Paul Jacobs England tour

Homer Ashton Ferguson III received his bachelor of arts degree with a major in music from Illinois College in May 2000, studying organ with Rudolf Zuiderveld and piano and conducting with Garrett Allman. In May 2002, he completed his master of music degree at Arizona State University under the direction of Kimberly Marshall, where he is currently working on his doctoral degree in organ performance. He is also the organist and music associate at Central United Methodist Church in Phoenix, Arizona.

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

Bach and Beyond: Bach and Bach Reception in the 19th Century

November 7-8, 2003, scholars and performers gathered for the organ symposium “Bach and Beyond--Bach and Bach Reception in the 19th Century,” sponsored by Illinois College (Jacksonville, Illinois), under the direction of Dr. Rudolf Zuiderveld, professor of music and college organist, and co-sponsored by MacMurray College (Jacksonville, Illinois), First Presbyterian Church (Springfield, Illinois), and John Brombaugh (Eugene, Oregon).

Day One: by Homer Ashton Ferguson III

Rammelkamp Chapel at Illinois College and Annie Merner Chapel at MacMurray College were the venues for the first day. Registration began at 1:00 p.m. in the foyer of Rammelkamp Chapel, and James Dawson, owner of Oberlin Music in Oberlin, Ohio, set up a sales booth for conferees to peruse various publications concerning the organ.

After a warm welcome by Dr. Zuiderveld and Dr. Axel Steuer, president of Illinois College, the symposium began with the keynote lecture given by Russell Stinson, the Josephine Emily Brown Professor of Music at Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas. Stinson’s lecture, “Bach’s Organ Works and Mendelssohn’s Grand Tour,” revealed some new insights into the reception of Bach’s organ music during the nineteenth century, the era of the so-called Bach revival, through the examination of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. The address gave conference participants a preview of Stinson’s recent research which has been codified in his latest book, The Reception of Bach’s Organ Works from Mendelssohn to Brahms, scheduled for publication by Oxford University Press in late 2005. The book will contain four rather hefty chapters on four major figures of 19th-century music (Mendelssohn, Schumann, Liszt, and Brahms) and will investigate how they responded to Bach’s organ music, not only as composers but also as performers, critics, theorists, and teachers.

Mendelssohn was the ideal figure for the “rediscovery” of J. S. Bach’s genius. He composed over thirty works for the organ, often using the organ music of Bach as a model, his editions of Bach’s organ chorales were among the first ever published, and as a concert organist he introduced Bach’s music to the general public. Stinson dwelled on one particular time period in Mendelssohn’s career, his self-named “big trip” of 1830-32, the longest Bildungsreise ever undertaken by a musician in modern times. His travels took him through Austria, Italy, Switzerland, France, and England as well as many German cities.

Mendelssohn’s journey began as a Bach pilgrimage, with stops in Leipzig and Weimar, where he was presented with manuscript copies of two Bach works by the publisher Breitkopf and Härtel. His time was also spent with Goethe, who owned six Bach manuscripts, two of which contained organ compositions. Goethe, a long-time fan of Bach, requested that Mendelssohn visit the local organist. Upon doing so, Mendelssohn reported that he played the “D-minor Toccata.” Stinson continued at some length in establishing that the “D-minor Toccata” reference was definitely a reference to the infamous BWV 565. This conclusion stems primarily from a letter sent from Paris to his family in 1831 in which he requests to be sent copies of six different Bach organ works, including a “Prelude and Fugue in D Minor,” which he identifies by notating the first two beats of the Dorian toccata. This eliminates the Dorian as a possibility because Mendelssohn knew that piece as a prelude, not a toccata.

In late July 1831, Mendelssohn arrived in Switzerland. In need of practice, he began to work on his technique using Bach’s organ works as his pedagogical tool. A letter Mendelssohn wrote to his family while stranded in the village of Sargans revealed that even at this point in his career he still lacked, at least according to his standards, the pedal technique necessary to perform Bach’s big organ works.

Upon his arrival in Munich several weeks later, Mendelssohn continued to focus his attention on mastering his pedal technique. Again, he found himself struggling in his conquest, only this time the organ he had to practice on was partially to blame. Mendelssohn wrote in a letter to his family, “I also play the organ every day for an hour. But unfortunately I cannot practice as I wish because the pedalboard lacks the five uppermost notes.” He did marvel at the beauty of the organ, though, and commented on finding the perfect registration for the famous setting of Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele.

As Stinson continued to demonstrate the influence of Bach’s music upon Mendelssohn, he touched briefly upon Mendelssohn’s sense of profundity in sharing Bach’s organ works with his family and friends. In an account regarding BWV 740, Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott, Vater, Stinson remarked upon the popularity of playing Bach’s organ works as keyboard duets on the piano. Within a rather emotional letter dated November 14, 1831, Mendelssohn sent this chorale to his sisters Fanny and Beckchen to play as a duet, noting, “Now play this chorale with Beckchen, as long as you are together, and think of me while doing so.” Stinson further illustrated this by quoting Fanny in a letter she had written to Felix two years earlier, apropos of Bach’s organ preludes that: “Beckchen is pounding out the pedal part with virtuosity, and it does my heart good to hear her. Old Bach would laugh himself to death if he could see it.” At this point in the lecture Dr. Stinson and his student, Skye Hart, resurrected an old performance practice by playing BWV 740 on the piano, in duet form.

On April 22, 1832, Mendelssohn sojourned back to London, regularly playing the postlude at Sunday morning services at St. Paul’s Cathedral, even as he had done to great acclaim in a previous visit in 1829. The organ at St. Paul’s proved to be the ideal instrument on which to perform Bach’s music, due to its larger compass in comparison to other instruments in London. Mendelssohn’s organ playing there is well documented and Stinson went into detail to support the fact that Mendelssohn’s Bach playing was revolutionary for the English organ scene. It was in London that Mendelssohn achieved the level of mastery that he had sought in the performance of Bach’s organ works.

Within this discussion one of Stinson’s most remarked-upon assertions concerned the Prelude and Fugue in E minor, BWV 533, the so-nicknamed “Cathedral.” Stinson believes that it was Mendelssohn’s introduction and repeated performance of this work to English audiences at St. Paul’s Cathedral that led to its nickname. All of the conference participants, including Christoph Wolff, could not think of any evidence to contradict this assertion and were in agreement that this may very well be the forgotten source of this often-quoted moniker.

Stinson concluded his stimulating opening to this conference, noting, “(Mendelssohn) would continue to occupy himself with Bach’s organ works his entire life--as a performer, composer, editor, antiquarian, pedagogue, and ambassador-at-large. Without question, he was the most influential champion of this repertory during the early Romantic era.”

The conference continued with a recital by Jay Peterson, professor of music and college organist at MacMurray College. Performed in Annie Merner Chapel on the MacMurray College campus, the recital featured the historic 1952 Æolian-Skinner Organ, Opus 1150, of four manuals and 64 ranks. This organ, installed under the auspices of Professor Robert Glasgow, then a member of the music faculty, has been dutifully guarded and maintained by Peterson. He recently completed a compact disc recording of this organ featuring American organ music in celebration of the fiftieth birthday of this landmark.

Dr. Peterson readily showed off the colors of the organ through his performance of 19th-century organ music, demonstrating his ability as a commanding performer. The program: Sonata in B-flat, op. 65, no. 4, Felix Mendelssohn; O World, I Now Must Leave Thee, My Heart Abounds With Pleasure, Blessed Ye Who Live In Faith, O God, Thou Faithful God, My Heart Is Ever Yearning, op. 122, Johannes Brahms; Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H, Franz Liszt.

Day one of the symposium concluded with a recital by Douglas Reed, professor of music and university organist at the University of Evansville, on the Hart Sesquicentennial Organ in Illinois College’s Rammelkamp Chapel. This recital attracted a large audience from the surrounding community as it was the November event on Illinois College’s McGaw Fine Arts Series.

Building upon a theme set earlier by Jay Peterson at MacMurray College, Dr. Reed played a program dedicated solely to the masters of the 19th century. His program construction was well-conceived as he “book-ended” his recital by opening with the first movement of the Symphonie Romane by Charles-Marie Widor and then closed with the Final. Originally premiered in 1900 in Berlin, Widor received his inspiration for this symphony from plainchant. Reed continued with a performance of Robert Schumann’s Six Studies for the Pedal Piano, opus 56 (1845). The remainder of his program consisted of Brahms’ Prelude and Fugue in A Minor and Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 5 in D Major.

The evening ended with a reception in Kirby Rotunda on the campus of Illinois College; organ scholars socialized and expounded upon ideas new and old. The inaugural kickoff of Illinois College’s biannual organ symposium was indeed a success. Events are currently being scheduled for November of 2005 and November of 2007, with focus in ‘07 on Dieterich Buxtehude in commemoration of the 300th anniversary of his death.

Day Two: by Joyce Johnson Robinson

All of Saturday’s events took place at First Presbyterian Church of Springfield, home to John Brombaugh’s 3-manual, 70-rank Opus 35.

The day began with an organ demonstration, “Music around Johann Sebastian Bach,” by Rudolf Zuiderveld, organist of First Presbyterian and professor of music at Illinois College in Jacksonville. The program comprised works by Bach’s predecessors, contemporaries, and successors, from Frescobaldi through Brahms, and included a hymn, “If You But Trust in God to Guide You” (Wer nur den lieben Gott), whose verses were preceded by organ preludes of Bach, Krebs, and Böhm. The Sonatina in d by Christian Ritter showcased the full organ, including the 16’ and 32’ pedal Posaunes. The organ is robustly voiced for a full congregation, and the room has a lively acoustic. Yet even with a sparse population in the church, the full organ was loud but not unpleasantly so. The instrument is essentially north German/Dutch, but can capably handle music of other styles as well. In Dandrieu’s variations on O Filii et Filiae, the organ’s French capabilities were highlighted, including récits de nazard, tierce, basse de trompette, flutes, larigot (siffloete), cromorne (dulcian), cornet, cimbel and Grand Jeu. The reeds offered just enough bite, the flutes were clear and full. The organ most definitely possesses gravitas, as demonstrated in Louis Marchand’s Fond d’orgue (Deuxième Suite), in which the 16’ Praestant enriched the plenum without detracting from its clarity.

Next, organists, including students of Douglas Reed (University of Evansville), Russell Stinson (Lyon College), Dana Robinson (University of Illinois), and graduates of MacMurray College and Illinois College played for the masterclass led by Robert Clark, organ professor emeritus of Arizona State University. All but one played Bach works. Dr. Clark’s suggestions reflected the concerns of making music, as well as matters of technique and registration. In order to accommodate all the students who wished to play, the masterclass continued after the lunch break. Participants in the class and in the subsequent recital were Zach Guenzel, Tim Weisman, Cecilia Bogowith, Alicie Zeilenga, Skye Hart, Jeremy House, Nicole Eyman, Luba Tkachuk, Alison Lewis, Scott Montgomery, Jin-Kyung Lim, and Kirk Rich. See Tsai Chan and Alison Lewis played in the masterclass although not in the recital; Robert Horton and Christine Smith played in the recital only.

Following the masterclass, Christoph Wolff of Harvard University delivered a lecture on the authenticity of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor. Prof. Wolff outlined the claims against Bach’s authorship, which are primarily based on interpretations of sources and on stylistic grounds. His remarks focused on a Berlin Staatsbibliothek manuscript; he considers this source, copied by Johannus Rinck, to be correct in its attribution to Bach. Wolff also discussed details of notation and stylistic traits (such as the arpeggiando figures) which would place the work early in the eighteenth century, and explained the octave doubling at the opening of the toccata as a way around the lack of a 16’ stop on a smaller organ--a way of achieving the effect of a North German plenum.1 Having been reassured that our beloved warhorse was indeed by Bach, we returned to the sanctuary to hear the masterclass participants present their pieces at a recital that capped off the afternoon.

The symposium concluded with a re-creation of Mendelssohn’s “Bach Concert” of August 6, 1840, at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig. The concert began with a full organ introductory work by A. W. Bach, followed by Johann Sebastian’s Fugue in E-flat (BWV 552b), Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele (BWV 654), Prelude and Fugue in A minor (BWV 543), Passacaglia and Thema fugatum (BWV 582), Pastorella in F (BWV 590), Toccata and Fugue in D minor (BWV 565), and closing with Mendelssohn’s Choral and Variation on Herzlich tut mich verlangen, and Allegro (Chorale and fugue) in D minor. Robert Clark, Russell Stinson, Rudolf Zuiderveld, Douglas Reed, and Jay Peterson collaborated with stirring playing; for those who had immersed themselves in details of these works’ histories, stylistic details, and performance practice, the concert was a satisfying ending to the weekend’s events.2

Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, Lake City, Iowa

Opus 91, 2013

Merton College Chapel

Merton College

The University of Oxford, U.K.

by Matthew Power 

“That sweet city with her dreaming spires,” the words from Matthew Arnold’s elegy Thyrsis, are synonymous with Oxford. So too is its renowned university, the most ancient in the English-speaking world, first mentioned in records of the 11th century. The university has 38 self-governing and financially independent colleges plus six permanent private halls of Christian foundation. Founded in 1264 by Walter de Merton, sometime Chancellor of England and later Bishop of Rochester, Merton College was the first of Oxford University’s colleges to be fully self-governing; it contains the oldest quadrangle in the university, and now, the newest pipe organ, built by Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, Ltd. of Lake City, Iowa, and inaugurated in April 2014 as part of a year-long organ festival marking the college’s 750th anniversary. 

Benjamin Nicholas became joint director of music in 2008 alongside Peter Phillips, taking up the full-time position as Reed Rubin Organist and Director of Music in 2012. The dream of commissioning a new organ soon became a reality. Nicholas explains: 

In 2008 the choral scholarships were launched and it became clear that the existing J.W. Walker organ was either in need of a lot of work or replacement. The specification was good for the performance of baroque organ music but not much else, and we needed an organ capable of accompanying all the repertoire that a college choir needs to sing. The other inspiration came from the approaching 750th anniversary of the college. 

Once the decision had been made, a search began. A short-list of four builders emerged, with one firm each from England, Canada, Switzerland, and the United States. They all visited the college and submitted designs for instruments; it was Dobson’s overall concept and understanding of the space in the chapel, which enabled them to win the contract.

Ben Nicholas was joined by the Rev. Dr. Simon Jones, Merton College Chaplain, on a tour of eight Dobson instruments in the States, ranging from a modest church instrument to the large concert organ in the Kimmel Center, Philadelphia. “I loved the sound-world of all those instruments,” recalls Nicholas, “the warmth of their voicing and the way that Lynn Dobson had responded to whatever size room he was building for.” And the result? “The new organ has made a whole new repertoire possible—like the Parry Blest Pair of Sirens, sung at the dedication Evensong for the first time.”

Working overseas did not present a problem for the Dobson team, but the narrow cobbled streets of Oxford, and in particular Merton Street, did pose a challenge. The organ was delivered in a number of metal shipping containers and maneuvering these around corners involved the help of many people including the highways authority and the Oxford police! 

John Panning is tonal director at Dobson’s. I asked him how the organ’s position in the chapel affected the design of the instrument. “With an organ of much greater size than the previous one, there was concern that it shouldn’t have an overbearing presence in the ante chapel.” The organ stands in front of the west wall of the building facing into the quire, the other side of a screen designed in the 17th century by Sir Christopher Wren. 

There was an interest in revealing the ancient west window, some panes of which date from the 15th century. So we wanted to keep the organ as far west as possible, the case as low as we could, and the shape of the organ case was born out of these constraints. The casework could be described as “gothic style,” but of course no gothic organs of that size were built, so we had to invent a new grammar.

The casework has an elegant profile and a complex texture that invites viewing from many different angles. Unusual are the rows of painted wooden pipes set on the sides of the case, and appearing not unlike an English Tudor organ might have been. These are the basses of the Great 16-foot Bourdon, placed there to save space within, and to provide visual stimulation to, people entering the chapel. The casework is entirely the work of president and artistic director Lynn Dobson, from the initial designs to the ornate decoration. “The chapel itself reflects several periods of decoration,” says Panning, “from its gothic origins, to its classical screen and its 19th-century Victorian woodwork, and the organ case contains all these elements.”

Tonally the organ invites exploration of its stops in both their solo capacity, where distinctive characters emerge, and in ensemble where the blend is successful too. A danger that so-called “eclectic” organs risk is the ability to play any repertoire with only moderate success. The Dobson instrument must convince in all solo literature and its daily purpose is to accompany the chapel choir. What was the philosophy behind its tonal design? Panning explains: 

From the beginning an objective was to approach the organ as the servant of the choir. So many instruments of the last half-century were designed to interpret particular bodies of solo literature, and organs designed to accompany the liturgy were mainly overlooked. I find it remarkable that in Oxford there are very few organs that really could play a proper service. It is ironic though that what we [as American organ builders] consider to be our bread-and-butter work [building organs to accompany the liturgy] is hardly to be found even in the City of Oxford!

Of the instruments he has heard in the city, he reckons the organ in Wadham College Chapel, a relatively untouched “Father” Willis, achieves that best. Also, Kenneth Tickell’s recent instrument at Keble is in a similar vein to the Dobson at Merton in being able to adapt to all styles of music convincingly. 

This organ is built on a classical framework—the choruses of each division relate to one another; then it is enriched in a 19th-century fashion with colorful flutes, and reeds that have a more specific tonal direction. While there are some French reeds, there are also some closed shallots in stops where a French sound would overwhelm. The beautiful acoustic of the chapel made the voicer’s work very enjoyable.

When the chapel is not full, with perhaps 60 people present, the organ projects into the quire very much in the manner of an English cathedral instrument in scale and in how it supports the singing. Individual voices reveal a variety of characters, yet coalesce within the chorus with equal success. The Great division’s Harmonic Flute is a case in point; its generous soaring solo voice returns among the other foundation stops without obtruding. 

This tonal style seems to be what attracted Ben Nicholas and Simon Jones as they explored a variety of Dobson organs in the United States. What does Panning think they found? 

I think for them the aggregate was that these instruments were agreeable to play, with a tonal congeniality and you could imagine them accompanying choirs—that was the prime goal. The common thread found in all these instruments was of a “servant” rather than a “solo” organ.

Besides the new organ, an ambitious collection of new choral music has been commissioned and collected to form the Merton Choirbook. The idea was that of Michael Emery, a former organ scholar at Merton and senior producer of the BBC Singers, in conversation with Peter Phillips (known internationally as director of The Tallis Scholars, and appointed joint director of music alongside Ben Nicholas in 2008); Phillips retains his part-time post, conducting four services per term. Emery’s idea was to form a collection of new music to celebrate the 750th anniversary along the lines of the Eton Choirbook, including music by the finest composers of the day, mainly from Britain. For reasons of practicality the 50 pieces are all published individually by the composers’ respective publishers, and a single bound volume of the collection will be kept in Merton College Library. Premieres of all the works, mainly at Merton but elsewhere too, continue into 2015. 

The organ dedication concert was given on April 26 by John Scott (formerly director of music at St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, and now in his tenth year at St. Thomas Church Fifth Avenue, New York). Scott used a cleverly devised program to explore the facets of the Dobson organ as a solo instrument. A capacity audience packed every inch of the quire and spilled into the ante chapel. 

The program began with Modus Pleno Organo, a majestic treatment of the “Benedicamus Domino” plainchant and with unusual use of double pedal, implying gravitas from the outset. Sweelinck’s Fantasia Chromatica opened with the tone of what could have been a restrained English principal, with clear articulation and warm speech. This steadily lengthy fantasia was made continually interesting through Scott’s phrasing and pacing. Buxtehude’s D-minor Passacaglia was made to sound later in style with larger-scale fluework, the entrance of an 8-foot Pedal reed in the central section, and finishing with 8-foot and 4-foot flutes of fine clarity.

After tricky minimalistic palate-cleansing provided by Ad Wammes’s Toccata Chromatica (Echoes of Sweelinck), Scott delivered a flawless and compelling reading of J. S. Bach’s G-minor Fantasia and Fugue, revealing well-balanced independent parts. Scholars now think that the two movements only became the pair we know today much later (as with many of Bach’s preludes and fugues); reflecting this, Scott imaginatively interpolated the expressive Orgelbüchlein chorale prelude “Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein.” 

The program changed tack with Franck’s third Choral, depicting a thick and powerful wall of sound from 8-foot reeds and fonds, and the very effective swell shutters came into their own. Peter Racine Fricker’s Pastorale exhibited the smaller reeds and tremulant, and its undulating textures benefited from Scott’s attention to detail and fine judgment in the long, perfectly balanced diminuendo at the end. A demanding syncopated Toccata by Simon Preston—who delighted the audience by emerging and taking a bow—contained scurrying pedal writing, which demonstrated quick speech. The program ended with a masterful rendition of Dupré’s Variations sur un Noël. Again, a perfectly good French timbre ensued, the large and characterful Harmonic Flute climbing high, and a final flourish was brought about by the celebratory Zimbelstern. 

The following day, a recital of baroque organ music, played by Benjamin Nicholas and organ scholars Anna Steppler (who graduated in 2013), Charles Warren, and Peter Shepherd, had a decent but by no means large audience. This gave the organ a chance to speak into the room as it will each day in term time accompanying Choral Evensong, its principal raison d’être. The tonal egress was certainly more substantial, the acoustical effect now of a cathedral rather than a chapel. The ubiquitous Toccata and Fugue in D Minor BWV 565 (attributed to J.S. Bach) was given a vibrant interpretation by Nicholas, especially in its imitative echo passages, and his rapid tempo still left room for some rhetorical surprises. Of particular note was the superb fluency and delivery of Anna Steppler’s Voluntary for a Double Organ (Purcell) and her musical phrasing in the Buxtehude Te Deum, which caused the work to sing. 

That Sunday evening, the Bishop of Oxford dedicated the instrument at Choral Evensong; the chapel was filled, with some members of the Dobson Pipe Organ Builders and their families in attendance. Canon Peter Moger, Precentor of York Minster, was the preacher, and the choir sang the Canticles in G (Howells), Blest Pair of Sirens (Parry), and the voluntary was Flourish for an Occasion (Harris). 

I ask John Panning what he and the Dobson team will take away from their encounter with Oxford. 

The opportunity to work in a space like Merton College Chapel is probably a once in a lifetime experience. It was an ideal situation; the college was extremely supportive, Paul Hale was an excellent organ advisor, understanding the technicalities and providing a bridge to the musicians at the college; he asked the right questions, not necessarily prescribing the answers. Ben Nicholas was very supportive and helped with suggestions during our work. The whole experience of building an organ at Oxford, and in a chapel with such beautiful acoustics—something that is rare for us to find in the States—was unforgettable. The inaugural weekend of concerts and services, especially John Scott’s recital and hearing the organ accompany the services, made for a very satisfying and emotional weekend.

Matthew Power gained an honors degree in music at London University and won the improvisation and composition competitions at Trinity College of Music, graduating with the Recital Diploma. He was Editor of Choir & Organ magazine for nine years, and works in London as a musician and writer.

Photo credits: Colin Dunn

Anyone familiar with the biographies of distinguished composers and performers throughout music history can never fail to be amazed at the impressive stories of children exhibiting exceptional talent. Musical ability often manifests itself early in life, and many of these early bloomers go on to significant and sustained achievements in later years. The accounts of their creative childhoods are a source of interest not only to music lovers generally, but also to psychologists who have studied the progress of such individuals in an attempt to understand and explain these extraordinary phenomena. The following survey will chronicle the highlights of the emergence and development of musical talent in a selected group of musical prodigies from the 16th to the 19th centuries whose abilities were later realized in the fields of organ music composition and performance.1 Some concluding generalizations, derived from the writings of psychologists who have studied this fascinating topic, will end the presentation.

Girolamo Frescobaldi (1583-1643), the son of a musician in Ferrara, Italy, became one of the greatest organists and keyboard composers of his time. As a boy he possessed a remarkable voice and went from town to town singing, followed by crowds of admirers. Although little is known of his early life, he studied organ with a court organist and occupied his first position as organist at the age of 14. At the age of 25 he went to St. Peters in Rome where he also spent his final years. This prolific composer was later described as "father of the organ style" that prevailed in England and other countries for over a century. His compositions were central to keyboard study as well. Froberger studied with him for several years and J. S. Bach copied out his Fiori musicale (1635), a publication of liturgical organ music.

William Crotch (1775-1847), born in Norwich, England, was a remarkable child prodigy who was able to play at the age of 2 the tune to "God Save Great George Our King" on an organ made by his father, a carpenter. He gave his first concert at the age of 3, played before the royal family at 4, and was exhibited by his mother on tours of England and Scotland until the age of 9. At the age of 10 he played his own harpsichord concerto in London and began composing an oratorio. At the age of 11 he went to Cambridge University where he assisted the professor of music and was organist at two colleges. He transferred to Oxford University at the age of 13 and was appointed organist at Christ Church within two years. He took his D.Mus. at Oxford at the age of 24. Some of his Oxford lectures were published in 1831. While at Oxford he composed the "Westminster Chimes" for a church clock in Cambridge; this tune was used in the Houses of Parliament following 1860. His later years were mainly academic, including various professorships in music as well as a ten-year term as Principal of the Royal College of Music from its founding in 1822. His compositions include organ works, piano pieces, songs, and choral works. He was also a watercolorist of considerable ability.

George Washburne Morgan (1823-1892), whose name is largely unknown today, was believed to be the first famous organist heard in the United States in the late 19th century. Born in Gloucester, England, he exhibited remarkable musical gifts at a very early age, playing his first church service when only 8 years old, later becoming assistant organist at Gloucester Cathedral. Following his arrival in the United States in 1853 his remarkable playing generated much enthusiasm, particularly due to his phenomenal pedal technique. He served as organist in various New York churches and gave many concerts both in New York and throughout the country. His performances of "concert music"--an unknown factor in organ music prior to his arrival--placed him at the head of his profession.

William T. Best (1826-1897) became one of the world's most prominent organ recitalists of the 19th century. The son of a solicitor in Carlisle, England, he studied organ in his home town where he was assistant organist at the local cathedral, followed by a post at Pembroke Chapel at the age of 14. While still in his twenties he occupied a number of prestigious positions in London, moving to Liverpool at the age of 29 to preside at the organ in St. George's Hall. Following several appointments elsewhere he returned to Liverpool where he remained until his resignation in 1895. He performed extensively beyond England, including the inaugural recital on the new Town Hall organ in Sydney, Australia, in 1890 (both the Hall and the Hill & Son's organ were the largest in the world at the time). Best's orchestral use of the organ included many of his own transcriptions along with other original organ works and he edited editions of the works of Bach, Handel, and Mendelssohn. During his own time he was described as the "Prince of Organists."

Alexandre Guilmant (1837-1887) was born into a family of French organists and organbuilders in Boulogne. Although largely self-taught, his first lessons were from his father, substituting for him at the organ of St. Joseph's in Boulogne at the age of 12. There he exhausted several organ blowers during his daily practice sessions, sometimes as long as ten hours. He succeeded his father as organist at the age of 22. Following study with Lemmens in Brussels he began giving recitals in Paris at the age of 25. His later career included European and North American tours, inaugural recitals at many large organ installations, and appointments at the major cathedrals of Paris: St. Sulpice, Notre Dame, and La Trinité. He was one of the founders of the Schola Cantorum and succeeded Widor as professor at the Paris Conservatory where several of his pupils (Bonnet, Boulanger, Jacob, Dupré) achieved fame in their own right. Perhaps the most prolific composer of organ music since Bach, he also published collections of pieces and edited much older organ music. In 1893 the President of the French Republic nominated him a Chevalier de la Légion d'Honneur in recognition of his achievements.

Joseph Rheinberger (1839-1901), born in Vaduz, Lichtenstein, began music lessons at the age of 4. At the age of 7 he played the organ at a local church where a special set of extended pedals were installed to accommodate his short legs. Soon afterwards he composed a three-part mass with organ accompaniment. At the age of 12 he was sent to the Munich Conservatory where he studied until he was 19. Later, at the same institution, he became a noted teacher of organ and composition, becoming one of the most sought-after composition teachers of his time. He was appointed director of the Conservatory at the age of 28 and was also director of church music to the court. During his lifetime he composed in many different genres--operas, masses, symphonies, chamber music--but is most remembered for his organ music, especially two concertos and twenty sonatas.

Auguste Wiegand (1849-1904), born in Liège, Belgium, developed his musical abilities so rapidly that he was appointed organist at a local church by the early age of 7. He entered the Liège Conservatory at the age of 10, winning several prizes and medals for his accomplishments before the age of 20. As professor at that institution he also served as organist in several other cities, travelled to England many times to inaugurate organs there, and performed throughout Europe. He later studied organ at the Royal Conservatory in Brussels. His major success was that of the first city organist at the Town Hall, Sydney, Australia, 1891-1900, where he played over 1,000 recitals during that period. His broad-based recital programs on the huge Hill & Son organ included many arrangements and transcriptions; his concerts were received with great enthusiasm by large and appreciative audiences. Following his departure from Sydney he again toured Europe and spent his final years as organist of Oswego, New York. His compositions include a "Storm Idyll," a popular form of organ entertainment at the time.

Clarence Eddy (1851-1937), born in Greenfield, Massachusetts, showed marked musical ability at the age of 5. He held his first church position at the age of 14, then went to Hartford, Connecticut, to study with Dudley Buck at the age of 16. At the age of 20 he studied in Germany with Professor Augustus Haupt, the most prominent teacher in that country, who gave him a written recommendation as "undoubtedly a peer of the greatest living organists." Following a successful European recital tour he settled in Chicago and developed a reputation as a leading American organist. He played more dedicatory recitals than any other organist of his day. While director of the Hershey School of Musical Art he gave a remarkable series of one hundred weekly recitals without repeating a number; he was 25 years old at the time. His many concert tours included playing at various expositions in the United States and abroad. He published two multi-volume organ methods to supplement his teaching activities, in addition to a number of original works. As a founder of the American Guild of Organists, Eddy became affectionately known as the "Dean of American Organists."

Edwin H. Lemare (1865-1934) was born on the Isle of Wight where his father, the organist of a local church, was his first teacher. He won a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music in London at the age of 13 and was awarded an Associateship at the end of his studies there. Following graduation he occupied church positions in Sheffield and London. After the death of W. T. Best in 1897 Lemare was acclaimed Best's successor as the greatest living English organist. Following his American tour in 1900 he served as a very highly paid municipal organist in several cities in the United States over a period of thirty years. He had considerable influence on organ playing in America on account of his legendary registration of orchestral compositions and transcriptions of Romantic composers, especially Wagner. His own 126 original compositions ranged from the simple and sentimental to complex concert pieces; the best known of the former type is his "Andantino in D-flat," later arranged as the popular song, "Moonlight and Roses." He had a remarkable musical memory and was a gifted improviser.

Alfred Hollins (1865-1942), born in Hull, Scotland, became blind when still in infancy. Nevertheless, he exhibited exceptional musical abilities, including absolute pitch, from an early age. At the age of 2 he could play tunes on the piano and identify notes or chords played by others; by the age of 6 he could improvise. Following lessons from a family member and at an institute in York, at age 13 he entered the Royal Normal College for the Blind where he developed into a brilliant pianist. He played for Queen Victoria when he was 16 and gave his first public organ recital shortly afterwards. Later he studied piano with Hans von Bülow in Berlin and toured Germany with a repertoire of piano concertos; on one occasion he played three piano concertos in a single concert. He learned his music by listening to his wife play each part through, which he then rapidly committed to memory. His longest church appointment was at St. George's in Edinburgh, which he held for forty-five years. As an active organ recitalist he toured widely throughout the world. In addition to composing fifty-five organ works Hollins also published church music, songs, and piano music. His book, A Blind Organist Looks Back (1936), contains many insights into the life of a touring concert organist in the early 19th century.

Marcel Dupré (1886-1971), was born in Rouen, France, into an intensely musical family; his father and both grandfathers were organists and his mother was a cellist and pianist. Family connections included friendships with the organbuilder Aristide Cavaillé-Coll and organists Charles-Marie Widor and Alexandre Guilmant. He studied with both Widor and Guilmant at the Paris Conservatory where he received many prizes. At the age of 11 he was appointed organist at a church in his home town. At the age of 20 he became Widor's assistant at St. Sulpice in Paris. At the age of 28 he won the Premier Grand Prix de Rome, the greatest distinction a French musician could attain. In 1920, at the age of 34, Dupré startled the musical world by playing from memory the entire organ works of J. S. Bach in a series of ten concerts. This celebrated performer and improviser performed in various countries over the years. He published a quantity of solo and ensemble music for organ along with works for other instruments. He also wrote several books on organ playing and published editions of Bach, Franck, and others.

  *     *     *

Psychologists who have studied the phenomenon of exceptional musical talent2 have noted a number of distinguishing factors that are exemplified in many of the preceding biographies. The musical abilities referred to may include a variety and range of acoustic and musical capacities: perfect pitch, identifying intervals and chords, reading at sight, playing from memory, playing from a full score, transposing, improvising, and composing (although not to the level of form and harmonization of more mature artists).

Musical prodigies are distinguished by the following childhood characteristics:

* The most obvious feature is that musical ability emerges early in life, usually in the first decade; this, of course, is the definition of a child prodigy. Interpretative talent, including instrumental technique and playing in public, appears first, often before the age of 8, followed by compositional talent somewhat later, except in very rare cases, earlier. As much as ten years of composition experience may be needed for the production of excellent musical works. Musical capacity continues to expand during the third decade of life.

* Heredity above average: parents often make significant contributions to the extraordinary success of their children. The importance of an early home and educational environment, including inspiring social contacts, is prominent in such cases. In fact, ability may be less important than interest, devotion, encouragement, and appropriate educational opportunities. Heredity sets limits, but within these limits and with adequate training, gifted individuals may rise to the stature of outstanding members of the musical profession.

* Unusually high intelligence.3

* Persistence of motive and effort, confidence in their abilities, and great strength or force of character.

* The manifestation of exceptional abilities in infancy is more consistently found among musicians than in other fields. The reason for this lies in the nature of music itself. Music, due to its abstract, formal nature, creates its own material independent of words. It is not fed from the outer world and interaction with others or from external experience and practice. Rather, the subject matter of music is from within, an embodiment of uniquely musical feelings and emotions that are quite independent of other mental qualities.

*     *     *

There are no grounds for judging whether organists, as a group, exhibited more or less musical ability in their early years than other musicians in the period just surveyed; comparative evidence is lacking. However, mature organists were probably more prominent in the public eye due to the central place the organ played in musical culture at the time. As for prominent organists of recent years, their early musical talents and abilities are not generally publicized. However, musical talent is not just a thing of the past. It is a common characteristic of today's children that must be fostered by constant encouragement, proper atmosphere, and by a combination of expert tuition and appropriate education facilities if they are to become important artists in the future. n

Notes

                  1.              Some explanation should be made for the omission of several major musical figures from the following list. The lifelong career of Johann Sebastian Bach is so well known that it does not need repeating here. The significant fact is that the Bach family was perhaps the most remarkable and important of all time, and the young Bach received a thorough grounding in music from his father and brothers. Although Bach's family life was permeated with music, specific biographical information is lacking on his very early abilities or achievements that would classify him as a "prodigy" as the term is applied to other figures throughout this article.

Biographies of George Frideric Handel reveal that although as a child he had a strong propensity to music, his doctor father opposed his son's inclinations, considering music a lowly occupation, and intended him for the study of law. However, when Handel was 7 an aristocrat heard him play and persuaded the father to allow his son to follow a musical career, which began with lessons in composition from the age of 9 years.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was an outstanding example of a musical prodigy, according to tests in sight reading and extemporization administered to him at the age of 8 by Daines Barrington, a scientifically inclined man who reported his findings to the Royal Society in 1779. Mozart's musical memory was most remarkable; at the age of 14, upon hearing in the Sistine Chapel one performance (perhaps more) of a complex choral work, Allegri's Miserere, he wrote it down from memory with only a few errors (Mendelssohn accomplished a similar feat). Although Mozart became an accomplished organist, apart from a few short pieces and seventeen "Church Sonatas" his "organ" works are three pieces written for mechanical clock.

                  2.              Important studies include:

Carl Emil Seashore, The Psychology of Musical Talent (New York: Silver, Burdett, 1919). His discussion of the musical mind covers various dimensions: pitch, intensity, time, rhythm, timbre, consonance, auditory space, voluntary motor control, musical action, musical imagery and imagination, musical memory, musical intellect, and musical feeling. Even so, he asserted that these do not operate in isolation; the musical mind is a unity that works as an integrated whole.

G. Révész, The Psychology of a Musical Prodigy (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1925). This work, the first of its kind, attempts to portray the early development of a richly endowed pianist, Erwin Nyiregyházi (1903-1987). It covers such topics as the early appearance of musical talent in general, diagnostic tests, elementary acoustic and musical faculties, specific forms of musical ability, compositions, and the progress of the pianist's development as shown in his works. Although some aspects of Erwin's childhood progress resembled Mozart's, his musical career failed to proceed and eventually he worked for film studios in Los Angeles.

Lewis M. Terman, ed., Genetic Studies of Genius (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1926), 5 vols. The volumes in the series deal with the mental and physical traits of gifted children (vol. 1), the early mental traits of three hundred geniuses (vol. 2), follow-up studies of a thousand gifted children (vol. 3), twenty-five years' follow-up of a superior group (vol. 4), and thirty-five years' follow-up of the gifted group at midlife: thirty-five years' follow-up of the superior child (vol. 5). The fields surveyed are extensive; musical ability receives only minor consideration. Perhaps the most relevant volume to this present discussion is Catherine Morris Cox, The Early Mental Traits of Three Hundred Geniuses, which mentions musical prodigies and musicians as a group. In the preface Terman observes: "We are justified in believing that geniuses, so called, are not only characterized in childhood by a superior IQ, but also by traits of interest, energy, will, and character that foreshadow later performance" (ix).

Articles include:

R. A. Henson, "Neurological Aspects of Musical Experience," in Music and the Brain: Studies in the Neurology of Music, ed. Macdonald Critchley and R. A. Henson (Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas, 1977), 3-21.

Tedd Judd, "The Varieties of Musical Talent," in The Exceptional Brain, ed. Loraine K. Obler and Deborah Fein (New York: The Guilford Press, 1988), 127-155. The technical discussion covers the psychology and neuropsychology of musical abilities, relation to other skills, musical memory, and relationships among musical skills.

Donald Scott and Adrienne Moffett, "The Development of Early Musical Talent in Famous Composers: a Biographical Review," in Music and the Brain: Studies in the Neurology of Music, ed. Macdonald Critchley and R. A. Henson (Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas, 1977), 174-201. The focus is on Mozart, Beethoven, Handel, and Bach, along with several other prodigies studied by Daines Barrington, reported in 1781: Charles and Samuel Wesley, William Crotch, and Lord Mornington.

The following summary draws upon some of these sources.

                  3.              For example, Catherine Morris Cox, The Early Mental Traits of Three Hundred Geniuses, vol. 3 of Genetic Studies of Genius, estimated the childhood/young manhood IQs of several eminent composers: Bach, 140/165; Handel, 160/170 Mozart, 160/165, and others.

James B. Hartman specialized in philosophy, psychology, and the aesthetics of music in his doctoral studies at Northwestern University. He is Associate Professor, Continuing Education Division, The University of Manitoba, Winnipeg, Canada, where he is Senior Academic Editor for publications of the Distance Education Program. He is a frequent contributor of book reviews to The Diapason.

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

Paul Jacobs is no stranger to anyone who knows the organ world, and of late he is gaining exposure to a broader audience through the mass media. The subject of numerous newspaper, professional journal, and public radio interviews (The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, Choir and Organ, National Public Radio’s Morning Edition, to name just a few), Jacobs is a musician of passionate and devoted intensity. One of the first mentions of him in these pages was as the college division prize winner of the Albert Schweitzer Organ Competition (see The Diapason, November 1998); his Messiaen Marathon performance in Chicago was chronicled by Frank Ferko in The Diapason in May 2002, and his numerous achievements and honors have often been reported here. Jacobs’ current high media profile is due in part to his position as head of the organ department at Juilliard—at age 26 he became the school’s youngest department chair ever. He has also garnered attention for his Bach and Messiaen marathons, though these certainly are serious and concentrated encounters with the music of these composers and not to be considered stunts.
A native of Washington, Pennsylvania, Paul Jacobs studied organ with George Rau, John Weaver, and Thomas Murray. His teachers attest to his intelligence, great capacity for learning, and hardy work ethic; these were noticeable even as he began his organ studies. George Rau, Jacobs’ first organ teacher, remembers that even at his first lesson, his talent was obvious; he learned very quickly, and worked very hard.
I knew that his was an extraordinary talent, and also not only that, he works harder than any musician that I know; and having the two—not only this great talent, but also this great work ethic—really, you just knew that he was going to go far.1
By age 15—when he took his first church position—he had learned much of the standard repertoire and was working on larger Bach works. Jacobs studied with John Weaver at the Curtis Institute of Music; Weaver’s first impression noted the “security of his playing and the musicianship.” Weaver also commented that

Certainly one of his strengths was a great seriousness, which is still a hallmark of his playing, and of his personality. He really is deeply devoted to excellence in performance. What did he need to work on? Well, he was not at the top of his form in the social graces. Not that he was inappropriate, but I think he was a little nervous about conversing with people; and interacting with people was a skill that he had not developed terribly well at that point, but that he now has more than compensated for.2
At Rau’s suggestion, Jacobs began mastering early on the skill of memorization.

I would always tell him that it’s a skill that if developed now, you’ll have it for the rest of your life, and it’s a skill that you want to develop young, so that it becomes a natural part of your playing.3

Rau’s nudging to memorize was taken to heart; John Weaver elaborates:

The tradition at the Curtis Institute that goes back to the days of Lynwood Farnam and was maintained for many years by Alexander McCurdy, and I inherited and maintained, [was] that each student shall play a new piece from memory in organ class each week. And nothing like this exists any place else in the world, as far as I know. Paul wasn’t fazed by this at all. But after he’d been at Curtis, oh, perhaps six weeks or so into his first year, he came to me and said, “well, would it be all right”—he was very timid about this—“do you think it would matter, would people be upset, would it be all right if I were to play TWO pieces each week?” (laughter) And so I thought that would be just fine, and told him so, and so he did. From that time on, for the rest of his four years at Curtis, he played at least one new piece each week, plus another piece and sometimes repeating a piece from another time. Well the interesting thing is, it wasn’t very many weeks after that, one of his fellow students who’d become equally notorious in the organ world, Ken Cowan, wasn’t about to be upstaged. He started memorizing two pieces each week too! (laughter) It was quite a class—to have Paul Jacobs and Ken Cowan both studying at the same time.4

Following Curtis, Jacobs went on to study at Yale. His teacher at Yale, Thomas Murray, found Jacobs to be “a genuinely modest and seriously committed artist.” 5

Perhaps the greatest strength a musician can have is to be truly individual, and that surely describes Paul and the way he approaches everything. He identifies the music of specific composers as being the most enduring and ennobling, and then devotes himself to that music without reservation. In Paul’s case, that has meant Bach and Messiaen especially. By the time he left Yale with his Artist Diploma and Master of Music degree in 2003, he was adding Brahms and Reger to his agenda. With this as his core repertoire, he is fastidious about what he adds for “lighter music.” He knows how to popularize the organ in other ways. In fact, he was a very effective “pied piper” while at Yale, intentionally drawing large numbers of undergraduates and non-concert-going people to his programs. Much of that he does with a personal, one-to-one, friendly rapport. When he played his E. Power Biggs Memorial Recital at Harvard, for example, he calmly greeted members of the audience as they arrived! So in large measure, his approach has not been on the well-trod path of competitions or with showy music.6

Phillip Truckenbrod, whose agency manages Jacobs’ engagements, first heard of Paul Jacobs via his playing at an AGO convention and subsequently when Jacobs won the college division award of the Albert Schweitzer competition. Truckenbrod has mentioned how Jacobs has been noticed by the broader musical community, remarking that

A lot of the kudos which have come his way are not from organ sources, they’re from critics who don’t usually do much with organ, and people who have simply recognized a real talent—a talent comparable to some of the best talents in other fields of classical music. Resonating is one of the favorite words today—but he’s sort of resonating on that level.7

We wished to discover for ourselves a bit of what makes this fervent musician tick, and also to explore some of his views on the role of the organ and its music in the face of the popular culture juggernaut that challenges us all.

JR: In your very full life you have teaching at Juilliard, and recitals to play, which involve a good deal of travel. How do you balance these many demands?
PJ: I look to the life of George Frederick Handel for inspiration. Handel was not a man of leisure—he was very much married to his art. There are not enough hours in the day, and I feel obligated to my work, which is so fulfilling. Actually this ties in with my not owning a television, too. Who has the time? While I’m home visiting my mother and family in Pennsylvania, of course I do occasionally watch television. And you know, the more stations there are, the less that’s worthwhile. I actually have encouraged people to get rid of their television and get out there and live. Live deliberately!

JR: I’ve read that you first heard organ music when you were young, at church—a nun was playing and it inspired you. Prior to that, were you already listening to serious music? What sort of family culture do you come from?
PJ: Surprisingly, I do not come from a musical family, nor from a musical community, for that matter. As you know, I’m from Washington, Pennsylvania. My father is deceased; my mother is a nurse, and, while not musical herself, she did all that she could to support my fascination with music. She recognized early on that I possessed a very strong attraction to music. Even when I was three, she noticed that I would listen to classical music, or if there was a conductor on television, an orchestra concert, I was entranced. And I expressed interest at age five to study the piano. All of that led way to more serious study of music.

JR: And you began piano study when you were about six?
PJ: Yes, at six, and continued that through my first year at Curtis. Thirteen was when I began playing the organ. And I was fortunate in a relatively small town to have both a first-rate piano teacher and an organ teacher who nurtured my zeal for music and my musical education.

JR: Is that how your practice habits got a good start?
PJ: Yes, I would say so. For a young person to have strong feelings for classical music in the United States is generally not held in high regard by the young person’s peers.

JR: Indeed! I take it that you were not on three or four sports teams?
PJ: Not only that—I’m as unathletic as one could be. But you know, I didn’t really have any friends, growing up. I had difficulty, even through most of my time at Curtis, because I was an intense introvert. I’ve lightened my personality a bit over the last several years. And I don’t regret any of this, by the way—but I had no time for taking part in the banalities of life; and partying, or drinking, or just idle talk—it was of no interest to me. I would much prefer to be playing and studying beautiful music. Friday nights, even through Curtis, were spent practicing, late into the night, not out with friends. One has to become the music. You have to want it to become part of you, you have to go through an incredibly intense, rigorous lifestyle to get to this point, to earn the right to confidently express yourself.

JR: That’s a very interesting idea—that as an introvert you would bypass social opportunities, so that you could dig in deeper and express yourself publicly through music.
PJ: Oh, I think that’s absolutely the case. I think keyboardists tend to lead the most insular existences—pianists, organists, because our instruments are so complete. But the nature of being a serious musician demands a lifestyle that is centered around not only musical analysis but also self-analysis, and self-reflection—all of these things are intertwined. If one is to have a love affair, shall we say, with music, one must become as intimate with it as possible, and that demands many hours of the day—hours that could be spent doing other things with other people. I suppose it’s an abstract point, but it’s a very important point—musicians need that solitude. My solitude has always been very important to me, because it has allowed me to become very close with the art. It’s not necessarily loneliness—it can be, at times, but solitude doesn’t necessarily equal loneliness.

JR: Yes—alone is not equal to lonely. But I think of you as quite gracious. At the 2004 AGO convention you were at the door greeting people as they entered the church for your recital. That seemed very open and confident, not what I would associate with someone who was an introvert.
PJ: Yes, I feel genuinely obliged to thank people and to be gracious to them because they’re giving of themselves. Good musicians want to become vulnerable to an audience. You get out there and pour your heart and soul out, and you hope an audience will do the same: that they will allow the barriers to come down—emotional barriers, spiritual barriers, intellectual barriers, and just be there in the moment. It has to be this mutual vulnerability; everyone must be very giving and human and sensitive to what’s going on. So it’s important that the performer be approachable and not aloof. Again, I don’t think I’m contradicting myself. One can still have the solitude and not be aloof—you can still relate to people.

JR: Yes! Do you routinely greet people before a performance?
PJ: It varies, depending on how I feel. I like to, but not always. Quite frankly, oftentimes I like to take a walk—depending on where the venue is. One time, last season, the church was located in a wonderful neighborhood—it was very scenic. And I wanted to take a walk about an hour before. And—I got lost! I didn’t get back into the church until about two minutes before the concert. People were concerned!

JR: During your training years, what would be a typical amount of practice in a given day? I know you emphasize not merely the quantity but also the quality of it, but quantity needs to be there too.
PJ: Sure, absolutely, it does, and that’s an important point—you do have to have the quantity as well. I would like to get in between six to eight hours a day if I could.

JR: And I would imagine now that’s not as possible as it used to be?
PJ: It sometimes is not, that’s right, especially during the school year. However, this relates to organists, because we as organists often have to wear many hats—I should say those of us who are church musicians. One sometimes has to work with choirs, prepare music, and be an administrator, all of these sorts of things—and practice is neglected. And practice needs to be a crucial part. I might even say that practice needs to be THE crucial part of an artist’s life—a significant priority—every day, just as eating, sleeping, breathing.

JR: Prior to Curtis, were you musically active in your church or at that point were you focused on being an organist? Were you in your church choir?
PJ: Well, I actually became the organist of my home church when I was 15, and that was a very large church. The position was quite demanding; I had to play for six Masses a weekend, over 60 weddings a year—this was a parish of over 3500 families. And I had to accompany the choir; I was not the choir director, but I was there for all choir rehearsals, interacting with people much older than I was. But I loved it! I was in my element.

JR: Did you also have a church job in New York?
PJ: I did. And I still do. I was organist and choirmaster at Christ and St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church for two years; however, I became artist in residence beginning in the fall, mainly because I’m seldom there due to my performance schedule. I’m very fond of the people there, though, and I very much enjoy playing for services; it just is something I’m unable to do regularly. Being artist in residence and playing a few times a year seems to work well.

JR: You have done Bach and Messiaen marathons. What made you want to play their entire works for organ?
PJ: I see Bach and Messiaen as perhaps two incomparable composers for the organ. They also happen to be perhaps two of the most overtly religious composers in Western history, if you think about it. That has always been an enormous source of stimulation, and that element alone has attracted me to their music. Then on a purely compositional level they are two of the greatest composers to have lived—every note of Bach and Messiaen is in its proper place. They never waste a note; it’s music that is perfectly crafted. It is music that is as close to God as we could possibly experience in this life, and I wanted to become intimate with as much of it as I could—and that meant the entire canons of these composers.

JR: You have said that you like to just enjoy nature. That makes me think of Messiaen—what an amazing mind there, so far-reaching: Greek music, Indian modes, birdsong, other sounds in nature, that play into his concept of music. Do you incorporate any of this into your approach to Messiaen’s music?

PJ: Very much! Messiaen had the soul of a poet, there’s no question about that. And we as musicians need to have this insatiable desire, to be drawn to beauty. It’s not enough to sit down and play the organ well—and then go about life. Playing music should be an end in itself, not a means to an end. When I sit at the organ and play the Book of the Blessed Sacrament of Messiaen, the Livre du Saint Sacrement, it’s the end of the world, in the most glorious sense. One forgets about time, one forgets about all of these things—and there’s a purity of nature, a reality. As much as I adore the culture of the city, it’s artificial, on one level, because it’s all man-made. But nature is made directly by God.
You know, I did recently take one day off to go to Valley Forge Park, which I adore, and just walk and hike up the mountains and through the fields and into the woods. And it was balmy and humid and hot and quite cloudy as well. About halfway along my walk, the heavens opened up, and it started to pour. I didn’t have an umbrella, and I got soaked; but it wasn’t long before I realized that this is something to relish! It wasn’t a thunderstorm, I wasn’t in any danger of being struck by lightning; but just being showered upon, it was actually very wonderful; it was a beautiful experience. I always have a deep yearning to spend time in nature; that never ends.
Recently I was in Australia. I encountered some glorious birds and birdsong—in particular, on one SPECTACULAR occasion, I confronted a lyre-bird. My first introduction to the lyre-bird was through Messiaen’s symphonic work, Illuminations of the Beyond, the Éclairs sur l’au-delà. It’s the third movement that’s called “The Superb Lyre-Bird.” I was taking a walk with two of my hosts in a wooded area outside of Sydney; to encounter this lyre-bird, that inspired Messiaen, was an immensely moving experience.

JR: What are you working on now in terms of adding to your repertoire? What would you like to focus on in the future?
PJ: Even though I haven’t programmed much German Romantic repertoire—Brahms, Mendelssohn, Schumann—in the last few months, it’s music of the highest quality. I have become quite attracted to Reger’s music. I think that it is sorely underestimated, because it is difficult, not only for the player, but sometimes for the audience, and even music historians. It’s difficult to comprehend technically and musically, and it’s often played in a heavy-handed way that can make it unattractive, and this need not be the case.
I have broad interests in music—I play contemporary art music. I do have an interest in 20th-century music, not just with Messiaen, but also Hindemith, Langlais, Duruflé, Alain, and others. It is also important to support the creative spirit of contemporary times and I intend to commission works from several modern composers. I also delight in music earlier than Bach—Buxtehude, Couperin, De Grigny—exquisite music! I rejoice in playing the whole canon of the organ repertory. I would never want to be labeled a specialist; my interests are too extensive for that. I savor the ability to play a vast array of music.

JR: Do you read about the composers whose music you play? What do you do besides study scores?
PJ: Absolutely. Attempting to understand the personality behind the music is fascinating and illuminating. You want to understand everything you can about what you’re pursuing, not just sit down and crank out notes.

JR: Yes, and if you can understand the person and their time, it really helps shed light on the music, or the music shed light on the time.
PJ: That’s right! And not necessarily in a stylistic sense, although it can sometimes. I’m revisiting some older repertoire now, and I think I’m going to program some Franck this season or next. One of the first pieces I learned was the Prelude, Fugue and Variation—it’s a gorgeous work. And I might do some different things; I’m conceiving of the piece in a different way, perhaps with some different articulations, colors and sounds. If one were playing a Cavaillé-Coll, one could follow exactly what Franck indicated, and it’s wonderful. But there’s nothing wrong, too, with developing a different, even unorthodox concept of a piece, as long as the playing is expressive and compelling. That’s really the ultimate goal—it’s not about right and wrong, or what one should or shouldn’t do. Rule No. 1 is to MOVE the listener, and if the subsequent rules need to be broken to serve this first rule, so be it.

JR: How do you prepare a piece? Do you have any specific practice techniques? Transferring your knowledge of how to play on one instrument to another, in a very short span of time—is there anything specific you do?
PJ: Well, one needs to sleep with the score. That is to say, you need to study it away from the keyboard. Know it inside and out—live with the music. Understand what the music means on spiritual levels, philosophical levels, aesthetic levels—one needs to be able to look at music in so many ways. I do a lot of work at the piano, particularly much of the preliminary work—phrasing, or learning notes, things such as that. And sometimes one can discover new ideas about how to interpret a piece on a different instrument, then transfer those concepts to the other instrument. And one isn’t distracted, too, by all of the gadgets on the organ. When sitting at a piano or harpsichord, any instrument is sparse compared to the pipe organ. I think it is easier to focus with the piano or the harpsichord than it is with the organ, because there’s so much to consider: not only notes, but also registration, and all the other technical and mechanical aspects.

JR: But at some point, the organ’s gadgets will require your attention. How do you memorize registrational changes on an unfamiliar instrument, when you have very little time? How do you remember that on this instrument “I need to hit the Great to Pedal toe stud” and on the next instrument there is none? How do you remember all the mechanics, since you don’t use a registrant?
PJ: Well, that’s a bit of an enigma to me. Obviously, I become familiar with the instrument before the concert—then I associate the sound with my muscles—I don’t really know!
It MIGHT BE a little bit psychological, particularly if you can memorize notes. I find that students can usually do far more than they think they can. There are teachers who unintentionally beat students down, even intimidate, and have them frightened to take risks or challenges, or be creative, but I try to pull out the potential of students. Nothing is more rewarding than when they’re surprised about what they CAN do—for instance, memorization. I have some students who say, “Oh, I just can’t memorize,” and some students that it comes easy to. Well, there are ways to work at this—there aren’t short cuts, it’s difficult—but there are ways that one can improve.

JR: I remember being told that you have to practice the button-pushing as much as the key-pressing.
PJ: I focus with students on playing the organ beautifully. Not only the music, but the instrument, the console. You watch pianists or violinists—the grace with which they play! And many organists sit up there looking rather rigid and stiff. Particularly with consoles that are more visible these days, we have to physically be confident when we play. We don’t want to be overwhelmed by the organ, we want to be in perfect alignment with it. And you’re right—the idea of practicing pushing pistons, and pushing them at the right time—these technical things have to be practiced. But when you actually play them, you want the timing to be musical. You want to push them gracefully. All of these things have to serve the music; they can’t just be technical exercises.

JR: You spoke of people who are stiff sitting at the organ. Have you ever had a problem with muscle tension?
PJ: Well, I haven’t, other than maybe practicing. When one does a lot of practicing, fatigue can set in, muscles can become a little sore. There are organists who think that you have to sit completely still, that you have to be able to balance a glass of milk on your hand, you don’t want any unnecessary movements. Well, some people are naturally quieter at the console, and some people are a little freer, they move more. And that’s ok! You have to do what is comfortable.
Certainly with beginners you have to be very careful about extraneous motion and movement. At a more advanced stage, you develop your own musical personality, and your physical personality when you’re playing, and it’s ok to move. Just move the body! Just as long as you’re relaxed. And if being relaxed means being still, so be it. If it means moving, that’s fine too. But there are many organists that sit almost as if they’re frightened to move, they’re intimidated by pushing buttons, making sure everything’s right on. If you don’t revel in what you’re doing, if the technical demands of playing the organ are overwhelming you, you won’t enjoy it. And you need to enjoy! It seems so obvious and logical—you need to not only musically and mentally enjoy the music, but you need to physically enjoy the music while you’re playing. There’s nothing wrong with that.

JR: Our culture trivializes music—for the most part, it’s considered background noise, playing while one does something else. People prefer music that is short, simply constructed, and any melody must be very simple and accessible. Given this, how can we as organists reach people? Schools are eliminating music instruction; serious organ music is scarcer in churches—there are a lot of organists who can’t play it, or won’t; and fewer people are going to church. So the opportunities for exposure to things like Bach and Messiaen are fewer and fewer. How do we react to that? What can we do?
PJ: Anyone who says that he or she cares about music or values it has an obligation to take action. And what I have found is that many people do acknowledge these problems—at least those of us who play music and listen to music. So what is the next step? I see most of popular culture as extremely corrosive to what we try to accomplish as musicians. And I think we organists first need to put ourselves in a larger context, and start thinking in broader terms. I do find that our profession is far too isolated. We organists need to get out of the loft and listen to operas, listen to chamber music, go to hear the symphony—we need music, in all of its manifestations. It is, however, possible to really like music and to be intrigued by it at a high level, without being passionate about it. Those of us who are passionate about music need to challenge those who are merely intrigued by it, to make them even more sensitive. This is what we have to do: build an army of individuals who possess an unwavering commitment to the creation of a musically literate society.
Popular culture is extremely destructive to beauty because it serves the opposite purpose of what true music and art serve—and that is, it numbs us. Because music is in the background and not the foreground, one is not expected to listen to it with this full spirit, being, mind—whatever term you wish to use. And that essentially desensitizes. Art music is supposed to make one more sensitive to beauty and life. That is to say, we learn how to listen carefully and deliberately—for there are so many alluring details in the music that desire our full undivided attention.

JR: If we say we care, then we have an obligation to take action.
PJ: And that is to say, to challenge the culture. I see my obligation as an artist—I should say, one facet—is to challenge aggressively this corrosive popular culture. What does that mean? Write letters to newspapers and other organizations, make noise about what you do. If you care, do you care enough to share what you profess to care about? Do you want to share it with someone else? If we value something, and we see the good in something, isn’t it logical to want to share it? I’ve become dismayed because I see quite clearly the enormous potential of a society which truly values music—the potential is there, and we see it on an individual level; we see what happens when a young person discovers the power of music in a very real and profound way. It’s something to celebrate. I have NO faith in the popular culture, but I have boundless faith at the individual level. I think that keeps me going, keeps me inspired, and wanting to continue living.

JR: Well, all right. If an audience member heard a serious program, and wasn’t used to that, how would you respond if they said they wanted to hear something that was easier to listen to?
PJ: Well, I would have a conversation with that person, first of all. I would be very patient initially. If the person said “I don’t understand that,” or “I don’t appreciate that,” that’s a fair statement, and it’s not making a judgment. It’s even fair to say “I don’t care for that.” But judging something that you don’t understand isn’t fair, and I guess I would attempt to help the person see this.
I remember having an interview for NPR’s Morning Edition, last year before my Messiaen program. And it was very clear to me that the person who interviewed me did very little preparation for the interview. I think she knew practically nothing about the organ, knew even less about the composer. And she said to me, “There are those who don’t like the organ. I’m wondering what you might say to that.” And my feeling was, you know, we live in a culture that sits back and says, “Prove to me that this is worthwhile”—that X is worthwhile, or that this has value, or that I should do this. Prove to me, show me—and they don’t take any initiative. And my feeling is, pick up a book yourself and read. Or take an organ or piano lesson. YOU have to take some initiative. You’re right, we’re so used to diluting everything these days. I find it troubling that many organists don’t seem to possess this zeal, this call to action. They possess it at some level, there’s some awareness of it, but it doesn’t determine their behavior, or their actions, or their everyday conversations with people, I don’t know how else to say it. There’s no fire in the belly—there has to be.

JR: You mentioned that we organists need to get out and listen to other musical forms, such as the symphony. What other music do you listen to?
PJ: We could be here all night! I will say quite clearly, I do not listen to popular entertainment. I have no interest in that sort of thing. I see that as corrosive, and as an artist and a musician, I feel obligated to challenge what our culture accepts as music. What do I listen to? I listen to six centuries of music—from plainchant and Ockeghem through Dallapiccola and Debussy. Recently, I’ve been listening a great deal to Mozart, perhaps more than I ever have in my life—specifically to the piano concerti and the sonatas. This summer I’ve rediscovered this music—specifically Ashkenazy playing the piano concerti, DeLarrocha the sonatas. And I’m very fond of the great Romantic repertoire—Mahler’s symphonies, Verdi’s operas, and Brahms’s chamber music. In the twentieth century, I find Alban Berg’s music quite voluptuous. But yes, I have very broad tastes, with the exception that I’m not fond of most popular music. I maintain that Western art music is the pinnacle. But of course, that would be challenged by more and more people today.

JR: During your time at Yale and at Curtis, what were you able to learn? I have the feeling that you were already technically skilled by the time you got to Curtis, so you didn’t need to work on technique. Is that correct?
PJ: No, not really. Certainly I would consider registration part of technique. That was something that I learned a great deal from both John Weaver and Thomas Murray—with regards to console control, and how to bring out the best from an instrument. Both John Weaver and Thomas Murray allowed me to be my own musical voice; they didn’t try to impose their own style upon me. And that is something that I have taken from them, and applied to my own style of teaching. I’m very grateful to both of them.

JR: How are you enjoying teaching at Juilliard?
PJ: Very much. And I should add that with the current situations of schools—such as Northwestern and of course the New England Conservatory—the situation at Juilliard could not be any better. The president of Juilliard, Joseph Polisi, has been extremely supportive of my vision for the department. And the talent that exists in the department is formidable. During a visit last year to organ class, Michael Barone referred to the department as a “hot shop!”

JR: You have indicated that the department would not really be growing in numbers, that it would be limited to a certain size. Is that correct?
PJ: It fits in with the school, because the school itself is small. Juilliard prides itself on being a small school, and our department is the size of some of the wind departments—flute, oboe—relatively similar in size. Ten organ majors is generally a good number for the Juilliard community. It could be bumped up a little, I suppose, and it might be, but not much.

JR: Do you find any difference either in outlook or ability or approaches between your students and those that you work with in master classes?
PJ: With master classes, one can be all over the map; there’s such variety. One thing that I insist on with each of my students is that they develop their own musical signature, right from the start. We don’t want any clones in the department—and there are none. I think if one visits the school and hears the department play, one will encounter rich variety and imagination in playing and in styles. And I encourage this—I insist upon it. I believe that a teacher at Juilliard needs to be quite demanding with the students, but the students are highly motivated and always rise to the occasion. I’m very proud of them.

JR: Do you have any big projects planned? Any more marathons, any more things of that nature?
PJ: I performed the Messiaen cycle again in Los Angeles, at the end of October, at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels. But with regards to something different, I look forward to pursuing new repertoire. Actually I am considering offering a Reger marathon, a Reger cycle—but not in the immediate future!

JR: Will you be making any more recordings?
PJ: Oh, yes, yes! I’ve neglected recording, simply because of other projects and such. But I am very keen on recording Messiaen and Reger in the near future.
I want to concentrate on other things right now, these being performing and certainly learning other repertoire. The snowball keeps growing larger, but I love it. This work provides such joy and fulfillment in my life, and meaning.

JR: Well, Paul, I will let you go get a cup of tea! Thank you so much for your time.
PJ: It’s been a pleasure talking with you.

James B. Hartman is Senior Academic Editor for publications of the Distance Education Program, Continuing Education Division, The University of Manitoba. His recent publications include articles on the early histories of music and theater in Manitoba. He is a frequent contributor of book reviews and articles to The Diapason.

                  All excellent things are as difficult as they are rare.

--Baruch Spinoza, Ethics (1677)

The organ has been a prominent feature of the musical life of Canada since the earliest days of the first European settlement. The first organs were brought from France to Québec City around 1600 and organbuilding flourished mainly in Québec and Ontario from the mid-nineteenth century onward.1 Growth in organbuilding accelerated in the years 1880-1950 following the establishment of Casavant Frères in 1879 in Saint-Hyacinthe, Québec. Therefore it is not surprising that organists became prominent around the same time.

As soon as trained musicians began arriving in Canada, usually from England, many of them opened music studios to offer private instruction in piano, voice, organ, and violin. Some were also active in community orchestras or served as church organists and choirmasters. A few took employment in local music stores to supplement their meagre income from professional duties. With the advent of silent films in the early 1900s some organists obtained positions at theaters that had installed pipe organs where they played improvised or specially arranged accompaniments to the events unfolding on the silver screen.

Although the great majority of organists were known only in their local communities, some gifted individuals achieved wider recognition by making exceptional contributions to the musical culture of the country. This article will chronicle the careers and accomplishments of seven such outstanding organists who were active in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.

Frederick H. Torrington (1837- 1917) was born in Dudley, near Birmingham, England, where he received his early musical training. Later studies in piano, organ, theory, and choral music led to his position as organist at St. Ann's Church in Bewdley at the age of sixteen.

Torrington moved to Canada in 1856, first working as a piano tuner in Montréal then as organist-choirmaster at St. James Street Methodist Church. He taught privately and at several schools, and conducted instrumental and choral groups, including the Montréal Amateur Musical Union. For three years he was bandmaster of the 25th Regiment, Queen's Own Borderers. In 1869 he organized the Canadian section of an orchestra that performed in the First Peace Jubilee in Boston. In the same year he settled in Boston to become organist at King's Chapel and to join the New England Conservatory of Music as teacher of piano and organ; he also conducted various choral groups and was violinist in the Harvard (later Boston) Symphony Orchestra. He gave organ recitals in Boston, New York, and other eastern cities.

In 1873 Torrington returned to Canada to become organist-choirmaster at Metropolitan Methodist Church in Toronto and conductor of the Toronto Philharmonic Society 1873-94. His influence on the musical life of Toronto included conducting choral-orchestral works and organizing musical festivals. Other activities included director of music at the Ontario Ladies' College in Whitby, conductor of the Hamilton Philharmonic Society in the 1880s, and founder of the Toronto Conservatory of Music in 1888, serving as its director until his death.

In the late 1880s Torrington became president of a group modelled on the Royal College of Organists, founded in England in 1864, dedicated to uniting organists and raising the standards of the profession. Although his group did not last for long, it was a predecessor of the Canadian College of Organists, founded in 1909. Torrington's work with various amateur orchestras led to the formal establishment of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra in 1906. He left his organist post at Metropolitan Church in 1907 for a similar position at High Park Methodist Church.

It should be recalled that in these times the organ was regarded as a substitute for the orchestra; consequently, organ recital programs usually included a number of transcriptions. For example, one of Torrington's recitals in 1869 included Rossini's William Tell Overture and the Andante from Beethoven's Septet on the same program with Mendelssohn's Organ Sonata No. 1. Nevertheless, Torrington championed the music of Bach, and his performances of the master's works were enthusiastically received by his audiences. He composed several patriotic songs, a choral work, and some organ music.

Herbert A. Fricker (1868-1943) was born in Canterbury, England, where he received his early musical training as a chorister, and later as assistant organist, at Canterbury Cathedral. In London he studied with Frederick Bridge and Edwin Lemare. His subsequent career in Leeds included city organist, symphony orchestra founder and conductor, and festival choirmaster, along with other positions as organist in various churches and schools, and as a choral society conductor.

Fricker came to Canada in 1917 to become conductor of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, a position he held until 1942. His cross-border musical activities began immediately with his choir's program with the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski in 1918; this reciprocal association continued for seven years. Under Fricker's leadership the choir gave Canadian premieres of several major choral works by such composers as Beethoven, Berlioz, and Walton. Fricker served as organist at Metropolitan United Church, Toronto 1917-43, organ instructor at the Toronto Conservatory of Music 1918-32, staff member at the University of Toronto, and conductor of the Canadian National Exhibition chorus 1922-34. He was an active organ recitalist and adjudicated many competition festivals. He was president of the Canadian College of Organists 1925-6.

Fricker composed several organ works and made arrangements for organ, all published by various London firms. His choral pieces included both sacred and secular works. Over his lifetime Fricker accumulated an extensive library of books and musical scores that were given to Toronto libraries after his death.

William Hewlett (1873-1940) was born in Batheaston, England, where he was a choirboy at Bath Abbey before moving to Canada with his family in 1884.

In his new country he enrolled at the Toronto Conservatory of Music where he studied organ, piano, theory, and orchestration, graduating in 1893 with a gold medal for organ playing and extemporization. While in Toronto he served as organist-choirmaster at Carlton Street Methodist Church at the age of seventeen. In 1895 he moved to London, Ontario, to become organist-choirmaster at Dundas Centre Methodist Church and conductor of the London Vocal Society 1896-1902. Later he moved to Hamilton, Ontario, to become musical director at Centenary Methodist Church 1902-38; his Twilight Recitals on Saturday afternoons were a significant aspect of the Hamilton music scene for about twenty-five years. He was one of the founders of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and served as its first accompanist 1895-7, and he accompanied the celebrated singers Ernestine Schumann-Heink and Dame Clara Butt when they visited Canada. He was one of the co-directors of the Hamilton Conservatory of Music and served as its sole principal 1918-39; during this time he travelled widely in Canada as adjudicator and examiner. He conducted the Elgar Choir, which was frequently joined by the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra. In 1927 he conducted a 1000-voice choir in a celebration of the sixtieth anniversary of the Confederation of Canada.

Hewlett was a prolific composer in the smaller forms; he contributed to the Methodist Hymn and Tune Book (1917) and was one of the compilers of the United Church Hymnary (1930). He was one of the most respected Canadian organists of his generation and an expert on church organ installations. He served as national president of the Canadian College of Organists 1928-9.

Healey Willan (1880-1968) was born in Balham (later part of London), England, and was taught music at the age of four by his mother and his governess. At the age of eight he entered St. Saviour's Choir School, Eastbourne, where he studied piano and organ. By the age of eleven he directed the choir and alternated with the incumbent organist in playing evensong services. After private organ study in London he served as organist-choirmaster at three churches in various parts of England in succession 1898-1913. During this time he developed a reputation as an authority on plainchant in the vernacular (i.e., English, not Latin).

Willan came to Canada in 1913 to head the theory department of the Toronto Conservatory of Music and to become organist-choirmaster at St. Paul's Anglican Church, Toronto. His recital programs around this time exhibited his comprehensive repertoire, including much English music. In 1914 he was appointed lecturer and examiner for the University of Toronto and served as director of the university's Hart House Theatre, writing and conducting music for plays. He was vice-principal of the Toronto Conservatory of Music 1919-25 but his position was terminated as an economy measure and possibly on account of internal politicking involving Ernest MacMillan (see below). In 1921 he became organist-choirmaster at the Anglican Church of St. Mary Magdalene, an association that continued until his death; while there he introduced an Anglo-Catholic style of service music.

Apparently Willan possessed a facetious brand of wit: he was heard to say that the organ was a dull instrument, that organ recitals bored him, and that he was unable to play his own major compositions. On being elected president of the Arts and Letters Club of Toronto in 1923 he promptly set its constitution to music.

Willan held many influential appointments: member of the Arts and Letters Club for fifty years, president 1923; president of the Canadian College of Organists 1922-3, 1933-5; honorary president and life member of the Royal Canadian College of Organists; university organist at the University of Toronto 1932-64 and teacher of counterpoint and composition 1937-50; president of the Authors and Composers Association of Canada 1933; chairman of the board of examiners of Bishop's University; summer guest lecturer at the University of Michigan 1937, 1938; chairman of the British Organ Restoration Fund to help finance the rebuilding of the organ at Coventry Cathedral 1943; summer guest lecturer at the University of California at Los Angeles 1949; co-founder and musical director of the Gregorian Association of Toronto, 1950; founder and musical director of the Toronto Diocesan Choir School; and fellow of the Ancient Monuments Society of England. He was commissioned to compose an anthem for the coronation of Elizabeth II in 1953, the first nonresident of Britain to be so honored.

Willan's public honors included the Canada Council Medal 1961, Companion of the Order of Canada 1967, and a diploma from the Province of Ontario in recognition of his role in Canadian musical life. A group of his admirers formed the Healey Willan Centennial Celebration Committee to encourage activities marking the centenary of his birth in 1980, and the Canada Post Office issued a commemorative stamp bearing his portrait.2

Willan was a prolific composer. His works encompassed dramatic music, vocal music with instrumental ensemble, works for orchestra and band, chamber music, piano works, organ works,3 and choral works; many of the latter have been recorded by groups in Canada, the USA, and England. He also wrote twenty-four articles on church music and organ playing.4

Lynwood Farnam (1885-1930), who became a legend in the organ world, was born in Sutton, Québec, a small town southeast of Montréal. Following basic musical training he continued his studies for three years as a scholarship student at the Royal College of Music in London, England, beginning in 1900. He held several church positions in Montréal and taught at the McGill Conservatorium until accepting a post at Emmanuel Church, Boston, in 1913. The story is that he impressed the audition committee by presenting a list of 200 pieces that he had committed to memory, stating that he was willing to perform any of them; he was hired immediately.

After overseas service during the war Farnam became organist-choirmaster at Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, New York, in 1919. By the time he played his last recital there in 1920 he had given 500 organ recitals. As a concert organist his performances were noted for their flawless technique, infallible memory, and profound musicianship. His reputation was consolidated among his colleagues by a dazzling performance for the American Guild of Organists in 1920. In 1925 he made organ rolls for two companies that manufactured player organs. 

Farnam's New York fame gained him an appointment in 1927 as head of the organ department at the Curtis Institute of Music, Philadelphia, where he taught weekly until his death at the age of forty-five. His pupils included a number of prominent Canadian and American organists. At the climax of his career in 1928-9 he played the complete organ works of Bach in twenty recitals in New York, repeating each program at least once in response to public demand.

Although Farnam did no improvising and composed only one piece for organ, he was one of the great interpreters of his time, introducing North American and European audiences to contemporary organ music, particularly that of French and American composers, as well as to the forerunners of Bach. Louis Vierne dedicated his Organ Symphony No. 6 (1931) to Farnam's memory.

Ernest MacMillan (1893-1973) was born in Mimico (Metropolitan Toronto), the son of a Scottish Presbyterian minister who became an internationally recognized hymnologist. He began his organ study at the age of eight with the organist of Sherbourne Street Methodist Church in Toronto and performed in public shortly thereafter. He accompanied his father to Edinburgh, Scotland 1905-8, where he had the opportunity to take lessons from Alfred Hollins, the noted blind organist, occasionally substituting for him at St. George's West Church, Edinburgh. Around the same time he enrolled in music classes at the University of Edinburgh in preparation for his first diploma. Upon returning to Toronto, now at the age of fifteen, he took an appointment as organist at Knox Presbyterian Church, where he remained for two years. He then returned to Edinburgh and London to complete his work for the Fellow, Royal College of Organists diploma and extramural Bachelor of Music degree at Oxford University, both awarded in 1911 before his eighteenth birthday. Back in Toronto he served as organist-choirmaster at St. Paul's Presbyterian Church in Hamilton, commuting on weekends.

Thinking that his piano training had been neglected on account of his concentration on the organ, he went to Paris in 1914 for private study. While visiting Germany at the outbreak of war he was detained as a prisoner of war; there he befriended other English composers (including Quentin Maclean, see below), organized a camp orchestra for musicals, and concentrated on composition, including a work later submitted as part of the requirements for his Doctor of Music degree from Oxford University.

Back in Canada in 1919 he embarked on a lecture-recital tour of the west in which he played organ pieces and described his experiences as a war prisoner. In 1920 he began teaching organ and piano at the Canadian Academy of Music, and in 1926 became principal of the amalgamated Toronto Conservatory of Music. As an examiner and festival adjudicator, he travelled extensively throughout Canada offering stimulation and encouragement for musical development in small centers. In the following year he became dean of the Faculty of Music at the University of Toronto, initially a titular position.

By this time MacMillan had moved away from the organ as an exclusive preoccupation; his new interests included education, administration, and developing systems and policies, although he continued to conduct and to compose new music and arrange old music as required. One of his unusual projects, in collaboration with an ethnologist in 1927, was recording and notating music of native peoples in northern British Columbia. In 1931 MacMillan became conductor of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, a position that enabled him to develop an unused potential. In 1935 King George V knighted him for his services to music in Canada. In the late 1930s he gained fame as a conductor in the USA, appearing in such prominent series as the Hollywood Bowl concerts and with the symphony orchestras of Chicago, Philadelphia, and Washington, DC.

1942 was a banner year for MacMillan: first, he was offered, but did not accept, an invitation to succeed Donald Francis Tovey in the Reid Chair of Music at the University of Edinburgh; second, he succeeded Herbert Fricker as conductor of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir (see above). In 1945 he filled conducting engagements in Australia, and in Rio de Janeiro in the following year. Also in 1946 he was instrumental in establishing the Canadian Music Council and served as president of the Composers, Authors, and Publishers Association of Canada until 1969; one of his first projects was the organization of a concert of Canadian music for the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. As part of his renewed interest in the piano he performed piano concertos with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, gave recitals, and made radio broadcasts. In 1950, during a weeklong festival to celebrate the Bach bicentenary, he offered a lecture-recital on the Clavierübung, playing all of Book 3 from memory. Although he resigned as conductor of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra in 1956, and of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir in 1957, he still accepted conducting engagements with other musical organizations, travelled throughout Canada to initiate new projects to encourage young musicians, and acted as a classical disc jockey for a Toronto radio station.

MacMillan was a productive composer of musical works for the stage, orchestra, orchestra and choir, band, chamber groups, keyboard, and choir and voice. His writings included works on music instruction, articles in music journals, and other publications. He has been the subject of numerous articles by other writers.

Recognized as Canada's musical elder statesman, in later years MacMillan served as a member of the first Canada Council 1957-63 on account of his extensive participation in the musical arts. He participated in the formation of the Canadian Music Centre, serving as its president 1959-70, and of the Jeunesses musicales of Canada, serving as its president 1961-3. He received the Canada Council Medal in 1964. He was recognized by many public tributes on his seventieth and seventy-fifth birthdays, and these events were marked by special publications and revivals of his works. In 1970 he was made a Companion of the Order of Canada.

Quentin Maclean (1896-1962) was born in London, England, and studied organ there in the early 1900s and with Karl Straube (organ) and Max Reger (composition) in Leipzig 1912-14. During World War I he was interned in Germany where he met Ernest MacMillan (see above). In 1919 he served as assistant organist at Westminster Cathedral, then toured British theaters with newsman Lowell Thomas, providing background music for a lecture-film on Palestine. He was theater organist at many English cinemas 1921-1939 and began to broadcast regularly on BBC radio in 1925.

Maclean moved to Canada in 1939 where he continued his theater organ career in Toronto for ten years. He became one of the best-known organists of his time for his frequent radio broadcasts of background organ music for plays, poetry readings, and music for children's programs. He was organist-choirmaster at Holy Rosary Church 1940-62 and taught at the Toronto Conservatory of Music and at St. Michael's College, University of Toronto.

Maclean composed concertos for organ (two), harpsichord, piano, electric organ (two), harp, and violin; works for solo organ (eight), pieces for orchestra and other solo orchestral instruments, a string quartet, piano pieces, a cantata, and other choral works, among others. He was noted for his diverse musical interests, technical skills, musical memory, and high standards in the composition and performance of serious music, secular and liturgical.

*

Two features are noteworthy with respect to the individuals surveyed here. With the exceptions of Farnam and MacMillan they were born in England and received their early musical training there, which undoubtedly influenced their later musical orientation. Two of them lived for some time in the USA: Torrington 1869-73 and Farnam 1919-30, periods in which their careers flourished. The wide range of the experience and achievements of the seven organists is impressive. Taken collectively, they exhibited exceptional competence in a broad variety of activities: church musician, concert recitalist, teacher, lecturer, composer, arranger, conductor, festival organizer and adjudicator, examiner, writer, academic administrator, academic staff member, president of a professional organization, and expert on organ installation. At least one became a recognized authority in a specialized field (Willan, plainchant). All of them can be counted among those who have contributed significantly, in their specialized fields, to the musical life of Canada. 

Notes

                  1.              For a brief history of organbuilding and the major manufacturers, see James B. Hartman, “Canadian Organbuilding,” The Diapason 90, no. 5 (May 1999): 16-18; no. 6, (June 1999): 14-15.                 

                  2.              With Canadian soprano Emma Albani (1847-1930), who was commemorated in the same way at the same time, Willan was the first Canadian musician to be honored in this fashion.

                  3.              Willan made significant contributions to music for the organ. His monumental Introduction, Passacaglia and Fugue (1916) was described by Joseph Bonnet as the greatest of its genre since Bach. Other works combine Englishness and European chromaticism reminiscent of Reger and Karg-Elert. After 1950 his works became more contrapuntal, and chorale preludes became his most frequent form of expression.

                  4.             See, for example, “Organ Playing in its Proper Relation to Music of the Church.” The Diapason 29, no. 10 (October 1937): 22-23. He discusses the different--but sometimes overlapping--functions of concert organists (excelling in technique) and church organists (beautifying the liturgies or verbal forms, supporting the congregation, accompanying the choir, and welding the entire service into an appropriate whole). “As a general rule, I do not like large organs, large choirs or large noises of any sort, but there are occasions when grandeur is not only appropriate, but positively necessary . . .” (23). 

The biographical information in this article is derived from the Encyclopedia of Music in Canada, Second Edition, and is used by permission from the University of Toronto Press.

July 1-6, 2002

Larry Palmer is a contributing editor of The Diapason.

Despite heat and humidity this convention proved to be a stellar presentation of high-quality events. Indeed, throughout the week's major recitals there were probably more drops of sweat than dropped notes! Careful thought had gone into programming: each day began with recitals (or a recital followed by a repertoire session). Worship (preceded by a short concert) began the afternoon, followed by educational workshops. Each evening featured an 8 p.m. concert. Artists and instruments were well matched. Disruptions and problems were minimal, especially considering the large number of registrants. Chartered bus transportation was efficient (and cool). In a well-planned and executed first, public transport schedules and directions were provided for those who wished to take charge of their own itineraries, and guides aided these intrepid adventurers.  A large number of center-city events took place within a reasonable walking distance.

This was the fourth convening of an American Guild of Organists national gathering in Philadelphia, previous conventions having occurred in 1930, 1939, and 1964. Many still recall, as well, the 1977 International Congress of Organists in this unique city of major symphonic and retail-store pipe organs, the Ben Franklin Busybody mirror, cheese steaks, and assorted historic charms.

This report will, of necessity, represent only one person's schedule. I attended all the major concerts, save one. As for workshops, the elegant (though heavy) 278-page program book listed 80 (of which one was cancelled); I was able to sample four. Daily worship offerings, in addition to the early morning ecumenical services held at the convention hotel, numbered fourteen. I got to two of them. A chronological report seems pointless; the convention was divided into four color-coded groups, each assigned to attend many of the events at different times.

Two orchestral programs at Girard College

The Philadelphia Orchestra's new concert venue, Verizon Hall in the downtown Kimmel Center for the Arts, presently contains only the façade of a large Dobson pipe organ scheduled for completion in 2006. Thus concerts with orchestra were scheduled on Tuesday and Saturday evenings in the Chapel of Girard College, home to a magnificent four-manual E. M. Skinner organ. That Tuesday's offering happened at all was a tribute to professionalism and sheer determination! Because of the stifling heat, the orchestral musicians would have been justified in refusing to play; indeed, union rules allow them to refuse to perform in such adverse conditions. The performances, however, ranged from heroic to outstanding. James David Christie opened the program as soloist in the first modern performance of the just-published Widor Symphonie in G minor, opus 42 bis--an arrangement of the first and last movements from the composer's Sixth Organ Symphonie with a middle movement arranged from the Andante of the Second Organ Symphonie. Almost immediately, during the second statement of the opening theme the stand lights for half the orchestra and the conductor suddenly went out; so the performers overcame not only heat and humidity but relative obscurity, in addition to constant distraction as technicians tried to rectify the lighting problem.

The fun of hearing familiar music in a new and attractive guise coupled with the drama surrounding its performance led to shouts of "Bravo" and sustained applause from the overflow audience, which, no matter how uncomfortable it might have been, seemed to realize that the players were even less comfortable!

With full lighting restored, Craig Phillips was the deft soloist in his own Concertino for Organ and Chamber Orchestra (1995), a three-sectioned work of great melodic and rhythmic appeal, played without pause.

Although four overheated players exercised their option of leaving the orchestra at intermission, there was an immediate new sense of purpose as Diane Meredith Belcher made her entrance to play the Jongen Symphonie Concertante, opus 81! The organ console's central placement high above the stage allowed favorable sight lines for observing Ms. Belcher's energetic, musical, and poetic performance of Jongen's impressionistic tour-de-force, arguably the most successful coupling of organ and orchestra in the repertoire. The performance of this intricate work was a marvel of synchronization, made more so since the pipes of the 1933 organ are installed in the ceiling, at considerable distance from the console. The assistant conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, Bulgarian-born Rossen Milanov, proved himself an able collaborator.

The Saturday closing concert, an evening of inspired choral singing from the 38-member Voices of Ascension, with orchestra and Mark Kruczek, organist, conducted by Dennis Keene, found us back at Girard College. Relief from the punishing heat had arrived on Friday and a significant number of conventioners departed on Saturday, so the Chapel was not as overwhelmed with audience as it had been for the opening concert. Carlyle Sharpe's short AGO/ECS Publishing award-winning choral work Laudate Nomen served as an upbeat, rhythmically-pungent "curtain-raiser" to the premiere of Ruth Watson Henderson's 24-minute cantata From Darkness to Light. From the quiet opening tympani notes to the hushed and yearning setting of the final words, "Darkness sang to the light and the kiss of love was peace," this lovely work, alternating Biblical texts (sung by baritone soloist Charles Robert Stephens) and choral settings of poems by the 20th-century Canadian writer Wilfred Watson, spoke in a communicative but individual tonal language. Impressionistic harmonies, a constant sense of forward motion, and deft handling of the orchestral voices all combined to make this the most immediately appealing of the large-scale commissions for Philadelphia 2002. It is definitely a work worthy of repeated hearings.

As an unscheduled addition to the program we were given a polished performance of C. Hubert H. Parry's coronation anthem I Was Glad, complete with the often-omitted cries of "Vivat Regina Elisabetta," an appropriate gesture in this, the British Queen's Golden Jubilee year. It was especially gratifying to have one final opportunity to revel in the grandiose full sound of the Girard Chapel organ, one of the finest surviving examples of E. M. Skinner's late work.

A major theme of this gathering was the celebration of the centenary of the birth of French composer Maurice Duruflé. All of his organ works were programmed during this week, as were the unaccompanied Four Motets on Gregorian Themes. For the culminating final offering of this remembrance, Keene and his superb Voices of Ascension performed Duruflé's Requiem, opus 9, with mezzo-soprano Zehava Gal. One of the most beloved settings of these ancient texts, Duruflé's masterpiece received a sublime reading, with every subtle nuance aptly and carefully observed. It was obvious that all involved knew the work intimately. I have never heard a better realization of this haunting, gentle score which I first experienced in 1959 in Holland, with the composer himself at the organ.

Three top-notch organ recitals: Parker-Smith, Morrison, Miura

A third memorable event at Girard College was the spectacular July 4 organ recital by Jane Parker-Smith. Noting that 226 years ago to the very day a group of gentlemen in Philadelphia had declared independence from Great Britain, convention general chair Dennis Elwell remarked that "the convention committee had invited two British organists to play at this gathering to demonstrate that we were gracious winners." Indeed we were all winners to enjoy such artistry! Flanked by two registrants, Ms. Parker-Smith put the organ through its paces in a program of virtuoso works that, in her hands (and feet), never seemed to overwhelm or tire the listener: Impetuoso (Wiedermann), Passacaglia in D minor (Middelschulte--a major work of 62 variations incorporating both the BACH motive and the chorale Ein' feste Burg), Toccata, opus 12 (Germani). Duruflé's opus 4, Prelude, Adagio, and Chorale Variations on the Veni Creator, has rarely sounded better. Especially compelling was Parker-Smith's playing of the beautiful Adagio, her pavane-like statement of the Chorale, and her attention to some surprising manual counterpoint in the accompaniment to the 4-foot pedal flute solo of the third variation. Scherzo Symphonique, transcribed by Jeremy Filsell from a 1974 improvisation by Pierre Cochereau, brought this outstanding recital to a quicksilver conclusion.

Alan Morrison in Princeton

For this listener the new organ work making the most lasting impression during the week was William Bolcom's Borborygm (a Latin/Greek word meaning "a rumbling of the bowels"), based on sketches by the late William Albright and dedicated to his memory by his long-time University of Michigan colleague. Beginning with the eponymous quiet low rumblings in the pedal, the 9-minute work reached its climax in a repeated, drum-like ostinato passage, and then subsided into quietness. Constantly arresting and interesting, this skillful work by the distinguished Pulitzer Prize-winning composer suggested Albright's style without sounding like an imitation. Morrison's performance was riveting, as was his entire recital (heard in the first of its four repetitions).

Another reconstructed Cochereau improvisation, Berceuse in Memory of Louis Vierne, utilized the melody of Vierne's own Berceuse (from 24 Pieces in Free Style)--a tune with startling similarity to the opening phrase of the Rodgers and Hart song There's a Small Hotel. At the climax of this piece Morrison utilized the brilliant Gallery Trumpet stop for the first time in his program.

Masterful command of registration and a deep understanding of the work characterized Morrison's playing of Duruflé's Suite, opus 5. The somber E-flat minor Prelude, perhaps the composer's most elegiac work, waxed and waned with powerful force; the daunting cross rhythms of the Sicilienne were expertly limned, and the thrilling, if over-exposed, Toccata (with the composer's revised ending) was tossed off with virtuoso aplomb.

A week largely devoted to organ music reminded one most pointedly of the absolute need for a sympathetic acoustical space if the organ is to be a successful musical medium. The Princeton University Chapel provided such an enjoyable partnership of noble Gothic-revival edifice with noble four-manual E. M. Skinner/Aeolian-Skinner/N. P. Mander organ (1928/1954-56/1991) installed on both sides of the chancel, plus additional divisions in the nave and west gallery.

Hatsumi Miura in Chestnut Hill

A breath of the past was just the needed antidote to three days of large electric-action organs, orchestral transcriptions, and mostly 20th-century repertoire; a more effective aural cleanser than Hatsumi Miura's elegant playing of the three-manual 45-stop Mander tracker organ (2000) of suburban Chestnut Hill's Presbyterian Church would have been difficult to imagine! The gentle tonal variety offered by the organ's slightly-unequal Kellner temperament, the player's artistic range of touches, and her beautifully-developed program in which works of Frescobaldi, Cabezón, and Cabanilles set off the novelty of Jehan Alain's medieval estampie-like Fantasmagorie and, as emotional high point, his Première Fantasie, led us to the satisfaction of stylistically-played Bach (the double-pedal An Wasserflüssen Babylon, BWV 653b and Prelude and Fugue in C, BWV 545). Brava Miura for this musical high point, and bravo Mander for an eloquently voiced instrument consisting of an encased Great, Swell, and Pedal, with separately encased Choir on the gallery rail, all with full 61-note manuals and 32-note pedal, thank you very much!

The organ as fun

For a group of professionals who take themselves very seriously far too much of the time, it was salutary to experience the organ as entertainment, lighter fare, yes . . . even fun! Among multiple opportunities to do this: the effervescent Hector Olivera amazed with his astounding musicianship at the Roland Atelier AT 90S digital keyboard instrument, especially with an expertly-nuanced and accurately-colored transcription of Stravinsky's Firebird Suite. With faux-castanets clicking from his keyboard-orchestra he brought down the house with a Foxian rendition of Bach's Gigue Fugue. Introducing the concert, Olivera's duo partner Richard Morris quipped "You've heard music you're supposed to hear this week; now here's what you want to hear!" Best of their collaborative efforts (prefaced by Morris' comic proffering of a tuning note and Olivera's "tuning" of his electronic-keyboard tympani) was their performance of the Poulenc Concerto in G minor. A two-keyboard version of Guilmant's Symphony Number 1  for Organ and Orchestra, opus 42, allowed a comparison of this composer's adaptation from a solo organ work with that of Widor heard at the opening concert. Of the two, Guilmant's seemed to be a more idiomatic, better balanced essay for organ and orchestra.

To lighten the procedings at the complimentary breakfast and annual AGO business meeting on Saturday morning, the Philadelphia Organ Quartet (Michael Stairs, Colin Howland, Rudolph Lucente, and Peter Richard Conte) provided their own brand of zaniness at four electronic instruments. Popular favorites included a rip-roaring Light Cavalry Overture thundering forth from twelve keyboards and four pedalboards, Tiptoe Through the Tulips for "petals" alone, and a relentlessly funny spoof of authentic performing practice, a "newly-discovered Sonata in C by the classical Swiss composer 'Monk Mueller'," for which Conte's instrument was tuned to a decidedly earlier (mis)temperament and a lower pitch than that employed by his accomplices.

Speaking of Peter Richard Conte, the Grand Court organist of the Wanamaker Organ at Lord and Taylor's department store displayed his considerable artistry on the world-famous six-manual instrument of more than 28,000 pipes. A twice-performed concert on the evening of July 4 featured his own transcriptions of Overture to Candide (Bernstein), The Sorcerer's Apprentice (Dukas), Edwin H. Lemare's arrangement of Wotan's Farewell and Magic Fire Music from Die Walküre (Wagner), and the truly unique opportunity to hear Dupré's Passion Symphony in its first complete performance on this organ since the composer first improvised it here in December, 1921. Historical performance practice of the first order! Conte's playing of the entire program was of the highest musicality, with an unimpeachable sense of timing and registration and absolute technical control. Both organ and building appeared to be in tip-top shape as were most of the convention venues. And what could have been more fitting than his encore, Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever, complete with alternating red, white, and blue lights and an unfurling monster flag? No additional fireworks were needed for this patriotic celebration!

More organ recitals

Martin Baker, the "other" British recitalist, was saddled with a smaller instrument (38 ranks of 1921 Austin spread over four manuals and pedal) in a padded room (the visually attractive Congregation Rodeph Shalom). Baker made what he could of his assignment, playing particularly well in Duruflé's Scherzo, opus 2 and in his improvisation on a Jewish psalm melody, for which he utilized rapid repeated notes in an effective and telling manner. Organ and space did not abet his flawless playing of Mendelssohn (Sonata in A), Liszt (Orpheus), or Reger (Chorale Fantasia on Ein' feste Burg).

Similarly disadvantaged, Ann Elise Smoot's recital preceding afternoon worship at St. Mark's Episcopal Church died on the "hothouse" vine of a packed church, afflicted by high humidity and a program that sandwiched the potentially-exciting Reger Chorale Fantasia on Hallelujah! Gott zu loben between two dutiful works by Stanford. In this setting Ms. Smoot was unable to churn up much excitement. At the succeeding worship service the much-discussed, usually-deplored new nave division appended to the historic Aeolian-Skinner organ managed to prove its mettle by ciphering.

For Cherry Rhodes' recital on the Martin Ott organ of Trinity Lutheran Church in suburban Lansdale the only piece that seemed at home was the opener, Bach's lovely mostly-manualiter Pastorale in F. This very Germanic instrument did not do much for Ms. Rhodes' otherwise masterful performances of French and French-leaning works: Scènes d'Enfant d'après "The Turn of the Screw" (Jean Guillou), Meditations on Salve Festa Dies (Fr. Marius Walter), and Variations on Victimae Paschali Laudes (Jiri Ropek), the latter performed in memory of University of Alabama organ professor Warren Hutton, whose sudden death at the pre-convention pedagogy conference had both shocked and saddened the assemblage.

Organist Robert Plimpton capitalized on the Austro-German accents of the 1974 Rieger organ in Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church for assured performances of Bach (Chorale Partita on Sei gegrüsset) and Buxtehude (Toccata in F, BuxWV 157). The organ failed to be as sympathetic to the French vocabulary of  Franck's Grande Pièce Symphonique. Plimpton performed his teacher Robert Elmore's Holiday for Organ as if it were his own, and he seemed to revel in this return to the 98-rank organ installed during his tenure at the church.*

Repertoire enrichment sessions

Two beloved organists, both master teachers, gave organ-related recent-repertoire "mini-recitals" at featured morning time slots: Marilyn Keiser (organ and instruments) and David Higgs (solo repertoire). A third session surveying some recent choral works was offered by Clifford Hill.

Keiser devoted her program to works by living American composers, concentrating on appealing performances of two from the four Psalms for Flute and Organ by Moonyeen Albrecht, Dan Locklair's Sonata da chiesa for flute and organ (both with the elegant collaboration of flutist Mimi Stillman), Robert Powell's Carols of Christmas (which charmed, but failed to cool the room), and, with the Fairmount Brass Quintet plus tympani and cymbals, Craig Phillips' Suite. It was fortunate that the artist chose this format, for open windows admitted as much street noise as air, and her several remarks were totally obliterated by the beeping of backward-intentioned trucks.

David Higgs presented first performances of two works from the commissioned Philadelphia Organ Book (consisting of six pieces). Especially attractive was Star Rising by first-time composer for the organ Erik Santos, who was present. Also in attendance was Emma Lou Diemer, composer of the second work premiered, Prepare the Royal Highway. Because of excessive heat in the non-air-conditioned First Presbyterian Church, Higgs shortened his program; on Thursday, he mentioned that, having dispensed with a jacket, he was "playing in his shirtsleeves for the first time ever in public performance."

The immediate "hit" of Higgs' program was Recollection (Soliloquy No. 2) by David Conte. ECS Publishing head Robert Schuneman reported that all thirty copies brought to the convention sold out immediately after Higgs' first presentation on Tuesday, and more than 200 orders for it were placed during the week. In celebration of the national holiday, Higgs ended his program with 19th-century Harvard Professor of Music John Knowles Paine's sturdy Double Fugue on My Country, 'tis of Thee for the Full Organ.

Competitions

Once again a distinguished panel of judges (Margaret Kemper, Mary Preston, and George Ritchie) confounded those listeners who sat through the complete final round of the National Young Artists Competition in Organ Playing by choosing a safe, middle-of-the-road winner, Timothy Olsen. As has been increasingly the case in recent competitions I have attended, the audience prize winner (selected by votes from those who "stick it out" for the complete program), second-ranked Kola Owalabi, provided more interesting and exciting music-making. If the goal of this competition is to launch a young artist's concert career, it would seem that, once again, the audience made a more "judicious" choice than did the judges.

Not one of these players succeeded equally in all four required pieces ("Great" Praeludium in E minor, Bruhns; Allein Gott in der Höh sei Ehr, BWV 663, Bach; Etude in A-flat, Schumann; Allegro maestoso [Symphonie III], Vierne). If pressed for my own choice it would have been third place winner Christian Schmitt, whose Vierne seemed to my ears the one performance conveying the menace inherent in this work. His Bruhns was stylistic, if less fanciful than Owalabi's, whose delightful playing of the Schumann was the only one to capture its fantasy and to translate the composer's pianistic idiom to the organ with reasonable success. As is often the case, flexibly-articulated, stylish Bach-playing eluded all three players.

Winners of the National Competition in Organ Improvisation (which I did not hear) were Peter Krasincki (first prize), Neil Weston (second), and David Macfarlane (third). All three improvised on themes submitted by Harry Wilkinson. Judges for this event were Mary Beth Bennett, Lynn Trapp, and John Vandertuin.

A few workshops

While only four in number, my workshop choices included a wide range of topics offered by presenters at various stages of their careers. Nevertheless, each was successful, and each workshop held my interest. On Tuesday, as preparation for the evening concert, I went to hear veteran Widor-scholar John Near discuss the composition and reception histories of the work we were to hear. I am a longtime admirer of Near's exemplary editions of the Widor organ symphonies; he has added further to his luster by preparing Widor's opus 42 bis for performance! Much of what he said had been printed in the extensive notes so generously provided in the convention program book. It was particularly gratifying to hear Near's reference to our own venerable journal as he quoted The Diapason report (April 1919) of the American premiere of Widor's Symphonie in G minor featuring organist Charles Courboin with the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Leopold Stokowski. (The journal's correspondent reported 10,000 auditors in Wanamaker's Grand Court; other sources suggested the tally might be as high as 12 or 15,000.)

At Tuesday evening's performance I was seated in the balcony, close to Dr. Near, and was therefore privy to his delight as he held in his hands, for the first time, printed copies of his new edition (published by A-R Editions, Madison Wisconsin).

On Wednesday I attended "Thomas Jefferson's 'Favorite Passion'," a workshop by younger scholar Nancy Cooper from the University of Montana at Missoula. She kept us engaged in Jeffersonian biography and Cooperian wit (beginning as she quoted the musical 1776, "It's hot as hell in Philadelphia"), doled out to an overflowing roomful of interested folk. Musical examples from Jefferson's music collection were played on a lovely three-stop continuo positive organ, opus one, by Michael Rathke, now of Fort Worth, Texas (formerly employed by Fisk of Gloucester).

For the Friday time slot, I chose to sample a session on the music of my Oberlin Conservatory classmate Calvin Hampton, presented by Shelly Moorman-Stahlman from Lebanon Valley College. Some unforeseen glitches in her PowerPoint presentation and some non-sequentially copied musical examples notwithstanding, Ms. Moorman-Stahlman gave a well-organized overview of Hampton's organ music and highlighted his expertise in hymn-writing. Her performance, from memory, of The Primitives and Everyone Dance from the composer's Five Dances (1982) served as aural "bookends" to her presentation, and reminded us anew of the terrible loss Calvin's death represents to the organ world. Almost too poignant in this context was a notice posted on the bulletin board beneath the organ gallery of Arch Street Methodist Church: "Because of AIDS we remember . . ."

Finally, on Saturday, I learned again from the redoubtable Marilyn Mason, who presented a workshop, "A Lifetime of New Music," highlighting some of her 78 commissions of organ music. Beginning with prayer, continuing with focused wit, dropping nuggets of wisdom as she proceeded, Professor Mason charmed her audience. She was joined by Jean Randall, who shared the playing of several pieces by Gregory Hamilton, Gordon Young and Jean Langlais from the just-published first volume of the Mason Music Library Collection of Commissioned Works for Organ (MorningStar Music Publishers). In addition, Ms. Mason played Toccata from Suite for Organ (1947) by Edmund Haines, her very first commissioned work.

As for memorable humor, Mason shared a story from her recent trip to Spain during which an old acquaintance, a priest, told her "Madame Professor, you are looking so well preserved." She also recounted her classic tale of an encounter with a Boston matron during a recital visit to Symphony Hall.  Queried by the dowager about her Mason family pedigree, the artist replied that she was "Just Miss Mason from Michigan." To this the Bostonian commented, "Here we think breeding is everything." Without missing a beat Mason responded, "In Michigan we think breeding is fun, but not everything . . ." Of equal value in the good advice department, Prof. Mason left us with the observation, "The amateur practices to get it right; the professional practices so it can't be played wrong."

Choral components

Fine choral singing graced the convention, starting with the Monday evening Gathering Celebration at the Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul. Gerre Hancock led his marvelous Saint Thomas (New York) Choir of Men and Boys in Duruflé's Four Motets; The Twelve by William Walton (whose centenary also occurs in 2002), and the first performance of a new work, Jacob's Prayer by Owen Burdick (to a text by Gian Carlo Menotti). Expecially lovely was Burdick's chordal setting of the words "O God, let me not die in darkness," and timely, too, for we were informed during priestly welcoming words that a power failure at 4 p.m. had rendered the building untenable for the evening service: "Only God's love (and the quick response of the electric company) restored organ, lights, and air conditioning in the nick of time." This was a relief on several fronts, since the weather deities historically seem to have had little regard for organ conventions. (I think of recent AGO gatherings in Boston, New York, Dallas, Denver; only Seattle was vouchsafed a pleasantly cool week!) It was good to know that, at least for the opening event, God appeared to be siding with organists!

The athletic, intricate accompaniment to Walton's joyous setting of master poet Wystan Auden's memorable text was handled skillfully by Judith Hancock. Stirring improvisations to open and close the service were created by Gerre Hancock and John Weaver. Another new work, Ceremonies for Organ and Brass Quintet by Jennifer Higdon, commissioned to mark the 100th anniversary of the Philadelphia Chapter of the AGO (the first "national" chapter outside New York City), clocked in at more than 30 minutes. This was simply  too much of a good thing. In future hearings, for which individual sections could be selected, the work might prove more effective. (I would suggest Opening Ceremony, Celebration [organ solo], and the last movement, Celebration.)

At the other end of the week, a Saturday concert by the Toronto Children's Chorus introduced the convention to Philadelphia's new concert venue in the Kimmel Center. Verizon Hall is cello-shaped, with four tiers of seats; the upper balconies actually surround the stage area. A dark wood interior, somewhat dry acoustically, has seats upholstered in vibrant red. This color was repeated in robes worn by 55 girl singers; the 13 boys were garbed in white shirts and black pants.

What a superb ensemble! Founder and conductor Jean Ashworth Bartle conducted the long and difficult program, drawing impeccable tuning, clear articulation, and satisfying musical results from her young charges. Their unified diction of Latin, German, and English texts was remarkable and easily understood, gratifying since there were several unannounced changes to the printed program. Pure sounds, plus added appoggiaturas, marked the stylish opening Stabat Mater (Pergolesi). An unaccompanied Ave Maria (Holst) and Eleanor Daley's delicate setting of Hilaire Belloc's The Birds (with piano) gave some welcome relief from the incessant brightness of the accompanying large electronic instrument by the Walker Technical Company.

Composer Ben Steinberg, urbane and succinct in his pre-premiere remarks, was given an exemplary first performance of his Psalms of Thanksgiving. Skillful writing for harp and cello (when not overbalanced by the organ) and flowing, singable choral lines resulted in 20 minutes of easy listening. Impressive poise and projection characterized the Chorus member who served as narrator. However, the work as a whole lacked sufficient variety to sustain interest. Like Jennifer Higdon's, this composition should fare better in excerpted form. Not for the first time during the week's new music I thought of the late Igor Kipnis' quotable quip about an interminable John Cage happening, "It reminded me of the New York Subway, but at least the Subway goes somewhere."

Some closing thoughts

Featuring "Rising Stars," winners of the 2001 AGO/Quimby Regional Competitions for Young Organists, as pre-service recitalists for the worship services proved an effective way to showcase emerging talent. I heard an adroit program of Vierne works played by Brett Maguire at Old St. Peter's Church on Tuesday. Previously I had sampled a Dallas presentation of her convention recital by Lucinda Meredith from Houston, also an assured and able player. The other "stars" in this constellation, still to be heard at some future occasions, included Tim Pyper, Christian Lane, Charles Burks, Thomas Schuster, Martin Grajeda, Jr., and Rico Contenti.

Following Maguire's recital a service of "Worship Through the Day" was offered by the 29-member choir from the Royal School of Church Music Training Course for Teenage Boys and Girls (10th grade through second-year college students), directed by Murray Forbes Somerville, with Eric Plutz, organist. Among a wide range of musical offerings was the first hearing of Douglas Major's anthem Love Poem to God (text by Rainer Maria Rilke) for choir, organ and synthesizer, featuring a congregational refrain ("What will you do, God, when I die?") signaled at each return by the haunting sounds of wind chimes. The young singers rose splendidly to the not-inconsiderable challenges of this work.

It was general cause for celebration to note a goodly contingent of younger AGO members, truly the future of the organization. Frequently manning the Exhibit Hall information booth for Oberlin Conservatory, organ majors Owen Cannon (entering freshman) and David Mislin (junior) were representative of these fresh faces. It was fun to recall the past, too, as I visited with Marjorie Jackson Rasche, FAGO, whom I met in 1957 as an Oberlin sophomore at my own very first AGO convention, a regional gathering in Akron, Ohio. Here she was in Philadelphia, seated next to me at the dinner-reception given by the Guild for members holding certification (FAGO, AAGO, ChM, CAGO, SPC). And, as unlikely as it might seem after reading that collection of letters, the ample Italian menu consisted of more than alphabet soup!

Diversity! It should be apparent to those reading this report that the program offered a wide range of offerings geared to many differing tastes. As a respite from continual organ music during the morning spent in Princeton, the seven-member New England Spiritual Ensemble sang a program of African-American music, their selections chosen to illustrate James Weldon Johnson's descriptive poem O Black and Unknown Bards. (And later, in Philadelphia, on a recreative walk, I discovered the historic marker dedicated to Francis Johnson [1792-1844], "America's first native-born master of music, African-American . . . .")

Another program "sorbet," though not on my schedule, was a concert by the Renaissance band Piffaro, early ensemble music sandwiched between carillon selections played by Lisa Lonie at St. Thomas Church, Whitemarsh, in Fort Washington.

The many Philadelphia connections between artists, pieces, and instruments (some of them noted in the remarks above) were appreciated. (Chairman Elwell and performance chair David Furniss are to be commended for this further felicity!) The plethora of faculty, students, and former students from the Curtis Institute of Music, in particular, made it apparent how very important this place of higher learning has been to the musical scene in Philadelphia and throughout the nation.

Another appreciated "first" at this meeting was the program book mention of the maintenance persons or firm responsible for upkeep and tuning of each convention organ.

Now that the 46th national convention of the American Guild of Organists has passed into history, might I suggest that, in order to secure the continued blessings of posterity, some of the expected profits generated by such a large attendance be set aside to endow an air conditioning assistance fund, with generous grants to the next east coast venue selected as host for a mid-summer convention? After all, who knows? There might not be any free paper fans, the next time around!

                  *Thanks to Dallas colleague Annette Albrecht, who served as my surrogate ears for Robert Plimpton’s recital.

                  Photographs by William Leazer (of the Dallas AGO Chapter).