Yuko Hayashi dead at 88

Nunc Dimittis

Wilbur R. Dodge, 83, died November 20, 2017, in Binghamton, New York, an engineer, physicist, professional photographer, English country dancer, organist, organbuilder, and organ technician. He graduated from Clarkson University and Harpur College (now Binghamton University) with degrees in electrical engineering and physics and followed in his father’s footsteps working at Ansco Film Company.  With Norman Smith, he started their company, R D & D before he moved on to Link Aviation where he worked on simulators for the Gemini and Apollo missions.

Dodge was a member of the choir and guest organist for various churches in the community including Trinity Memorial and Christ Churches. He also maintained and tuned pipe organs in churches throughout the region. He was dean of the Binghamton Chapter of the American Guild of Organists, 1999–2001. 

Wilbur R. Dodge is survived by his partner, Anneliese Heurich; children: Glenn Burch (Bellefonte, Pennsylvania), Michael and Tammy Burch (Deland, Florida), Barbara Burch (Paisley, Florida), and Laura Appleton (Binghamton); several grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A memorial service was held at Christ Episcopal Church in Binghamton on January 20.

 

Mark Coan Jones died December 24, 2017. Born February 25, 1957, in Asheville, North Carolina, he studied organ with Marilyn Keiser and with Donna Robertson at nearby Mars Hill College. For the past 22 years, Jones was director of music and organist for The Pink Church (First Presbyterian Church), Pompano Beach, Florida. He previously served St. Nicholas Episcopal Church, Pompano Beach; First Presbyterian Church, Newton, North Carolina; and Trinity Episcopal Church, Asheville.

Jones appeared with the Florida Philharmonic, New World Symphony, Lynn University Conservatory Orchestra, Young Artists Chamber Orchestra, Palm Beach Atlantic Symphony, and Miami Bach Society, and in collaborations with chamber groups and area choruses, including the Nova Singers, Florida Philharmonic Chorus, Master Chorale of South Florida, Masterworks Chorus of the Palm Beaches, Fort Lauderdale Christian Chorale, and Gay Men’s Chorus of South Florida. He arranged music for organ and brass and performed with the Dallas Brass, Avatar Brass, Empire Brass, Lynn Conservatory Brass, and Eastman Brass. He performed extensively across Europe, Scandinavia, and Russia, in collaborations and solo recitals. 

Jones’s organ compositions have been performed in venues across the United States and in Europe, and have been broadcast nationally. His Three Lenten Hymn Meditations, Trumpet Tune in D, and Lenten Hymntunes have been recorded and performed by various organists.

From 2006 through 2014, Mark was principal accompanist for the von Trapp Children, the great-grandchildren of the singing family made famous by the Rodgers & Hammerstein movie The Sound of Music. His solo appearances and concerts with the von Trapps included performances around the world.

Mark Coan Jones is survived by his parents Hubert Mack and Shirley Williams Jones of Asheville, his sister Suzanne Jones Hamel and husband Richard Anson Hamel of Covington, Kentucky, and his partner Hilarion (Kiko) Suarez Moreno of Deerfield Beach, Florida.

 

Yuko Hayashi died January 7 in Salem, New Hampshire, at the age of 88. She was born in Hiratsuka, Japan, on November 2, 1929. For more than 40 years she was professor of organ at the New England Conservatory and department chair for 30 years. As a performer, she concertized extensively on three continents—Asia, North America, and Europe—giving recitals and masterclasses in Japan, South Korea, the United States, Holland, Germany, Belgium, Austria, Switzerland, Denmark, Italy, Spain, and Portugal. She was the recipient of the coveted Arion Award from the Cambridge Society for Early Music as an “outstanding performer and master teacher of the historical organ.” She was also awarded the Distinguished Alumni Award from the New England Conservatory.

Hayashi graduated with a degree in organ performance from Tokyo University of the Arts in 1948 and for five years was organist for the symphony orchestra of NHK, the Japanese national broadcasting company. She came to the United States in 1953 on scholarship, sponsored by Philanthropic Educational Organization and studied for one year at Cottey College in Nevada, Missouri. She then transferred to the New England Conservatory in Boston where she was awarded three degrees in organ performance: Bachelor of Music, Master of Music, and Artist Diploma. In 1960 she began teaching at the conservatory and was appointed chair of the department in 1969 by then president Gunther Schuller. Her primary teachers were George Faxon, Donald Willing, Anton Heiller, and Gustav Leonhardt (harpsichord).

Her frequent travels to Europe began in 1966 when she went to the Haarlem Organ Academy in the Netherlands and began life-long associations with Anton Heiller, Luigi Tagliavini, and Marie-Claire Alain. In 1971, she studied with Michel Chapuis in France and was introduced to many historic organs in North Germany and Holland by Harald Vogel and Klaas Bolt. This was the beginning of many exchanges of concerts and masterclasses across the Atlantic Ocean between Boston and Europe. It was during this time that Hayashi became organist of Old West Church in Boston, performing on a new mechanical-action organ built by Charles B. Fisk. She served as organist there for nearly 40 years and was the founder and executive director of the Old West Organ Society until her retirement in 2010.

Beginning in 1970, Hayashi crossed the Pacific Ocean yearly to give recitals and masterclasses in Japan. With Italian organist Umberto Pineschi and the assistance of Japanese organ builder Hiroshi Tsuji and his wife Toshiko Tsuji, she founded the Italian Organ Academy in Shirakawa. She was influential in persuading organ committees from universities, churches, and concert halls to commission mechanical-action organs from organbuilders from around the world. Most noteworthy are the instruments for International Christian University (Rieger), Toyota City Concert Hall (Brombaugh), Minato Mirai Concert Hall, Yokohama (C. B. Fisk, Inc.), and Ferris University, Yokohama (Taylor & Boody, Noack Organ Company, and J. F. Nordlie Pipe Organ Company organs).

In 1989, Yuko Hayashi took a leave of absence from the New England Conservatory to accept a position as professor of organ at Ferris University, Yokohama. She taught there for six years before returning to Boston. She also became titular organist at St. Luke’s International Hospital Chapel, which houses an organ built by Marc Garnier of France. She was responsible for relocating a historic 1889 organ built by Hook & Hastings to St. Andrew’s Episcopal Cathedral in Yokohama where her father served as priest for many years.

Yuko Hayashi is survived by two brothers, Makoto Hayashi and Satoru Hayashi, and several nieces and nephews, all residing in Japan. A memorial service for Yuko Hayashi will be held at Christ Church, Andover, Massachusetts, April 28, at 11:00 a.m. Memorial contributions may be directed to: Old West Organ Society, c/o Jeffrey Mead, Treasurer, 72 Trenton Street, Melrose, Massachusetts 02176;  St. Andrew’s Cathedral, 14-57 Mitsuzawa-shimo-cho, Kanagawa-ku, Yokohama City, Kanagawa, 221-0852, Japan; or St. Luke’s International Hospital Chapel, c/o Organ Committee, 9-1 Akashi-cho, Chuo-ku, Tokyo, 140-8560, Japan.

 

Pierre Pincemaille, 61, died, January 12, an international concert organist, church organist, music professor, and composer. Born in Paris, France, December 8, 1956, Pincemaille was awarded five first prizes at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique de Paris (harmony, counterpoint, fugue, organ interpretation, and organ improvisation) and won five international improvisation competitions: Lyon (1978), Beauvais (1987), Strasbourg (1989), Montbrison (1989), and Chartres (1990).

In 1987, Pierre Pincemaille was appointed titular organist of the prestigious 1841 Cavaillé-Coll at the Gothic Saint-Denis Cathedral-Basilica. He loved accompanying beautiful liturgy there, amidst the tombs of the Kings of France. Highly inspired by Pierre Cochereau, Pincemaille founded a concert series there, from 1989 to 1994. For his 30th anniversary there, he performed his last concert on November 5, 2017, programming choral works he cherished, conducted by Pierre Calmelet: Louis Vierne’s Messe Solennelle and three of his own recently composed vocal motets (to be published), as well as J. S.
Bach’s Pièce d’Orgue, BWV 572, symbolizing for him the three periods of life.

Pierre Pincemaille also performed with orchestras under the direction of conductors such as Mstislav Rostropovitch, Myung-Whun Chung, Riccardo Muti, Charles Dutoit, and John Nelson. His recordings include the complete organ works of Maurice Duruflé and César Franck, Charles-Marie Widor’s ten symphonies, selected pieces by Jehan Alain, Pierre Cochereau, Olivier Messiaen, and Louis Vierne, his own improvisations and transcriptions of Stravinsky’s The Firebird and Petrushka, as well as works with orchestra by Camille Saint-Saëns, Hector Berlioz, Joseph Jongen, and Aaron Copland. Several of Pierre Pincemaille’s compositions were published: Prologue et Noël varié [Prologue and Variations on a Noel] (Sampzon, Delatour France, 2007), a 4-voice a cappella Ave Maria (Lyon, À Coeur Joie, 2013), and En Louisiane for trombone and piano (Delatour France, 2017).

Recently, Pierre Pincemaille taught counterpoint at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique de Paris, harmony at the Conservatory in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, and organ improvisation at the Conservatory in Saint-Maur-des-Fossés for the past 17 years. For the past 14 years, he formed a generation of French and foreign organ improvisers, many who have won prizes in international competitions: among them, six Parisian organists: David Cassan (at the Oratoire du Louvre), Thomas Lacôte (La Trinité), Samuel Liégeon (St.-Pierre-du-Chaillot), Hampus Lindwall (St.-Esprit), Baptiste-Florian Marle-Ouvrard (St.-Eustache), and Olivier Périn (St.-Paul-St.-Louis).

Among his honors and distinctions, Pierre Pincemaille was a Knight in the following three orders: the Academic Palms, Arts and Letters, and St. Gregory the Great. 

Pierre Pincemaille is survived by his wife, Anne-France, and their three children, Claire, Marc, and Éric.

—Carolyn Shuster Fournier, Paris, France

Leonardo Ciampa

Leonardo Ciampa is Maestro di Cappella Onorario of the Basilica di Sant’Ubaldo in Gubbio, Italy, and organist of St. John the Evangelist Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

When you see a bud growing out of the ground, you’re not sure what it is yet, so you water it and feed it, and you wait to see what it grows into. But you don’t want to step on it. And if the bud is very small, all the more important not to step on it.

—Yuko Hayashi

 

Yuko Hayashi is gone.

I feel unworthy of eulogizing her. I do not presume to rank among her greatest students—a very long list that includes James David Christie, Carolyn Shuster Fournier, Mamiko Iwasaki, Peter Sykes, Christa Rakich, Gregory Crowell, Mark Dwyer, Kevin Birch, Kyler Brown, Barbara Bruns, Ray Cornils, Nancy Granert, Hatsumi Miura, Tomoko Akatsu Miyamoto, Dana Robinson, Naomi Shiga, Paul Tegels, and others too numerous to name. 

I cannot describe, or comprehend, the fortune of being her student between the ages of 15 and 18—at the time, her only high school student. She was in her late 50s—still at the height of her powers, still performing internationally and recording. She brought a constant parade of heavy-hitters to Old West Church in Boston for recitals and masterclasses. During those three years alone (1986–1989), there were José Manuel Azkue, Guy Bovet, Fenner Douglass, Susan Ferré, Roberta Gary, Mireille Lagacé, Joan Lippincott, Karel Paukert, Umberto Pineschi, Peter Planyavsky, Michael Radulescu, Montserrat Torrent, Harald Vogel, and the list goes on. Yuko was something of an impresario. In the 70s, when Harald Vogel was completely unknown in America, she brought him to Old West to play his very first concert here—for $100, which she paid out of her own pocket! Guy Boet, same story—his first concert in America, for $100. In 1972, at the International Christian University (ICU) in Tokyo, Yuko organized the very first organ academy ever held in Japan, bringing both Anton Heiller and Marie-Claire Alain. In 1985, Yuko, Umberto Pineschi, and Masakata Kanazawa started the Academy of Italian Organ Music in Shirakawa. A list of her accomplishments would be long, indeed.

At the time, I knew virtually nothing about Yuko’s life or career. Meeting her was truly random. It was September of 1985 (Bach’s 300th birthday year). I was skimming the concert listings in The Boston Globe, and I happened to see that there was going to be an all-Bach organ and harpsichord concert at Old West Church, given by Peter Williams. I had never heard a “real pipe organ,” and I had never set foot in a Protestant church before. I had no idea who Peter Williams was, and I had no particular interest in the organ or harpsichord. I was a 14-year-old piano student in the New England Conservatory prep school. The craziest part of all? I had not the faintest idea that the New England Conservatory organ department held their lessons, classes, and concerts at Old West, or that the church’s organist happened to be department chair. Attending the concert was nothing more than a whim.

I was immediately grabbed, both by the sound of the Fisk’s ravishing plenum, and by Williams’s exquisite selections, all from Bach’s youth. I still remember every piece on the program, which opened with Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern, BWV 739. After the concert, a short but elegant Japanese woman introduced herself to me and shook my hand. I had no idea she had any affiliation with NEC. I’m not sure I even understood that she was the church’s organist.

Who could have predicted that, one year later, September 1986, I would quit the piano and become an organ student of Yuko, taking lessons on that same instrument? But even that was random. In the NEC prep school catalogue, under “Organ,” Yuko’s was the name listed. That’s the one and only reason I contacted her.

 

Early years in Japan

(1929–1953)

Yuko Hayashi was born in 1929 in Hiratsuka, a coastal town 24 miles from Yokohama. She was born on November 2. (She used to joke about having been born on All Souls’ Day, having missed All Saints’ Day by only one day!) Many of Yuko’s students would come to notice her unusual perceptiveness. A couple of us thought it bordered on ESP. She had the ability to reach for things even when she couldn’t see them. Case in point: why did a woman who was born in 1929, in a country that was only one percent Christian, decide that she wanted to become an organist, when she didn’t even know what an organ was?

Yuko’s father was a Japanese Anglican priest. He was the pastor of St. Andrew’s Church in Yokohama. At age five, Yuko started playing the reed organ at St. Andrew’s. (Soon enough, she became sufficiently proficient to play an entire Anglican service.) In sixth grade, her music teacher suggested she learn the piano. “Hanon: hated it. Czerny: a little better. Burgmüller: not as bad. But then, Bach Inventions! I became hooked on this music. I practiced all hours; I didn’t want to quit.”¹ She reasoned, “If Bach wrote pieces for the organ, then the organ must be a wonderful instrument.”² She knew that she wanted to play the organ, even before she had ever seen one! The only instruments she knew were the reed organ at church and a Hammond. In 2007 I asked her, “When you were young, how did you know you wanted to play the organ if you didn’t even know what an organ was?” She replied, “I knew when I met J. S. Bach.”³ In a 2009 email she wrote, “If I was not exposed to the two-part Inventions by Bach just by chance in my youth, I am positively sure that I [would] not [have been] drawn into music for so many decades since. Certainly, I would not have chosen organ as my main instrument.”⁴

Finally at age 15 she saw a pipe organ for the first time, in Tokyo. It was important to practice on a pipe organ, for she was preparing to audition for the Tokyo Ueno Conservatory (now named Tokyo University of the Arts). Imagine this 15-year-old girl, in 1944, with bombs falling around her, traveling two and a half hours to Tokyo to practice for two hours on this organ, then making the two and a half hour return trip home. (I recall that, in the 1980s, she told me that this organ was an Estey.⁵ However, other students remember her saying it was a Casavant.⁶)

She passed the audition and enrolled in the conservatory. Eight students had to share “a Yamaha and an electric-action pipe organ with a hideous sound. We each practiced for 50 minutes and then let the motor rest for ten minutes in between because it was old and cranky.”⁷ 

 

Study in America (1953–1960)

In the early 1950s, Yuko’s father urged her to visit America. She accepted a scholarship to attend Cottey College in Nevada, Missouri. The port of entry was faraway Seattle. The sea voyage from Yokohama to Seattle took 12 days. She arrived in Seattle on July 23, 1953. Tuition, room, and board were covered, but she had only thirty dollars in her pocket (which was all she was allowed). She stretched the thirty dollars as far as she could, though at least she had an Amtrak pass that enabled her to travel by train anywhere in the country.  

 

My father arranged a train trip for me around half of the country, visiting some of his friends. When I arrived in Seattle on July 23 [1953], his friend’s daughter, who was the secretary of St. Mark’s Cathedral, came to pick me up. Within two hours of setting foot on American soil, I played the organ at St. Mark’s. I think it was a Kilgen.⁸ I met Peter Hallock, and he gave me some of his compositions. From Seattle I went to San Francisco and stayed with my father’s friend there. I heard Richard Purvis play a recital in a museum, and I remember I kept looking around for the pipes, which were not visible. That was my second American organ experience. Next I stayed in Los Angeles for a few days. I didn’t see any organs there, but what I remember most was my first American picnic, a culturally foreign experience for me. Then I went to Salt Lake City, found the Mormon Tabernacle organ and went to two concerts in one day. Alexander Schreiner was there. Can you imagine? Next I visited my father’s friends in Minneapolis, and then the remainder of the summer stayed in a guesthouse at the University of Chicago. Finally, I arrived at Cottey College, and do you know what I found there? A Baldwin organ!⁹

 

After a year she was no longer able to stay at the school; however, she received a scholarship to go to any other school of her choice in America. Where would she go? She knew nothing about Oberlin or Eastman. Ultimately, her decision was influenced by having grown up by the sea.

 

At that school in Missouri, every Friday you know what we had to eat? Fish. That fish must have been dead for ten days by the time we had it. The fish was so fresh in Japan. So I knew I wanted to live near the sea. New York was too big. Washington, D.C., was too political. But Boston . . . .¹⁰

And so in 1954 she entered the New England Conservatory and studied organ with the legendary George Faxon.  

 

I spoke almost no English, and he didn’t say very much. So our lessons were filled with music but had long silences! One week he asked me to bring in the Vivaldi[/Bach] A-minor concerto. And I memorized it. I’d never memorized anything before. He didn’t say much. But you know what he did? He wrote on a piece of paper “Sowerby Pageant” and told me to go to Carl Fischer [Music Company] to pick up the music. When I got to the store and showed the man the piece of paper, he said, “Oh, you’re playing this?” I said, “Yes.” I had no idea what it was. Then when I opened the music! Incredibly difficult. At my next lesson Faxon wrote in the pedalings, very quickly, from beginning to end. What a technique he had. And you knew where he got it? Fernando Germani. Once Faxon took me to Brown University to see his teacher, Germani, play the Sowerby. I got to sit very close to him, so I could see Germani playing. And there he was, five-foot-three, his feet flying all over the pedalboard.¹¹

 

On February 6, 1956, Yuko played her bachelor’s recital in Jordan Hall, her first recital ever. In only three weeks Yuko memorized the daunting program, which included Vivaldi/Bach A-minor concerto (first movement), D’Aquin Noël X, Schumann Canon (probably B minor, op. 56, no. 5), Bach Toccata, Adagio, and Fugue, Liszt “Ad Nos” (second half), Sowerby Pageant, Titcomb Regina Caeli, Dupré Second Symphony (Intermezzo), and Messiaen L’Ascension (third movement).

In 1956, Faxon told Yuko, “This is still a secret, so you can’t tell anybody. But I’m leaving NEC and going to teach at B.U. [Boston University]” Yuko was disappointed at the news. “I wanted to follow him to B.U. I didn’t know anybody else. But he said, ‘No, don’t follow me. You studied with me two years—that’s enough. Stay at NEC.’ And then he said, ‘You must make Boston your home.’”¹²

Yuko was disheartened and considered returning to Japan. But Chester (“Chet”) Williams, beloved dean of NEC, would have none of it. Faxon’s imminent departure was still a secret. But Chet had another secret for Yuko: “There is another man coming, someone with great ideas.” That man was Donald Willing. On Chet’s advice, Yuko stayed at NEC.

Willing had been to Europe and was galvanized by the new tracker instruments being built. He immediately arranged for NEC to purchase new practice organs by Metzler and Rieger. The 1957 Metzler was voiced by Oscar Metzler himself.

 

As soon as I touched the instrument, I had an immediate reaction: “This is it! This is a living organism!” My teacher did not persuade me to have this reaction—I had it on my own, from touching the instrument myself. That was 1957. The next year, 1958, I got my M. M. from the conservatory. And that same year, the Flentrop was put in at Busch-Reisinger [now Adolphus Busch Hall]. That was Biggs’s instrument. He let all the students play it. We had to practice at night, when the museum was closed. And we were poor; we couldn’t afford to pay a security guard. So Peggy [Mrs. Biggs] would act as the guard. The Biggs’s were so generous to organ students.¹³

 

Not all the organ students were taken by these new instruments. “They would say, ‘Are you going backwards?’”¹⁴ Yuko was undeterred. She played her Artist Diploma recital on the Flentrop in 1960.

 

Leonhardt and Heiller (1960–1966)

In 1960, Yuko joined the faculty of the organ department of New England Conservatory. At this point she had not yet heard of Gustav Leonhardt.  

 

I first heard of Leonhardt from John
Fesperman. Before John went to the Smithsonian, he taught at the Conservatory. The organ faculty was Donald Willing, John
Fesperman, and I, who had just been hired. I don’t know why, but John had been to Holland already, and he said, “Leonhardt is coming; you should go study with him.” So I did. I used to go to Waltham [Massachusetts] to practice cembalo at the Harvard Shop, and once a week I went to New York to study with Leonhardt. He was young, late 20s. A whole summer [1960] I studied with him.¹⁵

 

Yuko so enjoyed her study with Leonhardt that she considered switching to harpsichord. Indirectly it was Leonhardt who dissuaded her.

 

Finally [Leonhardt] said, “You really should study organ with Anton Heiller.” And I thought, “Who is that?” So I bought records of Heiller. You know, the old LP records. [. . .] [I]t was grand playing. Already I noticed something.¹⁶

 

1962 marked Heiller’s first visit to America and his first ever trip on an airplane! He gave two all-Bach performances on the Flentrop at Harvard University. Yuko attended the first performance and was so impressed that she attended the second one as well.  

 

And you know the most wonderful thing he played? O Mensch . . . with the melody on the Principal . . . . The whole program swept me away. And I immediately said, “This is the man I want to study with.” But I was shy, so I didn’t go to him right away. [. . .] He used to come to America every three years. He had come in ’62, so in ’65 he came back, and he returned again in ’68, ’71, etc. So in ’65 he was teaching at Washington University in St. Louis. I went down there, and for the first time, I met him. [The course was] six-and-a-half weeks. Every morning, he gave four hours of classes. Bach, David, Reger, and Hindemith—on a Möller! Then, in the afternoon, private lessons on a 10-stop Walcker organ in a private studio.¹⁷

 

Heiller urged Yuko to enroll in the summer academy in Haarlem the following year (1961). This marked her very first visit to Europe. She went on to study with Heiller sporadically, following him wherever he happened to be playing. (She was the only Heiller student who didn’t study with him in Vienna.)

 

Maybe [Heiller] taught differently with other people, but with me, most of what I learned was from his playing, not from his words. [H]e played a lot [during lessons]. But I would move and he would sit on the bench. He didn’t just play over my shoulder. With him, nothing was halfway. [. . .] Funny thing: when he was just standing there, without doing anything, I played better. He felt the music inside him, and it came out. It was a weird thing. [. . .] I performed his organ concerto. Of course he wanted to hear it at a lesson. But I wasn’t ready. He only told me about it three weeks before. But again, he was standing right there. And it’s funny, I was able to play it. You see, he was so perfect, he made me feel I could play. [. . .] You know, I was so little—I’m still little. (laughter) And he was much bigger than me. But he said to me, “Don’t be afraid of the piece.”¹⁸

 

In 1969, Yuko became chair of the organ department of NEC. She remained until 2001, a total of 41 years on the faculty, 30 of which as chair.

First European tours (1968)

Yuko’s first concert in Europe was at the 1968 International Organ Festival in Haarlem. From there she went on to play many concerts on historic instruments in Austria, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, Holland, Italy, Spain, and Switzerland. “The wife of Hiroshi Tsuji, the Japanese organbuilder, arranged my first concert tour in Europe. [. . .] I soon discovered that I loved going to places where I didn’t know the people or the organs. I like to explore things I don’t know.”¹⁹ Here again we see Yuko’s fearlessness in reaching for things she could not see. As Nancy Granert reminisced, 

 

One time, Yuko and I were talking about traveling alone through Europe. I was saying that I always had a map in my purse, and that I really didn’t like being lost. She replied that she loved being lost and to find new places. She, after all, always knew where she was, right?²⁰

Old West Church (1974)

Charles Fisk built one of his most beautiful instruments, Opus 55, for Old West Church in Boston.²¹ It went on to become the main teaching instrument for the New England Conservatory organ department for decades. The organ was dedicated on Easter Sunday 1971 by Max Miller and Marian Ruhl Metson.

In 1973, Old West was conducting a search for a new organist. The organ committee consisted of the Rev. Dr. Richard Eslinger (pastor of Old West), Charles Fisk, Max Miller, and Jeanne Crowgey.²² Sneakily, but fortuitously, Eslinger and Fisk invited Yuko to attend a committee meeting in December 1973. After this meeting, they took Yuko across the street for a beer or two at a Chinese restaurant and lounge. Yuko enjoyed telling this story.

Charlie said, “Yuko, have you ever thought of becoming the organist for Old West Church?” These were absolutely unexpected words, and my answer was simply, “No.” Charlie kept a smile on his face and went on to tell me how convinced he was for me to be the organist of his organ at Old West, and that it was the right thing for me to do.

I was overwhelmed by his totally positive thoughts, and by the end of the conversation that evening I was convinced that Charlie was right and said “Yes” to him without knowing what the future would hold. [. . .] In February of 1974 I began to play for worship services (as a non-salaried organist), organized organ recitals for the season as well as the weekly lunchtime concerts that, after a decade, evolved into the Summer Evening Concerts.

As I look back [. . .] I say to myself, “How on the earth did Charlie know that I would be the appropriate one?” [. . . .] Charlie then knew that if I were caught by [the] beautiful sonorities that I could not leave them, would enjoy them, would maintain the instrument, and would let it be heard and played by all. [. . .] 

As I listened to organ students of the New England Conservatory day by day, year after year, and, of course, through my own practice, I became convinced that the 1971 Charles Fisk organ at Old West is a living organism and not just an organ with extraordinary beauty. This organ responds to the high demands of an artist as if a lively dialogue between two humans is being exchanged. I even dare say that the spirit of Charlie, an artist/organbuilder, is present when the organ is played by any organist who wishes to engage in conversation.²³

 

Yuko remained organist of Old West for 36 years. I was so fortunate to hear so many of her recitals there during the 1980s. I remember matchless performances of Bach’s Passacaglia, Franck’s Grand Pièce, and the Italian Baroque repertoire for which she had an incredible knack. (In fact, I never in my life heard a non-Italian play this music as well as she.²⁴) As late as 2008 (her last recital was in 2010), she gave a performance of Bach’s Pièce d’Orgue that to me remains the benchmark for all others. Few organists can play the middle gravement section without it sounding too long and too heavy. In Yuko’s hands, I was astonished by the articulation of each entrance of each of the five voices. I say without exaggeration that it sounded like a quintet of breathing musicians. I was so gripped by it that, when she got to the final section, I couldn’t believe how short the gravement had seemed.

 

As a teacher

Yuko made good use of her ESP. As a teacher, not only did she adapt to each individual student, but she adapted to each individual lesson with each student. Each lesson with her was a brand new experience—based solely on what she was sensing in the room at that moment. Besides her perceptiveness, she had something else: a regard for the value of each student. I can never forget something she told me many years later: “When you see a bud growing out of the ground, you’re not sure what it is yet, so you water it and feed it, and you wait to see what it grows into. But you don’t want to step on it.”²⁵ Her next sentence was even more unforgettable: “And if the bud is very small, all the more important not to step on it.” It would be hard to find a famous teacher with that level of regard for even the least talented among of her students.

Yuko’s ear was astonishing. She could have used that ear to be a critic or an adjudicator towards her students. Instead, she worked tirelessly to get them to use their own ear, to make their own decisions and judgments. In her gentle, quiet way (her voice never rose above a mezzo piano), she was relentless in making her students listen to the sound coming from the organ, in particular to be aware of the air going through the pipes. Most of all, she wanted her students to learn directly from the composer.

I will never forget playing Bach’s Allein Gott, BWV 664. The moment I stopped listening to one of the three voices, within milliseconds she started singing it. Then I would get back on track. Then, the millisecond that I stopped listening to another part, she would sing that one. That was how perceptive she was—which was both comforting and frightening! Another astonishing moment in our lessons that is worth mentioning is the one and only time I played Frescobaldi for her. In modern parlance, you could say that I was “schooled.” I was playing the Kyrie della Domenica from Fiori Musicali, which is in four voices. I played it and could tell from her facial expression that she was not pleased. She said one sentence: “You know, this music was originally written on four staves.” I played it again. This time, her face was even more displeased, and she said nothing at all. She sat down on the bench next to me and said, “OK, you play the alto and the bass, and I’ll play the soprano and the tenor.” I was floored. Her two voices breathed. They sang. She got up from the bench, without saying a word. Her point was made, and powerfully.

 

Later years

Yuko and I exchanged many emails in 2009. Many of them concerned administrative details of the Old West Organ Society (of which I was then a board member). However, more often the emails were simply about music.  

 

I remember when I first heard Mozart, in a castle outside Vienna, in [the] early 1970s. It was a big shock to me. While they were performing Mozart’s chamber music, I started to have the image about the leaves of the tree which show the front of the leaf and the back of the leaf, back and forth. Their colors are very different from each other, yet [the] only differences are front or back of the same leaf. It influenced the dynamic control as well in their performance at the castle.²⁶

 

During this era she always wrote to me as a friend and colleague, never as a “student.” Only once did she give something resembling “advice:”

 

I believe, there are only two emotions that stand out, “Love” and “Fear.” You have plenty of both, which in [an] actual sense make [a] great artist. Your potentiality is enormous! Don’t waste it, please! After all, it is the gift from God.²⁷

 

She was pleased, then, when not long after that email I became artistic director of organ concerts at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (home of two historic Holtkamps from 1955). In October, Yuko called me to congratulate me. She reminisced about Walter Holtkamp, Sr., whom she met in Cleveland.

 

He was a strong character, and rather difficult to get along with. Yet, we liked each other. Walter took me for dinner, and to his organ in the Episcopal Church in Cleveland, and I played the organ for him. He liked my playing because I played exactly as I believed.

That led to reminiscing about Melville Smith, who dedicated the larger Holtkamp in Kresge Auditorium. She even knew about Saarinen, the architect who designed both Kresge and the MIT Chapel. One thing led to another. She ended up telling me practically her whole life story. We spoke for four (!)
hours. She did almost all of the talking. There wasn’t a single dull moment. Every sentence was imbued with energy. She talked about growing up in Japan during the war, doing forced labor even as a teenager. She talked about her earliest musical experiences and about more recent organbuilding trends in Japan. She spoke at length about Marc Garnier, who built the monumental organ at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Center. She told story after story about Guy Bovet, Harald Vogel, Peter Williams, and Karel Paukert (in whose presence she set foot in Old West Church for the very first time). She told me about the time she was in France with Michel Chapuis, and she was playing a three-voice work, and Chapuis reached over and improvised a fourth voice over what she was playing. She spoke of Heiller (which she did in most every conversation I ever had with her). She even spoke of events and feelings in her personal life. It is safe to say that it was one of the most extraordinary phone conversations that I have ever had, with anyone. The next time I saw her, in 2010, she showed signs of memory loss. Clearly this was Yuko’s instinct at work, once again: she knew that in that phone conversation in 2009, she needed to tell me her life’s story.

At the 2014 AGO national convention in Boston, there was a workshop entitled “The Organ as Teacher: The Legacy of Performance Pedagogy at Old West Church,” moderated by Margaret Angelini, with Barbara Bruns, Susan Ferré, and Anne Labounsky. Indirectly it was an event honoring Yuko. (Had it been entitled “An Event in Honor of Yuko Hayashi,” she would have strongly objected.) It was hard for Yuko’s friends to see her in this state of diminished powers—at times aware of what was going on, at other times not so much. But then came a moment, after the workshop, when Yuko was standing, chatting with Ferré and Labounsky. All of a sudden she looked at them, pointed to me, and told them, “He’s a wonderful musician.” For me, that was the equivalent of a New York Times review. I have sought no other musical validation since that moment.

Last summer Yuko’s health declined. In September I learned that her condition was so grave that her family in Japan were contacted. Her 88th birthday was to be on November 2, followed eight days later by a celebratory concert at Old West, featuring some of her greatest former students. None of us thought she was going to live until the concert—we expected it to be a memorial service. Each day I checked my iPhone compulsively, not wanting to miss the terrible news. But the news didn’t come. Now it was November 10, the night of the gala concert. Apparently she was still with us—I had not heard otherwise. I arrived at Old West on that bitter cold night. I walked out of the cold into the warm church, and I heard people saying that Yuko was there! At Old West! I didn’t fully believe it. I looked around, and then I saw it: the back of a wheelchair. I raced over, and there she was. Her eyes were as alert as I had ever seen them. This isn’t possible! How did they even get her there, on that bitter cold evening? But Barbara Bruns made it happen. Yuko took my hand in hers and kept rubbing it, looking me straight in the eye the whole time. Not a word was said.  

The entire evening Yuko had that same alertness in her eyes, start to finish. Being at Old West, among her students and friends, hearing Charles Fisk’s beloved Opus 55—the energy from all of it must have thrilled her.

A few months passed. For Epiphany weekend, January 6 and 7, 2018, as a prelude at all of my Masses, I played Bach’s Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern, BWV 739—the very first piece at Peter Williams’s life-changing recital at Old West so many years ago, the night I met Yuko Hayashi. Eerily, but not surprisingly, only three and a half hours after my last Mass, Yuko Hayashi left this world.

 

Notes

1. Phone conversation with the author,  July 25, 2007.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid. 

4. Email to the author, October 19, 2009.

5. 1918 Estey (Opus 1598) at Rikkyo (St. Paul’s) University, Tokyo. Replaced by Beckerath in 1984.

6. 1927 Casavant (Opus 1208) at Holy Trinity Church, Tokyo. Church and organ were destroyed by a firebomb in 1945.

7. Diane Luchese, “A conversation with Yuko Hayashi,” The American Organist, September 2010, p. 57. 

8. It was a ca. 1902 Kimball (not Kilgen), with tubular-pneumatic action.

9. Luchese, op. cit., p. 57f.

10. Phone conversation with the author, July 25, 2007.

11. Ibid. 

12. Ibid.

13. Ibid.

14. Ibid.

15. From an unpublished interview between Yuko and the author, which took place in Boston on February 17, 2004. 

16. Ibid.

17. Ibid.

18. Ibid.

19. Luchese, op. cit., p. 60. 

20. Conversation with Nancy Granert, January 11, 2018.

21. Seven years previous, and 500 meters down the road, Fisk had installed his Opus 44 at King’s Chapel, the first modern American three-manual tracker organ built in the second half of the twentieth century. The organ was a gift of Amelia Peabody. Thanks to the friendship between the pastors of Old West (Dr. Wilbur C. Ziegler) and King’s Chapel (Dr. Joseph Barth), Amelia Peabody gave a grant to Old West for their new organ. The choice of Fisk was endorsed by the organists of both King’s Chapel (Daniel Pinkham) and Old West (James Busby), as well as E. Power Biggs.

22. Jeanne Crowgey was a member of Old West from 1972 to 1980. She was also an organist, who served unofficially as an interim before the selection of Yuko Hayashi. Crowgey went on to be Yuko’s invaluable assistant during the first six years of the Old West Organ Society. Crowgey did a large amount of the administrative work for the international series, the summer series, and the weekly noontime concert series. She was one of the last friends to visit Yuko before her passing.

23. From a reminiscence written by Yuko in 2004 and posted on the C. B. Fisk website (edited by L. C.).

24. Once in the 1960s she played a recital at the Piaristenkirche in Vienna, which included a piece by Frescobaldi. Heiller was in attendance and raved about how she played the Frescobaldi, a composer she had never studied with him (phone conversation with the author, year unknown).

25. Phone conversation with the author, year unknown.

26. Email to the author, June 10, 2009.

27. Email to the author, September 2, 2009.

William P. “Bill” Brown died February 2 at his home in Phoenix, Arizona. Born in Battle Creek in 1925 and raised in Columbus, he attended New Mexico Military Institute for high school and college, where he was known as “WP,” and went to Japan with the Army during World War II. Upon his return, he took his MBA at Wharton, then began a career in real estate development. Over the years, he served on the Phoenix Planning Commission, held many offices for the Downtown YMCA and Midtown Rotary, and was active in the Phoenix Ski Club and NMMI and UPenn alumni groups.
Brown may best be known as the owner of the Organ Stop Pizza restaurants, and was an accomplished pianist and theatre organist in his own right. With his restaurants, he entertained vast numbers of people, brought the theatre organ and its music into the vernacular, launched the careers of many artists, and inspired and helped others to create similar restaurants across the country. He was a leader and active participant in all the major theatre organ organizations and also supported the installation of dozens of organs in the valley and across the country, including Phoenix’s Orpheum Theatre. Memorial services were held at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, Phoenix, February 10. He is survived by his two sons, daughter, and five grandchildren.

Michael Fleming died January 10 in Surrey, England. Former Warden of the Royal School of Church Music, he was director of music at St. Alban’s, Holborn 1980–98, and had served at several well-known London churches.
Fleming was born April 8, 1928 in Oxford, where his father, Guy Fleming, was curate at the Anglo-Catholic St. Mary Magdalen’s. His grandfather, Arthur Fleming, was Precentor of Gloucester Cathedral and headmaster of the cathedral school. Michael Fleming started organ lessons at age 12 at St. Austell in Cornwall. After National Service he studied music at Durham University, was organist of St. Oswald’s, and had organ lessons with Francis Jackson. Fleming served as organist and choirmaster at St. Giles, Cambridge, and continued organ lessons with George Guest. During his two years as organist of Chingford Church in Essex, he studied with Harold Darke. In 1958 he was appointed director of music at All Saints Margaret Street in London, where he taught in its choir school. A decade later, he moved to Croydon Parish Church and became a full-time tutor at nearby Addington Palace, then home of the Royal School of Church Music. Ten years later, he moved to St. Mary’s, Primrose Hill. In 1980, Fleming was apppointed director of music at St. Alban’s, Holborn.
After retirement from the RSCM in 1993, he continued on the governing bodies of both the English Hymnal Company and the Church Music Society. In 1998, he left Holborn to become director of music at St Michael’s in Croydon. His numerous arrangements for hymns include settings with trumpets and drums. In 1999 he was awarded an MA Lambeth degree “in recognition of his contribution to church music and liturgy.”

Hiroshi Tsuji, Japan’s pioneer organbuilder, passed away on December 22, 2005, at the age of 72, in Shirakawa. He is survived by his wife, Toshiko, a daughter, Megumi Wolter, who presently lives in Berlin, Germany, and three grandchildren. Born in Aichi-ken in 1933, Tsuji showed an early interest in music, and later attended Geijutsu Daigaku (“Gei Dai”) music school in Tokyo, studying organ and graduating in 1958. While there he realized that tinkering with the school’s old organ interested him as much as playing it, and shortly afterward came to the United States, where he apprenticed with the Schlicker Organ Co. in Buffalo 1960–1963. He then went to Holland, where he apprenticed for another year with D. A. Flentrop, studied some of the historic organs, and became convinced of the importance of classical voicing and tracker action.
Returning to Japan in 1964, he established a small workshop in a Tokyo suburb, where he built a few small organs in the “neo-classic” style. Although in this period organs were already being imported to Japan, mostly from Germany, Tsuji was the first native Japanese craftsman to engage full-time in organ-building. In 1971 he returned briefly to Europe to continue his study of historic organs, and shortly afterward moved to the mountain town of Shirakawa, where he established a workshop in a spacious former schoolhouse. By this time he was securing some larger contracts and had several people working for him, some of whom later established workshops of their own.
Tsuji early made a commitment to basing his instruments on historic European models, at first only in the North German style. Later, in the early 1980s, encouraged by Umberto Pineschi and Yuko Hayashi, he went to Italy and became intrigued with the sound of historic organs in Tuscany. In 1982 he restored a small organ of 1762 in Pistoia, and also made a replica of it, which was displayed at the Boston Early Music Festival and is now in Canada. Another replica, of a larger 1755 organ by the Pistoian builder Tronci, was later built for a museum in Gifu, Japan. In 1984 he restored the 1745 Tronci organ in the church of San Filippo in Pistoia, for which he was made an honorary citizen of the city. One of the Italian-style organs that Tsuji had built he kept in his workshop, and at his suggestion the town of Shirakawa has for the past 20 years sponsored an annual Academy of Italian Organ Music there, which has brought several distinguished teachers to Japan. One of the results of this collaboration is that Shirakawa and Pistoia have become “sister cities,” participating in cultural exchange.
While several subsequent organs continued to reflect the North German style, by the late 1980s and early 1990s Tsuji was building some larger organs based on 18th-century Italian principles, culminating in his last instrument for the Community Hall in his home town of Shirakawa, completed in 2005. In this period too he spent some time in Spain, where he restored the historic Renaissance organ in Salamanca Cathedral, a large one-manual instrument. In 1994 he built a sizable organ in the Spanish style for Salamanca Hall in Gifu, the third manual of which is tonally a replica of the Salamanca Cathedral organ. However, most subsequent Tsuji organs were in either the German or the Italian style. Because most Christian churches in Japan are quite small, many of the organs built for them by Tsuji were likewise small, some with only three or four stops and either a coupled pedal or no pedal at all. Some of his larger church organs included those in the Tokyo Lutheran Center (II/15, 1972), St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Tokyo (II/22, 1976), the chapel of the Salesian Boys Home (II/16, 1989), and the Protestant Church in Kobe (II/24, 2001). Most of Tsuji’s larger organs were built for schools and concert halls. These included the Tamagawa School (II/18, 1978), Nagoya Gakuin University (II/14, 1984), Seinann Gakuin University (III/33, 1987), Salamanca Hall, Gifu (III/45, 1994/9), Aoyama Gakuin, Shibuya (II/14, 1994), and Community Hall, Shirakawa (II/21, 2005). Tsuji also made a number of small residence and practice organs, contributing to a total number of 81 organs built between 1964 and 2005. The workmanship of Tsuji’s instruments, regardless of size, was impeccable, the sound refined and balanced, and the casework well-proportioned and of handsome classical design. It is to be regretted that the only examples of his work to be exported to the American continent are a small house organ and a 3-stop continuo organ, both in Canada. —Barbara Owen

Grady W. Wilson, a longtime resident of Columbus, Ohio, formerly of New York City, died January 15 at Dublin Retirement Village. He was 75. Born July 16, 1930, Wilson received his bachelor’s degree from the University of Alabama, Master of Music from Florida State University, and Doctor of Musical Arts in organ from the University of Michigan. Dr. Wilson retired as professor of music at the State College of Jersey City (now Jersey City University) in 1993. He most recently served as organist at Trinity United Methodist Church in Marble Cliff, having previously served churches in New York and New Jersey. Wilson performed as a pianist and organist, both as soloist and with his identical twin brother, the late Dr. Gordon Wilson. The Wilson brothers toured the United States and Europe performing original duets for organ (two performers at one console), releasing a recording of these works in 1977. A memorial service was held February 2 at Trinity United Methodist Church, Columbus, Ohio.

Richard Hillert died February 18. He was Distinguished Professor of Music Emeritus at Concordia University Chicago, River Forest, Illinois, and was best known for his work as a composer and composition teacher. One of his most noted works is Worthy Is Christ, of which “This is the Feast of Victory” has been widely published in various worship books.
Hillert received his bachelor’s degree in education from Concordia, and master’s and doctoral degrees in composition from Northwestern University. He also studied composition with Italian composer Goffredo Petrassi. Hillert taught at Concordia from 1959 to 2003. He edited eleven volumes of the Concordia Hymn Prelude Series and was associate editor of the journal Church Music (1966–80).
Hillert’s compositions and publications include liturgical music for congregation, choral motets, hymns and hymn anthems, psalm settings and organ works, concertatos, and cantatas, including settings of The Christmas Story According to Saint Luke and The Passion According to Saint John. Richard Hillert is survived by his wife Gloria Bonnin Hillert, and children Kathryn Brewer, Virginia Hillert, and Jonathan Hillert.

Rev. Richard D. Howell died January 26 in Dallas, Texas. Born June 24, 1932 in Great Bend, Kansas, he earned a master of sacred music degree from Southern Methodist University, and was ordained a deacon in the United Methodist Church. He started playing for church services at age 13, and went on to serve numerous United Methodist congregations in Texas and taught elementary music for the Richardson and Dallas school districts. He played for children’s, youth, and adult choirs and directed handbell choirs, serving as the chairman of the Dallas Handbell Festival. He was active in many organizations, including the American Guild of Organists, Choristers Guild, and the Fellowship of United Methodist Musicians. Richard D. Howell is survived by his wife of 52 years, Bradley Sue Howell, children Mark and Teri Howell, Celeste and Martin Hlavenka, and Jane Walker, along with grandchildren, sisters-in-law, and numerous nieces and nephews.

Richard Proulx died February 18 at age 72. From 1980 to 1994, he was organist–music director at the Cathedral of the Holy Name in Chicago, where he was also responsible for the planning and installation of two new mechanical-action organs for the cathedral: Casavant II/19 (Quebec, 1981) and Flentrop IV/71 (Holland, 1989). Before coming to Chicago, he served at St. Thomas Church, Medina/Seattle (1970–1980), and was organist at Temple de Hirsch Sinai. Previous positions included St. Charles Parish, Tacoma; St. Stephen’s Church, Seattle; and 15 years (1953–1968) at the Church of the Holy Childhood in St. Paul.
A native of St. Paul, Minnesota, he attended MacPhail College and the University of Minnesota, with further studies undertaken at the American Boychoir School at Princeton, St. John’s Abbey, Collegeville, and the Royal School of Church Music in England. He studied organ with Ruth Dindorf, Arthur Jennings, Rupert Sircom, Gerald Bales, and Peter Hallock; choral conducting with Bruce Larsen, Donald Brost, and Peter Hallock; composition with Leopold Bruenner, Theodore Ganshaw, Bruce Larsen, and Gerald Bales.
Proulx was a widely published composer of more than 300 works, including congregational music, sacred and secular choral works, song cycles, two operas, and instrumental and organ music. He served as consultant for The Hymnal 1982, the New Yale Hymnal, the Methodist Hymnal, Worship II and III, and contributed to the Mennonite Hymnal and the Presbyterian Hymnal.

Phyllis J. Stringham, of Waukesha, Wisconsin, died February 12 at the age of 79. Born January 30, 1931 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, she earned her Bachelor of Arts degree from Calvin College and a Master of Music degree in organ performance at the University of Michigan. Her organ teachers included John Hamersma, Robert Noehren, and Marilyn Mason. She pursued additional study at the American Conservatory in Fontainebleau, France, studying with Nadia Boulanger and André Marchal. In 1966 she studied with Marie-Claire Alain and Anton Heiller at the Summer Academy for Organists in Haarlem, Holland. While on sabbatical leave in 1972, she spent five months studying at the Hochschule für Musik in Vienna, Austria. Further study was done at the Eastman School of Music with Russell Saunders, and with Delbert Disselhorst at the University of Iowa.
For 43 years, Stringham was Professor of Music and College Organist at Carroll University, Waukesha, Wisconsin (1959–2002). After retirement from teaching, she retained her position as College Organist and Curator of the Organ. In 2007 she was named Organist Emeritus. Her earlier teaching career began at Chatham Hall, an Episcopal school in Virginia. She is listed in Who’s Who in the World of Music. From the late 1960s to 2007 she operated the Phyllis Stringham Concert Management agency. She served the AGO as dean of the Milwaukee chapter and as Wisconsin State Chair.
Phyllis Stringham is survived by her brother James A. (Gladys), nephews, many grandnephews, nieces, other relatives and friends. A memorial service was held February 18 at St. Luke’s Lutheran Church, Waukesha.

Gail Walton, director of music at the University of Notre Dame’s Basilica of the Sacred Heart, died February 24 in Indianapolis after a long illness. She was 55 years old. Dr. Walton had served as director of music in the Basilica since 1988, directing the Notre Dame Liturgical Choir as well as the Basilica Schola, which she founded in 1989. She held degrees from Westminster Choir College and the Eastman School of Music, where she earned the doctor of musical arts degree in organ performance, and was awarded the performer’s certificate. Before joining the basilica staff, she taught organ at Goshen College.
Gail Walton performed throughout the midwestern United States and played concerts in the German cities of Bonn, Heidenheim, Mainz, and Rottenburg/Neckar in the summer of 1991. In the summer of 1995, she took the Notre Dame Liturgical Choir on a tour of Italy, giving performances in Florence, Milan, Assisi, and Rome. She frequently played duo recitals with her husband, organist and Notre Dame music professor Craig Cramer.

Allan Wicks, a leading cathedral organist of his generation, died February 4 at age 86. He played a crucial role during the 1950s and 60s in bringing modern works by Messiaen, Maxwell Davies, Stravinsky, and Britten into the regular cathedral repertory. Born in Harden, Yorkshire, on June 6, 1923, the son of a clergyman, Wicks became organ scholar at Christ Church, Oxford in 1942, where he studied under Thomas Armstrong. He became sub-organist at York Minster in 1947, then in 1954 organist and master of the choristers of Manchester Cathedral. During his time there, he oversaw the rebuilding of the war-damaged organ, and championed the music of Peter Maxwell Davies and Malcolm Williamson. He also regularly conducted Stravinsky’s Canticum Sacrum.
In 1961 he was appointed organist and master of the choristers of Canterbury Cathedral, a post he held until 1988.There he regularly performed music by such composers as Messiaen, Ligeti, Tippett, Lennox Berkeley, and Alan Ridout. Wicks made several recordings, released on LP but yet to be issued on CD, of works by Alan Ridout, Messiaen (notably La nativité du Seigneur), Bach, Mendelssohn, Liszt, Franck, Widor, Alain and Reger. Wicks retired from Canterbury in 1988, having served under three archbishops and taught several generations of choristers.

St. Paul’s Church in Brookline, Massachusetts, March 8–12, 2004

Leonardo Ciampa

Leonardo Ciampa is Director of Music at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Brookline, Massachusetts. He is an organist, pianist, composer, and author.

Sunday, 22 February 2004

Dear Mr. Ciampa,

I really appreciate your efforts to mark the 25th anniversary of my father Anton Heiller’s death on 25th March this year. Thank you also for inviting me to contribute a few words to the programme, and I am of course delighted to do so.

The various upcoming events will honour this special musician both in his musical output and in his humanity.

It is especially lovely for me that Anton Heiller’s music is still meaningful to people today and capable of moving them deeply. It is in my estimation a sign of particular validity if sacred music of the 20th century is able to evoke intense sensations in today’s listeners: Heiller had an extremely warm character--as an organ teacher, artist and as well as a human being. He wrote formally assured, expressive and inimitable music, which is born out of a great empathy with, and love for, his fellow man. At the same time his music always has an explicit spiritual purpose: Heiller put the letters S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria) under every single one of his works, demonstrating his gratitude and humble awareness of the great gift that had been bestowed on him. He adopted this expression of sincere thanks from his great role model J.S. Bach, whose genius and unerring faith determined Heiller’s life.

It is a great joy for me to know that, so many years after my father’s death, his music is still alive, and meaningful. Time and again it meets with deep resonance with audiences, and it is disseminated by his former students and their pupils, as is the case in this five-day HeillerFest in Boston.

Anton Heiller died at the early age of 55, but his musical output lives on in countless recordings. The inherent power and beauty of his unique compositional style is evident in the growing appreciation of his music, and the fact that so many new audiences are drawn to it. I want to take this occasion to thank all those who have contributed to the dissemination of his work, be it as teacher, organiser of concerts or performer.

I wish you and all those involved in the HeillerFest every success and especially a warm reception by your patrons.

With thanks, and greetings from Vienna,

Dr. Bernhard Heiller

 

In 1986 I was a fifteen-year-old piano student in the New England Conservatory Preparatory School. My well-meaning parents and teachers thought I should have the best teacher money could buy, so I was assigned the most famous piano teacher and groomed for the piano competition highway. One day I announced that I was quitting the piano and taking up the organ. What happened next is a miracle at which I continue to marvel. At NEC there was only one organ teacher who taught pre-college organists, so by default that’s whom I was sent to. That teacher’s name was Yuko Hayashi. Among her numerous teachers, there was only one whom she clearly worshipped. His name was Anton Heiller. Yuko doesn’t advocate listening to recordings, yet she said to me, “Never imitate anyone--except Heiller.”

Fifteen years later I read an interesting article on improvisation by Christa Rakich. I e-mailed her, and we decided to try a few improvisation lessons. Soon she became a treasured mentor and friend. During one lesson I started talking about Heiller, and discovered that Christa had studied with Heiller.

For both women, Heiller was the one and only god. I cannot express the debt I felt I owed this great man. An opportunity to repay my debt arose when I learned that both Peter Planyavsky and Massimo Nosetti, two of the finest organists of their respective countries, were both going to be in the United States in early March, 2004. It meant celebrating the Heiller anniversary a few weeks early, but nonetheless I jumped at the opportunity to lure these two great artists to the Boston area. It was especially crucial to get Planyavsky, who is acknowledged (even by the Heiller family) as Heiller’s most important disciple.

Christa Rakich agreed to play a Bach recital in conjunction with her “Tuesdays with Sebastian” series, thus cross-publicizing the two projects. Equally enthusiastic was Stephen Roberts, a Heillerian whom I knew electronically but not personally. Given his reputation, kindness, and proximity within driving distance of Boston, I knew I needed to enlist him.

I did not, for one moment, intend for this little festival to be THE Heiller Festival; I planned it with the full assumption that other cities would sponsor much grander fests with much larger budgets. It was impractical, for instance, to feature many of Heiller’s compositions (though composing was only one aspect of Heiller’s multifaceted career). Still, I owed Heiller a debt, and I was going to repay it with my own personal resources and in my own way.

Monday

 

Choral Evensong

with Peter Planyavsky and the St. Paul’s Choir

There are two types of performers: those who emit electricity, intensity, and sometime neurosis, for whom every piece seems a matter of life or death (Caruso, Horowitz, Heifetz); and those who exude mental and physical health, for whom each piece feels like the first of many encores (Gigli, Rubinstein, Kreisler). Peter Planyavsky is of the second type. The 75-minute Evensong service seemed short. One felt that another twenty-five improvisations could have fallen from his sleeve without any detectible effort.

There is something Beethovenian about Planyavsky, a certain Viennese ruggedness. It snowed as we walked down St. Paul Street together, yet he seemed unconcerned about his photocopied prelude and postlude which he held, uncovered, under his arm. “In Vienna I always walk around like this,” he explained. He spent not much more than an hour at the Bozeman organ, an eclectic instrument on which the stopnames are on plaques next to the stopknobs. I myself occasionally pull the wrong stop! Not only did he never do that, but he had a total comprehension of the organ’s tonal resources, as if he already knew how every combination would or wouldn’t work.

I knew firsthand of Planyavsky’s brilliance as a liturgical improviser, and I designed the Evensong around it. No trite compline hymns for him; I chose Aus tiefer Not and O Welt, ich muß dich lassen. And while the prayerbook rubric permits a “moment of silence” before the Mag and the Nunc, respectively, I translated “moment of silence” as “three-to-five-minute organ improvisation.” The individual improvisations complemented and contrasted each other: the simple effectiveness of his bicinium on Le Cantique de Siméon; the color and fluid virtuosity of his Magnificat; the rich, impenitently German-Romantic O Welt; and so on. Each improvisation seemed to enhance the others.

Boston is predominantly an Early Music town. The St. Paul’s Choir, a mixture of professionals and volunteers, gravitates towards Romantic repertoire. We do little Bach and nothing modern. What, then, would I choose for an anthem for the Evensong? The two most obvious composer choices--Bach and Heiller--were immediately eliminated. (The four section leaders did sing Heiller’s O Jesu, all mein Leben for the Introit.) After weeks of dilemma, the idea came to me: “Behold God the Lord passed by,” from Mendelssohn’s Elijah. In the “tempest” of America’s classical music industry, amidst all the “mighty winds,” “earthquakes,” and “fire,” Heiller was that “still, small voice.”

Tuesday

 

Masterclass with Peter Planyavsky

The organ world is susceptible to fads. This wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact that the partakers of the fad don’t realize that it’s only a fad. Theirs is the way of “truth;” all that came before was unenlightened and uninformed. Then fifteen years pass and a new fad with “new truths” comes along. What about the proselytes of the old fad? Oh, they were unenlightened and uninformed.

Planyavsky discussed this problem briefly but eloquently. He compared the passing trends, both in organbuilding and organ playing, in a humorous but devastatingly accurate way. What will organbuilders’ and organists’ next trend or fad be? Planyavsky left the question unanswered, in favor of a much more interesting topic: MUSIC! Rather than seek truth in ephemeral fads, he finds it in the music itself. In this respect he is very much Heiller’s student.

“Bach was young! The Duke was young! They were having fun!” Thus Planyavsky pinpointed the meaning behind the Bach/Ernst Concerto in G, which was played in dazzling fashion by the 16-year-old Wunderkind, Jacob Street, a longtime student of John Skelton. Planyavsky hasn’t time for pretension; he’d rather spend his energy calmly pointing to the heart of the music.

The other three students’ playing was equally fine. Two Rakich students, Jason Cloen and Ed Broms, offered excerpts from the Clavierübung. And Nobuko Ochiai, a student of Peter Sykes, amazed us with Heiller’s fiendish Tanz-Toccate. Even Planyavsky seemed impressed that she carried it off on a two-manual tracker with no pistons!

The masterclass was followed by an elegant reception, organized by the church folk. Those expecting the ubiquitous chips and dip were treated to curried chicken and other delicacies, washed down with wine and Sam Adams Winter Lager. In attendance were all five of the HeillerFest performers, as well as several Heiller students (notably John & Carolyn Skelton and Yuko Hayashi).

Wednesday

 

Recital by Stephen Roberts

Stephen Roberts is one of nature’s gentlemen. Even if he weren’t, he would still be one of the finest organists and organ pedagogues in America. Were it not for the encouragement, advice, and insightful humor contained in months of voluminous e-mail correspondence, I could not have pulled off the HeillerFest.

No adjective weaker than formidable is appropriate to describe Stephen Roberts as an organ recitalist. He is a strong technician who rarely drops a note, yet not a phrase lacks style or musicality. I was humbled by Roberts’ preparedness. His copiously marked scores revealed that every nut and bolt had been taken apart and put back together again. Yet the concert sounded fresh and spontaneous, as if he were playing for a friend.

The highlight of the recital was Roberts’ interpretation of Heiller’s Ecce lignum crucis, a work that he studied thoroughly with the composer. (Roberts played from a score that bore the composer’s signature at the bottom.)

Thursday

 

Lecture/Concert

by Massimo Nosetti: “Heiller: His Influence in Italy”

At age 44, Massimo Nosetti is one of the most revered organists in Italy, and the four-manual Zanin organ (1990) which he designed for the Basilica di Santa Rita in Turin is considered one of Italy’s finest. Nosetti is everything you’d expect from a Northern Italian male: not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in his impeccably tailored suit, and his charm makes one feel like a close friend.

Like Stephen Roberts, Nosetti has an impressive command of organ technique and registration. Yet the two recitals could not have been more different. Nosetti is the embodiment of Italian musicmaking: the wide palette of color, the intrinsic lyricism, the unerring timing, the omnipresent life and charm, the emotional sincerity--all the traits that one expected from a great Italian singer or violinist during the Belle Époque. In an era when the most famous classical superstars have the least ethnic identity in their playing, it was gift to be able to hear an all-Italian program, played by an all-Italian musician.

Nosetti’s well-paced and informative talk was conducted in English--a language in which Nosetti told me he is self-taught--quite incredible, given his wide vocabulary and total comprehension. (It helps that he is categorically fluent in Italian, French, German, and apparently Spanish as well.) Both recital and talk traced the history of Italian organ music “from the harpsichord style of the 18th century, to the operatic style of the 19th century, to the Neoclassic style of the 20th century.” Naturally, he covered 20th-century organ playing and discussed those two great pioneers, Bossi and Germani. But what was surprising was the extent to which Heiller’s Italian reputation rivalled even that of Germani. The “Holy Trinity of Haarlem”--Heiller, Marie-Claire Alain, and Luigi Tagliavini--was venerated also in Italy, it seems. In addition, it turns out that Heiller spoke very decent Italian and conducted masterclasses in that language.

Friday

 

All-Bach Recital by Christa Rakich

That Christa Rakich was a Heiller student is always apparent, both in her Teutonic playing and in her devotion to J. S. Bach. Rakich’s all-Bach recital was presented in conjunction with “Tuesdays with Sebastian,” a project in which she and Peter Sykes are playing all of the keyboard works in thirty-six concerts over three years, on organ, harpsichord, and clavichord. As a point of trivia, there is only one work that will have been repeated: the Passacaglia. I all but begged her to end the HeillerFest with it. I just couldn’t imagine fnishing off the week with any other masterpiece.

No one who knows Christa Rakich was surprised by the masterful handling of the entire recital. Several of us remarked at how “easy” the Trio Sonata in C sounded. And the playing of the Passacaglia had at least one trait in common with Heiller’s: the entire work felt like one uninterrupted crescendo, from beginning to end.                       n

James David Christie, David Craighead, Thomas F. Froehlich, John Grew, Stephen Hamilton,

Recitalist, teacher and recording artist, Marie-Claire Alain is one of the leading personalities in the world of organ music. Born into a family of musicians at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, she studied music at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Paris, where she won four first prizes, soon followed by several awards in international competitions.
Marie-Claire Alain’s concert tours have led her throughout the world, including numerous trips to the United States and Canada since 1961. Critics praise the clarity of her playing, the musicality of her interpretations, the purity of her style, and her mastery of registration.
Greatly sought after as a teacher and justly famous for her lectures illustrated with musical examples, Marie-Claire Alain bases her teaching on extensive, unrelenting musicological studies in organ literature and performance practices of early music. After teaching for sixteen summers in Haarlem, The Netherlands (1956–1972), she now holds a workshop every summer in Romainmôtier, Switzerland, where the house organ from her family home in France is located. She taught for many years at the Conservatoire National de Region de Rueil-Malmaison, followed by several years at the Conservatoire Supérieur de Paris. Her discography is impressive, containing over 220 recordings, including the famous “integrales” or complete works (J. S. Bach, Couperin, de Grigny, Daquin, Franck, Handel, J. Alain, etc.), which have won her numerous Grands Prix du Disque in France and abroad. In addition, an educational DVD featuring Mme. Alain was produced by the American Guild of Organists in 2002. Marie-Claire Alain has received honorary doctorates from Colorado State University (Fort Collins), Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas, The Boston Conservatory of Music, McGill University, Montréal, Canada, and most recently in 2006 from the Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland. In 1984, she was named International Performer of the Year by the New York City AGO chapter, and in 1999 was given the AGO Lifetime Achievement Award. In France, she was awarded the degree “Commandeur des Arts et Lettres.”
As an outgrowth of her great interest in the pipe organs of her own country, Mme. Alain serves on a commission of the French government for the promotion and construction of new pipe organs in France. Classic CD magazine named her one of “The Greatest Players of the Century” in 2001 in a list that included the entire classical music world. For many years, she has been an adjudicator at organ competitions all over the world. In 1999 she was president of the jury of Concours Suisse de l’orgue, and on several occasions she has presided over the juries of the Concours International de Chartres and of the Musashino International Competition in Tokyo.
—Stephen Hamilton
 

•

In 1965, a brilliant young student of Arthur Poister, Byron L. Blackmore, moved to my hometown of La Crosse, Wisconsin, to assume the city’s only full-time church position. I had the privilege of being his first organ student at the age of 13, and it was Byron who introduced me to the artistry of Marie-Claire Alain. He had me purchase her recordings of de Grigny, Couperin, Bach, Handel and Jehan Alain, and from these recordings my life completely changed. I immediately fell in love with her incredible musicianship, her extraordinary attention to detail, touch, ornamentation, breath, style and, above all, music-making, and I knew I wanted one day to be her student.
I met Marie-Claire for the first time at a concert she performed in Rochester, Minnesota, when I was 14 years old. She made a very ordinary electric-action organ come alive. Following the concert, we spoke at the reception in French, and she patiently coached our conversation along, helping me with my first year “command” of the language. She was so kind, warm and encouraging. She gave me her home address in L’Etang-la-Ville and told me to keep in touch. I couldn’t believe such a great artist would be so kind and take so much time with a young student. Many years later, I realized I was the same age as her only son, Benoit. She has always had a loving maternal relationship with all of her students.
Throughout my high school and early undergraduate years, I followed her around the country for masterclasses and concerts. The most memorable was her week-long seminar at Fort Collins, Colorado, in 1971. It was amazing to see her deal with so many diverse students. She had an uncanny way of meeting every student where they were and helping them change by opening their ears and minds. She received her first honorary doctorate on this occasion and, twenty years later, I had the honor of placing a doctoral hood over her head as Chair of the Organ and Harpsichord Department at the Boston Conservatory. After my junior year at Oberlin, I decided to take a year off and go to Paris to study privately with Marie-Claire. We worked mainly on classical French works, Buxtehude, and Jehan Alain. Her attention to detail, her pleas to always listen to the music, and her insistence that the organ itself was one’s best teacher changed my approach to performing and certainly influenced me greatly in my own teaching. As I was particularly interested in Buxtehude, she encouraged me to go to North Germany and play the historic organs, which I did. Because of this, I devoted the next ten years of my life to an intensive study of Buxtehude and the North German masters of the 17th century.
Marie-Claire Alain taught all her students to question, to be stylish, eclectic, open, inquisitive, ready to do research, always prepared to learn and change one’s mind, and to live as a 20th-century musician. She stressed the importance of knowing, studying and performing music of our entire heritage and to be “diversified” (she was using this term years before investment companies did!). Her performances of music including the complete classical French masters, Muffat, Bruhns, Bach, Franck, Liszt, Widor, Jehan Alain, Duruflé, Messiaen and Charles Chaynes were all equally thrilling.
The most moving day of my life was in Paris in January, 1995, when Marie-Claire invited me to move from “vous” to “tu”—but it never feels right when I do this. The respect I have for our “Mâitresse” is too great. Happy birthday, dear Marie-Claire—thank you for all you have given the world—you will live forever!
—James David Christie
Professor of Organ
Oberlin Conservatory

 

 

•

It is both a privilege and an honor to be invited to join with those who are contributing tributes to Marie-Claire Alain. Like many, I first became acquainted with her through her prolific recordings and writings. It was not until the 1981 organ workshop at Colorado State University, Fort Collins, that I had the opportunity to observe her as a recitalist and teacher, and to get to know her as a person. My wife Marian was at the conference with me, and we were completely captivated at how the remarkable personality of Mme. Alain showed forth in all that she did—conducting classes and performing. Her enthusiasm and love for many different styles of music, along with her attention to detail and appropriate fingering, were things that those of us who were observers could retain far into the future.
Marian and I both found Mme. Alain to be supremely generous with her musical ideas, and gracious in letting us “pick her brain”! I clearly recall Marian remarking wistfully how she wanted so much to play Franck’s E-Major Choral, but her hands were too small. The immediate response was “Oh nonsense! I’ll show you how to do it!”
Aside from music and pedagogy, Marian was quite taken with her many other interests, especially relating to her home life—her children and the roses she tended to with loving care. We couldn’t get over how, being a genius, she was so very down-to-earth!
Regarding Mme. Alain’s stature as a teacher and scholar, the two occasions that gave Marian and me the best opportunities for observation and assimilation were the Fort Collins workshop and then, sometime later, a similar week at the Eastman School of Music.
The five-day Fort Collins event included a recital, which was divided in half and played on two different organs. The first part, devoted to Bach, was played on the 3-manual Casavant (1969) at the university. The second half was at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church where the organ is a 2-manual Phelps (1974). This program included Nivers, Franck, and Alain. It was of interest to me to note the effective way in which she handled the Franck and Alain on an unenclosed instrument that was predominately North German in style.
I was also greatly interested in her class presentation of the connection between French and German organ music. There were five groups of music for illustration:
1. Music written on religious texts. (from Couperin Parish Mass, Bach Partita O Gott du frommer Gott)
2. Use of liturgical melodies (four excerpts from de Grigny Mass; Bach, four chorales from BWV 651) 3, 4. Bach’s influence through the 19th century (Bach Prelude & Fugue in a minor, Franck Choral No. 3 in a minor, Bach Passacaglia, Franck Choral No. 2 in b minor)
5. Connections of J. Alain with J. S. Bach (Bach Sonata No. 3 in d-minor, Alain Variations sur un thème de Clement Janequin, Choral Dorien, Choral Phrygien, Litanies).
Marian and I gained so much from the sessions that week that I find myself wishing I could hear them all over again!
One especial gesture of kindness that I cannot forget is the beautiful note that Mme. Alain wrote to me following Marian’s death ten years ago. This letter completes the esteem and admiration we both had for Mme. Alain for all these years—as a performer, teacher, and a wonderful person!
This is to wish her continuing great joy and success for many, many years!
—David Craighead
Professor Emeritus
Eastman School of Music

 

 

 

 

•

Like my friend and colleague Jim Christie, I was also a young person in Wisconsin when I first came to know of Marie-Claire Alain. Playing the organ was my first love, and it was during my senior year in high school that I went to hear her play a recital at Northwestern University. The program made such an impression on me that to this day, 35 years later, I can still remember some of the compositions that she performed.
My decision to enroll at the Lawrence University Conservatory of Music was largely based on the fact that their organ teacher, Miriam Duncan, had recently returned to the States after a year of sabbatical study in Europe. During that year she was a student of Anton Heiller, but also took some lessons from Mme. Alain, specifically to study early French music. So, having the opportunity to study with a student of Marie-Claire Alain, I soaked up information and performance practice like a sponge. All I wanted to do my freshman year was to play early French music! Quite coincidentally, in the fall of my sophomore year, I happened to win a contest in which I played Clérambault’s Second Suite. Anton Heiller was on the jury and was the first to plant the seed that perhaps I might want to study with Mme. Alain myself some day. That’s exactly what I did during my senior year. After graduate school I went back to France for two more years.
Mme. Alain’s students traveled to her home in L’Etang-la-Ville, a western suburb of Paris. (In about the mid-1970s, she affiliated herself with the conservatory at Rueil-Malmaison, and so students after me studied in a more structured conservatory environment.) It was such a relaxed environment (including her cat sitting on the window sill) that it was more an atmosphere of friends getting together than a young student in the presence of a great teacher. My lesson time was on Tuesdays at 10:15, and I was her only student of the morning. Sometimes the lessons were an hour; sometimes they stretched to 90 minutes or more.
I’ll never forget my first lesson. One can imagine what a bundle of nerves I was, yet Marie-Claire put me instantly at ease with a simple admonishment: “You’re not here to impress me with how well you play, nor to make me cry with what beautiful music you can produce. You’re here to learn.”
And so it was, for three years, countless lessons during which we covered all of the major French Baroque literature, nearly the complete works of Bach, and most of the music of Jehan Alain, Franck and other French masters, as well as a generous smattering of North German music, too. The repertoire at each lesson was totally different. Only once did I play the same piece twice.
Mme. Alain’s teaching style was similar to what I had been used to as an undergraduate. She started with the assumption that one could at least play the notes and beyond that very little was ever necessarily right or wrong. Often she would throw out a provocative question about interpretation just to quiz general knowledge of a period and style. On more than one occasion I caught her purposely stating something totally contrary just to see if I’d have the wherewithal (or nerve?) to contradict her! More than anything, Marie-Claire made a very conscious effort to allow her students the freedom to express themselves at the organ. I remember her saying “the last thing the world needs is a bunch of little Marie-Claires running around!” Since then I’ve always been of the opinion that the mark of a really great teacher is one who can teach without stifling the spirit or creativity of the student. Her students bear her imprint without being her clone.
In the 30 years that have elapsed since those days as a student in France, I have been continually impressed with Marie-Claire’s continued interest in her former students. It is often said that her students are like her children and that, while they grow up and move away, the bond remains nonetheless. When I consider the sheer number of students that she has taught over her impressive career, I wonder how she has time to do anything else except to keep up with her extended family. Recently, I’ve heard Marie-Claire play any number of times and, like Horowitz or Rubenstein, who played well into their 80s, she continues to play beautifully. Clearly you’re not ready to retire from performance, Marie-Claire! Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your wisdom, your guidance, your inspiration, and, most of all, for your enduring and loving friendship.
—Thomas F. Froehlich
Organist, First Presbyterian Church
Dallas, Texas

 

 

 

 

•

One of the great pleasures for me during the past 30 years of teaching at McGill has been those numerous occasions when Marie-Claire Alain came to give masterclasses and play concerts. The most memorable of these was in November 2001 when her visit happily coincided with the Fall Convocation, and McGill was able to confer a Doctor of Music, Honoris Causa, on her. The text of the citation that I read was as follows:
“Marie-Claire Alain is one of the legendary musicians of our time. Mme. Alain was born in 1926 at Saint-Germain-en-Laye into a home full of music. Her father, Albert Alain, who had studied with Caussade, Guilmant, and Vierne, was an accomplished church musician, performer, and composer. Her brother, Jehan, killed in action in 1940, left a legacy of some of the 20th century’s finest organ music. A second brother, Olivier, became a leading musicologist. By the age of 12, Marie-Claire was already, on occasion, replacing her father in the organ loft. Her own teachers, after her father, included such illustrious musicians as Marcel Dupré, Maurice Duruflé, André Marchal, and Gaston Litaize: a goodly heritage indeed.
“As concert organist, Mme. Alain has toured worldwide and made over 200 LP recordings and more than 60 CDs, and earned numerous prizes, including multiple Grands Prix du Disque. “As a pedagogue, Mme. Alain has had a spectacular career. Students from the four corners of the globe have flocked to Paris to study with her, their names reading like a veritable Who’s Who of the organ world today. Probably no other organ teacher has produced so many prize winners at international competitions. Her courses are legendary, her teaching marked by an open questioning manner and a quest for authenticity in matters of historical performance practice.
“Mme. Alain has also been a champion of historical instruments, evidenced by the great care she takes to choose the most historically appropriate instrument for each recording project. This obviously entails exhaustive research.
“As a scholar, Mme. Alain has published numerous articles on performance practice, many of which have been widely translated. We are pleased to note frequent citation in musicological literature of one of her articles published by McGill in L’Orgue à notre époque, a collection of papers and proceedings of an organ symposium held at the University in 1981 on the occasion of the installation of the French classical organ in Redpath Hall.
“Marie-Claire Alain has been named a member of the Swedish Royal Academy of Music. The city of Lubeck granted her the Buxtehude Prize in recognition of her work promoting early German music, and the city of Budapest awarded her the Franz Liszt Prize. In France, she is a Commander of the Légion d’honneur and a member of the Ordre Nationale du Mérite and of the Ordre Nationale des Arts et Lettres.”
The 2001 visit of Marie-Claire also happily coincided with the 20th anniversary of the splendid Wolff organ in Redpath Hall. She gave masterclasses on both weekends before and after convocation and played a memorable recital. During the planning stages of this organ in the late 1970s, she was always ready and willing to answer questions, or to point us in the right direction and open doors. Needless to say, planning an historical copy in the 1970s was somewhat more nerve wracking than it might appear today. It was a great adventure, and Marie-Claire knew how to encourage us to stay the course whenever doubts set in.
There are many anecdotes that come to mind. One of the most memorable for me dates from 1969 when she invited all her students to come to Poitiers. She had just completed a recording session over the preceding two days, and there she was giving us a class on this great Clicquot. The energy and the generosity were breathtaking to say the least. And of course there was wonderful food and wine in a little restaurant sympathique!
A story that I love to tell my students, especially those having difficulty remembering where the stops are, concerns a visit to play a concert on the von Beckerath in my church in Montréal. I met her at the airport around 11 am and we proceeded to the church. She spent about half an hour trying out various registrations and asking my opinion but she never wrote anything down. Then we went off for a leisurely lunch bien arosé. After lunch she went to her hotel to rest and to study her scores. That evening she played her concert from memory and pulled all her own stops in the process. All the registrations worked magically! What métier!
There were the many occasions when she traveled for concerts and I would go along as assistant, especially during the Haarlem organ academies. Not only did I get a chance to play some incredible organs, but we drank some splendid wine.
When all the faculty were assembled to teach at the 2003 McGill Summer Organ Academy, I realized that half of the fourteen were her former students. I think that even she was a little surprised—at least momentarily—when I announced this at the opening dinner. Has there ever been an organ teacher more admired and loved by her former students than Marie-Claire Alain?
—John Grew
University Organist, Chair of Organ Area, Schulich School of Music,
McGill University
Artistic Director,
McGill Summer Organ Academy

 

 

 

 

•

It was in 1961, when I was a 13-year-old organ student, that the Des Moines (Iowa) Chapter of the American Guild of Organists presented Marie-Claire Alain in a concert at University Christian Church on the Walter Holtkamp pipe organ. It was impressive to hear her performing from memory, and captivating to hear Litanies for the first time.
From that moment, I became obsessed with finding all of her recordings. My quest took me to every bookstore and record shop in central Iowa, and unearthed recordings of Couperin, de Grigny, Buxtehude, Pachelbel, Franck, Alain, and Widor; Musical Heritage Society had the good sense to issue her performances of all the works of Bach.
In 1967 during my college years, Mme. Alain performed in St. Louis at the Priory on an instrument with mechanical action. I remember her playing all six of the Bach Schübler Chorales, the third Trio Sonata, the St. Anne Prelude and Fugue, and the Franck Pastorale as well as Messiaen’s Dieu Parmi Nous and both of the Jehan Alain Fantasies. The clarity and vibrancy of her rhythm coupled with her registrations made this concert an unforgettable example of personal expression and music making.
From 1972 to 1986, I taught organ and theory at a small college in Virginia that was fortunate to have a new concert hall housing a Flentrop organ. In 1973, 1978, 1982 and 1985, Marie-Claire Alain came to campus for concerts and masterclasses. It was inspiring and exciting to hear her perform and teach as well as to have the opportunity to solidify a blossoming friendship. As a pedagogue, Mme. Alain has sought out scores and documents that helped bring historical research alive and into the mainstream of today’s teaching.
In 1973, an inquiry about private study took me to Paris for the first of several such sojourns. Her enlightened teaching brought current performance practices to my inner musical ear and new expressive sensitivity to my playing especially in early French music and the music of Bach. Our lessons on her house organ or at her church at St. Germain-en-Laye shall forever remain as highlights of my career.
Since moving to New York City in 1991, it has been a joy to present Mme. Alain in concert at The Church of the Holy Trinity (Episcopal) in four special events. Her New York City appearances have been inspiring. Her preeminence as a musician has been noted in the New York Times referring to her as “the Grande Dame of the organ world” and by the New York City AGO chapter bestowing upon her its “Performer of the Year” accolade. The AGO national council presented her with a lifetime achievement award following her concert at The Church of the Holy Trinity in October 1999. The education committee of the Guild further endorsed Mme. Alain’s prominence as a teacher by filming her masterclasses at Holy Trinity and the University of Kansas for the AGO Master Series.
We all come together to honor Marie-Claire Alain on her 80th birthday as a performer, teacher, scholar and friend, and to celebrate her life, her love of music, and her lasting influence on our profession. —Stephen Hamilton
The Church of the Holy Trinity (Episcopal)
New York City

 

 

 

 

•

In the late 1960s, while I was an undergraduate student at St. Olaf College, my teacher, Robert Kendall, arranged for his students to travel to Minneapolis to hear a recital by Marie-Claire Alain. The recital was held in the cavernous sanctuary of Central Lutheran Church, and on that evening every seat was occupied. There was a sense of anticipation as the crowd was waiting for the first sight of the performer, and it was evident that we would be experiencing something exceptional that evening. I remember the thunderous applause when she appeared—a tiny figure facing that huge crowd—and I remember that she performed completely from memory. But even now, over 40 years later, I vividly remember being completely transported by her music making. I had no idea that organ playing could be so beautiful, could communicate so clearly. I wanted to meet her after the recital, but the crowd completely engulfed her, and we students were whisked away back to Northfield. That evening I vowed to meet her someday and thank her for that recital. Little did I know how our lives would intersect. Through the years, I heard her play many times both in North America and in Europe. I not only got to meet her, but to study with her, and she became the dominant musical force in my life. I discovered that not only can she communicate with her playing, but that as a teacher Marie-Claire is without peer. Whenever I feel my busy schedule overwhelming me, I have only to remind myself of Marie-Claire’s prodigious output as a performer, recording artist, teacher, and scholar, and I realize I’m moving in slow motion in comparison. While most of us know Marie-Claire as the recipient of numerous awards and honors, her greatest pride has been her family—both the family that she grew up in and the family that she created. Without the inspiration, love and support of her family, she could not have had the career that has brought her so many accolades. Her home is full of laughter, good food and good wine. My wife Patti and I treasure the evenings that we spent with Marie-Claire and her late husband, Jacques Gommier. I don’t think we have ever laughed more than on those occasions. The close and gregarious relationship that she enjoys with her children and grandchildren is reflected in her music making. Marie-Claire likes good food. She likes to read books; in fact, she learned English in large part by reading novels in English. She loves flowers, especially roses, and has always made room for a big garden in her yard. She finds knitting a good way to relax. She loves to drive—fast!! She has traveled more than anyone I know.
I recently reminisced with Marie-Claire about the first time I heard her play. She was pleased to know that she had achieved the goal she sets each time she performs—to communicate her love of the music. It has been my great fortune to know Marie-Claire—as a teacher, a colleague and a friend. Happy Birthday Marie-Claire!
—James Higdon
Dane and Polly Bales Professor of Organ
The University of Kansas

 

 

 

 

•

Some 40 years ago, I took a carload of students from Albion College (Michigan) to hear a little-known organist from Paris perform one of her first concerts in the United States. We were all dazzled by her technique, musical sensitivity, versatility of style, but above all, her ability to communicate with the audience. My friendship with this great artist, Marie-Claire Alain, began when we met and visited after her recital.
As a result of that first encounter I arranged to study with her during the early summer of 1966 at the Alain family home in St. Germain-en-Laye on the now famous “Alain Organ,” and also on the smaller house organ in her home in L’Etang-la-Ville. Later that summer I took her classes at the International Summer Academy for Organists in Haarlem, the Netherlands.
This petite young lady sat on the bench at that huge St. Bavo console, would swing around to face the various student groupings, and instantly switch from French to German to Italian to English. Amazing! She had a command of the music like no one else I had ever known. Always gracious and kind, she gently corrected and coached us with skill and authority.
A particularly memorable experience happened during that Haarlem experience. She announced to the class that she would be playing a recital on the famous Schnitger organ in Zwolle, and since I had a car I volunteered to be her chauffeur. Now if I were preparing a recital—anywhere—I’d arrive at least one day in advance. But arriving mid-afternoon on the day of the recital was apparently plenty of time for her, and that commenced only after we first took time for a beer to quench the thirst after a warm afternoon drive.
She graciously let me spend some time “trying out” the great Schnitger—a real challenge for me since its pitch was one step higher than A=440, and my ears and fingers couldn’t reconcile playing the Bach E-flat Prelude in the key of F. Obviously this was not a problem for her.
We had dinner across the town square, and when the check hadn’t arrived just minutes before the recital was to begin, I remained to settle up while she hurried across the plaza. By the time I arrived she had already begun what was to be a brilliant performance to a packed church. What an ability to concentrate!
After that wonderful summer there were many more occasions to experience our friendship, usually in conjunction with a recital. Many of those times she was a guest in our home, occasionally joined by her husband Jacques Gommier. Being a true friend, she invited us to be their guests in Paris and Maule. Marie-Claire Alain has countless friends in this country and Europe as witness the long receiving lines after every recital. Even though she may be exhausted after a demanding day of teaching and playing, she’s always warm and friendly to all who greet her, and always available for advice and counsel—and a hug.
This remarkable artist has made more friends for the organ than any one other person I know. Happy birthday, dear friend.
—John Obetz
Professor Emeritus
Conservatory of Music
University of Missouri at Kansas City Organist Emeritus, the Community of Christ World Headquarters (formerly RLDS), Independence, Missouri

 

 

 

 

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Study

I first heard Marie-Claire Alain play in Detroit in 1964. The following day, she was on campus at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, with Marilyn Mason. Dr. Mason was driving her to Lansing for a masterclass and recital, and I was invited to accompany them. As I observed Mme. Alain’s work with students in the masterclass, I realized that she had not only an enormous wealth of knowledge to share and could immediately analyze what might help the person’s playing, but also was exceptionally kind and down to earth. Right then I began to formulate the idea of studying with her. A few weeks later when she played in Evanston, Illinois, I drove over to hear her. Afterwards I got up the nerve to ask if I might come to study with her.
I went to Paris after completing my master’s degree at Michigan. I was 22 years old, knew little French, yet felt instantly at home. As it turned out, I was her first full-time American student.
On the day of my first lesson, she picked me up at the train station in St. Germain-en-Laye and took me to the family home. In the parlor was a 4-manual organ. My lessons would be on the Alain organ! We got right to work and later that afternoon I went back to Paris with a large list of repertoire to learn. From then on, after lessons I tried to write down everything she said in a notebook as I took the return train. I still have that notebook.
Our lessons were usually two hours in length. As they progressed, I came to understand that pieces needed to be learned in their entirety for the first lesson, and “perfected” by the second. Except for large Bach works, pieces were seldom brought a third time. My repertoire grew by leaps and bounds. She would allow me to play a piece through before making comments. Good work on my part was met with generous praise; criticisms were delivered gently. She got to the important things immediately. Once in a while, for example, she might show me fingerings for a small hand. But her approach to everything was musical first and foremost; technical work came only when necessary to express the music. She was always kind, often funny, and lessons were an absolute joy. (See continuation of this article.)