R. E. Coleberd
Introduction
The careers of numerous American organbuilders in the late 19th and early 20th centuries are the story of a journey—from Europe to the United States or from shop to shop. From Germany came George Kilgen and Philipp Wirsching; from England John T. Austin, Octavius Marshall, and Henry Pilcher. In the U.S., Adolph Reuter’s sojourn took him from Barckhoff to Pilcher, Verney, Casavant (South Haven), and Wicks before he founded his own firm first in Trenton, Illinois, and then Lawrence, Kansas. A. G. Sparling moved from Lyon & Healy to Stevens to Holtkamp. These individuals and their firms are typical of the rich and colorful history of pipe organ building in America. Yet perhaps none of them comes close to the odyssey of Stanley Wyatt Williams 1881–1971 (see photo). Williams’ lifetime spans the arc of his era—from Robert Hope-Jones to G. Donald Harrison (Aeolian-Skinner) with stops at Electrolian, Wirsching, Murray Harris, Robert-Morton, Kimball, and E. M. Skinner. His talents as a voicer and tonal finisher played a pivotal role in the succession of nameplates in the U.S. West Coast pipe organ industry, and his stellar reputation led to important sales by recognized national builders.
Early Life
Stanley Wyatt Williams was born in London on October 29, 1881, the youngest of four sons and two daughters of George Edward Williams, who described himself as a “gentleman,” having made a comfortable living in the brewing industry. His family was musical; his mother sang a solo for Queen Victoria, and each of the sons was taught a musical instrument.1 As he recalled many years later: “I was always a little bit crazy about organs, not that I knew anything about them.”2 After attending the Mostyn House School in Cheshire and the Whitgift Grammar School at Croydon, Surrey, he enrolled in Dulwich College (southeast of London), founded in 1619.3 G. Donald Harrison graduated from there some years later. Suffering a health setback, Williams withdrew from school on the advice of a London physician.4 In the ensuing soul-searching, a well-known London organist, Charles Lawrence, took him to see an organbuilder and the instrument in the builder’s home. “That interested me more than ever,” he later commented, and he determined to become an organbuilder.5 His daughter, Mary Cowell, recalled that the family apparently was none too pleased with his choice of vocation, considering organbuilding a “trade” and thus beneath the dignity of their aristocratic image.6 Nonetheless his father paid the two or three hundred pounds required to enroll him as an apprentice to the legendary organbuilder, Robert Hope-Jones.7
An electrical engineer by profession who held an important position with the National Telephone Company in Liverpool, Hope-Jones was organist and choirmaster of St. John’s Church in Birkenhead, across the Mersey River from Liverpool. With local financial backing he organized the Hope-Jones Organ Company in Birkenhead, building instruments first in the factory of Norman & Beard in Norwich, and then in the Ingram, Hope-Jones shop in Hereford.8 Williams joined him in 1899 at age 18 (see photo, page 25). He couldn’t have found a better teacher or a more prophetic environment in which to acquire organbuilding skills and prepare for what would become a most interesting career. “As an apprentice . . . I was assigned to work at every phase of organ building. I voiced, I carpentered, I electrified—everything about organbuilding had to be learned. It was something I was later very grateful for.”9 “Not only a genius, but a great teacher,” said Williams of Hope-Jones: “He taught all of us to think for ourselves.”10
The controversial and enigmatic Hope-Jones would exert a profound and far-reaching influence on the King of Instruments through his revolutionary tonal and mechanical innovations. He pioneered what would emerge as the symphonic-orchestral voicing paradigm that swept the American industry in the 1920s. This type of instrument was marked by an ensemble of different tonal groups all at the same pitch, in contrast to the time-honored chorus of different pitches within the same tonal family. Mixtures and mutations were discarded and replaced with unison voices of comparatively wide or narrow scale pipes on higher wind pressures. The entire instrument was enclosed.11 Hope-Jones’s mechanical inventions included double-touch, a key characteristic of theatre organs, and high resistance electro-magnets requiring very little current.12
After completing shop routines, Williams joined the road crew and worked on the organ in the Hereford cathedral. There he met and fell in love with Isabel Robbins, whom he would marry in January 1908. When Hope-Jones immigrated to the United States in the spring of 1903, Stanley elected to remain with the former partner, Eustace Ingram, finishing instruments then under construction. A fellow worker asked whether he had ever considered moving to the States, and told him that an American firm, the Electrolian Company of Hoboken, New Jersey, was looking for a voicer. He interviewed, accepted an offer, and bidding farewell to his sweetheart in Hereford crossed the Atlantic in 1906.13 Williams was to be among several former Hope-Jones apprentices who came to America.14
The Land of Opportunity
Voicers are the cornerstone of any organbuilding enterprise. Stanley Williams was called to voice and finish instruments built by the Los Angeles Art Organ Company, now relocated to Hoboken and renamed the Electrolian Organ Company.15 He installed and finished the Electrolian-built 19-rank, two-manual and pedal instrument in the Wolcott School in Denver, Colorado (among whose pupils was Mamie Dowd, the future wife of President Dwight Eisenhower), and finished an instrument built for a Presbyterian church in Philadelphia. His reputation as a gifted voicer and finisher soon became well-known, for, as he later recounted, when he returned from Philadelphia to Hoboken, seven job offers awaited him.16 The Electrolian assets were next acquired by the legendary Philipp Wirsching of Salem, Ohio, whom Stanley met when he finished the instrument Wirsching built in 1907 for Our Lady of Grace Roman Catholic Church in Hoboken.17 Wirsching moved the business to Ohio, and Stanley joined him there.
Among the Electrolian assets Wirsching acquired was a contract for a two-manual and pedal organ with player attachment for the new palace of the Maharaja of Mysore, India. In January 1908, Williams returned to England, married his sweetheart Isabel, and in July the couple set sail for India to install the organ, traveling through the Mediterranean and the Suez Canal.18 This was to be the “Great Adventure,” surely one of the most fantastic episodes (see photo, page 25) in the history of organbuilding the world over, and long a familiar topic of conversation in the rich folklore of the industry (see James Stark and Charles Wirsching Jr., The Great Adventure, forthcoming). Stanley and Isabel returned to England in January 1910, and in March sailed for America where Stanley resumed work with Wirsching.
While finishing an instrument in Terre Haute, Indiana, Williams received a telegram from the Murray M. Harris Organ Company in Los Angeles asking him to come to the West Coast to finish voicing the instrument they were building for St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Los Angeles19 (see stoplist). Charles McQuigg, the Harris head voicer, had left the company, no doubt mindful of its precarious financial condition.20 Williams responded, completed the assignment, and returned to Ohio. Then the Harris people, having recognized his skills and eager to maintain their reputation for fine instruments, offered him the head voicer position in the newly reorganized firm. Williams accepted and moved to Los Angeles in 1911 where he would remain for the balance of his career. As David Lennox Smith, Harris scholar, observed: “the most notable addition to the staff of the Murray M. Harris Company in its final years was Stanley Wyatt Williams.”21
Los Angeles Organbuilders
At the turn of the century the market for the King of Instruments on the West Coast was vibrant and growing rapidly, built upon the tidal wave of immigration and the rapid pace of church construction in the emerging metropolitan landscapes. Moreover, the spirit of enterprise was everywhere, marked by numerous “self-made” men eager to apply their talents and fortunes to railroad building, telegraph, mercantile trade, real estate development—and organbuilding. Local businessmen and their funding initially played a pivotal role in the succession of organbuilder nameplates in Los Angeles, as they did in establishing the industry elsewhere, for example, in Erie, Pennsylvania.22 But these “outsiders” invested with virtually no inkling of the inherently high-risk business of building pipe organs. Cost estimating, pricing, competition, and, especially, critical problems of cash flow vexed most builders and overwhelmed others.23 As Stanley explained: “You had to watch your pennies very closely to have a couple left when you finished an organ.”24 For a while the euphoric atmosphere of large buildings, talented employees, and fine, heavily publicized instruments masked these fundamental concerns. But before long financial realities took over.
Murray M. Harris
Organbuilding in Los Angeles began in 1895 when Fletcher & Harris built a two-manual instrument for the Church of the Ascension, Episcopal, in Sierra Madre.25 Murray M. Harris (1866–1922), a skilled voicer who had apprenticed with Hutchings in Boston, continued on his own. In 1900 he recruited a cadre of skilled artisans led by William Boone Fleming (1849–1940) who became superintendent. Harris acquired a spacious factory building and prospered by building instruments for the local market.26 In July 1900, the firm was incorporated as the Murray M. Harris Organ Company and capitalized at $100,000.27 In 1903 Harris contracted to build a 140-stop Audsley-designed instrument for the St. Louis Exposition. It was to be voiced, at Audsley’s request, by John W. Whitely, a well-known English voicer, described as “one of the pioneer spirits in the Birkenhead shops of Mr. Hope-Jones.”28 The St. Louis organ was something of a watershed in American organbuilding history. As David Lennox Smith commented: “The influence of the St. Louis organ could soon be seen in the String Organ divisions, multiple enclosures, and other new features that were included with growing frequency in specifications for large new organs.”29
Soon financial problems began that would continue to plague Harris. Working capital proved inadequate to finish the mammoth St. Louis instrument. In August 1903, the Los Angeles Times reported that shareholders, including Harris, his wife Helen, and others, were delinquent in court-ordered assessments of $10 per share on their stock. The problem resulted when only 352 shares, par value $100 per share, were actually subscribed, and thus of the authorized capitalization of $100,000, only $35,200 was paid-in and perhaps even less. The court stipulated that the additional stock be auctioned off at the company offices to acquire the funds necessary to keep operating.30
Enter Eben Smith, an archetypical entrepreneur who was described in the press as a “mining man” and “Colorado banker.” He had made a fortune in Colorado silver mines and was president of the Pacific Wireless Telephone Company.31 Smith purchased 500 shares of Harris stock, thereby acquiring a controlling interest in the business. He renamed it the Los Angeles Art Organ Company.32 In 1905 a patent infringement lawsuit threatened the company with liquidation, whereupon key employees, led by Fleming, moved east for a brief sojourn in Hoboken, New Jersey, under the name of Electrolian Organ Company.33 By September 1907, the employees, minus Fleming (who moved to Philadelphia where he was subsequently employed to superintend the installation of the St. Louis Exposition organ in the Wanamaker store), were back in Los Angeles, having joined the reorganized Murray M. Harris Organ Company.34 The head voicer was now Charles W. McQuigg, a protegé of John W. Whitely, who had remained in Los Angeles and served briefly as the Pacific Coast representative of the Barckhoff Church Organ Company of Pomeroy, Ohio.35
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church and First Church of Christ, Scientist
The 1911 instrument Stanley Williams was called to voice and finish reflected the manifold changes in stoplist design and voicing taking place in the industry. With Harris’s training at Hutchings and acquaintance with other work in the east, it was not surprising that his early stoplists closely paralleled the work of these builders.36 The 1901 Murray Harris at Stanford University is a good example. As described by Manuel Rosales, who restored this instrument in 1986, the Stanford Harris was a typical 19th-century instrument featuring a well-developed principal chorus on the Great, a secondary chorus on the Swell, and a small Choir organ with not a full chorus but other colors. The voicing, on three to four inches wind pressure, was gentle and clear. Flutes were not exaggerated, i.e., no tibia tone, strings were precise and clear, and pedal stops were well balanced with the manuals. In contrast, the St. Paul’s specification (see stoplist, page 24) was confined to an ensemble of unison and octave voices at 16¢, 8¢, and 4¢ pitches, with emphasis on the 8¢ voice, representing the trend of the day. Diapason scales were much larger, and string scales much smaller than in earlier instruments.37 This characteristic most likely reflected the influence of John Whitely, the voicer who was closely associated with Audsley and who joined Harris in 1903, as well as Charles McQuigg, said to have “absorbed much of Whitely’s technic and ideal.”38
The first organ where Stanley’s design influence is found is the 1912 instrument for the First Church of Christ, Scientist, Los Angeles (see stoplist). Having also felt the impress of Whitely in England, he substituted a Tibia Clausa, a Hope-Jones stop, for the customary Gross Flute on the Great.39 But as Rosales points out, the absence of a tremolo on this division indicates this voice was viewed as filling out the ensemble, in contrast to a solo voice as found in a theatre organ. This organ contained a Dolce Cornet on the Swell and a 22?3' and 2' on the Great in what might be termed a vestigial chorus, but in no way could it be considered a well-developed Great chorus, which by this time had largely disappeared from American stoplists. What emerges is an accompanimental instrument in which the high-pressure Tuba, dominating the ensemble or playing solo against it, is symbolic of the trend.40
Tonal Philosophy, 1913
Williams’ expertise in voicing and finishing was soon recognized. In February 1913, he was the featured speaker at a meeting of the Los Angeles Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.41 His comments reflected his knowledge of English organbuilding, his background with Hope-Jones, and focused on the character and content of foundation tone. True diapason tone must predominate, he asserted. Subject to broad limits, it is bounded by string tone at one end of the spectrum and flute tone at the other. Old diapasons were “mellow and sweet,” a cantabile sound suited to today’s Choir organ. He faulted “Old Masters” for failing to preserve the character and power of voicing throughout the entire compass, which he attributed to imperfect scaling. The prevalence of upperwork and the introduction of “harsh” reeds, in the middle of the 19th century, overbalanced diapason tone, Williams said, leading cynics to refer to the “sausage frying” sound of a full Swell. To remedy this result, diapasons were increased in scale and number. Hard, stringy and nasal, they were brilliant in a way that favored upper partials, sacrificing fundamental tone and thereby blending well with mutations and reeds. Then the pendulum swung back to the other extreme and high-cut mouths produced a flabby tone devoid of the necessary partials and bordering on the fluty.'
He outlined the foundations of a three-manual organ, reflecting the Hope-Jones influence and the tastes of the time. On the Great manual the first diapason should be large scale and with a leathered lip; the second diapason, of medium scale, not leathered, but not in any way stringy. The third should be a “mild and sweet” voice, and quite soft, much like the work of Father Bernard Smith. On the Swell, a Hope-Jones phonon-type should be the first diapason, large scale and leather-lipped, necessary to balance the Swell reeds. The second should be a violin or horn diapason. For the choir organ, a mild geigen or gemshorn was the preferred voice. He cautioned that every stop in a well-voiced organ must have its “individuality,” and lamented builder fads, which he found detrimental to the advancement of the instrument. He challenged organists and organbuilders to work together to uphold the dignity of the instrument and its music to insure its high place in the church service. Williams’ comments offer an interesting contrast to today’s perspective and were superseded in his own thinking as reflected in his work with Kimball and Skinner.
Murray M. Harris, continued
In 1912, a year after Williams joined the Harris firm, financial problems reappeared. Murray Harris sold his interest to a retired mining man from Mexico named Heuer, who soon became disillusioned with the meager (if any) profits in organbuilding, and sold out.42 In August 1913, control of the company passed to E. S. Johnston, former manager of the Eilers Music Company in Los Angeles, who in November that year advertised the Johnston Organ and Piano Manufacturing Company as successor to the Murray M. Harris Co.43 Johnston and real estate developer Suburban Homes then agreed to build a 75,000 square foot factory in Van Nuys, which opened in November 1913. Soon, however, working capital was again exhausted. Johnston and his partner Bell journeyed east in search of funds but apparently returned empty-handed.44 Then Suburban Homes of Van Nuys, having turned down Johnston’s plea for financial backing, were the new owners by default. They renamed the business California Organ Company and promptly palmed it off to the Title Insurance and Trust Company of Los Angeles, holders of the mortgage on the factory building.45
Robert-Morton Organ Company
At this time a sea change was taking place in the whole concept of pipe organs and in the industry that built them. The theatre market, with its radically different instrument, was growing rapidly, having displaced the higher-cost pit orchestra. Equipped with tibias, kinuras and other voices as well as traps and toy counters, these instruments were ideally suited for accompanying silent movies. The Rudolph Wurlitzer Company, whose name would soon become the generic term for the theatre pipe organ, was already enjoying a nationwide business. Within less than ten years, organbuilding in America would be virtually divided into two separate industries, with Wurlitzer, Robert-Morton, Barton, Link, Marr & Colton, Page, and Geneva identified almost exclusively with the theatre paradigm. Other builders, although they built theatre organs, were primarily identified with the church instrument and market.
The California Organ Company was at a crossroads. Would they continue in the church organ industry, now well established nationwide and well represented on the West Coast? Or would they recognize and capitalize on the growing theatre organ market? The resources were in place in Van Nuys: a well-appointed modern factory, skilled artisans, and a talented, experienced senior management, which together had guaranteed the succession of nameplates. As the late Tom B’hend, whose research chronicles much of the history of this era, observed: “The Wurlitzer Hope-Jones instruments were gaining popularity; the unit principle was being accepted without reserve by up and coming theatre organists . . . If the California Organ Company were to enter the theatre field, it would be necessary to produce a unit instrument of comparable quality.”46 With his rich background as an apprentice of Hope-Jones, who could be better qualified to design and build such an instrument than Stanley Williams? As Williams later reflected: “I was the one man on the West Coast who could put this sort of instrument into production.”47
Enter the American Photo Player Company of Berkeley, California. In 1912 this firm produced a small tubular-pneumatic pit instrument combining a few ranks of flue pipes and perhaps a reed stop with a piano. Booming sales and nationwide distribution alerted them to the tremendous potential for a unit theatre organ.48 Negotiations beginning in the spring of 1916 led to the merger of the California Organ and American Photo Player companies and on May 2, 1917, the Robert-Morton Organ Company was duly incorporated.49 As the late David Junchen, noted theatre organ biographer, commented: “Werner (Harry J. Werner, Photo Player promoter) had found just the ticket for expanding his theatre sales, and the owners of the California Organ Co. had found a buyer for the albatross they didn’t want anyway.”50 Stanley Williams was named plant superintendent and the following year vice president. Opus 1, a two-manual organ designed by Williams, was built for the California Theatre in Santa Barbara.51 As B’hend noted: “The men and women who built pipe organs in Southern California never left their work benches to take up fabrication of the Robert-Morton pipe organ.”52
The new company increasingly focused on the theatre instrument, but initially it continued to service a spectrum of the local market, including churches. In 1917 Morton built a $10,000 instrument for the A. Hamburger and Sons Department Store in Los Angeles. The Los Angeles Times noted that it was the first organ of its kind on the Pacific Coast, and was acquired “for the purpose of giving the people a musical education and making shopping more pleasant.”53 In 1920 Williams sold and most likely designed a 72-rank, six-division, four-manual organ for Bovard Auditorium at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles.54 Edward Hopkins lauded Williams’ “English training, practical experience at the voicing machine, and open-minded progressiveness,” saying the Bovard organ “stands pre-eminent.”55 This instrument featured Morton’s horseshoe console (Morton didn’t build drawknob consoles) and concrete swell boxes enclosing the entire instrument.
W. W. Kimball Company
Williams, a realist in business matters, recognized that Morton made the right choice in electing to build theatre pipe organs. Yet his heart was with the classic church organ, and the Bovard instrument no doubt reinforced his convictions. As his daughter reflected: “He didn’t like traps and toy counters.”56 He resigned from Morton in early 1922, and was feted by employees at a Saturday afternoon gathering at the shop in recognition of his eleven years service to Morton and its predecessors.57 Momentarily, he elected to go out on his own. He and his wife Isabel, together with Carl B. Sartwell, his colleague at Morton, formed Stanley W. Williams, Incorporated and built perhaps one or two instruments, his daughter believes; the details are unknown.58 But the odds were against them. By this time what local capital had been available was already committed to the theatre organ business, and nationally known church organ builders were well represented on the West Coast. Stanley soon wisely recognized that with his interests, his next opportunity lay with an established (i.e., well-capitalized) church organ builder.
Williams then began a five-year sojourn with the W. W. Kimball Company of Chicago as their West Coast representative.59 His decision was no doubt influenced by his former colleague in Van Nuys, Robert P. Elliot, with whom he shared many details in a common philosophy of organbuilding. The much-traveled Elliot, who joined California Organ as vice president and general manager in October 1916, left in May 1918 to become head of the organ department at Kimball in Chicago.60 A dynamic and aggressive firm, Kimball was ever alert to market opportunities, and recognized that their name, well-established in pianos and reed organs, carried over into the market for pipe organs. A large newspaper advertisement by the Eilers Music House in Los Angeles, in April 1912, promoting the Kimball Player Piano, mentioned Kimball as “America’s Greatest Pipe Organ Builders.”61
During this period the Kimball company was making far-reaching changes in the mechanical and tonal character of their instrument, attributed primarily to the influence of Elliot and George Michel, the latter widely acclaimed for his superb reed and string voicing. As Junchen noted: “If George Michel was the voice of the Kimball organ, R. P. Elliot was its soul.”62 Improvements in Kimball engineering and action design, coupled with elegant workmanship, were marked by abandonment of two-pressure bellows and two-pressure ventil windchests with hinged pouches in favor of a pitman-action windchest with springs under the pouches. Tonally, Kimball moved away from the liturgical motif in church organ design toward a pronounced symphonic and orchestral paradigm, a new direction for American organbuilders.63
In Los Angeles
Stanley Williams opened his Kimball office in the downtown emporium of the Sherman-Clay Music Company. “For half a century, Sherman, Clay & Co. has been the philosopher and friend of good music on the Pacific Coast,” they advertised.64 When churches went looking for a pipe organ, they logically began with a music retailer. The connection between music retailers and organ sales was a salient but long-overlooked feature of marketing the instrument during this time. As early as 1902, Harris was represented by Kohler & Chase in San Francisco and then independently by Robert Fletcher Tilton, a well-known musician with an office in the Kohler & Chase building.65 In Los Angeles, the Aeolian Company was represented by the George J. Birkel Music Company, and Welte-Mignon by the Barker Brothers department store. Showrooms soon appeared. By 1926 Wurlitzer, Robert-Morton, and Link all maintained showrooms in Los Angeles.66
Williams’ work with Kimball began immediately, as did the maintenance business he established. He installed, finished, and perhaps sold the 23-rank, three-manual Kimball organ in the world-famous Angelus Temple in Los Angeles, an early megachurch seating 5,300 (see stoplist, page 27). This church, dedicated on New Year’s Day 1923, was built by the flamboyant evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson, founder of the International Church of the Four Square Gospel.67 It is a colorful instrument now undergoing restoration in what was once a wonderful acoustic, ideally suited to the worship style and tastes of the founder and the congregation. In what must have been the pinnacle of unification and duplexing, 23 ranks of pipes were spread over 61 speaking stops. Each rank was playable at three or more pitches and duplexed to two or more manuals. Synthetic stops included a saxophone and orchestral oboe. Couplers greatly increased the power and versatility of the instrument. The Orchestral division is in the same chamber as the Great, sharing voices and thereby giving the illusion of a larger organ as does the number of stop tabs on the console.68
Other Kimball sales by Williams in Los Angeles churches included organs in Hollywood Presbyterian, St. James Episcopal, Precious Blood Roman Catholic, and Rosewood Methodist churches.69 He also supervised the re-installation of the 1911 Murray Harris instrument in St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral in the new edifice in 1924, replacing the original console with one built by Kimball.70 The largest Kimball organ he sold, in 1926, was a 56-rank, 65-stop, four-manual for the First Baptist Church of Los Angeles (see stoplist).71 The West Coast correspondent of The Diapason, Roland Diggle, described it as having “lovely solo voices and a stunning ensemble.”72
Skinner and Aeolian-Skinner
In 1927 Stanley Williams made his last move, the capstone of his illustrious career, joining Ernest M. Skinner of Boston as Pacific Coast representative.73 He welcomed the opportunity to affiliate with America’s foremost builder of this era, and Skinner in turn was pleased that a man of such knowledge and reputation would now add luster to his prestigious firm. This association was celebrated with a dinner for the local organ fraternity at a fashionable downtown restaurant.74 In July 1928, Williams installed a two-manual, ten-rank, duplexed and unified Skinner instrument, Opus 690, in his home. An enclosed instrument representative of small residence organs built by the Boston patriarch, it comprised a diapason, unit flute, flute and celeste, string and celeste, and four reeds: vox humana, clarinet, French horn, and an English horn—the latter two Skinner favorites.75 Sales of two-, three-, and four-manual instruments began immediately: a four-manual for Immanuel Presbyterian Church, Los Angeles, in 1927, Opus 676, and in 1930 a 78-rank, four-manual organ for the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), Opus 818, designed by Harold Gleason in consultation with Lynwood Farnam and G. Donald Harrison (see photo above).76 The same year another four-manual organ was built for Temple Methodist Church in San Francisco, Opus 819.77 Sales in 1931 included a four-manual organ for First Congregational Church, Los Angeles, Opus 856, and the following year a four-manual for the residence of prominent Pasadena pediatrician Dr. Raymond B. Mixsell, Opus 893. Organizer of the Bach Festival in Pasadena, Dr. Mixsell engaged Marcel Dupré to play the inaugural recital on his instrument.78 Williams’ extensive service business, established when he began working for Kimball in 1922, carried him through World War II, when organ companies could no longer build new instruments. After the war, heavy sales resumed.
Tonal Philosophy, 1959
In 1959 Stanley was asked to appraise and recommend updates for the 1926 Kimball organ at the First Baptist Church in Los Angeles, an instrument he had sold and installed.79 The document he prepared sheds light on the evolution of Williams’ tonal philosophy and offers key insights into the prevailing orthodoxy of the 1920s, especially the practices of the Kimball Company, a long-neglected major builder. He asserted that during the 1920s, the entire organbuilding industry in the United States was “to some degree” influenced by the theatre pipe organ. Williams lamented this trend, which saw higher wind pressures and voicing of flutes, diapasons, strings, and reeds that tended to isolate and magnify their differences. He acknowledged the positive contribution of the theatre epoch in “better engineering practice and the speed and reliability of action.”
Williams called for major tonal revisions to make the instrument more suitable for worship services, choir accompaniment, and interpretation of the instrument’s great literature. These revisions included replacing all flue pipes in the Great division except the Gemshorn and the Melodia, substituting a Quintadena for the 16¢ Double Open Diapason, and eliminating the Tromba (see stoplists, pages 27 and above). On the Swell manual the many new ranks recommended included a “small scale bright tone trumpet” in place of the Cornopean, and on the Choir new mutations and a Krummhorn. He recommended revoicing the Gamba and Celeste on the Solo division for a “broader and softer” sound. In 1965 this instrument was enla
