church’s Replogle Counseling Center. He was an active teacher in the training programs of the Jung Institute until 1997.

In the 1990s Wyly worked with several groups of psychologists in Mexico City, people who wanted to study Jungian psychology and become analysts. He taught classes and provided clinical supervision for candidates.

In 2000 Wyly met paintings conservator Helen Oh, who taught painting at the Palette and Chisel Academy in Chicago, and he studied with her until 2003, learning 17th-century techniques. James and Mary Wyly moved to Oaxaca, Mexico, in 2003, first living in a 17th-century house of the late painter Rodolfo Morales. In 2008 they moved into the house of architect Guillermo de la Cajiga, where he pursued his passion in the studio of his dreams. At the same time a group of musicians gathered around him to learn and perform music of the Baroque era. The Wylys hosted two or three concerts a year until 2023.

In 2010 James Wyly was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia. Treatment provided by two young physicians using alternative medicine delayed symptoms until the summer of 2023 when they cured the leukemia but could not reverse the anemia that followed. Mary, these doctors, and a loyal circle of friends cared for him until he died peacefully in his bed.

Current Issue