John Scott dead at age 59

Alan Curtis died unexpectedly on July 15 in Florence, Italy. He was 80 years old. 

His 1956–58 Fulbright Award brought him to Amsterdam, where he studied harpsichord with Gustav Leonhardt. While working toward a master’s degree in musicology, Curtis unlocked the mysteries of the Louis Couperin unmeasured preludes. He also commissioned a split-key enharmonic harpsichord from Dowd and the first contemporary authentic chittarone from Warnock. He was known for his reconstructions of early operas, including a Rameau opera with period instruments and authentic choreography and a reconstruction of Monteverdi’s L’incoronazione di Poppea. Curtis was a particular champion of Gluck’s Armide, leading three very different productions, including one with his own period-instrument orchestra.

The recent project Handel’s Bestiary presents illustrations by Michael Sowa that accompany twelve arias by Handel about twelve different animals, recorded for the occasion by Curtis’s orchestra Il Complesso Barocco and four soloists. At the time of his death he was working to recreate the Italian recitatives for Cherubini’s Medea and preparing the Australian debut of a Handel pasticcio, Voyage to the Moon.

Alan Curtis is survived by his partner of the last 25 years, lutenist Pier Luigi Ciapparelli; his ex-wife Jennifer Curtis, daughters Julia Curtis and Daria Wrubel, and grandchildren Cornelia Curtis and Zachary Wrubel.

Helen Hubbert Kemp, noted children’s choir director, died August 23 at the age of 97. Born in 1918, she worked for almost 80 years as a singer, teacher, choir director, clinician, and composer. Kemp attended Westminster Choir College, Princeton, New Jersey, where she met her husband John S. C. Kemp. Helen and her late husband John served as founding members and leaders of Choristers Guild, the international organization for children’s choirs. The Kemps served two tenures on the faculty of Westminster Choir College and held church positions in several states, including one at First Presbyterian Church, Oklahoma City, where they spent 20 years developing a noted church music program. Upon her retirement from Westminster Choir College, Kemp was named Professor Emerita of Voice and Church Music and received honorary doctorates from Westminster Choir College and Shenandoah University. In 2003, she was awarded The Elaine Brown Award for Choral Excellence from the Pennsylvania ACDA, and a lifetime membership award from the Presbyterian Association of Musicians.

Helen Kemp was the subject of a documentary video, A Helen Kemp Portrait (Choristers Guild). Her books and prepared instructional materials have become standard resources, and church choir directors around the world use her text, Of Primary Importance, and its Volume II sequel. Her choral compositions for children are widely performed. She was also the subject of a doctoral dissertation by Christine Farrier entitled “Body, Mind, Spirit, Voice: Helen Kemp and the Development of the Children’s Choir Movement” (University of North Carolina, Greensboro, 1992).

Helen Hubbert Kemp is survived by her children, Julia Kemp Rothfuss (Guy), John Matthew Kemp (Mary), Michael E. Kemp (Janet), Peggy Kemp Henry, and Kathy Kemp Ridl (Jim), along with grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and nieces, nephews, and cousins.

John Scott, organist and director of music at St. Thomas Church in New York City, died suddenly on August 12. He was 59. Having returned to New York on August 11 after a European tour, he was not feeling well the next morning and suffered a sudden cardiac episode from which he never regained consciousness. His wife, Lily, was by his side when he died. John and Lily were expecting their first child, a son who was born September 4.

A graduate of St. John’s College, Cambridge, John Scott was appointed organist and director of music of St. Thomas Church and Choir School in 2004, having previously served at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London for 26 years. In addition to his wife, Lily, he is survived by three children, Emma, Alex and a newborn son, and two sisters, Judith and Helen.

See John Bishop’s column on page 22 of this issue for further remembrances of John Scott.

A thousand ages in Thy sight . . . 

In June 1956, the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company, under the leadership of tonal director G. Donald Harrison, was rushing to complete the new organ for St. Thomas Church on Fifth Avenue in New York City. Pierre Cochereau, the organist at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, was to open the national convention of the American Guild of Organists on June 26 with a recital on the new organ at St. Thomas Church, and the pressure was on.

On June 14, New York’s taxi drivers were on strike, forcing Harrison to walk the eight blocks home to the apartment on Third Avenue he shared with his wife, Helen. It was unseasonably hot, and the exhausted Harrison stopped at a drug store for a dose of smelling salts. After dinner that evening, “Don” sat down with Helen to watch the impish piano virtuoso Victor Borge on television, and at 11 p.m. suffered a massive fatal heart attack. On June 18, he was buried on Long Island.¹

In exquisite foreshadowing and coincidence, on June 18, 1956, John Gavin Scott was born in Wakefield, Yorkshire, in the United Kingdom. His early musical education and performing career was as a chorister at Wakefield Cathedral. From 1974 to 1978 he served as organ scholar at St. John’s College, Cambridge, under George Guest. After his graduation, he served concurrently as assistant organist at Southwark and St. Paul’s Cathedrals in London. And in 1990, he famously rose to serve as organist and director of music at St. Paul’s, following the retirement of Christopher Dearnley.

John Scott was appointed organist and director of music of St. Thomas Church and Choir School in New York in 2004, forty-eight years after the death of the creator of the organ there. 

On Tuesday, August 11, 2015, John Scott returned home to New York from a triumphant concert tour of Europe, anticipating a day of meetings discussing the replacement of the much-altered Aeolian-Skinner organ at St. Thomas, and the start of a new academic year with the Choir School. According to the website of St. Thomas Church, he was “not feeling well the next morning and suffered a sudden cardiac episode. He was taken to Roosevelt Hospital but never regained consciousness. His wife, Lily, was by his side when he died.” John and Lily were married at St. Thomas Church in May 2013, and Lily gave birth to their son, Arthur John Gavin Scott, on September 4. 

The power of social media

Social media is everywhere, and there are all kinds of uses for it, from the ridiculous to the sublime. I don’t need to describe the ridiculous—everyone who lurks on Facebook knows what I mean. But the sublime is there, and it can be powerful. In August, I was following the Facebook posts of four colleagues giving concert tours in Europe. Each published photos of the organs they were playing, and the buildings they were in. There were a few obligatory pub photos, and one of an Austrian cow. There were photos of statues of great musicians, with captions describing our colleague’s inspiration as they followed in great footsteps. It was fun to follow them as they crossed paths, sharing the stories of each venue, and rewarding to share the observations of such sensitive musicians as they sat on the same benches occupied by past masters.

John Scott was one of the touring artists. It was fun to follow him as he moved around, but eerie to scroll through them a second time after receiving the news of his death. How was anyone to know that this would be his last concert? 

And never in its eleven-year history has Facebook showed its real value more than the days following John Scott’s tragic and untimely death, as hundreds of mentors, colleagues, and former and present choristers eloquently shared their grief and memories around the world. Photos of John at the organ, in front of choirs and orchestras, and at post-concert celebrations in pubs showed up by the hundred. I clicked “play” for dozens of John’s performances as they appeared on my page—from elegant moments of small ensembles on period instruments, to serene readings of the great anthems of the Anglican tradition, to the supreme sonic swashbuckling from the 1997 Christmas Concert at St. Paul’s Cathedral (type “St Paul’s Cathedral Choir 1997 Christmas Concert: Hark” in the YouTube search field, and fasten your seatbelt).

And someone please tell me, just how do a couple dozen boys project their voices in descant above such a mass of sound?

Millions of people have been privileged to hear John Scott’s music-making. His position at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London had him on the bench for such internationally televised celebrations as “The Royal Wedding” (Charles and Diana), Queen Elizabeth’s Diamond Jubilee, and the Queen Mother’s Hundredth Birthday.² And those of us who understand anything about performing before the public know that a certain amount of self-assurance (dare I say ego?) is necessary. 

But there are two sentiments common to virtually every comment I read: that John Scott was the consummate musician, setting the highest standards in everything he did, making it look natural and easy, and that John Scott was the epitome of humility, of gentlemanliness, of grace, and of kindness. I read of students who, in the thrall of John’s solo organ recordings, made impromptu international pilgrimages to hear him play, and were thrilled to be treated like honored guests. I read of colleagues who marveled at his virtuosity, hearing him play concerts that included not one, not two, but four or five of the most notoriously complex pieces—a series of blockbuster closers—with apparently little effort. And I read of people thrilled beyond belief to have received affirmation and encouragement from him. 

I read the words of parents of choristers who valued the fatherly, mentoring life example for their sons as much or more than the spectacular musical education. And I read the words of clergy describing John Scott as the ideal colleague, unruffled, unruffleable, intuitive, innovative, and always exquisitely prepared.We would have forgiven him for thundering through life with full awareness of his genius, dramatic swirls of a cape, and (as I once witnessed a world-famous conductor do in Cleveland) standing regally erect to announce his restaurant dinner order in stentorian voice, stopping all other conversation in the room!

But there’s the beauty. As the Gospel of Luke reminds us not to keep our light (talent) hidden under a bushel, John Scott knew that his was a special gift, not given him for self-aggrandizement, but to be shared freely with all the energy he could muster. Hundreds of people writing about John on Facebook quoted Johann Sebastian Bach’s maxim, Soli Deo Gloria (to God alone be glory). John impressed and inspired thousands of musicians with his exquisite taste, consummate musicianship, and unparalleled collegiality.  He honored us all by the care he invested in his work, and our lives are all enriched by his devotion to the music of the church.

Reminiscing 

In the past few days, I’ve spent time with several of John’s colleagues and coworkers, hearing their memories and impressions. I intended to distill those offerings into separate vignettes, but felt that it read too much like tributes to the contributors.³

You know those gala dinners when a member of the committee introduces the keynote speaker by giving a ten-minute biography of himself? 

Instead, what follows is drawn from the words of others.

John had a relentless work ethic. He studied, practiced, and programmed meticulously. He approached each piece of music and each instrument he played as a fresh experience, and he prepared each performance as though it were his first. When there was extra practice time available he used it diligently—perhaps nurturing his skills to be ready for the many times when there wasn’t much rehearsal or practice time.

John’s basic musical and keyboard skills were unparalleled. Once, when the choir was working toward a performance of J. S. Bach’s St. Matthew Passion, there were an extra few minutes in a rehearsal just before Evensong. John asked the choir to “take out the Bach” and run through one of the big flashy choruses. He went to the piano to lead, and his colleague noted that as the performance was to be performed at Baroque “low pitch” (A=415Hz) with an orchestra of period instruments, John was transposing down a half-step at sight. Another glance showed that he was playing from the full orchestral score—casually enough drawing on those basic skills—basic for him perhaps, but unattainable for most of us. His skills were perfectly preserved and carefully nurtured, available at any moment without notice.

Another rehearsal story came from an organist who was “filling in” during a period when the associate and assistant organist positions were vacant. The piece in question was Bach’s rollicking motet, Lobet den Herrn—five minutes and forty-five seconds of bounding Baroque ebullience. Determined to meet John’s standards, he had prepared carefully, and after a rehearsal run-through, was pleased to have grazed just one note. As the last chord died away, John turned to him and said, “Mr. ____, on page . . . .” One note of the multitude out of place, and John identified it perfectly and immediately. What’s more, the correction was not personal. It was accurate and simple, in the service of the music alone.

A colleague wrote: 

John’s unparalleled, gentlemanly conduct with people was tangible in his sense of musical proportion, balance, communication and temperament. Never the triviality of wasted time nor wasted words, what was undeniably correct in the music could not have been easier to comprehend and follow. One hundred simply perfect musical thoughts communicated with one gesture and a smile. The acceptance of nothing less through the reciprocity that made this possible without a hint of eccentricity, ever.

A correspondent engaged John to play a recital on his home instrument, enjoyed and admired John’s preparation, and was astonished during the performance at how fresh and vital the organ sounded. The story-teller was used to playing on the instrument weekly, performing frequently outside of worship, and hearing many other musicians use the same instrument—but somehow this performance was different. With the program over, John returned to New York, and the story-teller took a look at the piston settings used during the concert, expecting to find magical creative combinations as yet untried. But no. John had used registrations that were conventional and uncomplicated. There was simply something about his fingers on the keys, the turns of phrase, the impalpable sense of rhythm that transformed the instrument into something even more special.

In 2011, I wrote about attending worship at St. Thomas on Easter Sunday.⁴ Wendy and I attended the early Mass—the preludes started at 7:30 a.m. Two hours later, after we heard the sub-organists playing the anthems, hymns, and service music, John slid onto the bench for the postlude and it seemed suddenly like a different organ. It was breathtaking. The energetic drive of his playing woke up the instrument, giving it a new and distinct voice.

John was devoted to the boys of the choir. He cared deeply about them, and cared for them as a parent would. The mother of a chorister commented to the rector, “My son doesn’t have a father at home—Mr. Scott serves as his father.” John noticed dark circles under a chorister’s eyes. “You look a little tired. Do you need an early evening?” A chorister’s father posted a short video of John playing (pretty good) ping-pong with the boys, adding, “John was at home with the boys, and they were at home with him.”

The choir sang in a series of performances of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion, led by the brilliant Sir Simon Rattle. After the last performance, Rattle commented, “Those are the finest choristers I’ve ever worked with.”

An organist was dejected after missing notes and registrations during Evensong. John expressed his belief in his associate, encouraged him—“I know you have it in you”—giving the richest of collegial experiences.

An organbuilder working at St. Thomas spoke of John’s vision for the organ—his intuitive sense of how timbres blended, and how he was able to alter the sound of the instrument with the subtlest changes in phrasing and articulation. Another commented that John was at home with whatever instrument he played. When on tour, he played a wide variety of instruments, from massive romantic cathedral organs, to huge modern trackers, to tiny ancient instruments. One observer pointed out that it didn’t seem as though he adjusted to each organ, he simply played the organ of the day.

Big shoes to fill

It’s a special responsibility for an artist to follow a legend—to assume a post long held by a beloved, skilled, and admired predecessor. Gerre Hancock was organist and master of choristers at St. Thomas Church from 1971 until 2004. Known as “Uncle Gerre” to generations of musicians, he raised the musical and liturgical standards of worship at St. Thomas to stratospheric levels. People thronged from around the world to participate in worship there, and under his leadership, the St. Thomas Choir was respected as among the best. Dr. Hancock’s organ improvisations were legendary, as were his compositions and hymn arrangements. 

Following Gerre Hancock’s retirement, John Scott arrived in New York and quietly assumed his duties without fanfare. He simply took up where Hancock had left off, and continued to build and develop the sound, the prowess, and the international esteem of the choir. Perhaps this metamorphosis was enhanced by the turnover inherent in a choir of young boys. After all, a treble chorister’s career cannot last more than four or five years. But as one commented to me this week, John Scott saw himself as a steward of the choir, of that great tradition in that great church. It was his duty to encourage its work for the Glory of God as long as his tenure lasted. Tragically, his tenure was drastically shorter than any of us might have hoped or imagined. But we as individuals, and our art form, are the richer for having shared the earth with John Scott.

Never has the world of church music been graced by a more highly skilled, thoughtful, humble, caring participant. Church music will never be the same because John Scott was part of it. Much of his legacy is permanent through stacks of solo, choral, and ensemble recordings. And all who heard him have witnessed the best there is. He was born with immense gifts, nurtured them with grace and energy, and shared them generously with the world to the Glory of God. That was his way. ν

Notes

1. Craig Whitney, All the Stops, New York, PublicAffairs, 2003, page 119.

2. Queen Elizabeth appointed John Scott as a Lieutenant of the Royal Victorian Order (LVO) in 2004 in recognition of his work at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

3. Thanks to those who contributed memories by phone and in writing:

a. Fred Teardo, organist and director of music at the Cathedral Church of the Advent, Birmingham, Alabama, who served as associate organist at St. Thomas for more than five years.

b. Erik Suter, former organist at Washington National Cathedral, frequent “fill-in” organist at St. Thomas. Erik’s son Daniel is a chorister in the St. Thomas Boy Choir.

c. Haig Mardirosian, dean of the College of Arts and Letters at the University of Tampa, where he presides over the Dobson pipe organ in Sykes Chapel.

d. Canon Carl Turner, rector of St. Thomas Church.

e. Stephen Tharp, concert organist, and artist in residence at St. James Episcopal Church on Manhattan’s Upper East Side.

4. I have written twice about attending worship at St. Thomas Church with John Scott at the helm. See “In the wind . . . ” in The Diapason issues from January 2008 and June 2011.

Enrique Alberto Arias, 63, died on December 1, 2004, at Weiss Memorial Hospital, Chicago. Survived by close friends and colleagues, there are no immediate family survivors. A musicologist, Dr. Arias was associate professor at DePaul University's School of New Learning, and president of Ars Musica Chicago.

The son of Enrique (the Consul General of Panama in Chicago) and Jeanne Arias, Enrique Arias was born April 26, 1941 in Chicago. He received a bachelor of music in piano performance from the DePaul University School of Music, a master of arts in musicology from the University of Chicago, and in 1971, a Ph.D. in music history and literature from Northwestern University. Dr. Arias was a faculty member, and later president, of the Chicago Conservatory of Music. He then served as chairman of Humanities and Graduate Studies at the American Conservatory of Music, and in 1993 began his tenure at DePaul. Arias was also a member of the American Musicological Society, and throughout his career he was a keynote speaker at numerous conferences on Latin American music.

As a researcher and writer, Dr. Arias traveled yearly to churches, archives and libraries around the world. His many publications include The Masses of Sebastian de Vivanco (circa 1550-1622): A Study of Polyphonic Settings of the Ordinary in Late Renaissance Spain (University Microfilms, 1971), Alexander Tcherepnin: A Bio-Bibliography (Greenwood Press, 1989), and Comedy in Music: A Historical Bibliographical Resource Guide (Greenwood Press, 2001). He was one of four editors of Essays in Honor of John F. Ohl: A Compendium of American Musicology (Northwestern University Press, 2001), and one of his most significant publications was the edition of Three Masses by Sebastian de Vivanco (A-R Editions, circa 1978). Arias also had numerous articles published in music journals, including Music Review, Tempo, Perspectives of New Music, Anuario Musical, Lituanus (The Lithuanian Quarterly), and the Latin American Music Review. His final two articles were "Maps and Music: How the Bounding Confidence of the Elizabethan Age Was Celebrated in a Madrigal by Weelkes" (published in the winter 2003-04 edition of Early Music America), and "Jules Massenet, French Cantatas for a Martyr, and Vincentian Composers" (published in the September 2004 issue of The Diapason).

As a pianist, Arias was most active in the 1970s and 1980s, performing regionally at many venues including Preston Bradley Hall, and internationally with the late soprano Dahlia Kucenas at concert halls throughout Asia, Eastern and Western Europe, and South America. He also served as president of Ars Musica Chicago, an early music ensemble, a position he held since 1988.

A memorial service took place December 12, 2004 at St. Vincent de Paul Church, Chicago, and a concert was given in his memory on January 9, 2005, also at St. Vincent de Paul Church. Contributions may be made in his memory to Ars Musica Chicago, P.O. Box  A-3279, Chicago, IL 60690.

Lois Rhea Land, 88, long-time teacher, composer, author, and mentor to many music educators throughout Texas, died December 9, 2004, of complications from a fall a year and a half ago that left her paralyzed. Born in Milton, Kansas, she was a child prodigy in piano and received music degrees from Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois. From 1945 to 1964 she taught music in the Corpus Christi, Texas public schools, and served as a judge and clinician throughout the southwest. A founding member of the Texas Choral Directors Association in 1950, she also collaborated with many conductors and singers as accompanist for the Texas All-State Choir in the 1950s and 1960s.

In 1964 she joined the music faculty at Southern Methodist University, where she taught music education and supervised the graduate music education division until 1980. From 1980-88 she served as adjunct professor of music education at Texas Christian University in Ft. Worth. A church organist from an early age, she served Dallas congregations as organist and choir director, including Northaven and Munger Place United Methodist Churches, and Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Rockwall.

Her numerous choral compositions were published by Plymouth, Southern Music, Bourne, Edwin Morris, Mark Foster, and Lawson-Gould, and was the co-author of numerous college and choral music textbooks. Most recent publications include several volumes of sight-reading materials and techniques published by Alliance Music Company in Houston, and A Cappella Songs Without Words (AMC).

She is survived by one daughter, Christina Harmon, of Dallas, Texas, and three grandchildren. A memorial service was held at Perkins Chapel, Southern Methodist University, December 27, 2004.

Charles Wilson McManis died December 3, 2004, in South Burlington, Vermont, after suffering a fall at his home the evening before. He was born March 17, 1913, in Kansas City, Kansas, and was preceded in death by his first wife, Charlotte Bridge McManis, an elder brother and a younger sister. He is survived by his second wife, Judith Fisher McManis of South Burlington, two sons and a daughter.

Mr. McManis grew up in a musical family. At age three, sitting in church with his mother (his father was choir director), he was fascinated by the sounds of the organ, and remembered humming its very high pitches. At age twelve he experimented with making wood and metal organ pipes from fruit crates and coffee cans. As a teenager he constructed an organ with four ranks of pipes that he installed in the family's finished attic. He completed studies at the University of Kansas in 1936 with a BA degree, specializing in theoretical courses useful to an organbuilder. Following this, in 1937, was a bachelor of music degree in composition and organ performance. While at the university, he apprenticed during vacations with an organ factory representative, repairing, voicing and tuning organs. On graduation he set up shop in Kansas City, Kansas, building or rebuilding half a dozen organs before Pearl Harbor and WWII halted U.S. organbuilding.

In April, 1942, he enlisted in the U.S. Army. After basic training at Camp Roberts, California, he was retained to teach organists of the nine regimental chapels, and was assigned to 11th Regimental Chapel. The following year he was shipped overseas with the 221st General Hospital to Chalon-sur-Marne, France, ninety miles east of Paris. At war's end, he returned to Kansas City, where he married Charlotte Bridge on June 9, 1946.

At McManis Organs, Charles and his staff would build, renovate or restore more than one hundred thirty-five organs for churches, homes and universities throughout the USA over the next five decades. Because of his musical training, he was one of the first organbuilders who could actually play much of the literature written for the organ. His passion was to design and voice instruments suited to play this great variety of music. Even his smallest organs encouraged exploration of the rich and colorful repertoire available.

His ability at pipe voicing was legendary among his peers. Over the years, he wrote extensively, mentored younger organbuilders and conducted several clinics to teach others about his voicing "secrets." He was a founding member of the American Institute of Organbuilders.

Retiring (theoretically) in June, 1986, McManis moved to the San Francisco Bay Area with his wife, Charlotte, who died of cancer four months after their arrival. He stayed on in California, occasionally tuning and repairing organs, and hiking in Yosemite and the Sierras. In July 1989, a Connecticut tornado that heavily damaged the McManis organ at St. John's Episcopal Church, Waterbury, Connecticut, took Charles McManis out of retirement, calling him east to replace 35 of 60 ranks in his Opus 35, first installed in 1957. Due to the extensive damage to the building, as well as the organ, several parishioners were appointed to coordinate a variety of repair programs, including Judith Fisher who was to oversee the organ restoration. After working together for eighteen months, she and Charles were married November 2, 1991. He continued working with organs in Connecticut, acting as consultant and overseeing the installation or restoration of several instruments in the area. He served as curator of the organ at St. John's for just over 10 years.

In 2001, Charles and Judith moved to Vermont. He was able to complete work on his autobiography just days before his death. A "Celebration of Charles' Life" took place January 8 at The Cathedral Church of St. Paul (Episcopal) in Burlington. Donations may be made to the Music Ministry of St. Paul's.

J. Bunker Clark died of melanoma on December 26, 2003, in Lawrence, Kansas, at the age of 72. Born on October 19, 1931, he earned a BMus and MMus in music theory, and a Ph.D. in musicology from the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Further study as a Fulbright Scholar took him to Jesus College, Cambridge University, in England. Bunker Clark's teaching career began in 1957-59 as instructor of theory and organ at Stephens College, Columbia, Missouri. From 1959-61, he served as organist-choirmaster, Christ Church Cranbrook, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. Following a 1964-65 position as lecturer in music (music history, harpsichord, piano) at the University of California, Santa Barbara, Dr. Clark began his long tenure at the University of Kansas in 1965 as assistant professor of music history; in 1969 he was promoted to associate professor, and in 1975 he became professor. He retired in 1993 as professor emeritus of music history.

An inveterate author and editor, Bunker Clark wrote on numerous topics and served as editor for Harmonie Park Press in the Detroit Studies in Music Bibliography, Detroit Monographs in Musicology/Studies in Music, and Bibliographies in American Music. In addition, he worked as general editor for Information Coordinators, which later became Harmonie Park Press. Although Dr. Clark's specialty was American church music of the English Baroque, he wrote extensively on early American keyboard music, including these books and articles, among others: Anthology of Early American Keyboard Music, 1787-1830, Recent Researches in American Music, vols. 1-2; "American Organ Music before 1830: A Critical and Descriptive Survey"; The Dawning of American Keyboard Music; American Keyboard Music through 1865; "18th-Early 20th-Century American Piano and Harpsichord Music in Anthologies, Reprints, and Recordings"; and Charles Zeuner (1795-1857): Fantasias and Fugues for Organ and Piano. In addition to his writing and teaching, Bunker Clark presented a series of radio broadcasts entitled Early American Keyboard Music. This series of 13 half-hour programs, funded by a research grant from the University of Kansas--with material gathered in 1972-73 on a National Endowment for the Humanities grant--ran in 1975 on the University of Kansas radio station KANU, and was purchased by other libraries or radio stations across the country.

Bunker Clark was a founding member of the Sonneck Society, now known as the Society for American Music, and he was awarded with the Citation for Distinguished Service at its meeting in Kansas City, February 1998. He was active in the American Musicological Society, Music Library Association, College Music Society (life member), American Musical Instrument Society, Midwestern Historical Keyboard Society, and other music organizations.

Memorial services were held on January 2, 2004, at Trinity Lutheran Church, in Lawrence, Kansas. A Michigan memorial service will be held at the Episcopal Church of the Transfiguration on August 8 at Bois Blanc Island.

Richard Frederick Horn, church musician and composer, died on June 5 in De Forest, Wisconsin, at the age of 66. He was born on March 7, 1938, in Mt. Kisko, New York, and grew up in Rochester, New York. At the age of 12 he was appointed assistant organist at his uncle's church in Philadelphia, beginning a 54-year career of church service in Pennsylvania, California, and Wisconsin. He studied organ with Catherine Baxter and Galen Weixel, but was largely self-taught. After attending Haverford College and Susquehanna University, he moved to California where he taught high school choral arts. In 1969 he moved to Madison and became resident musician at the St. Benedict Center. He married Paula Klink in 1974, settled in De Forest, and established the De Forest Piano Service. He served a number of local churches, and for the last 16 years was music director at St. Patrick's Church in downtown Madison. A long-time member of the American Guild of Organists, he achieved Colleague status in 1988. For 16 years he was a member of the Association of Church Musicians in Madison, serving eight years on their executive board and three years as dean. His choral and organ compositions, which have been performed throughout the world, are published by MorningStar Music Publishers of St. Louis. He is survived by his wife, Paula; their son, Paul William, Johannesburg, South Africa; and numerous relatives. A Mass of Christian Burial was held at St. Patrick's Church in Madison on June 9.

M. Searle Wright, 86, of Binghamton, New York, died on June 3 after a period of declining health. Mr. Wright is survived by cousins and numerous friends and colleagues worldwide. He was born in Susquehanna, Pennsylvania, in 1918. After his family moved to Binghamton, he took an interest in theatre organs, and as a teenager played the Wurlitzer organ at the Capitol Theatre. He later studied classical organ and church music with T. Tertius Noble at St. Thomas Church in New York City, and with the French organist and composer Joseph Bonnet. He attended Columbia University and the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary, where he joined the faculty in 1947. Searle Wright was a Fellow of the AGO, of Trinity College, London, and of the Royal Canadian College of Organists. He was the first American to perform a solo recital at Westminster Abbey in London. For many years, he attended and participated in the Three Choirs Festival in England. He was a published composer, with works for orchestra, chamber ensemble, chorus and organ. Many of these works have been recorded, and his last written work was published about three years ago.

From 1952 to 1971, Searle Wright was director of chapel music at St. Paul's Chapel at Columbia University in New York City, and from 1969 to 1971 was president of the AGO. In 1977 he returned to Binghamton to become the first Link Professor of Organ at Binghamton University and organist for the B.C. Pops Orchestra. In addition, he was organist and choir director at the First Congregational Church for 20 years. A memorial service was held on June 13 at Trinity Memorial Church in Binghamton.

Gerald Albert Bales died on July 4 at University Hospital, London, Ontario, Canada, at the age of 83 after a heart attack. Born in Toronto in 1919, Bales was first taught by his mother. He gave a piano recital at age seven and an organ recital at age 13. His teachers in Toronto included Healey Willan. He served as organist and choirmaster at St. Anne's Anglican Church, Toronto; Rosedale United Church, Toronto; St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Toronto; the Cathedral Church of the Redeemer, Calgary; and the Cathedral Church of St. Mark, Minneapolis. He was professor of organ, choral and orchestral conducting, organ literature, and orchestration at the University of Ottawa from 1971-1984. He formed the St. Andrew's Singers and the Calgary Orchestra and Chorus Association and gave regular performances for the CBC. In 1957 he was chosen as recitalist for the First International Congress of Organists in London, England. In 1974 he was made an Honorary Fellow of the Royal Canadian College of Organists, and was honored for his contributions to music by being named to the Order of Canada in 1996. He composed music for organ, choir, and liturgy, in addition to scores for film and radio. Funeral services were held on July 10 at St. Paul's Anglican Cathedral, London, Ontario.

Lewis C. Bruun, of Williamsport, Maryland, and formerly of Eureka, California, died on August 2, 2002. He was 67. Born on August 29, 1934 in San Francisco, he was a graduate of Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey, and also studied at Peabody Conservatory of Music, Baltimore, and the Royal School of Church Music in England. He served as organist and choir director at numerous churches on the East Coast, including Old First Church, Newark, New Jersey; John Wesley United Methodist Church, Hagerstown, Maryland; and most recently during his semi-retirement at St. Augustine's Roman Catholic Church in Williamsport, Maryland. Mr. Bruun had played numerous concerts including programs at Washington National Cathedral and National City Christian Church in Washington, DC; the Cadet Chapel at U.S. Military Academy, West Point, New York; Academy of Music in Philadelphia; St. Thomas Church, Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, and St. Paul's Chapel at Columbia University, all in New York City; St. Mary's Cathedral in Edinburgh, Scotland; and Westminster Abbey in London. He served on the faculties of Westminster Choir College and Hagerstown Junior College, and was a member of the American Guild of Organists. A memorial service was held on September 7 at St. John's Episcopal Church in Hagerstown, with former choir members and 11 organists participating.