Robert Noehren: In Memoriam

by Robert Noehren

Introduction

Robert Noehren will celebrate his 91st birthday on the
16th of this month. He has enjoyed an unusual musical career and is perhaps the
only serious organist in history who became an organ builder and skillful
voicer as well. This past year witnessed the release of a remastered CD of his
recordings on the large organ he built for St. John's Cathedral in Milwaukee
(The Robert Noehren Retrospective, Lyrichord LYR-CD-6005) and the book, An
Organist's Reader: Essays (Harmonie Park Press). He was for many years chairman
of the organ department and University Organist at the University of Michigan,
has made more than 40 recordings, authored numerous articles, and built more
than 20 organs throughout the United States.

Once upon a time when I was about seven or eight years old,
my father asked me if I should like to take piano lessons. I can't remember
that I was very happy with the prospect. My play hours after school with
baseball and my bicycle seemed pretty precious to me those days. My father was
a family doctor, and one of his patients was an attractive young lady, I doubt
that she was over 21 years old, who was beginning a career as a piano teacher.
She lived a long way from home, and I had to take a streetcar many miles to her
studio. Well, with much persuasion I began my lessons. After two or three
sessions it became obvious that there wasn't much rapport between my teacher
and me. She was very strict and was determined that from the beginning I would
have to maintain a hand position which was just so. I guess in most
circumstances there is nothing wrong with that, but I felt I was being put in a
strait jacket. We worked together at each hand alone, but all my efforts seemed
to trouble her even when I tried to play a very simple series of notes with one
hand alone. We struggled on, and it seemed like weeks before we tried anything
with two hands together. I had decided by this time that my coordination was
poor, and I felt very clumsy. Piano was not for me. I practiced just as little
as I could get by with. The whole year passed and, so far as my music was
concerned, it was an unhappy one. I constantly fretted about my lessons and
wanted to go back to baseball wholeheartedly.

Late in the spring I was getting off the streetcar on the
way to my lesson when I was struck by an automobile and run over. By some
miracle the wheels of the car missed any part of my body. I stood up almost
immediately and, except for some scratches, seemed to be quite unhurt. I even
continued on to my lesson. Needless to say, my parents were terribly upset when
they heard of the accident, and at this point it was not difficult for me to
persuade them that I should give up music.

The summer passed and a few weeks after school had begun
again, my father gently approached me telling me he had another patient who was
a piano teacher living very close to our home, and would I like to try again? I
must have been in a very receptive mood, for I said, "why not." This
woman was one of two maiden ladies who had a studio together. Each had her own
class of students. The one who was to be my teacher was named Clara Schwarb.
Again I began lessons, but this time it was quite a different story. Miss
Schwarb had a very attractive way with children, and I liked her at once. In
fact, she made a serious effort to interest me in music. I can no longer recall
the details of our lessons, but I do remember that she spent some time at each
lesson telling me about the great composers and assigned me little pieces which
they had written. I began to respond with enthusiasm and after only a few weeks
had passed I was playing rather difficult pieces for a beginner such as
Träumerei of Robert Schumann. Miss Schwarb was not very strict, nor was
she very critical. She did not slap my hand as had the first teacher, and did
not even try to correct wrong notes. And she had such a happy disposition. I
soon looked forward with much pleasure to my lessons and, I believe, by the end
of that year had already made up my mind to become a musician. I remember Miss
Schwarb with affection and owe a great deal of gratitude to her for her
patience and persuasion.

I have never ceased to wonder about talent. Perhaps
sometimes the teacher has more talent than the student. In any event, my
strange introduction to music may give us something to think about and perhaps
another slant at the meaning of talent.

St. John's Episcopal Church, Buffalo

During my early 20s I became organist and choirmaster of St.
John's Episcopal Church in Buffalo, the city where I had been brought up. It
was a lovely church designed by the famous architect, Bertram Goodhue, and
recently built in Tudor gothic style with fine stained glass and a ceiling
richly decorated with polychrome colors. I was there eight years, and spent
three and even four hours at the organ nearly every morning. It was a time when
I learned a great deal of repertoire from Bach to Tournemire.

In those days the church was open every day for prayer and
meditation. Occasionally someone would enter the church, unknown to me. One day
as I came to a concluding cadence, I was interrupted by an old man who came up
to the console and said, "Young man, I have been listening to your music,
and you are in a very strange mood. I see dark colors and something is
depressing you." I was taken aback and a little shocked to hear someone
remark about my mood, especially from a complete stranger, for, as I recall, I
really hadn't been concerned with how I was feeling and surprised that it would
be evident in my organ playing. For a moment I suddenly wondered for what
purposes I had been working all this time. He was a very old man, in his
eighties or nineties with a strong will. From time to time he returned and
would sit in the church listening to me practice and then tell me what he had
heard. Sometimes we would have discussions. He talked as though he were
planning to live forever, but I couldn't imagine why. Well, I was too young and
unsympathetic to appreciate his point of view. I felt sorry for him, for to me
he looked very old and I wondered if he would even live to reach the outside of
the church again.

Ernest Mitchell

A few years earlier, after high school, I had entered the
Institute of Musical Arts in New York (now the Juilliard School). During the
first weeks I explored the city and visited the fabulous Wanamaker store that
in those days had an enormous organ. Later, as I left the store I saw before me
a large and beautiful Gothic church. I entered and at once heard the organ. I
walked quietly forward toward the chancel where I could see an elegantly
dressed man sitting at a very large four-manual console. He was playing Karg-Elert's
Now Thank we all Our God. The organ sounded magnificent, and what I heard and
saw at once impressed me as a model of perfection. The organist was Ernest
Mitchell and the church was Grace Church, and both were to have a profound
influence on me.

Grace Church in those days was an enormously wealthy church.
If you approached the church on a Sunday morning you would see at least a score
of Rolls-Royces and Pierce-Arrows parked along Broadway with their respective
chauffeurs in black suits guarding the cars. When I entered the church the
small congregation, elegantly dressed, in that lovely gothic nave suggested
that here was a chapel just for millionaires. I had the feeling that I was not
supposed to be there and hesitated to remain for the service. Nevertheless, I
remained. The choir was highly paid, and it was my introduction to Mr.
Mitchell's unique boy choir. The soprano section, consisting of 20 boys, had a
most beautiful and unusual tone quality with intonation and phrasing that
seemed faultless. There were also eight men representing some of the finest
voices in town. Donald Dame, the tenor soloist, was also singing with the
Metropolitan Opera. The choir boys lived in a  very well appointed boarding school and rehearsed every day.
It was the finest boy choir I had ever heard, and even now the quality of that
wonderful choir remains in my memory. The organ in the church was enormous. It
was a double organ: the organ in the chancel had 80 stops and was built first
by Hutchins-Votey and then E.M. Skinner; the gallery organ was more recent
having been built again by E.M. Skinner, and it contained 60 stops. There were
five 32¢s in that church!

Mr. Mitchell, who had been a student of Widor in Paris,
played superbly. He was particularly interested in French music and played the
Widor and Vierne symphonies, Roger-Ducasse, Duruflé, and was the first
organist to play Tournemire in this country. He played many of the suites of
Tournemire's famous work, L'Orgue Mystique, and two of his works were dedicated
to Mr. Mitchell. I found it difficult to decide in what he excelled: his
magnificent choir or his wonderful organ playing. Several years later I was to
become his student.

Some 20 or 30 years later on a visit to New York, I again
wandered into Grace Church and discovered Mr. Mitchell practicing again at the
console of a new organ. He was now retired and apparently in his seventies. A
new organist and choirmaster had been engaged, and a new organ had replaced the
old which reflected the incumbent's baroque taste. I was surprised though that

Mr. Mitchell still continued to practice, especially on an
organ which obviously did not suit his tastes. This I could not understand. I
said to myself why doesn't this old man give up and simply enjoy his
retirement. His professional life seemed to me to be at an end, and I couldn't
imagine what in the world he was practicing for.

A different view

Well, here I am at the same gate post, and the scene looks quite
different from my point of view today. Now I realize how I had completely
misunderstood those two old men who had come into my earlier life, and I see
clearly that some of us wish to live forever and carry on the same desires and
ambitions of our youth. In fact, for me the next recital or recording is still
my zenith. The urges for artistic accomplishment are even greater than ever and
are nourished by many years of experience. Of course, at this late date I no
longer look forward or backward except as a point of reference. Now I must live
only for the moment with all its challenges and problems. Nevertheless, I must
confess, there is always the future. This can't last forever. Well, I simply
couldn't understand all this when I was a young man.

Lynnwood Farnam

I have never forgotten those two old men. They are two of
the many influential figures that came into my young life. Lynnwood Farnam was
another and probably the greatest of them all. My ambitions as an organist were
probably linked to the influence Farnam had over me. His approach to organ
playing remains unique in my memory, and he set a standard of quality in
performance that was surely unprecedented and from my perspective today
re-mains unchallenged.

Farnam was unusual; his conception of a musical work was
never confined by the limitations of the organ. He sought to realize all its
musical possibilities in spite of tonal and mechanical
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  limitations. He was of course concerned
about the quality of the instrument he had to play, as are all good performers.
He had immense enthusiasm for the organ; he understood its traditional
qualities and had a strong instinctual feeling for it.

On one occasion I remember hearing him play a Magnificat of
Titelouze and was struck by his handling of the registration and his style of
playing. He seemed to re-create the atmosphere of that period, even though the
organ was hardly appropriate for the purpose. He realized, for instance, that a
great work of Bach must finally sound as if it thoroughly belonged to the organ--it
must, after all, be completely idiomatic. Thus, by combining a rich musical
feeling with a passion for the organ, he succeeded in realizing an unusual
conception of such a work on the average organ, even a mediocre one.

He was, first of all, one of the most accurate of all
keyboardists I have ever heard. I am sure that this was not because he had
great pride in his technical ability. To the contrary, he believed that a wrong
note, no less a poor sound or a weak rhythmic figure,  spoiled the texture of the music and thus distracted from
the total impression. Accuracy was fundamental to his efforts to interpret the
music.  In the end it was this high
quality of Farnam's playing, musically and technically, which set such an
unusual standard for me to follow.

Josef Hofmann

Another of the great influences
of my life was the pianist Josef Hofmann, who was the head of the piano
department and, in fact, dean of the Curtis Institute when I was a student
there. Some say that Hofmann was the greatest pianist of the 20th century. His
chief contender in those days was Sergei Rachmaninoff, but both men were good
friends who seemed to stand in awe of each other. Like Farnam, Hofmann set the
highest possible standard; he was one of the most consistently accurate keyboard
players, and had the most remarkable mechanism of any  pianist I have ever heard. And it is interesting to know
that he was not only a great pianist but also a remarkable mechanical genius.
He had his own machine shop and had acquired several patents for devices he had
invented, including the shock absorber.

Over the years I have studied
Hofmann's technique at the piano; it was based on a system of leverage
involving the upper and lower arms. I came to understand that by using leverage
of the arms, it is possible to develop great skill and power at the piano and
still play with considerable ease. Of course, we organists do not need this
kind of power unless we are playing a large tracker organ with manuals coupled.
With this kind of technique the hands and fingers do not strike the keys. The
feeling is more like a pushing away from the keyboard.

Hofmann did little practice, and
I can understand why it is said that his technique required no maintenance. He
did most of his work mentally away from the piano. He could learn a big work
simply by studying the score, bring it to the instrument, and then play it at
once in a finished form. In the use of his technical system he developed a
unique touch with a tremendous control of dynamics. He not only played all the
right notes, but seemed to play the right notes better than other pianists. You
have to hear his playing to believe it.

Hofmann had one of the most
remarkable ears in musical history. One day when he was still a boy, he heard a
tuning fork supposed to be A-440 at the Metropolitan  Opera and said it was a shade sharp--and it was. With his
remarkable ear he could play back music correctly without ever having seen the
score. Not a week passes that I am not listening to one of the many Hofmann
recordings in my collection.

The Rev. Walter Lord

My early years of professional
life in Buffalo as organist at St. John's Church were memorable ones. The
Rector of the church, Walter Russell Lord, was a sympathetic influence in my
career. He was a personality of unusual culture with far reaching interests in
literature, the arts and music. His wife was a fine  painter who had exhibited at the famous Armory Show of 1913
in New York. They travelled constantly in England, France and Italy. Dr. Lord
and I sometimes had differences of opinion about the hymns and anthems, but he
nevertheless was a great inspiration to me, and my interest in painting and
gothic architecture began at this time.

Walter Holtkamp

Soon after I began my career at
St. John's Church in Buffalo, I became aware of an unusual organ builder in
Cleveland, Walter Holtkamp, the father of Walter Holtkamp, Jr., and grandfather
of Chris Holtkamp, who is now successfully running that company today. Walter
Holtkamp was apparently forging an unusual and even daring path which would
have a profound effect on the future of organ building in America, and I soon
became excited with what he was trying to do. I started going back and forth
between Buffalo and Cleveland to play and study his instruments. Early in the 1930s
he even had invited me to take part in a recital and reception in his shop
where he had set up one of his instruments. Holtkamp was aware of the new
movement in German organ building; he had also been reading and studying the
writings of Albert Schweitzer and had been corresponding with him. He had seen
how the modern American organ had lost almost all vestiges of its traditions.
His first interest, I believe,  was
to restructure its casework, so its speaking pipes could be brought forward
into the room and placed in an open position where they could be heard by the
listener just as all other musical instruments. He was the first builder in
this country to introduce the Rückpositiv, a division typical of North
German organ building, and his first example was installed in the original
organ built for the Cleveland Museum of Art. Holtkamp became another strong
influence in my life, and much of my feeling for the organ today goes back to
my experiences with Holtkamp.

Paul Hindemith

Toward the end of my tenure in
Buffalo it came as quite a surprise to hear that the composer, Paul Hindemith,
had been engaged to teach at the University of Buffalo, and there was a lot of
excitement in town in musical circles. My wife and I had been married for only
a year and lived in a small apartment just two blocks from the hotel where
Hindemith lived. Unfortunately, Hindemith only remained in Buffalo for several
months, mainly the spring of 1941, before he accepted a position at Yale
University. But during those 
months we saw a great deal of him. I became a student in a small class
for composition. Hindemith was very generous with his time. For a man with all
his accomplishments he had a very easy going manner and behaved as if he were
lazy and lonely. It seems he never turned down a request for his help or a
social invitation.

It so happens that I had
prepared my choir at that time for a concert which was to be held by
coincidence shortly after Hindemith's arrival. At the second or third meeting
of our class he called me aside and said that he had heard I was giving a
concert with my choir. He then added that he rarely attended concerts but that
he would like to attend the final rehearsal. What could I say?! A final
rehearsal is difficult enough under normal conditions, but for the great
Hindemith to attend my modest efforts with a volunteer choir put me in a trying
circumstance, to say the least. Well, of course he came.

The program was to open with a
short Buxtehude cantata with strings, and this was my only rehearsal with the
strings. It was the first work on the agenda, because I only needed the strings
for that one work. Here I was having to handle my choir in an already difficult
situation and then contend with the presence of one of the foremost musicians
of the day and one, moreover, who only a few weeks earlier had provoked
considerable attention by standing up against Hitler and the Nazis. You can
imagine how I felt!

Nevertheless, the rehearsal
began with the short introduction of the Buxtehude cantata which involved the
strings. We hadn't played more than eight bars when Hindemith interrupted the
rehearsal telling us he wasn't satisfied with the sound of a certain ornament.
Of course, ornaments are controversial, and it was well-known that Hindemith
had a strong interest in early music.

Moreover, it should be
remembered  that Hindemith was a
conductor who later in his life toured with and conducted many of the major
orchestras in Europe and America. He also had a special talent for playing instruments
and could play virtually all the instruments of the orchestra. He was a
virtuoso on the violin and viola.

He asked to see the score and
then suggested we begin again. After we had passed the point in question I
stopped and waited for Hindemith's appraisal. He was silent for a moment or so
and then admitted that what we had first played was, after all, the best
solution. The fact that he had nothing to offer relieved some of the tension
and made me feel somewhat more comfortable. The rehearsal proceeded and there
were no  more serious problems.

Incidentally, I had grown up
with the impression that such great men try to remain obscure in their private
lives and, in any event, do not waste a whole evening on small-town organists
and volunteer choirs. I wondered how he could afford the time for such
excursions! If he was looking for entertainment, I should think a movie might
have been more appropriate than to contribute to the nervous breakdown of a
young man still in his twenties. Nevertheless, I lived through that rehearsal and
at least had the comfort to know that he would not attend the concert.

Nevertheless, Hindemith was very
helpful to me during those months, and we also had many good times together. He
was a fascinating person. He had a dozen hobbies--gardening, model railroads,
timetables, maps, walking, etc.--in addition to his comprehensive activities in
music. He walked five miles every day, and by the time he had been with us for
two weeks, he knew Buffalo far more thoroughly than I who had
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  been born and brought up there. He
always seemed to take his time, and it is still a mystery to me how such a man
accomplished what he did and yet appeared to give one the impression he was
lazy. In fact, one day when asked about his well-being he said, "I have
just been walking around feeling stupid."

Eventually I had a lesson on how
Hindemith handles his time. One day my wife and I happened to have lunch in the
dining room of his hotel. We saw him there alone reading his book on Kepler in
preparation for an opera he was planning as he was having his lunch. We
returned home and about three o'clock received a phone call from Hindemith
announcing to us that he had just completed the score of the slow movement for
a new organ sonata. He asked if he might come over to the apartment so that we
might try it out on the piano. Of course, and we played it. I was much
impressed. He told us he had written it in 20 minutes, and, in fact, the score
was beautifully written all ready for the publisher. He wrote the first
movement the following morning and the final movement that afternoon. I
surmised that these pieces had probably been swirling around in his head during
those long daily walks and by the time he sat down at his desk, there was
little more to do than write out the scores. This then was the story of the
Third Sonata for organ. But there is still an interesting sequel to that story.

Hindemith knew that I owned a
recording machine. It was, of course, before the day of tape decks and the
proliferation of amateur recording. One had to go to some trouble to own a
recording machine of any kind those days, and my machine was a complicated
affair; the recording was made by actually cutting a disc with a needle. If it
went bad during a session, it was not so simple to try again, for it was fairly
expensive to begin again with a new disc. In any event, when Hindemith brought
me the final score he suggested we make a recording of it. I was pleased with
the idea, of course, and I agreed to do so. He asked me when we should set up a
date, for he wanted to be on hand. I looked at the sonata rather superficially
and thought to myself that learning this piece is going to require some hard
work. I brought out my little book and suggested a date about two weeks off. At
that, Hindemith exclaimed,"What! Are you going to go into hibernation and
sleep with this piece? Come on, let's do it the day after tomorrow!" Well,
I was flabbergasted, to say the least. I had never in my life tried to learn a
piece of such difficulty in so short a time, but it seemed that I had no
choice. My pride was such that I could not muster the nerve to disagree with
him. Somehow I managed to learn that sonata and make the recording according to
Hindemith's wishes. I never forgot that experience, and it taught me a lot
about how to practice. It also told me something about the handling of time and
why Hindemith was able to squeeze so much from his life.

Squire Haskin

Among my friends was a very
unusual man named Squire Haskin, who came to Buffalo as the director of music
at the First Presbyterian Church two or three years after I had become
choirmaster at St. John's Church. It didn't take me long to realize that Squire
was a musician of formidable talent, who, if I was going to react normally,
could give me some real competition. Squire had recently graduated from the
Eastman School of Music where he had been the first student in the history of
the school to do a double major, in organ and piano. In fact, for graduation he
had played both an organ recital and a piano recital from memory during the
same week. Soon after he arrived in Buffalo he played a very fine recital at
his church which included the Duruflé Toccata, the Bach Passacaglia and
a Franck Chorale all learned and memorized within a week's time.

I soon discovered that Squire
was also an amazing sight-reader; at the piano he could read at once a piece as
difficult as a Chopin Étude and, with one or two more readings, have it
memorized. Because of his musicianship and sight-reading ability he was soon in
demand as an accompanist for singers and instrumentalists around town. He was
often called back to Rochester to fill in as a last minute substitute at the
Eastman School. On such occasions, he could learn and play a Hindemith,
Bartók or Schoenberg work in a morning rehearsal with a violinist for
performance the same evening.

I didn't begin to have this kind
of talent, a formidable one, to say the least. However, I soon became aware
that Squire did not have the ambition nor did he espouse a career the equal of
his talents as pianist, organist or accompanist. Life had too many other
interests for him to settle down and concentrate on an artistic career. He was
content with his position as director of music of a large city church, and he
remained there for the rest of his life.

Over the years, as organist, he
played in recital or as voluntaries at the church services the complete works
of Bach, Franck, Vierne and Widor, and many of the works of Messiaen and
Langlais. He knew and played the piano literature as well. His quick
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  mind took to languages and he spoke
French fluently and at least some Italian. His interests embraced an extensive
awareness of painting and architecture, and he was an avid reader as well.

Squire, by his example, taught
me the art of living. He was a real gentleman and seemed to me to be a modern
example of the Renaissance man. He surrounded himself with fine books,
paintings and many other beautiful things. He listened to music and attended
concerts and galleries, intimately knowing the paintings of Buffalo's Albright
Art Gallery and many other galleries around the country.

But Squire essentially was a
modest person, not ambitious, and was never simply trying to extend his
knowledge to show off his ability. What he knew and loved was there only
because of his interest in such things. This made a strong impression on me. He
could be tough on occasion when necessary, but he never developed the arrogance
of so many college professors. He became an important influence in my life, and
we became life-long friends.

Years later I built him a large
new organ of 80 ranks for First Presbyterian Church. It brought us both a lot
of pleasure. In many ways, his life was too good to be true, and sadly he was
murdered in his own home by a thief on the eve of a celebration for 50 years of
service at the church. I had come to Buffalo to join in the celebration. It was
one of the saddest and most frustrating moments of my life, and I am still
haunted by that unfortunate occasion.

Teaching

I chose to be an organist by the
time I was 21 years old, and have been practicing and playing ever since.
During the 12-year period when I was teaching full time at the University of
Michigan, I played many recitals, including the complete organ works of Bach. I
don't remember how I did it, for my responsibilities in running the organ
department, teaching, committee meetings and the many interruptions of such a
schedule limited the hours I had for practice. Then, at the height of this
career I began organ building and a few years later gave up teaching. I had
liked teaching and I especially enjoyed the students, but I was somewhat
demanding and I am sure some of them did not entertain such an impression. But
I found teaching the most difficult work of all. To listen every day to the
great organ works played by someone who is just beginning his career, often
played well and sometimes very well, yet never quite the way one conceives
them, is not easy. Very few students at that age have reached a level with what
I call an artistic attitude, and it is very tiring to listen every day to such
playing. I doubt that the students ever stopped to think of how I felt about my
playing. After all, I was never satisfied with my own efforts. In fact, I was
so critical of myself that I didn't dare play for them seriously at lessons
when I should have. I finally had to perform at recitals, of course, and then I
tried to do the best I could. I was not one blessed with too much talent.
Technical skill did not come easily for me. I had to work, and learn to teach
myself.

Rhythm and nuance

In the performance of any
musical instrument rhythmic nuance is an indispensible means for musical
expression. The organ is the most mechanical of all musical instruments and it
tends to discourage nuance. Yet, nuance is the lifeblood of musical expression;
it is the means for making subtle distinctions with dynamics and rhythm.
Traditionally the organ has a very limited means for expression; dynamics
cannot be affected directly at the keyboard. With the invention of the swell
box, it at least became possible to control the dynamic level of one or a group
of stops by opening or closing such an enclosure by means of shutters. It is
easy enough to learn to play in a simple, equally spaced order of beats and
measures but the very nature of the organ with its rigid and uncompromising
sound seems to inhibit a serious attempt in the handling of nuance.
Nevertheless, with effort it is possible.

We organists have developed a
mode of playing which stresses one dynamic at a time and a simple approach to
rhythm by playing too much in strict time. Of course, on a baroque organ we can
have only one dynamic at a time, and thus we have found it easy to believe in a
tradition of playing concerto movements and preludes and fugues from beginning
to end with but one registration and, of course, only one dynamic, more or less
in strict time. But I am not sure that this is a kind of playing typical of
good organ playing in earlier times. Moreover, I find many people who really
enjoy music have learned to stay away from organ recitals.

With practice, I find that even
playing the simplest kind of organ, even one with tracker action built in an
old style, it is possible to become involved with a much more subtle kind of
rhythm by practicing a touch inspired by imagination for dynamic variation.
Although they cannot be altered, just the attempt to feel where dynamics occur
with the touch will affect and alter the rhythm and even suggest a variation of
dynamics. This is the kind of playing typical of a sensitive pianist. However,
because of his instrument he is able to affect both dynamics and the rhythm at
the same time. The two go together in a very natural way. Nevertheless, we
organists should be able to develop a touch which approaches this kind of
playing and which will produce subtle nuances of rhythm which in turn suggest
variation of dynamics.

I have read very much from the
18th century which suggests that performers then were far more sensitive to the
expressive quality and touch of their instruments than we now believe. For
instance, J.J. Quantz, a friend of Bach, wrote:

Good execution must be varied.
Light and shadow must be constantly maintained. No listener will be
particularly moved by someone who plays in the same colour. Thus, a continuous
alternation of forte and piano must be observed. The alternation of piano and
forte heightens some notes at one time, at another arouses tenderness.

Of course, Quantz is mainly
speaking of playing the flute or the violin, not the organ. However, I have
tried in vain to find information from that time which suggests that organists
should play in a special style which is expressionless. Organists in our time
have too easily come to the conclusion, for instance, that even registration in
its simplest use should never be changed in the performance of a prelude and
fugue. To the contrary, I am persuaded that Quantz is quite right when he says
that no listener will be pleased by someone who plays without change of color
or dynamics, and that intrigues me far more than blindly following a tradition
which offers so little and is obviously questionable. I could quote many more
passages which confirm the statement of Quantz, but I shall include one more
which suggests that some players apparently played as expressively as we do
today. This passage describes the playing of one of the foremost players of the
viola da gamba during the 17th century, Nicolas Hotman, and is found in a study
book written by Jean Rousseau in 1687:

One admired him often more when
he played tenderly some simple little song than in the most learned and
complicated pieces. The tenderness of his playing comes from those beautiful
bowings which he animated, and softened so cleverly and properly that he
charmed all those who heard him.

I go back to the 18th century
because, as organists, we play an instrument which was favored by the great
J.S. Bach, and whose organ music is the cornerstone of our whole repertoire.
The music of Bach is wonderful, and I am convinced it should be played far more
expressively that it is. None of us really knows how Bach played, and I don't
understand why we should be so determined to make his music fit all the rules
of a vague tradition probably created after Bach was gone and, in any event, so
little understood in our time. Dom Bedos, who authored a famous work on organ
building during the 18th century, wrote:

There is a manner of conceiving
music entirely different from the one taught in all the treatises upon this
art: it is founded upon the execution itself.

I agree with this. It suggests
that there is an obligation for me to study the score itself, explore it, and
using my intuition, find for myself the best possible way to make it sound.

Organ design

Finally, we need good organs to
perform expressively. The organ is a very complicated instrument, and this may
in part account for our inability as organists and organ builders to reach the
high musical standards of the pianist or the violinist. In truth, the
expressive possibilities of the organ are much greater than we seem to believe
they are.

A good pianist sits down at a
fine Steinway piano and is able to perform a Chopin Ballade or a delicate
Debussy Prelude with ease and conviction. Both the player and the instrument
are sensitive to musical and instrumental problems and understand together the
function of their instrument.

Now, I do not find this kind of
rapport true of the organ. I am rarely convinced that the player and the organ
builder are even talking to each other. Consider how organs are designed. The
procedure, it seems, tends to be haphazard. For instance, the organist will
provide a list of stops, but the builder rarely understands the musical
implications of what that list means in terms of registration. The builder
then, on his own, inadvertently proceeds to design the instrument from his
point of view and with far different motives than the organist. Both know too
little about each other's art.

I am appalled that so few
organists have more than a superficial understanding of their instrument, its
design, tone and action. The voicing of organ pipes still remains somewhat of a
mystery to organists and even some organ builders. There are apparently few
organists too who really revel in the tonal colors of their instrument.
Exploring and exploiting the various sounds of an organ requires at least a
little skill in improvisation and can be a source of inspiration.

Look again at the piano; its
casework is always the same and simply constructed to contain the elements
which produce its tone. Organ cases also are constructed to contain the
pipework and mechanism of the organ, but the organ builder is too often more
concerned for the appearance of the organ and its casework than its tone
quality. Walter Holtkamp back in the 1930s, 40s and 50s was a builder who came
the closest to such an ideal. He insisted on building a organ which first could
be placed properly within the room and then designed his cases to expose the
pipework, allowing the sound to be projected directly to the listener. Today,
it is the fashion to build cases in the style of the 17th and 18th centuries.
Much of this kind of casework is redundant, burdened with heavy woodwork, and
unnecessarily expensive.

It is also the responsibility of
the organist as well as the builder to give more serious thought to the
wind-chest and action to provide a sensitive and responsible touch for the
player, and one which will encourage nuance. The voicing of the pipes and the
construction of the action are closely related to each other. The finest
voicing favors pipes which speak promptly. The design of the chest and its
valves must be sympathetic to this kind of voicing. The voicing and the speed
and precision of the valve must work together. The valves in various types of
windchests are often too fast or too slow for the voicing, but with modern
technology it is now possible to design and adjust the opening and closing of
the valve to suit the voicing of the pipe. There is an urgent need for
discussion of this kind among organists, for it is only the organist with some
knowledge of voicing and the playing mechanism who can really understand the
kind of responsiveness he desires and translate his desires to the organ
builder. And it is he who should be responsible for the whole organization of
the instrument, one which is carefully designed to create an organ for the
finest kind of performance. The organist and the organ builder have common
interests and need to become involved more closely with each other.

The function of musical
performance is to play music for the enjoyment of music. That's the purpose of
a symphony concert, a piano recital, a performance of lieder or an organ
recital. Simply said, that is our goal. But all of these means of performance
can only be judged by the fine art of listening to music. If we go to an organ
recital simply to find out if one of our colleagues is using correct tempos or
is playing a chorale prelude in a proper style, both we and our recitalist
colleague really belong back in the classroom. Fortunately, we still enjoy a
musical culture in which there are magnificent symphony orchestras, wonderful
string quartets, pianists, violinists and, of course, some organists, where the
goal of musical performance, plain and simple, is to make beautiful music for
the listener.

During these last years I have discovered
more than ever the great joy of listening to music. It's a gold mine. I try to
set aside an hour or so each day just to listen to music. I try not to let
myself be distracted by reading or conversation. I just try to remain quiet and
relaxed without making any undue effort to concentrate, for in my life
listening to music is one of its greatest joys.

by Joseph Horning

Johannes Brahms, who died 100 years ago on April 3, 1897, composed the final installment of his musical legacy--the Eleven Chorale Preludes, Opus 122 --during the last year of his life. They were written during his summer holiday at Ischl, where Brahms had vacationed annually from 1889. But his final visit was clouded by Clara Schumann's recent death and his own illness, cancer of the liver, which had taken his father twenty-five years earlier and the symptoms of which he likely would have recognized.1

 

When considering Op. 122, it is valid to ask: "Are these works all that special?"--because no composer created an endless string of pearls. Indeed, Peter Williams revealed his reservations in a review in The Organ Quarterly:

[While] the stature of the man makes all his works interesting in some way or another, there is something depressing about this music.  I do not mean merely the death-centered theme of Op. 122 but the general tenor of the musical idioms found here, the kind of organ sound most suitable for them and the weird absence--considering who their composer was--of melodic flare or that dramatic sense of sonority and rhythmic impetus we know from the composer's symphonies.2

As these works are chorale preludes, Mr. Williams' mention of "melodic flare" is peculiar. And his comparison to the "sonority and rhythmic impetus" of Brahms' symphonies is irrelevant, as these are clearly miniatures, each wonderful and satisfying when played in an empathetic manner. But it is perhaps unfortunate that the complete organ works of Johannes Brahms--his four early works dating from 1856-7 and the "Eleven"--fit so conveniently on one CD, for they are becoming the most frequently recorded set of organ works, second only to Boëllmann's ubiquitous Suite Gothique. Unlike the latter, however, Brahms' "Eleven" are a collection rather then a suite, and their effectiveness is diminished when heard all at one sitting. I feel they have far more impact and are more enjoyable inserted one or two at a time into an eclectic program.

Clearly, what can be a small masterpiece in the hands of one can be tedious in the hands of another--and even more so for Op. 122.  For with these works, Brahms has hidden eleven treasures inside a maze. In this essay, we will examine the "Eleven" and discuss ways to make these treasures come alive.

Form of the Chorales

To begin, see Table 1 for a survey of the forms Johannes Brahms used in Op. 122.  In addition to simple harmonized treatments, Brahms embellished some chorales into aria form, extended some with interludes, or used each phrase as a motif for the accompanying parts (Pachelbel style), or surrendered to a free fantasy form in which the original melody is almost totally lost.3

One can see from Table 1 that half are on Passiontide or requiem themes.  But only number 10, based on the "passion" chorale, expresses the depths of the emotions implied by the text: "My heart is ever yearning for blessed death's release." Of those based on other themes, numbers 5 through 8 are warm, lovely and contemplative and number 4 is an outburst of joy. Even O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, the last of the "Eleven" and Brahms' final composition, is a gentle farewell to life. E. Power Biggs summed up these works very well in the Preface to his edition of Op. 122:

Composed in memory of his dearest and most faithful friend, Clara Schumann, at the same time the Preludes are a revealing document of Brahms' thoughts on his own life. One biographer, Niemann, points out that most of the Preludes are: "A retrospect and an epilogue, a salutation to youth and its ideals, and a farewell to this world which is, after all, so fair." Somber as many of the Preludes are, they yet have a warm, autumnal quality that is all Brahms' own.4

Baroque or Romantic?

Since the "Eleven" are cast in the traditional German form of chorale preludes, and since Brahms had applied himself diligently to the rediscovery of early music, in particular Bach with whose music he was quite conversant,5 there is the question of whether the interpretation should reflect performance practice of the late 19th century or early 18th century. The great body of Brahms' compositions show that he was a thoroughly Romantic composer of great power. His Classical inclinations, however, restrained him from some of the delicious excesses of, say, a Tchaikovsky. Brahms' "Eleven" require the performance practice of Brahms' age, not the Baroque. When Villa-Lobos' Bachianas Brasileiras, or Dupré's "Chorale in the Style of J. S. Bach" (Fifteen Antiphons), or Franck's Three Chorales are performed--all of which took their inspiration from Bach --the interpretive style should be that of the composer's age, not the 18th century.  So also with the "Eleven." Robert Schuneman makes a key point when he says:

One should not be deceived by the brevity of the chorale preludes, nor with an initial reaction to the printed page which makes them look like chamber music. Their religious nature, the sacredness, otherworldliness, the transcendental quality--all of this is expressed by Brahms (as in other Romantic music) with grandeur, monumentality, and weightiness in terms of organ sound in acoustic space.6

An initial look at the printed page has misled many an organist to think that the "Eleven" are as easy to play as they are short, but Brahms sophisticated writing often seems to jig where the hand wants to jog. Simply learning the notes is the organist's first task.  But it is remarkable how many organists confide that these works are often poorly played even if the notes are correct.  Indeed, Schuneman decried " . . . the stiff, unyielding, ungraceful and ragged performances which are so often heard . . . "7

A Romantic Framework

For idiomatic interpretations of Brahms' "Eleven," it helps to consider them within the context of the 19th century. Born in 1886 in Belgium, the renowned organ virtuoso Charles M. Courboin provides a link with that sensibility. His pupil, Richard Purvis, discusses Courboin's approach:

Courboin always returned to three elemental principles in the consideration of any piece. First, one had to consider the architecture of the work; second was texture; third was emotional content. The architecture was most important. "Where are the high points," he would ask, "and how are you going to do them justice? Where are the transitional points, at which you leave one mood and go to another?"

If the architecture defined the parameters of the piece, the texture was the actual landscape for which Courboin often used visual imagery as might describe an oil painting, an etching or a watercolor.  At other times he would discuss texture in more strictly musical terms: was it contrapuntal, harmonic, a combination of the two?  And what tools were you going to use to emphasize the texture rather than obscure it.  Once you had the architecture and had done justice to the texture, you could then afford to explore the fine points of the emotions you were trying to communicate.  Courboin constantly asked, "What emotions does the piece involve, conjure up, portray?"8

The Brahms Organ

Brahms did play the organ to some degree in the 1850s when he wrote the four early compositions. But as he was never a professional organist associated with a specific organ, there has been an active debate over the years concerning the ideal Brahms organ sound. For example, registrations recommended by Walter E. Buszin and Paul G. Bunjes reveal their ideal Brahms organ to be a Baroque affair on which one should draw no more than one 8' stop per division.9 The result is far from weight, grandeur and monumentality.

A key year in this discussion is 1833, the year of Brahms' birth and the year in which E. F. Walcker completed his first major achievement, a 3-manual, 74-voice trendsetter for the Paulskirche in Frankfurt.10 The Oberwerk had five 8' flues and the Schwellwerk had six. The structure of the 23-voice Hauptwerk was as follows: 32,16,16,16,8,8,8,8,51/3, 4,4,4,31/5,22/3,2,2,13/5,1,V,IV,V,16,8. Walcker built hundreds of organs based on similar principles throughout the 19th century, including a 3-manual, 61-voice instrument built in 1878 for the Votivkirch in Vienna,11 an organ which was certainly known to Brahms as he had settled permanently in Vienna in 1868.  The Oberwerk of the Votivkirch organ had four 8' flues and the Schwellwerk five. The structure of the 23-voice Hauptwerk is: 16,16,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,51/3, 31/5,4,4,4,22/3,2,2,VI,III,V,16,8,4.12 Franz Ebner, who recorded the "Eleven" on this organ, stated:

The instrument on which Brahms' art can most suitably be realized is not the Baroque organ but that type in which the endeavors of the 19th century to attain a full, warm, immediately arresting tone found fulfillment.13

However, a "Brahms organ" does not have to be huge or even large.  As Max Miller pointed out in his article, "The Brahms Chorale Preludes--Master Lesson," the small instruments in every organ culture aspire to the effects of large instruments and thus clearly indicate the idealized sound of the time.14 He offers this 1869 German stoplist in which 60% of the manual voices are of 8' pitch:

Hauptwerk: 16,8,8,8,4,III

Oberwerk: 8,8,8,4

Pedal: 16,16,8.

For a fuller discussion of organ design in 19th century Germany, see Robert Parkins' series of articles in The Diapason: "Rediscovering the German Romantic Organ" (January, February and March, 1989).

Registrations

Robert Schuneman devoted a full page of his Brahms article to excerpts from Hugo Riemann's Catechism of the Organ, which gives an insight into German organ playing from the period 1845 to 1895. This is most valuable reading for those who play Brahms. One of the key concepts is horizontal registrations.  That is, one first combines a succession of 8' stops--from the softest to the Diapason--to create a bed of unison sound to which one adds the Octave, the 16', the 22/3' Quinte, the reed, the 2' and the Mixture in that order. The manuals are coupled to achieve fuller effects, and "gap" registrations like 8'+2' are to be avoided unless the composer has specified it.15

In "Some Thoughts on the Sound of the Organ," John David Peterson offers valuable insights into the ideal Brahms "sound":

Brahms' orchestrations call for a rich blend of dark colors. His favored instruments were the horn, viola, violoncello and clarinet, and his piano works challenge the player to call forth half- and counter-melodies from the tenor register of thick textures. It is not surprising that his organ works share the same sense of musical color.16

The key word which sums up registrations for Op. 122 is "warmth." Thus it is surprising that Robert Schuneman would have said: "Strings, as we know them today [1972], and especially celestes, are not appropriate."17 German 19th century stoplists had many a Gemshorn, Salizional, Fugara and Viola da Gamba and the celesting stops Unda Maris and Voix Celeste were to be found.  If these sounds were part of the organ culture of Brahms' time, and if one of his favorite orchestral effects was massed cellos and violas, what better way can there be to realize Op. 122 than by including strings in the registrations? The quieter chorales--Nos. 5, 6, 8 and 11--are excellent candidates for a celeste. If one has a broad Violoncello Celeste, it might be just the thing for the pedal cantus in No. 10. And how better to let the final notes of No. 11 O Welt, ich muss dich lassen float up into heaven than with a quiet celeste?

Brahms' Markings

While Brahms didn't indicate registrations, he left dynamic indications which, coupled with the precepts in Riemann's Catechism, may well amount to the same thing (see Table 2).

The dynamic markings and performance indications would seem to be clear enough, with the possible exception of "dolce." In Dynamics in the Music of Johannes Brahms, Imogen Fellinger says that dolce implies a weakening of the given preceding dynamic strength, just as expressivo is an intensification of the predominant dynamic strength.18 This may well be so where the dynamic marking is forte. Thus "forte ma dolce" in numbers 1, 3, and 11 would translate "loud but sweetly" or "loud but not strident." However, it seems a bit of a stretch to say that "dolce" in numbers 5 and 8 actually implies a dynamic slightly softer than the indicated "piano." It probably calls for a "sweet" or "gentle" interpretation and has nothing to do with dynamics. In support of this, note that only numbers 2, 7, 9 and 10 are without the "dolce." What is different about them from the rest? Both 2 and 9 are sturdy and forthright (the latter remarkably so), number 7 is a combination of urgency and melancholy, and number 10 is characterized by great pathos.

Tempo

In preparing this article, I studied fourteen organ recordings of Op. 122 and two of the Busoni piano transcriptions of Nos. 4-5 and 8-11. The range of tempi is remarkable. The slowest interpretations of the complete "Eleven" take 42 minutes whereas the fastest last but 21 minutes--half as long, or twice as fast.  The median19 duration was 321/2 minutes. See Table 3.

It is easier and clearer to discuss the tempos of these works, which as Romantic works are subject to considerable rubato, using the duration of the piece rather than metronome indications. The player who wishes to play Brahms musically would be well advised to avoid the extremes of tempo. Speeding through these works with the fastest tempos renders them meaningless and trite, but performances with the slowest tempos lacked energy and were often boring and stultifying. I found it of passing personal interest that the tempos at which I play these pieces are, in most cases, pretty close to the median. These median durations would seem to be a good starting place for those attempting to discover the ideal tempos.

Rubato

In his essay, "Playing Around With Tempo," Robert Schuneman describes tempo rubato:

Most music is mechanical without it in some form. On the other hand, the same music may turn into a caricature of its own intent and content with too much of it poorly applied. It is the most difficult of all musical terms to describe in words, and it takes an extremely sensitive player to use it well.20

As rubato is so difficult to describe in words, I would recommend Arthur Rubenstein's renditions of the Chopin Nocturnes as a most exquisite example of rubato in 19th century music.21

One might divide music into two types: objective and subjective. With objective music, of which Brahms' early a-minor and g-minor Prelude and Fugue are two good examples, if you play all the notes in a reasonably steady tempo, you achieve 80% of the composer's intent.  With subjective music, of which the "Eleven" are an excellent example, if you simply play all the notes in a reasonably steady tempo you realize absolutely none of the musical content the composer put into the work. The worst performances (with the notes played correctly) one will ever hear of Op. 122 are those in which, to paraphrase the popular song, "the beat goes on."

Schuneman makes an excellent point which is quite relevant to Op.122:

With the emergence after 1830 of free forms, program music, salon music, and the seeking out of emotional content over form, declamatory expression (free tempo rubato) became much more indispensable to good performance.  Furthermore, as the 19th  century progressed, tempo rubato became increasingly tied to dynamics. Accelerando means crescendo and vice-versa; ritardando means diminuendo and vice-versa.22

The most important performance points here are that in Op. 122, the beat itself is modified, which is a considerably further modification of tempo than the 18th century notion of rubato, where the melody in the right hand was subject to rubato but the beat in the left hand was not.23

Chorale No. 5, Schmücke dich, provides a clear illustration of the above points. Consider Figure 1, which is a harmonization of the chorale, as it would be sung. The added crescendo and decrescendo markings--not to be overdone, of course--simply indicate what any good choir would do intuitively. This music, all music, for that matter, is meant to be performed expressively. So apply this dynamic pattern to Brahms' realization of the chorale in Figure 2 (expression marks added to the Henle edition). If played on the Swell 8' flues, subtle opening and closing of the swell box is no problem. Per the above discussion of rubato, a subtle accelerando would accompany the crescendo and a ritardando comes with the diminuendo. One might alternatively describe this as a slight increase and decrease in intensity. Then there is the syncopated rhythmic pattern in the left hand which Brahms notated as shown in Figure 3, the way George Bozarth would have preferred to notate it in the Henle edition.24 Then there are the delicious dissonances, Brahms beloved major seconds, which Samuel Swartz always said "Brahms put there to linger over." And finally, there are the notes here and there to which, in expressive playing, one gives agogic accents. Integrate all of this into a performance and one has a small masterpiece. Play it straight on through ignoring these factors, on the other hand, and one has a very trite rendition.

Another excellent example of the necessity for rubato is in Chorale No, 11, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen. The structure of the work has a forte section followed by a piano section followed by a pianissimo section--which is repeated six times. Whether Brahms is simply using a series of echos or is referring to the vigor of youth, the mellowness of middle age and the weakness of old age we cannot know. But all of the pianissimo sections need to end with a ritard and a pronounced pause before beginning the next forte section. It is truly amazing that many play this work as if a metronome were clicking inside their heads, rushing past the pianissimo to get at that forte just in the nick of time. See Figure 4 for the interpretation marks I would suggest, and heed Max Miller's advice:

The variables of building and organ will dictate how much time is to be allowed and how freely the echoes should be taken. The non-harmonic tones require spaciousness and breadth in performance.  Time, for Brahms, has with this last composition ceased its hurry and its very meaning.25

Yet another reason for rubato is to give meaning to one of Brahms' favorite rhetorical gestures, the sigh motiv.  Consider the first four bars of O Gott, du frommer Gott (Figure 5), where the sigh motives are indicated by a bracket.  They are descending in mm. 2-3 and inverted in mm. 4-5.  Played in a metronomical tempo, these gestures are as musical as the regular clicks and whirs of factory machinery.  Played with a slight relaxation of tempo, they define the essence of Op. 122.

Indicated Phrasing

In addition to the dynamic and tempo markings, Brahms indicates a wealth of phrasing. Consider the first four bars of No. 1 in Figure 6. Brahms clearly and deliberately sets out a phrasing pattern which leaves little doubt of his intentions. In No. 3, however, there may be some question about the two-note slurs (see Figure 7). Some organists misinterpret these slurs as phrasing marks, and play the two eighth note figures as an eighth and a sixteenth, with a sixteenth rest before the next group begins. This misguided approach gives a jerky, frenetic sound which is the antithesis of the feeling of the chorale, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen. What Brahms meant by these markings was to give a slight stress to the first note of the groupings of two eighth notes. If strings played this piece, there would be the slightest, almost infinitesimal, pause in the sound as the bows changed direction between the eighth-note groupings. And this is precisely how it should be played on the organ.

It is in the very pianistic No. 4 that the precision markings in the Urtext Henle edition clearly communicate Brahms' intentions--markings which are changed or omitted in some other editions. See Figure 8 for the first four bars of No. 4. The quarter notes in the alto voice form a melody in which some notes are held longer than the precise note values, as indicated by the secondary slurs. In bars 1 and 3 the notes marked A are held for two beats,26 in bar 2 the note marked B is held for five beats, and in bar three the note marked C is held for three beats. This is consistent with 19th  century piano practice.

Leslie Spelman, who has spent a good bit of his extraordinarily long career promoting the "Eleven" in both recital and masterclass, sees a parallel to the above technique in No. 10 (see Figure 9). The notes with the horizontal bars added above them form a melody, and Dr. Spelman suggests holding them beyond their indicated value. The notes with the added slurs are to be held even longer. All the while, observing Brahms' molto legato indication and keeping the pulse nicely articulated in the bass.27 This exquisite chorale is also very pianistic and, in fact, is marvelously realized on the piano with a cello playing the cantus. Organists have been ending this piece with an a minor chord for nearly a century, and the A Major ending in the new editions--correcting an error in reading Brahms' autograph by the original editor Mandyczewski--sounds very strange to ears accustomed to the minor ending. But Henle edition editor George Bozarth points out that all of the minor-key preludes in the "Eleven" do, in fact, end with a Picardy third.28 A pronounced ritard in the penultimate measure and a generous observance of Brahms' indicated Adagio in the final bar does "set up" the A Major chord.

Soloing Out Melodies

In several of the Chorales, Brahms allows a clearly discernible melody in the soprano to move moments later to an inner voice where it can be obscured by the accompaniment above it. For example, this happens in measures 5-6 and 14-16 of Es ist ein Ros' entsprungen and measures 28-31 and 38-41 of O Gott, du frommer Gott. There are two schools of thought on this challenge.  Vernon Gotwals feels it is wrong to solo out melodies because this:

. . . shows an unawareness of the abstract nature of Brahms' conception.  It is wrong to emphasize any voice in the manner of the piano in these organ pieces, as Brahms knew that the melody would be lost when it dipped into the tenor in No. 7 or climbed from tenor to alto in No. 8. His subtle conception is destroyed by those who cannot forebear going beyond his precise registrational directions simply because it is physically possible to do so.29

Of course, this implies that in Op. 122 Brahms' conception was a total departure from almost everything he had written before. In his previous compositions, the pianists, instrumentalists and vocalists were able to emphasize and bring out musical lines in a way most suitable for the performance. I find it very unlikely that Brahms would prohibit emphasis of these obscured melodic lines--in fact, he probably would find the very question incomprehensible.

There are two ways to treat these lines. One can choose "solo" stops of exactly the same character as the accompaniment so that the principal difference between solo and accompaniment is volume, or one can choose a contrasting tone color. The former approach is probably more characteristic, although I must confess that the temptation to solo the tenor portions of Es ist ein Ros' on a Clarinet is very strong. The Clarinet was one of Brahms' favorite instruments, and if one has a nice one it may serve quite well. One doesn't have to play these works exactly the same way each and every time. The tenor melody in Es ist ein Ros' can be played on the pedals as suggested in the Biggs' edition (see Figure 10). But an alternative solution, which Leslie Spelman learned from Joseph Bonnet, is to play both the bass and tenor on the pedals starting on the third beat of m. 5, leaving the left hand free to solo the melody (see Figure 11).30

O Gott, du frommer Gott is one of the longest and most graceful of the chorales. One can very easily play the cantus on the Pedal 4' Chorale Bass. Draw 8' stops (at least the 8' Diapason and flute) on both the Great and Swell and couple them. Thus in the forte sections played on the Great, the Swell box can give an arch to the line. And in the piano sections played on the Swell, the box allows expression and perfect balance whether the solo soars out above or is buried within the accompaniment. The timbre of the Chorale Bass would be quite similar to the Diapason and flute of the Swell, with just a boost to the volume (see Figure 12). For emphasis one can add the Swell 4' Octave in measures 22-26, 50-54 and during the final five bars, but there is no indication that the forte section with which the work concludes should be significantly louder than the forte section with which it begins.

Repeated Notes

In the slower of Brahms' chorales, repeated notes in the soprano and bass should always be articulated, but there are some decisions to make about the inner voices. No. 11 O Welt, ich muss dich lassen is an excellent case in point. Though instances occur throughout the piece, the final three bars with their implied molto ritardando are critical. One might very well separate all the repeated notes in a room with five seconds reverberation. But see Figure 13 for a suggestion of adding ties on the inner voices to have the feeling of repetition without choppiness. This is not to say that Brahms should "ooze." In mm. 24-25 of the same chorale are two instances where added phrasing marks in the left hand and pedal can help set up the ending (see Figure 14).

Conclusion

Brahms' Chorale Preludes are very special compositions. As Fenner Douglas once observed, it's too bad for organists that Brahms didn't have a church job for a while, so that we might have more works from this master. I would urge those interested to seek out the cited articles by Bozarth, Gotwals, Miller, Peterson and Schuneman for a broader scope and fuller understanding of the problems and possibilities these works present. Playing these works expressively on the piano is also very helpful, as is experimenting with legato and super legato touch on the organ. Those who unlock the secrets of Op. 122 will not just have gained eleven lovely pieces for their repertoire--they will have learned things of inestimable value which they can apply in countless other works. n

Appendix: Survey of Opus 122 Recordings

The Early Recordings

Of the four late '50s and early '60s recordings, the best are by Robert Noehren and Franz Eibner, but none of them leaves you wishing for a reissue on CD. Dr. Noehren's Brahms (Lyrichord LLST 7123) is well played with sufficient rubato and convincing transitions between sections. But both of the Noehren organs he recorded on were totally unenclosed 2-manual organs with Positiv rather than Swell. The lack of a swell box and absence of registrational variety limited this recording.

Franz Eibner (Teldec SLT 43018-B) had the best organ of the early LPs. The 3-manual, 61-voice Walcker in Vienna's Votivkirche dates from 1878 and was certainly heard by Brahms. The organ's sound--with its rich palette of flutes, strings and principals--is most appropriate to Brahms. Eibner's playing, though consistently a bit stiff, borders on satisfactory, with suitable rubato at times but some awkward transitions. Some chorales, like Schmücke dich, he trots through with no regard to musical subtleties.

The other two early recordings are very disappointing. Karl Richter's recording on the Steinmeyer in the Herkules-Saal in München (Deutsche Grammophon 138906 SLPM) features a most unattractive organ sound. His registrations overemphasize screechy upperwork and de-emphasize the fundamental, sometimes creating a "music box" effect. Richter's playing is completely insensitive to the music, charging right through Opus 122 from start to finish.

Kurt Rapf's recording on the organ of Vienna's Ursulinenklosters is even worse, with an organ sound lacking fundamental but featuring prominent chiff on the manuals and a loud, deep and murky pedal sound. The plenum on No. 11 has searing mixtures, snarly reeds, booming bass and no "middle." Rapf's playing displays the fastest tempos at which these pieces have ever been recorded. All of the notes are there, but none of the music.

The Best of the Modern Recordings

(Note: All the CDs except Arkay include the complete works of Brahms.)

One of the most satisfying recordings to date is by Carole Terry on the 4-manual Flentrop of St. Mark's Cathedral in Seattle (Musical Heritage Society MHS 512523M). Blessed with a rich palette of principals and flutes in a gorgeous acoustic, the organ has a fine sound although the pair of Gemshorns on the Swell are a far cry from real strings. This recording was made before the recent rebuild added a wonderful 32' Posaune to the Pedal and an 8' Trumpet to the Great, plus enabled the 32' Prestant to actually speak. Ms. Terry's playing is simply elegant. She has a real empathy with Brahms and uses rubato and phrasing to create a truly musical result. The two settings of Herzlich tut mich verlangen are the high point of the recording: No. 9 is quite virile on a big registration and No. 10 is the essence of sensitivity.

Another fine recording on LP, unfortunately out of print, is by Bernard Lagacé (Titanic TI-38).  He recorded Opus 122 on the 1977 2-manual 23-voice Wolff organ in New York's Eighth Church of Christ Scientist. The neoclassic design has its limitations for Brahms, but Lagacé uses it fully and well. His playing is inventive, lively and sensitive.  Hopefully this recording will be reissued on CD.

Nicholas Danby made an elegant recording on the organ of the Church of the Immaculate Conception in London (CRD 3404). This 3-manual 44-voice organ is of some historical interest, having been built by Anneesens in 1876, rebuilt by Bishop in 1914, and completely remodeled in 1926 by Henry Willis III to the designs of G. Donald Harrison and Guy Weitz (organist from 1917 to 1967). Its virile plenum (with tierce mixtures), typically English reeds, rich foundations and colorful flutes make for a varied listening experience. Unfortunately, Danby failed to use the two sets of strings, but his playing is imaginative, solid and sensitive. A high point is an attractively up-tempo rendition of Herzlich tut mich erfreuen with well handled transitions between the forte and piano sections, and a sensible (that is to say, slight) volume differential between the sections. All in all, a rewarding experience.

The Interesting Middle Ground

Georges Athanasiadès has made a charming recording on the huge 103-stop Jann organ of 1989 in the lush acoustics of the wildly Baroque Basilica of Waldsassen (Tudor 790). It missed the first tier only because of a severe lapse of taste on the chorale No. 1, where the cantus in the pedal is registered on flue stops plus a set of tubular bells--the effect is ghastly. But in the remaining ten chorales, Athanasiadès proves to be a resourceful player who provides the most tasteful registrational variety of all the recordings. In Herzliebster Jesu and O wie selig he goes to an extraordinary effort to solo out the melody--unnecessary, but interesting and not at all unpleasant. He makes tasteful use of the tremulant on the pedal cantus of the second Herzlich tut mich verlangen and on a splendid rendition of Es ist ein ros'. In the final chorale he exhibits a sensitive balance between the forte, piano and pp sections, with a very attractive string celeste based pp section. Clearly Mr. Athanasiadès has many good ideas and much to offer on this CD.

Jean-Pierre Leguay, one of the four titular organists of Notre Dame in Paris, has made an impressive recording on the monumental 4-manual 1890 Cavaillé-Coll at the Abbey of Saint Ouen in Rouen (Euro Muses 590073 AD 184).  This organ--lavishly equipped with diapasons, a great variety of flutes, several sets of strings and reeds galore--is actually not far from what one might consider an "ideal" Brahms organ. All the stops are colorful, and there is a great amount of variety in the 8' range. The massed unison stops, which are exhibited in Herzliebster Jesu, sing beautifully. For a climactic effect, nothing in the recorded literature of Opus 122 quite matches the final section of the first chorale, where Mr. Leguay adds the 32' Bombarde to an already grand plenum. Some of the chorales, Nos. 4-6 and 11 for example, are given a rather indifferent treatment, but O Gott, du frommer Gott sparkles in a high-energy high-volume treatment with reeds in both the forte and piano sections. A tasteful Es ist ein Ros' alternates a beautiful string celeste with a quiet flute. Opting for contrast and clarity, Mr. Leguay gives the pedal cantus in Herzlich tut mich verlangen to a Trompette. This recording is recommended for generally excellent playing and a quite stupendous sound.

Jacques van Oortmerssen chose the 1906 Setterquist organ of the Kristine Church in Falun, Sweden for his recording of the works of Brahms (BIS-CD-479). This 2-manual 30-stop instrument is based on the French Romantic organs of Cavaillé-Coll, but the sound is a far cry from St. Ouen. There are some lovely individual stops, but the plenum with pedal is murky and a 2' Octava sticks out rather than blending. Oortmerssen's usually elegant playing is uneven, with one chorale singing and soaring and the next plodding quirkily along. He does observe the implied crescendo in O wie selig and builds to a satisfying forte.

Herman Schäffer chose a 4-manual 92-stop 1911 Steinmeyer at the Christuskirche in Mannheim for his Brahms recording (Motette CD 10711). This instrument offers generally attractive sounds and great variety, but Schäffer's playing is uneven. Herzliebster Jesu has no energy and a painfully slow O Welt, ich muss dich lassen (No. 3) falls flat, but these are followed by an energetic and stylish Herzlich tut mich erfreuen.  Schäffer loves contrast, and solos the melody in Schmücke dich on an oboe, the pedal cantus in Herzlich tut mich verlangen (No. 10) on a trumpet, and the melody in O wie selig on a Nazard combination (with the bass played on a heavy and murky 16' pedal). In Es ist ein Ros', Herzlich tut mich verlangen (No. 9) and O Welt, ich muss dich lassen (No. 11) the contrast between the forte and piano sections is far too great. Within these works, however, there are registrations of great beauty, including some luscious string celestes. In sum, the playing and interpretations are uneven and the largely original historic organ is of interest.

Recordings Of Lesser Merit

One might think that recording Brahms on a 1965 4-manual 56-stop Marcussen organ would give a thin, chiffy and uncharacteristic sound (Nimbus NI 882 286-909). On the organ at the Odense Domkirche this is not so, although the upperwork (used only in the first chorale) is too intense. Kevin Bowyer's registrations prove that this instrument can give an appropriate sounds to Opus 122. His playing is another matter, though--tempos seem either to be too fast or too slow. For example, he makes a race out of Herz-lich tut mich erfreuen. But whether the tempo is fast or slow, he doesn't offer much more than the notes. In O Welt, ich muss dich lassen (No. 3) he misinterprets the slurs over the two eighth note groups for a very choppy result. His favorite chorale would seem to be Herzlich tut mich verlangen (No. 10), as he gives a very sensitive performance of it (at 4:38 the slowest of all the recorded performances) with a lush sound and a lovely articulate solo flute with tremulant for the cantus solo. Would that the other ten chorales had had this degree of attention.

Jonathan Dimmock recorded Opus 122 on a 2-manual 26-stop Frobenius at St. Stephen's Episcopal in Belvedere, California (Arkay AR 6113). A visceral involvement with the music seems to be missing, and there are some note problems. Dimmock followed a basically conservative approach to registration, passing on the opportunity for a true forte even for No. 9 Herzlich tut mich verlangen. Although he did make good use of the Gambe Celeste in two chorales, it was an unfortunate choice to solo the melody in O Gott du frommer Gott on the Swell Oboe, because this precluded a significant contrast between the forte and piano sections, a key element of the work.  Whereas O wie selig is satisfying with a nice Oboe combination, No. 11 O Welt, ich muss dich lassen receives a perfunctory performance without the crucial implied ritards between the pp and forte sections.

Robert Parkins recording on the large Flentrop in the Duke University Chapel would seem to have a lot going for it (Naxos 8.550824). A lush acoustic, large organ, talented performer. Large as the Flentrop is, however, is has no expressive divisions and no strings--one wonders how Opus 122 would have fared on the spectacular Aeolian at the front end of Duke Chapel. Parkins gets around this limitation well, however, and the massed 8' tones provide needed warmth. His tempos are the key problem--Nos. 1, 2, 3, 7 and 9 are or are among the slowest tempos on record. The energy of these pieces drains away and you are left wanting to shout "Get on with it!" Balance this criticism with artful performances of No. 4, 6, 10 and an especially sensitive rubato in No. 11. Interesting though flawed, but at a bargain price.

Rudolph Innig's performance of Opus 122 has little to recommend it (Dabringhaus and Grimm MD+GL 3137). The 3-manual Klais organ at St. Dionysius in Rheine is a lightweight neoclassical design with lots of mutations which Innig, unfortunately, uses.  His interpretations feature separated pickups, which are decidedly un-Brahmsian, and a general lack of sensitivity to the music.

 

Notes

                  1.              Heinz Becker, "Johannes Brahms," The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 1980, Vol. 3, p. 161.

                  2.              Peter Williams, Review in The Organ Quarterly.

                  3.              Anonymous essay on "Brahms' 11 Chorale Preludes" on Lyrichord LP (LL 123).

                  4.              E. Power Biggs, Preface, Brahms' Chorale Preludes, Mercury Music Corporation, 1949, p. 2.

                  5.              Becker, op. cit., pp. 173-174.

                  6.              Robert Schuneman, "Brahms and the Organ," Music/The AGO-RCCO Magazine, September, 1972, p. 34.

                  7.              Schuneman, op. cit., p. 34.

                  8.              Jonathan Ambrosino, "Lessons with Dr. Courboin--A Conversation with Richard Purvis," The Erzähler, Volume 4, Number 3, January, 1995, pp. 3-4.

                  9.              Brahms' Complete Organ Works, ed. by Walter E. Buszin and Paul G. Bunjes, Edition Peters.

                  10.           Peter Williams, The European Organ 1450-1850, published by The Organ Literature Foundation, 1967, pp. 94-95.

                  11.           Vernon Gotwals, "Brahms and the Organ," Music/The AGO-RCCO Magazine, April, 1970, p. 42.

                  12.           Günter Lade, Orgeln in Wien, Austria, 1990, p. 184.

                  13.           Franz Ebner, Program Notes to Teldec LP: SLT 43018-B.

                  14.           Max B. Miller, "The Brahms Chorale Preludes Master Lesson," TAO, April, 1979, pp. 43-46.

                  15.           Schuneman, op. cit., pp. 32-33.

                  16.           John David Peterson, "Some Thoughts on the Sound of the Organ," The Diapason, April, 1981, p. 16.

                  17.           Schuneman, op. cit., p. 34.

                  18.           Imogen Fellinger, Uber die Dynamik in der Musik von Johannes Brahms, (Berlin and Wunsiedel: Hesse 1961), p. 20. Translated by and cited in Schuneman, op. cit., p. 34.

                  19.           The "median" is the middle value in a distribution of data--half of the times are shorter and half are longer than the median.

                  20.           Robert A. Schuneman, "Playing Around With Tempo," The Diapason, May, 1970, p. 16.

                 21.           Arthur Rubenstein, The Chopin Nocturnes, RCA 5613-2-RC (two CD set).

                  22.           Schuneman, "Tempo," op. cit., p. 16.

                  23.           Peter Hurford, Making Music on the Organ, Oxford University Press, 1990, p. 67.

                  24.           George S. Bozarth, "Brahms Organ Works: A New Critical Edition," The American Organist, June, 1988, p. 56.

                  25.           Miller, op. cit., p. 46.

                  26.           Less a brief "lift" on the first quarter note in measure one, so it can sound again on beat three.

                  27.           Leslie Spelman, in a February, 1995, masterclass.

                  28.           Bozarth, op. cit., p. 57.

                  29.           Gotwals, op. cit., p. 48.

                  30.           Masterclass, February, 1995.

Permission to reproduce segments from Werke für Orgel granted by G. Henle Verlag.

 

Other articles of interest:

Franz Liszt and Johann Gottlob Töpfer: A Fruitful Relationship in Weimar

Théodore Dubois and César Franck at Sainte-Clotilde

Brahms Opus 122 in score

by Robert Noehren

I imagine that many of you here are wondering how it is to be 90 years old. You may be saying to yourself, "poor fellow, he'll be lucky if he lives another five minutes," and how right you might be. In contrast, think of the extravagance of years that many of you are enjoying. I remember my younger years when I didn't give a care in the world for the days, the months or the years as they passed by, and I certainly never gave a thought for the end of my life. Then again, I might just be as happy as you, regardless of your age. Why? Because I concentrate on living one day at a time, and I believe we make the mistake throughout our lives in not doing just that. I try not to think about tomorrow or even next week. When I awake in the morning, I realize I still have my health and senses, and I have the whole day ahead of me. I reason further I shall probably also have tomorrow and perhaps another whole week, but today is the day, and I am going to make the most of it, regardless of responsibilities or problems that I might have to deal with. I am determined also to have at least several hours to do as I please.

 

I have never suffered from picturing myself as an old man, and, in fact, I have never thought too much about my age, and would certainly never admit that I am an old man. Fundamentally I feel much the same as I did at 20, 40 or 60. I had even gone through most of my eighties rather innocently. The doctors put me together again on several occasions, and yet I assumed that life would simply go on. But now I was approaching 90! I thought again about today. How shall I make it as interesting as possible? I began to wonder, what about music? How do I listen to music? I asked myself, do I really ever listen to music simply for the pleasure it might bring me? Am I neglecting something that my profession never offered me? Perhaps I should make more of an effort to listen to music, not for any other reason than simply to bring me pleasure; these reflections finally introduced the idea of setting aside a given time each day just for the pleasure of listening to music.

Listening to music

I planned to sit in the comfortable luxury of my living room, make no effort to concentrate, select some music and simply be there with no distractions to divert my attention. During my career I had been so often irritated by incidents when music was carelessly listened to; I recalled how often I myself had been guilty of not listening to music attentively. I would be with a friend or a colleague talking constantly, often, of course, discussing the music as we presumably listened to it. I recalled too that on other occasions I might be alone reading, again often material about the music I was hearing, but I became more aware than ever that conversation and reading were always a distraction. I was not about to spend my life doing something that looked like more work, and decided with my new plan to listen to music only in the same spirit as if I were reading a detective story or playing a game of checkers. On occasion I might be tired and even fall asleep. If it so happened that the music passed me by, the hour still would be a time of rest and relaxation. I was intent on keeping the hour quiet, and to be in an environment that would at least encourage me to focus on the music. Within the limits of my quasi-discipline, I found this surprisingly easy and pleasant to carry out.

It has worked. I was behaving like an amateur and enjoying it. My interested often shifted to one of curiosity, reminding me of my youth. I began listening to a far wider range of music and constantly trying to find and enjoy the musical ideas and how they were being handled by the composers, not only great ones, but more often unusual or lesser composers whose musical ideas intrigued me. As I listened to music for pleasure I enjoyed many surprises and I was rarely bored. Listening to music every day in this way also served to expose me to music I had rarely listened to seriously.

Over time I stopped playing all of a large work. In suites, sonatas, or symphonies I found myself instinctively listening to one or two movements more interesting than others. I rarely listen to Mozart, although an occasional movement from a quartet or a piano sonata is sometimes refreshing. I was determined too to make my listening a constant source of pleasure. After all, it does take time to listen to music, and my interest in new music forced me to be more selective.

This plan for listening has brought music to me in a new and refreshing way. I have always believed that music is the most fascinating world of all, and I feel sorry for those people who are unable to know music as I have experienced it. Just think of the orchestra. It is unbelievable that there are now hundreds of good orchestras throughout the civilized world, and the sound of the best is dazzling. This compared to orchestras as I knew them 70 years ago. I remember an early recording of Bruckner in which the intonation of the orchestra was almost intolerable. I lived in Buffalo and the orchestra there was still largely made up of amateurs. Today it is close to being a major orchestra. Even the best orchestras those days were no better than second-rate orchestras today. I believe it was Stokowski with the Philadelphia Orchestra in the '30s and '40s who first raised the level of musicianship in the orchestra.

Ideas on repertoire

There are so many riches in music; many of them do not rank high on a musicologist's list. So many fascinating composers have come on the scene in our time; I think of Honegger, Messiaen, Korngold, Mahler, Hindemith, Dutilleux, in America Barber and Ruggles, in England, Bax and Walton and, of course, Reger and even Karg-Elert. Not necessarily Reger of the big organ fantasies, although there are exciting moments. Imagine instead Reger with the string quartet! He has written five and the best of them is wonderful music. And Reger wrote for the orchestra; a large and wonderful Serenade, and the beautiful Variations on a Theme of Mozart. There is nothing like it anywhere. Then there is Bruckner, still virtually unknown in America; one of my favorites of his is the last movement of the Fifth Symphony. It is an amazing work! Another is the Rachmaninoff Third Piano Concerto. It is fairly well known but still not fully appreciated. It is a remarkable piece of music, and to this day, one of many works still often maligned by the critics.

But after I have said all this, I realize more than ever how narrow my musical tastes have been. For example, in recent years I have been exposed to the wonderful and diverse music of Boris Blacher, almost completely unknown in this country, and I continue to wonder why he has remained so obscure. A contemporary of Hindemith, they both at one time taught at the Hochschule in Berlin. I now have about 15 CDs of his music. Even after a lifetime as a professional musician, I can't tell you how this new approach to music has affected my life and virtually changed my outlook on music.

We can't be happy all day. Even when retired, as I am, there are still responsibilities to attend to. We have to take care of our families and ourselves as usual. Nevertheless, as I awaken in the morning, I am soon aware that I have something to look forward to--listening to music. It compensates for the music that we are compelled to hear in the outside world--background music, almost impossible to avoid. Hindemith aptly described it as "musical garbage."

Eating well

I have still more to help make my day. We all have one thing in common: we must eat to live, and I have thought for a long time that what and how we eat has a lot to do with our happiness; in fact, it has a lot to do with our psyche, our personality, our health, and our whole being. It is, after all, at the center of our lives. Now, like my hour of music, I have learned to anticipate and appreciate the dinner hour as another source of happiness in my life, and, in fact, I am able to enjoy over the whole day, breakfast, lunch and finally dinner in the evening. But dinner is the climax, and it has become an event to look forward to every day.

Strangely enough, just as most people do not really listen to music seriously, I believe there are millions in our society who have a careless attitude toward food and thus only eat to live. Much of the time they are only vaguely conscious of the taste of food. They eat to assuage their hunger, and it is mainly hunger which determines what they eat. This drives them to eat too much and too carelessly. Shopping for food is not easy and many folks are even afraid to go into the kitchen. They are torn between the fast food business, the supermarket and food supplements that the nutritionists, pharmacologists and doctors persuade them to take for their health. They suffer from worrying about food for their health, and this conflicts with their desire to eat for pleasure. The ritual of eating three meals a day has almost disappeared. Many Americans say they are not hungry in the morning and only drink coffee at breakfast and in their cars on their way to work, a practice that does not make it easy for their digestive system and, in fact, hardly contributes to their psychological well-being. Lunch is taken on the run at fast-food restaurants and dinner is again fast food on a tray as they sit at the TV. I often wonder if this careless behavior of eating and its psychological consequences have something to do with the great prevalence of cancer in our society. Who knows?

At the other end of the spectrum we have the gourmet restaurant which is gradually eliminating vestiges of simple food. Even if you speak French or Italian fluently you will often find it hard to understand the menu. Its language is neither English, French, Italian nor Russian. Basic ingredients are camouflaged, and often mixed together indifferently, while the chef is trying his best to overwhelm you with the thought that you are eating like a king. The waiter is a salesman persuading you to eat this or that dish as he tries to describe the menu. Many of the clients at such a restaurant are back in their usual routine the next day eating no breakfast, a fat hamburger at noon and the TV tray at night. The food on the tray may sometimes be good, but the diner is distracted by the TV and not in a receptive mood. Americans are eating badly and perhaps every third person you see on the street is overweight. There is little joy in their eating, and many are suffering through an unhealthy diet trying to lose weight. Often when they do eat, they temporarily forget they are on a diet.

My friends, eating well and sensibly is not easy to do. But I contend that eating good food, like art, music, or literature, can be a source of great happiness, and incidentally a boon to good health. I have become interested in nutrition during the last years. At first I was listening to the nutritionists, worrying about my health, but eventually was convinced that there is no easy solution to knowing what is good for us. One soon learns that there are a thousand different opinions and no one really knows yet what exactly happens to food as it passes through the digestive system. Notice that no one tells you in precise terms how much food to eat, or how to eat. The nutritionists are presumably concerned about your health and by some hook or crook they are determined to see that you will receive the necessary food and food supplements to make you the healthiest person in the world. Big business happily joins them in this effort. In the beginning I believed in a careful diet, but I gradually came to believe that it didn't much matter what we eat if our appetite approves, and concluded that our biggest problem is that we eat too much and rarely make a practice of enjoying our food. I now believe that these two facts may be the cause of so much poor health. Moreover, it seemed to me that my health would prosper if I encouraged my appetite to help me decide what to eat. If eating is to be an art, I believe that one must become more aware of the taste of food and to lessen the demands of hunger. Like listening to music, I concluded that I should simply eat for pleasure, that the secret for good health is to eat less food and vary my choices from day to day guided by my appetite. After all, why not make eating every day a constant pleasure? I became interested at first in the most basic foods. I eat small meals, taking care not to eat between meals, and to have no health-conscious taboos about any food that appeals to my appetite. (Sugar is perhaps not good for you, but it will also do you no harm.) It is interesting to note also that conclusions about the danger of consuming too much salt are still mixed. Likewise, there is nothing wrong with coffee if you don't drink it all day. To eat with a changing variety of food in small amounts, no one food is likely to have a bad effect on one's health. I am trying to make eating an art. I don't mean that I indulge in fancy foods. Quite to the contrary, I try to forget the word gourmet. Using the best ingredients, the flavors of basic foods can be wonderful and as enticing as the concoctions one often finds in a gourmet restaurant. I ignore the cookbooks and their complicated recipes. I think of the simplest of foods, and they require no recipes to prepare. I had forgotten the wonderful flavors of the simplest foods: a roast chicken, string beans sauteed in good butter, a baked potato, a fresh tomato, especially at the height of the season, a fine little tenderloin steak, broiled lamb chops, pork tenderloin, fresh asparagus, or raspberries with rich cream. This is all food that scarcely requires preparation. I have planned lunch and dinner over an eight-day period and my shopping to serve such a period. This then can be repeated for another eight days.

Relaxing is as important as eating; to promote good health, food needs to be comfortably digested, and this requires relaxation when we eat. A troubled person is not likely to be relaxed. To be relaxed, one must be content, at least somewhat optimistic and reasonably happy to enjoy eating. I believe living one day at a time is more likely to develop a constant approach towards relaxation and contentment. This may be the crux to good health--not what we eat. Relaxation and digestion are subjects rarely discussed by the nutritionists. To begin with, I look forward to a simple breakfast, an egg, toast and coffee, and take the time by rising early to enjoy a very relaxing hour, reading the morning paper over a second cup of coffee. The routine I have described here encourages me to take the time to enjoy a good breakfast, lunch and dinner, the basis for the relaxation I need. In sum, I try to think only of the enjoyment food will bring me. I believe then that my health will take care of itself.

A few last words

I have had a successful career, but I have also had failures and disappointments. I had hoped to write music, but I never made it. I wrote a few pieces that I like and belong to me, but I was never able to sustain the ability to compose. I built organs for 24 years and enjoyed it immensely, but this was an effort to assuage my frustrations with the organs I played during my recital career. They rarely suited my musical conceptions, so I tried building organs that would. I voiced all my own organs and believed that the art of a good organ builder is his ability as a voicer. I built some instruments that particularly reflected my style of playing and my conception of a good organ.

I admire perfection. In my listening I want to hear only the best performances and the best sound an instrument and its player can realize. From the beginning of my career I cared less for success than the constant satisfaction I enjoyed in an effeort to do the best I could. However, I do not set myself up as a paragon of perfection. I live comfortably with my shortcomings. They are part of my life. They do not bother me, and I accept them without regrets.

I am sure I might have been just as happy with less success. If you are like me as I was during my younger days, please observe my thoughts here. As organists, if you do not yet have the skill to play a Bach fugue, be glad that you can at least play the organ, but make your playing an art whether you are an amateur or a professional. Simply accept your talents and ability as they are and make the most of them. Choose simple pieces, even hymn tunes, and try to play them just as beautifully as possible. And only choose music you like. Be critical with yourself and make great effort to please yourself. Don't just play the organ, but focus on doing what you do with a concept of what perfection means. Try to play, whatever it is, a hymn tune or a simple piece, just as beautifully as possible. I believe you will enter into a new richness in your lives, and you will enjoy the effectiveness of your playing. Don't think in terms of practicing, just keep trying to play beautifully and you will be more likely to achieve good results. I could have been quite content as an organist in an obscure parish church playing small easy pieces perhaps limited by an average technical ability. My pleasure then would have been in the effort to play them just as beautifully as possible. I believe we are too easily carried away by the applause and kudos that we hope will eventually come our way. I soon realized that there might be greater rewards. In any event, I early on became interested in the pursuit of perfection. I remember in my first church position, I practiced the hymns every day of the week for the next Sunday's services. In those days I was not yet able to play a hymn tune with ease. I had to practice them. Even from a technical point of view, I was proud when I could get through a service without any wrong notes. Once I had a vision of what perfection meant, I practiced the hymns and voluntaries until I was sure they were done as well as I knew how to do them.

My friends, in this new year, I would hope each of you will make a wonderful little world just for yourselves. We all hope to be happy, but that is not enough. Don't only base your life on such a hope. Instead, really make an effort to be happy and optimistic, as I try to do. Use strategies, as I have, to make your day fulfilling, and make the most of every day of this precious gift of life. Living your life too with artistic purpose, with a sense for the meaning of perfection, I believe, is the best way to keep a healthy mental outlook on life in this difficult but amazing world.

 

About the Author

Robert Noehren celebrated his 90th birthday on December 16, 2000, and continues to be active as an organist and author. This past year witnessed the release of a remastered CD of his recordings on the large organ he built at St. John's Cathedral in Milwaukee (The Robert Noehren Retrospective, Lyrichord LYR-CD-6005) and the book, An Organist's Reader: Essays (Harmonie Park Press). Robert Noehren has enjoyed a career as recitalist, scholar, teacher, composer, and organ builder. He was for many years chairman of the organ department and university organist at the University of Michigan, has made more than 40 recordings, authored numerous articles, and built more than 25 pipe organs throughout the country.

by Gordon Atkinson, William Bolcom, Phillip Burgess, James Hammann, Michele Johns, James Kibbie, Gal

Marilyn Mason celebrates her 80th birthday on June 29. She was born in Alva, Oklahoma, on June 29, 1925. Dr. Mason is University Organist, Professor of Music, and Chairman of the Organ Department at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. Her affiliation with Michigan began in 1944 as a pupil of Palmer Christian, and she later completed the MMus degree at Michigan. She spent time in France, where she studied under Nadia Boulanger (analysis) and Maurice Durufl? (organ), and in 1954 she earned the Doctor of Sacred Music degree at Union Theological Seminary in New York.
As an undergraduate, she was awarded the Stanley Medal, the highest award given to any music major. Later, in her teaching career, her colleagues presented her with the Distinguished Faculty Award, and music alumni awarded her the first Citation of Merit. During her time at Michigan, annual summer and fall Conferences on Organ Music have become regular highlights. She has led more than 50 historic organ tours abroad, and the Marilyn Mason Organ was created in a specifically designed recital hall in the School of Music. The organ, built by C. B. Fisk, is a replica in the spirit of the instruments of Gottfried Silbermann.Marilyn Mason has made a lasting impact in her distinguished career as concert organist, teacher, lecturer, adjudicator, consultant, recording artist, and by the nearly 75 organ works she has commissioned. Dr. Mason has performed on every continent, save Antarctica. She was the first American woman to play in Westminster Abbey, the first woman organist to play in Latin America, and the first American to play in Egypt. She has served as judge at nearly every major organ competition in the world. Her dedication to contemporary organ music is evidenced by the names of prominent composers who have written for her: Albright, Bolcom, Cook, Cowell, Creston, Diemer, Haines, Jackson, Johnson, Jordan, Krenek, Langlais, Lockwood, Near, Persichetti, Sowerby, Wyton, Young, and others. In 1987, Dr. Mason was awarded the degree Doctor of Music honoris causa from the University of Nebraska. In 1988 she was chosen as Performer of the Year by the New York City chapter of the American Guild of Organists.We join the contributors below in wishing Dr. Mason a most happy birthday.
?Jerome Butera

The gift of friendship

The time: July or August, 1957; the occasion: TheInternational Congress of Organists; the place: Westminster Abbey, London.

The Royal College of Organists hosted a meeting of organistsfrom around the world, with soloists from the American Guild of Organists, theRoyal Canadian College of Organists and the RCO. Many distinguished playerswere heard, and the recital by Marilyn Mason was greatly anticipated. Theprogram included Leo Sowerby?s Classic Concerto for organ and orchestra conducted by the composer.The stylish and polished performance by Dr. Mason, exemplary in every way, wasa highlight, her playing all the more telling as the abbey organ at that timehad only one general piston.

Later in the week at a garden party on the abbey grounds,heavy rain sent delegates running for shelter, and it was in the safety of thecloisters that I first spoke with Dr. Mason--and I was immediately awareof her warmth and interest towards a recently graduated organ student.

I had no thought of leaving England, but in the followingyear I accepted a church appointment in Canada. In 1959 Dr. Mason played aprogram at Metropolitan United Church, London, Ontario, which included theRoger-Ducasse Pastorale, a piece she hadmade her own, and the much underplayed Suite of Paul Creston that she had commissioned.Afterwards, in the line of listeners to say ?thank you,? Dr. Masonsaid, ?I remember you, where?? ?Running from the rain atWestminster Abbey.?

The University Organ Conference became a yearly fixture forme following the first in 1962 with Anton Heiller as the featured player. Whocould forget his lecture-recital on Orgelbüchlein?  Overthe years many European and North American organists made great contributionswith their lectures, demonstrations and performances.

Having played hundreds of recitals throughout the world,taught and encouraged hundreds of pupils in almost 60 years at the Universityof Michigan, Marilyn?s ability for friendship is one thing that sets herapart. Her legendary technique, her ability to get to the core of the music, isalmost superseded by her rare gift of friendship.

The 50 U-M trips to historic organs of Europe, eye and earopeners, are arranged so that members can hear the 18th-century north Germanorgan builders, those of the south, or the wonders of France from the Clicquotsto the Cavaillé-Colls. Doors are opened, organs made available, becauseof Dr. Mason?s reputation and her extensive network of players in theorgan world.

As a former student I say thank you, Marilyn, for yourinspiring teaching, the many walks through the ?Arb? (AnnArbor?s Arboretum) to the School of Music, the innumerable meals andconversations, your delightful sense of humor, your love of poetry and analmost  lifelong friendship.

Many are in awe of Dr. Mason?s musicianship,championing and commissioning of music for our instrument. I appreciate hercare and concern for all people she meets.

--Gordon Atkinson

At the time he left England, Gordon Atkinson was organist atSt. John the Baptist Church, Holland Road, Kensington, London, where among hispredecessors were Healey Willan and William Harris. A former president of theRCCO, Dr. Atkinson now lives in Melbourne, Australia.

Gospel Preludes

This past century has seen an enormous growth in challengingnew organ music, and one of the most influential virtuosi and proponents of neworgan music is Marilyn Mason. She has encouraged so much new music from so manycomposers, and I especially thank her for her extensive performances andinsightful teaching of my own music. She has commissioned several of my mostimportant organ works and has always championed them, and this is precious to acomposer--maybe the work will have a life! But no work has a life withoutthe right performance, and her doing the right performance for me and so manyothers, long dead and still living, is what makes Marilyn Mason so extremelyspecial.

--William Bolcom

Ross Lee Finney Distinguished University Professor of Music,The University of Michigan

A student for life

Once you have studied with Marilyn Mason, you study with herfor life. Yes, you may graduate, but you are never far from her constantguidance and care. During my years with her, I found that in one breath shecould correct my articulation and registration and also inquire if my checkbookwas balanced. Never overly critical, she could find ways to correct andencourage at the same time. And her analogies were priceless. Once afterplaying a particular piece, she thought for a moment and said to me,?hearing you play that piece like that reminds me of someone trying toeat peas with a knife.? Dr. Mason is a tireless teacher dedicated to theentire well-being of her students. As other students can attest, she insistedthat each of us have a church position. For her, a learning experience is notsufficient without a practical application. And you earn money. How convenient!

Dr. Mason also insisted that all of her students be able tocook. Although I never mastered the art, Saturday mornings were dedicated tobread baking in her Ann Arbor home, and her famous baguettes accompanied nearlyevery meal. Her equally famous ?green punch? was a fixture atnearly every reception or party! While not always green, the punch was seldomwithout its admirers.

Traveling remains an important part of Dr. Mason?slife. Her organ tours, numbering over fifty at this point, have exposed many tothe famous organs of the world. On each tour, a mix of music aficionados andstudents embark upon a life-changing experience. Through her generosity, manystudents are able to receive scholarships to help them defray the cost of thesetours, a benefit not lost on many. As a student, I traveled on five tours. Itis one thing to read about the organs of Spain, France, and Italy and be toldwhat they sound like. But to actually play and spend time on the instruments isquite another matter. As any tour member can tell you, Dr. Mason knows thatwherever you travel in the world, the most important person is the man with thekey! Once while in Rome, I found myself on the bench at St. Peter?s.Being told by the organist that we had only a little time, each of us rotatedon and off the bench while Dr. Mason kept the keeper of the key distracted.Playing last, I was quite prepared to finish my pieces and leave. Turning to mefrom a distance away, she told me to play ?longer and slower . . . theycan?t kick us off the bench while the music is going.?

As many of us have experienced over the years, I have foundProf. Mason to be a completely approachable and unselfish person. In constantcommunication with students and colleagues, whether through her famoustypewriter or e-mail, any problem musically or otherwise is given thoughtfulconsideration. As a ?second? mother and extension of my family, sheoften invited us into her home for holidays and special events. During times ofillness and strife, her home or studio was often filled with moments of prayeror words of encouragement. 

As Prof. Mason approaches this milestone in her life andcareer, I see no sign that she is slowing down. Indeed, following her for a daywill leave you intellectually challenged and mentally and physically exhausted.I could go on and on recounting our times together, but instead I will simplyclose with her most famous quote. ?Remember students, your performanceisn?t over until you are in the parking lot.? Dr. Mason, pleaseremember that as well, and God bless you for another eighty years.

--Phillip Burgess

Phillip Burgess holds MM and DMA degrees from the Universityof Michigan, and is currently organist/choirmaster of St. Luke?sEpiscopal Church in Salisbury, North Carolina.

Marilyn?s maxims

One is not around Marilyn Mason for long before it becomesapparent that one is in the presence of a walking ?Poor Richard?sAlmanac.? Just as Ben Franklin filled the minds and hearts of colonialAmericans with short pithy phrases that helped them cope with the practicalrealities of life on the frontier, Marilyn has helped several generations oforgan students navigate the treacheries of left hand and pedal, church musiccommittees, and the beginnings of musical careers with similar phrases for boththe particular and the universal.

When our concentration flagged during a long fugue we werereminded that, ?The performance is not over until you are in the parkinglot.? When we were pondering career options and had not put forth theeffort of sending out that additional résumé we heard, ?Youcan?t accept a position you haven?t applied for.? In themiddle of a long project, or when our devotion to duty wavered, Nadia Boulangerwas quoted: ?You must do your little bit each day.? Marilyn tellswith relish the story of an admirer who gushed in a receiving line after one ofher recitals, ?You are so lucky to play so well.? Her reply was,?Yes, the more I practice, the luckier I get!? 

Some of the sayings have universal application.?Timing is everything? works for the shaping of sonata allegro form, knowing when to make thatrecommendation call to the chairperson of a search committee, or when it istime for a joke during a tedious meeting.

Then there is the short ejaculation,  ?How convenient!? Thisphrase was quickly adopted after it was uttered by an organist demonstratinghow to change stops on a Rückpositiv where the knobs were located on thecase behind the organ bench. The organist twisted herself into a pretzel andexclaimed ?See how convenient these are.? The irony and humor werenot lost, and this two-word phrase now highlights most any situation, just asan ?Amen? can be used after a prayer of thanksgiving, supplication,or devotion.

Well, Marilyn, timing may be everything, but somehow timejust doesn?t seem to apply to you. For one thing,  time stands still when we are aroundyou. Your constant activity, love of life,  infectious enthusiasm and devotion to the world of music ingeneral and the pipe organ in particular keep us entranced. Fifteen years aftermost people retire you have just produced another recording, premiered a newwork in New York and Paris, and are preparing for another historic organ tour.This is all in addition to your normal duties as professor of organ andchairman of the department. Just as Ben urged his fellow citizens to create agreat country by improving themselves, we are reminded to do the same by yourexample, your devotion,  your loveand care for us, and all of those maxims. HOW CONVENIENT!!!

--James Hammann

James Hammann teaches organ and theory at the University ofNew Orleans. He is director of music for The Chapel of the Holy Comforter, andruns his own maintenance business for pipe organs in the New Orleans area. Heearned the DMA in organ and church music from The University of Michigan in1987, where Marilyn Mason was his primary teacher.

A lady of firsts

The first American woman to play organ in Westminster Abbey(900th anniversary of the abbey).

The first woman to play organ concerts on five continents inone year.

Her reputation for innovation, learning, and sharing throughteaching traverses the world. She refreshes the art of organ playing throughthese excellent traits. As an example to her students she is alwaysregenerating herself with new ideas and new ways to learn.

I have been privileged to study with Marilyn Mason throughtwo advanced degrees during a particularly creative and innovative time in thehistory of American organ-playing: the so-called Early Music Revival. (Severalyears earlier, I had made her acquaintance during the founding of the Ann ArborAGO chapter.) During this time of revival, Marilyn organized the University ofMichigan Summer Keyboard Institute (now celebrating its 25th year), whichfeatured the venerable Peter Williams--author, performer, and innovativethinker. Due to his great mind among us, we always left the Institute with morequestions than answers! Also at this time, Dr. Mason won for herself auniversity grant to study organ-building in Europe. Thus, Professor JamesKibbie and I, as graduate students, were privileged to be her researchassistants visiting organbuilding shops and major instruments of more than adozen builders in Germany, France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Denmark.During these travels we personally witnessed her seemingly limitless capacityfor learning and refreshing her thinking. This single event was the start ofthe famous Historic Organ Tours, the 50th of which she recently completed. Whata way to learn about historic organ performance practice. The instruments arethe great teachers!

Impressive accomplishments for Dr. Mason, but let?slook some decades earlier. Marilyn Mason had played many of these instrumentsin the early years after World War II. She knew the importance of studyingoriginal instruments and European musical thinking. Thus the annual U-MConference on Organ Music was born in 1960 and has flourished ever since. Theconference has always featured European artists who  performed and spoke about the music of their particularcountry. Along with these visiting artists came Lowell Riley, an American whohad spent years photographing European organs and who brought to us dazzlingslide shows of great masterpieces of organbuilding.

MARILYN MASON: fresh-thinking, Energizer-Bunny energetic,humor-filled, highly spiritual, and totally committed to teaching students ofall ages.

Innovations

* performing the Alain Trois Dances with a troupe of U-M dance majors

* performing the Dupré Chemin de la Croix with narration of the famous poem by Paul Claudel andaccompanied by a PowerPoint presentation of great works of art depicting theStations of the Cross

* performing the complete organ works of J. S. Bachthree times in 1985 accompanied by slides of the actual music being played.

Quotes

?I always love a meal that someone else hascooked!?

?Your recital isn?t over until you are in theparking lot.?

?I was once introduced as Marilyn Monroe.?

?See if you can get somewhere near the rightnotes.?

?When you study with Dr. Mason you have to learn tochop veggies.?

Seen and heard

Baking French bread, stacking it in the basket on herbicycle and riding around to give fresh bread to neighbor friends.

Attending Bible study sessions in the neighborhood.

Talking her way through customs after visiting France,trying to explain that those plastic bags in her suitcase were not marijuanabut herbes de Provence.

Her famous ?Joke Book? which was stolen atRiverside Church one day.

My all time personal favorite

Professor Kibbie and I were tape recording in a Europeanchurch and asked Marilyn to run the tape recorder. She was confused: turn thetape over and then rewind or the other way around? Things didn?t work outcorrectly and we lost some of our research. I tried to cheer her up, saying:?Dr. Mason, you were a Phi Beta Kappa, remember?? She apologizedquietly and said, ?It was a low moment. They were taking everyone!?

--Michele Johns

Dr. Michele Johns is adjunct Associate Professor of Music,the University of Michigan School of Music.

The same as ever

Recently, the University of Michigan?s cable TVchannel rebroadcast an interview with Marilyn Mason first televised in 1977.The interviewer?s long hair, wide collar and bell-bottomed trousers aredated, but Marilyn looks remarkably as she does today. She demonstrates theorgans in her studio and Hill Auditorium with masterworks of the repertoireplayed from memory and talks of her love for the instrument and its repertoire,including the new music she has commissioned.

People around the country often ask, ?How is MarilynMason?? The answer is, ?The same as ever,? as that oldvideotape demonstrates. After more than 50 years on the faculty of theUniversity of Michigan, she is still as active and engaged as ever, performing,teaching, leading organ tours, confidently spinning off new ideas, championingour students, and promoting her vision for our profession.

Birthdays can sometimes be an occasion to reminisce, butMarilyn herself doesn?t often engage in that sort of retrospection.She?s far too busy making new plans and promoting new projects. So forMarilyn?s many friends and former students, perhaps I can suggest someother appropriate ways to observe her birthday:

* Attend one of her concerts (easy to do, since sheplays almost everywhere)

* Buy another of her recordings (a new one has justbeen released)

* Play for one of her masterclasses

* Go on a U of M Historic Organ Tour

* Perform a new work for organ, or better yet,commission one

* Attend the U of M Organ Conference or SummerInstitute

* Make a donation to the Marilyn Mason ScholarshipFund at the University of Michigan

* Tell a joke

* Raise a glass.

Like many other former students of Marilyn Mason, I claimher as one of the most important people in my life. I look forward to many moreyears to enjoy her as mentor, colleague and loyal friend.

--James Kibbie

Professor of Organ

The University of Michigan School of Music

Joie de vivre

On the occasion of her 80th birthday,  all best wishes  to an energetic, enthusiastic andremarkable lady and teacher!

When I came to Ann Arbor 37 years ago to study organ,Marilyn?s sons were small enough to crawl behind the sofa when studentscame to her house. Now my grandson is crawling behind the furniture and Marilynis still entertaining students. The years have passed but her vitality andwonderful energy remain. Her jokes have changed but her joie de vivre has not.Longevity alone, if that were all there was to it, has allowed her to affectthe musical careers of hundreds of students, from the United States toSingapore!

But there is more to her endurance than longevity. Her ownprofessional development has never stopped. Marilyn has always kept up with thetimes. Her teaching reflects the traditions of Palmer Christian and JeanLanglais, but it has followed as well the trends of Bach playing through thedetaché 1980s and it has included the revived understanding of classicFrench organ style that made alternatim and Grands Jeux household words amongher students.

Presentation is everything, she has said, in music and infood. What she taught us about stage presence she modeled for us inface-to-face presence. A very few enthusiastic words in a foreign languagecoupled with her smile have opened doors of understanding with guests both hereand abroad.

Good health and a healthy appetite go hand in hand with herlove of life. For years the teacher who explained the grand manner of theFrench tradition rode to work on her bicycle. Travelers on her University ofMichigan historical organ tours will remember her legendary ability to catch ashort nap on the back seat of the bus and to rise refreshed and ready to climbto the next organ loft. The anticipation of the sound of a Cavaillé-Collorgan is always matched by the joy of savoring a great wine and a cassoulet deProvence.

Let?s see--endearing, entertaining, energetic,enthusiastic, enduring--I shouldn?t forget e-mail. Possibly herfavorite mode of communication enables her to stay in touch with students oftoday and yesterday and with traveling companions from more than 25 years ofEuropean tours. I?ll be sending a birthday greeting to her e-mail addressand I know it will be answered promptly and with  enthusiasm!

--Gale Kramer

Metropolitan Methodist Church, Detroit

New recording

For several decades, Marilyn Mason has enjoyed a singularlydistinguished and influential career as a recitalist and teacher, which hastaken her to major venues throughout the world. No other organist has been asactive as Dr. Mason in commissioning and promoting new music.

Her latest CD, Paul Freeman Introduces Marilyn Mason, consists of three 20th-century organ concertos andthe  William Bolcom?s GospelPreludes, Book Four. Assisting Dr. Mason isthe first-rate Czech National Symphony Orchestra under the able leadership ofthe American conductor Paul Freeman.

The three concertos were recently recorded in Prague?sDvorák Hall in the Rudolfinum on the 1975 Ceskoslovenske hudebninastroje organ, the first four-manual organ in the Czech Republic built withmechanical key action. The concertos include Emma Lou Diemer?s Concertoin One Movement for Organ and Chamber Orchestra (?Alaska?), which was premiered in 1996 at the Universityof Alaska with the composer as soloist. For this reviewer, the main interestlies primarily in the rhythmic vitality and divergent musical references toEskimo, Hassler and Hebrew themes.

Leo Sowerby?s Classic Concerto for Organ andStrings (1949) was played at the 1957International Congress of Organists in London at Westminster Abbey with Dr.Sowerby conducting and Dr. Mason at the Harrison & Harrison 1937instrument. (Mason, along with David Craighead and the late Robert Baker,represented the United States at the congress.) In this sprightlythree-movement work, Sowerby brings the classic form of the concertoharmonically into the 20th century, and certainly with it, romantic overtones.After a half-century it still wears well.

One of the Czech Republic?s leading composers, PetrEben, is represented by the 1982 Organ Concerto No. 2, a work in two sections. Technical demands are madeon the performer to successfully bring off this work; Dr. Mason does it withher usual aplomb.

The Bolcom Three Gospel Preludes are played on New York City?s RiversideChurch?s justifiably acclaimed 216-rank Aeolian-Skinner-Adams-Bufanoinstrument. The three preludes are based on the hymn tunes ?Sometimes IFeel Like a Motherless Child,? ?Sweet Hour of Prayer,? and?O Zion Haste? and ?How Firm a Foundation.? Theseskillfully crafted works, which are performed with great sensitivity by Mason,were recorded in 2003 and produced by Michael Barone for Minnesota PublicRadio?s Pipedreamsbroadcasts.

The CD is available for $15.98 (plus shipping) from theOrgan Historical Society; 804/353-9226;

<www.ohscatalog.org&gt;.

--Robert M. Speed

Robert M. Speed is Professor of the Humanities Emeritus,Grand View College, Des Moines, Iowa.

A tribute to a beloved icon on her 80th birthday

?Set dates come.? This was one of the manywatchwords for life that I learned from my mentor, Dr. Marilyn Mason, all thoseyears ago. On June 29 another wonderful ?set date? willarrive--her 80th birthday, and what a joyous occasion for exuberantcelebration! Of course, those of us who know and love Marilyn are keenly awarethat this legendary lady is totally and completely ageless--that at eightyshe possesses more energy and wit and mental acuity than most forty-somethingscould ever dream of having. Her incredibly successful career continues at fullthrottle. Students from around the world still flock to her door, and they arerewarded with unsurpassed educational, musical and personal experiences thatwill sustain and empower them throughout their careers and lives. Attending oneof her performances or master classes, traveling on her fabulous historic organtours or just spending an hour visiting with Marilyn Mason today is still asinspiring and energizing today as forty years ago. 

Wonderful memories engulf me as I anticipate this special?set date.? A host of Marilyn Mason axioms resurface: ?setdates come; it?s those thin pieces that are hardest; the performanceisn?t over until you?re in the parking lot; the most importantthing is how well you know the music; miss one day of practice and you cantell, two days and your friends can tell, miss three and your entire audiencecan tell; never pass up a chance to visit a restroom,? and countlessothers.

I remember prayers just before going onstage, rolls ofpeppermint Lifesavers backstage at intermission to provide an energy boost forthe second half, and her omnipresent encouragement and support. I rememberstudio classes when, if we urged persistently and strongly enough, Marilynwould sit down and whip off flawless performances of the Alain Dances, theSchoenberg Variations and the Bach D-Major, all at one sitting, by memory, withtotal ease. I remember the historic organ tours, the group recitals in Europe,the joy of being students under Marilyn?s wing again. I remember howMarilyn invited my husband and me to her home for prayers and shared tears overbreakfast when we learned that our dear friend and colleague, Carol Teti, wasdying. I remember the warm hospitality of delicious meals and cozy eveningsspent in Marilyn?s home . . . and always I remember the laughter--thenever-ending supply of wonderful jokes and hilarious true stories she hascollected during a lifetime of optimism and joyous adventure. New generationsof student scholars continue to reap this bounty every year.    

I am Marilyn Mason?s student, and I will always be herstudent; anyone who is privileged to work under Marilyn?s tutelageremains her student for life. Marilyn Mason?s musicianship isunparalleled, her scholarship and intellect are impeccable, and the breadth anddepth of her experiences are endless. However, even more priceless than allthese gifts combined is the example that she sets in every aspect of herprofessional and personal life. Every day of Marilyn?s life is aninspirational example of all that she teaches. She works harder and more energeticallythan most of her students can possibly manage; she demands even more of herselfmusically and personally than the high standards she sets for her students; sheinspires her students to do even better than their best, because she alwaysdoes her best. Marilyn is deeply religious, but instead of preaching, shedemonstrates her faith through her example of flawless ethics and morality, herselfless dedication to service and her genuine respect, tolerance and affectionfor all whose lives she touches. These long years later--after all themusical knowledge and skill, all the professional opportunities, all theteaching methods, performance techniques and tricks-of-the-trade that haveserved me so well throughout my teaching and performing career--it?sthe example that Marilyn sets that has been her greatest gift of all to me. Iam humbled and deeply grateful for the privilege of having studied with MarilynMason, for having my own students go on to earn doctoral degrees with her, andespecially for the honor of calling her my friend.

Happy 80th birthday, Marilyn! Please continue sharing yourimmeasurable gifts and boundless energy with students at The University ofMichigan and with your loyal admirers throughout the world for manyyears--through many ?set dates? to come. I hope I receive thespecial honor of being asked to write a message to you again on your 90th.

--Mary Ida Yost

Mary Ida Yost is Professor Emerita of Music at EasternMichigan University. She received the Master of Music degree at The University ofMichigan in 1964 and the Doctor of Musical Arts degree in 1970, both as astudent of Marilyn Mason.

&R?

Marcia Van Oyen

Marcia Van Oyen earned master's and doctoral degrees in organ and church music at the University of Michigan, where she studied organ with Robert Glasgow. She is the organist and director of music ministry at Glenview Community Church (UCC) in Glenview, Illinois, and is past Dean of the North Shore AGO. She also writes for Choir & Organ magazine and JAV Recordings. More information is available online at .

Elizabeth and Raymond Chenault have blazed a trail for the art of the organ duet, enchanting audiences with their enjoyable performances and charming personalities and ensuring the future of the genre with a wealth of commissioned repertoire. When you meet the Chenaults, an easy rapport develops immediately, and you feel as if you've known them a long time. They are genuine, sincere, fun-loving people, and these qualities feed their mission to connect with people through their music.

Both their career as duo organists and their marriage span nearly 30 years. Natives of Virginia, the Chenaults attended Virginia Commonwealth University, marrying after graduation in 1972. Ray attended Cincinnati Conservatory to earn a master's degree, and they both studied organ with Wayne Fisher during that time. Following his master's studies, Ray spent a year as organ scholar at Washington National Cathedral. The Chenaults moved to Atlanta in 1975, taking the positions of organists and choir masters at All Saints Episcopal Church, where they direct the music program and concert series. A year later, positions at the Lovett School--Ray as director of fine arts and choral director of the Upper School, Beth as choral director of the Middle School--rounded out their professional life. The Chenaults are managed by Phillip Truckenbrod Concert Artists.

I talked with them while they were in town to play a concert at the Glenview Community Church.

MVO: How did you get started performing duets?

Beth: When we started giving recitals, we thought it would be fun to play together because we're married. That was how we got started. Thomas Tomkins, the 16th-century British composer, wrote one of the earliest known organ duets, A Fancy for Two, which we programmed on our recitals. Early on, when we commissioned Gerre Hancock to write a piece, he took the same title, A Fancy for Two. Sometimes we would play both of those duets because we didn't have enough literature. We would play solo organ literature and put a few duets on the program.

Ray: When we began to research duet organ literature, we found there wasn't a lot written. There are theses and dissertations that have identified unpublished manuscripts of duets, but we focused on what was published. There was so little of it that we decided to start commissioning works.

MVO: So you started commissioning music not only because you wanted to, but also out of necessity.

Ray: Right. The idea really came unexpectedly. In 1978, Dr. Arthur Wills from Ely Cathedral in England played a recital on our concert series at All Saints Church, Atlanta. The second half of the program comprised his own music. I really liked what I was hearing, so after the concert I asked him if he'd be interested in writing us an organ duet. He immediately accepted and that became our first commission.

Beth: Toccata for Two is one of our favorite pieces and we premiered it at Washington National Cathedral.

Ray: Next, we asked John Rutter to write Variations on an Easter Theme for us which we also premiered at Washington Cathedral. We found out that audiences, organists and music critics were very excited about the duets we were commissioning. In fact they still are almost 25 years later. Now we have over forty commissions that we've either arranged or had written for us. Three CDs later, we've recorded a lot of our own works and have the Chenault Organ Duet Library that's been published by Belwin Mills. Our mission is to get the work out there and leave a body of work for organists to perform and audiences to enjoy.

MVO: Do you play your duo repertoire for church services, or do you stick to solos?

Beth: For church services, we've played Callahan's Evensong, Philip Moore's Allegro, and Variations on an Easter Theme by Rutter.

Ray: We use almost all our repertoire, except the secular pieces, for preludes and postludes.

Beth: We have even played The Stars and Stripes Forever for the postlude near the 4th of July. Our former rector, the Right Rev. Harry H. Pritchett, Jr., played the cymbals and the entire congregation would cheer him on.

Ray: Talk about fun for the congregation--the minister playing cymbals. That's one time they all stay for the postlude. When the minister hits the first crash of the cymbals the congregation will break into applause, I can assure you.

Beth: It's just great fun and a wonderful way to make organ music and the organist more accessible to the parishioners.

Ray: Charlie Callahan has already written two compositions for the first Sunday when we'll play the new John-Paul Buzard pipe organ at our church for services on All Saints Sunday this November 2003. One of these is a duet postlude on Sine Nomine.

MVO: When commissioning a piece, do you give the composer specific ideas or do you let him have free rein?

Beth: We've done both. When we first started, we had some definite ideas. With Philip Moore, we asked him to listen to our recital at Yorkminster Cathedral and make a suggestion about what we might need on the program. He suggested sonata-allegro form, so he used that form for the third movement of the Triptych which he wrote for us over a time period of five years. This wonderful composition works nicely as a larger work in three movements or by featuring one of them in concert.

Ray: Being a bit of a composer myself, I believe it's important for the composer to have inspiration for a piece or a particular theme, because then you get your best music. In general, we're open-minded and accepting of whatever a composer feels inspired to do. We've been very happy with most of our commissions and they're all very different. It's wonderful to see composers being inspired by what they want to write. Take The Emerald Isle for instance. Charlie Callahan's homeland is Ireland. When he found out we were going to be recording our second CD at Washington Cathedral--he knows that organ very well, he lived in Washington--he said he knew exactly what he wanted to write--a piece based on Londonderry Air. He was inspired to write one of our most appealing organ duets. He never missed an opportunity to extract every ounce of beauty from that popular theme. Being from Ireland, it had a very special meaning for him.

Beth: Nicholas White has just written an arrangement of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera for us.

Ray: We wanted something fun for our audiences and Phantom is our favorite musical. Nick lives in New York. He loves musical theatre and plays jazz, so he was the ideal choice for this commission. When we commissioned him the first time, we specifically asked for an arrangement of Shenandoah, because Beth is from the little town of Shenandoah in Virginia. We love that beautiful folk tune and our audiences love it, too.

Beth: The Shenandoah River goes through my hometown, and some of the piece was cleverly written by Nick to sound like the rippling water. He also throws in Moon River and Strangers in the Night for added pleasure.

MVO: Do the composers usually give specific registrations in the scores?

Ray: Mostly they're very specific about what they want. Occasionally, they just give dynamic levels and registration suggestions. A lot of times we'll go back and ask them specifically what they want. It's a lot easier if they are specific, then we can take creative license, depending on the organ.

Beth: We've often had coaching sessions with the composer. Conrad Susa made only dynamic suggestions in Canticle. So we found it very helpful to play the duet for him and get his immediate feedback to our interpretation and registration.

Ray: Stephen Paulus has written for us Triumph of the Saint, a large symphonic type three-movement duet, which had only dynamic suggestions. We met with Steve and then he gave more specific registration suggestions. He waits to hear the piece first. It's fun to get the composer's input and ideas. You learn so much from them.

Beth: On the other hand, in the score of Rhapsody, which we premiered in Atlanta for the 1992 National AGO Convention, Naji Hakim was very specific.

Ray: He was specific to the stop, and it's rewarding to recreate that, even though his work is written with the French organ sound in mind. Some American organs do that more successfully than others, but you create that sound as best you can when you get to different instruments. Some of the composers write for four feet, some have Beth do most of the pedaling because she's sitting on the left hand side. In the Naji Hakim piece, we both have double pedaling which is an added sonority.

Beth: At one point in the last Allegro movement of Philip Moore's Triptyque, Ray almost gets off the organ bench as I move all the way up to high E on the pedalboard. The balance issue really comes into play and both players must be totally in sync in such instances.

Ray: You'll see me almost get up and stand beside the bench while I'm still playing just to get out of Beth's zone. She, at that point, becomes a solo player because the pedal work is the main focus. The full pedal resource is featuring the melody, and we're doubling the manual parts. Beth moves to the top of the pedalboard and then all the way back down. I just have to get out of the way. It's particularly entertaining for the audience at that moment.

Beth: Philip Moore could have chosen to write that for Ray but that's what makes each composer's assignments for the duetists challenging.

Ray: Most composers have not written organ duets, and they're curious as to the format and idiosyncrasies. Therefore, we generally send a couple of our duets so they can see how it works. It helps to clarify so much before the first note is even written.

MVO: They must need some kind of a primer about how physically the duet can work.

Ray: Of course, there isn't a primer for writing duets. That's when our previously written duets become an invaluable composing document sampler. Sometimes we go back to the composer and tell them that doesn't work. We'll make suggestions based on our experience. Usually they're happy to do what is needed, perhaps dividing up the territory differently than written. Also, if the piece really doesn't work, then we have to go back to the drawing table again. Most composers get it figured out with only slight revisions. It's a fascinating process.

MVO: I recall you mentioning that you need a 3-manual organ in order to perform your repertoire. Do you ever have to turn concert requests down because the setting won't work?

Beth: We had to turn one down last year because it was a two-manual organ. We used to play on two-manual instruments, but it's too hard as we need more keyboards and tonal colors to bring out accompaniment and solo lines. If you have two or three themes going at the same time, you wouldn't hear them on a two-manual instrument.

Ray: We have done some concerts on two manuals, and we have to do creative arranging of the duets to make it work. But a small two-manual organ is just too limiting. If it's a fairly large two-manual organ, it's possible, but we would have to be very careful with the selection of repertoire. We wouldn't be able to showcase the commissions the way they were intended to be performed.

As you can imagine, as we play more concerts and build our repertoire, there are certain types of duets we want, and we go to trusted composers who will write what we need for our programs--some more contemporary, some more audience friendly. It's important to reach all of your audience members. Hopefully each audience member will take away something from our concert that feels special to them, and perhaps that will bring them back to another organ concert.

MVO: What do you think about when you're putting a program together? What makes it a good concert?

Ray: A primary consideration is to be sure the pieces fit the unique qualities of the organ and acoustic. The longer we're in this business, the more we find our audiences are people who want programs that speak to them. They want performers who communicate and move them emotionally.

Beth: We know we are a unique couple--unique as a husband and wife offering an entire program of organ duets--all commissioned or arranged for us. Audiences are already open to our special fare. That gives us a wonderful opportunity to perform a program filled with musicality and warmth. Our concerts strive to connect with many human emotions.

Ray: We might draw people to our duet organ concert that the ordinary solo performer may not. Husband and wife duets? What's this?

Beth: Oh, are there two organs? Four hands, four feet? It's a curiosity.

Ray: People say, you're duo organists, does that mean you play two instruments? We could have gone that route, but look how much that would have minimized our performing venues. So we specialize in duets for two organists at one console. That works. We may attrtact fifty people to a recital who may never have been to an organ concert, who come out of curiosity.

Beth: Part of our mission is to get them to come back.

Ray: We purposely program music that is very audience friendly. But we also know that AGO members will attend and they want to hear something that's highbrow. So we do a mix, all the way from Naji Hakim's Rhapsody--fascinating and unique--to Londonderry Air or Shenandoah or Stars and Stripes. We begin our programs with more contemporary music and generally progress towards audience-friendly selections.

Beth: It has been interesting when we've played our Litaize Sonate à Duet commission. I just love it, but a lot of musicians will say, "Goodness, that's really modern isn't it?" I don't hear it that way, even when we read through it the first time. If musicians don't always like the piece, we might not play it on programs.

Ray: We have to be very careful when we program music by Litaize. At an AGO convention, which is where we did the premiere, you've got people present who understand and appreciate this kind of literature, mainly because they have had more university training. A lot of them are used to playing works of that nature, so they would appreciate it. But if you go to a small community that might not be used to hearing a lot of sophisticated organ music, it might turn them off. You've got to be very careful and sensitive to the nature and backgrounds of your audiences.

Beth: For a long time, a lot of people were turned off to organ music.

MVO: Let's talk about that. Some people say it's the fault of organists because they're not doing what they need to do to reach audiences, and organists complain that their concerts are not well-attended. How do you see the picture?

Beth: I think things are turning around. Organists play so many recitals for other organists. While that is wonderful, and you want your colleagues to come, that's not always who supports what you're doing. You've got to play something for parishioners and folks in the community. I don't want to be a lightweight, but I want to play something that average people can enjoy, something that will encourage them to come back again for another program, or maybe go out and buy a CD of organ music.

I love Messiaen, but you can't play 45 minutes of it, except maybe on your graduate recital. You can't play that kind of program for the average community of people who are coming to support your church that has a new pipe organ. They might not come back again.

Ray: We saw that happen at an all-Messiaen program many years ago.

Beth: People left in droves at intermission.

Ray: The die-hard organists stuck it out because they knew what they were hearing and it was a unique opportunity. Even many of the local organists left.

Beth: Many people didn't come back. They talked negatively about that recital for a long time.

Ray: We heard them say, "I'll never come back to another organ concert." That just breaks your heart. We really work hard at programming. Appealing programming and good playing is the absolute secret to making audiences feel good about an organ concert. People know that our programs are going to be warm and friendly and the audiences respond favorably. After the concerts, people tell us it was the most enjoyable organ concert they've ever attended. I don't know whether it's our playing or the fact that we're husband and wife or the repertoire or a combination of all these things. The longer we're in the recital business, the more we find that our mission is to bring people to organ concerts and to inspire them to come back again.

Beth: And come back to your church concert series. Because you may have not only organists performing, but also other types of concerts or events offered for your community.

Ray: For instance, particularly since 9/11, often for encores we play a duet by Charlie Callahan called Evensong. It's based on the Tallis Canon and Ar hyd y nos, two well-known evening hymns with prayerful and meditative texts. With all the war talk in our world, we're all feeling scared. After playing Evensong many people comment on how appreciative they feel for this calming musical offering. It's not anything that you can put into words, but when we play those two beautiful tunes and the organ ends very quietly, you can hear a pin drop. It leaves people in a very warm place, and somehow feeling that maybe things are going to be okay.

Beth: The Ar hyd y nos hymn text ends "Sleep my child, peace be with you, all through the night."

Ray: We played Evensong on a concert the day Desert Storm started. Beth and I were weeping as we were playing it. It was a very special performance. We played it a couple of weeks ago as well for an encore and again, with the talk of war with Iraq, it became quite emotional for us to perform it.

Beth: Ray is from Fredericksburg, Virginia, and recently there had been the sniper attacks. When we had gone to Virginia for his aunt's funeral, we stopped at the gasoline station where one of the men was shot. So that was fresh on our minds.

Ray: Evensong is an illustration of the kind of repertoire that we've commissioned over the years. We have duets in our repertoire that we can perform for the occasion or respond to what is happening in the world.

Beth: If you want something in particular, we've got enough variety to fill the request.

Ray: We've been ending our concerts with The Stars and Stripes Forever. Since 9/11, Americans have become a lot more patriotic and appreciative of what we have in the United States.

Beth: American musicians need to promote more American music.

Ray: One of our missions is to promote American music. It's not that we don't commission outside of the United States, but we primarily concentrate on encouraging American composers to write by giving them an opportunity through our duet commissions. This is a valuable lesson I learned from one of my former teachers, Dr. Paul Callaway. Paul premiered many choral and organ works as organist/choirmaster of Washington Cathedral. Perhaps there is no finer legacy for a musician.

MVO: How do you work on learning music?

Beth: First, we work the duet on the piano individually and learn the keyboard parts first, then take it to the organ adding the pedaling and registration. Then we'll put things together slowly, working on problem areas and interpretation. When we first started, we would take turns switching Primo and Secondo parto, but we found it was difficult because as a duet performer, your center is off anyway. It's easier to get to one side and stick with it. At least, that works best for us.

Ray: I usually tell an audience that playing duets is like driving a stick shift car but from the passenger seat.

MVO: Do you have certain roles? Does one of you perhaps work more on registration?

Beth: Ray primarily does registration and I go out in the performing hall to listen and make suggestions.

Ray: I'll be the one at the instrument trying things. It's great to have another pair of ears in the room. We've all been in a solo situation where the organ chamber is halfway down the nave and you can't hear balance. In our situation, even though obviously I can't play all the parts, I can play enough of the duet so that we know what it sounds like once Beth resumes her role of performer.

Beth: As we spend more time with each instrument in a two- to three-day period, we continually tweak our initial registrations.

Ray: We collaborate on everything. We don't need a page-turner because we very carefully work out who turns the pages, who pushes the pistons, who works the expression boxes. It's very carefully orchestrated to avoid a mid-air collision.

Beth: Also, we work together on the programming.

Ray: And we'll go shopping together for Beth's performing outfits. We really collaborate on everything--our career, our jobs, our marriage. We're right there together. We are amazingly compatible.

MVO: Tell me how you collaborate at All Saints Church and the Lovett School.

Beth: Ray is the organist and choir master. I accompany the anthems and service music. Usually I'm at the console and he's conducting.

Ray: Beth is the associate organist/choirmaster and she never gives herself enough credit for what she does. We'll divide the choir rehearsal and do sectionals. She does that at the Lovett School as well. We co-direct the three high school choirs and she is also the accompanist. She trains the middle school choirs, which is a great feeder program for the high school, and she takes rehearsals for the high school choirs when I have administrative duties as director of fine arts. At church, I do most of the conducting, but Beth does most of the accompanying of the anthems and a lot of the preparatory sectionals. We share the preludes and postludes on Sunday morning, and we share the hymn playing.

MVO: You're working together at school, at church, and you're performing together. What makes that work? You must have your moments.

Beth: We're together so much, our personalities just gel.

Ray: I know people think I'm lying when I say this, but we are so compatible, it's almost unbelievable.

Beth: I miss him I if I don't see him for two or three hours.

Ray: We're soul mates and we knew it the moment we laid eyes on each other.

MVO: It shows.

Ray: One of the great joys of playing duet recitals it that we get to travel together. That's a real bonus. When we first started, before we developed the duet repertoire, I was under management as a solo artist. I would go on two or three-week tours and I really missed Beth and discovered that concertizing wasn't nearly as enjoyable without her by my side.

Beth: It's no fun traveling alone, sitting in some hotel room by yourself.

Ray: We get to share all of these things. If we ever have a cranky word for each other it's usually when we've been through a long day and we're both just exhausted. I can count on one hand the few little spats we've had and they've been so minor it's not even worth talking about. We're very fortunate and know it.

Beth: It is true.

Ray: God knew what he was doing when he put us together. We're very grateful for the opportunities we have.

MVO: Your collaboration seems to feed everything you do. It certainly isn't an encumbrance, a feeling of being yoked together. It's just the opposite.

Ray: Exactly. It wouldn't work for everybody. Some people say I'd be divorced by now if I had to spend that much time with my mate! And many of them are!

MVO: I've noticed something else that I believe is part of why people love to come to your concerts. You've created an image for yourselves. You're glamorous. [They both laugh.] I must tell you this story. A year ago, I was discussing concerts for the next season with my music board. None of them had ever heard of you or heard you play. I had just received your new publicity photo, so I showed it to them. The board's immediate response was a vote in favor of you coming to play a concert here. [Uproarious laughter.] I offered to get some recordings for them to review, but the response was, "No, that won't be necessary, we can just tell they would be really good."

Ray: Gosh, the power of that photo.

MVO: Clearly, you put in the effort to make your performances something special. Beth, I love the glamorous gowns you wear. I think organists could stand to do more of that. Would you dress that way anyway, or do you consciously make an extra effort for your performances?

Beth: One of our dear departed friends, Emily Spivey, a very elegant lady and wonderful organist and the powerhouse behind that fabulous concert hall, Spivey Hall, just south of Atlanta, gave us great advice early in our careers. Emily taught me the importance of glamour. She actually told me what to play and what to wear. She was a southern grand dame. She said people love to see glamour, and with organists, often you either see their backs or you don't see them at all. Emily said, "Spice it up, honey."

Ray: People want to know you're going to sound good, but ultimately, I think they want to connect with the artist more than anything else. As we all know, most of the time we're stuck in the balcony or behind a screen. In a church situation on Sunday mornings we're in a choir robe. We're sort of untouchable people--like in the Wizard of Oz, the person behind the curtain. People want to have contact with the artist. The first image they're going to have is just as you've expressed. They're going to see the picture our agent distributes. They will either be drawn in by that image or not. When we're all out there in a pool, a large body of artists and organists, there's got to be something that's going to draw them to you. We enjoy the glamour of it, but just sitting here, the three of us, we like this as much as anything. In fact, the best part of having the opportunity to concertize is getting to meet great people like you.

Beth: I love that.

Ray: Our greatest mission is to make contact with people like you--to get to know wonderful musicians, to have the opportunity to meet an audience and talk with them afterwards and shake their hands. And you become a family to us once we've come to your community and experienced your generosity and warm hospitality. It means a lot to us, and we don't take that for granted. You've given up a great deal of your time and part of your music budget in order to open your church and this wonderful instrument to us. We've been on the other end of that, too. We know what it takes to host musicians and a concert series. It's not something to be taken lightly.

MVO: What do you see for the future? Do you have a wish list?

Ray: We've got a recording project in mind for the new organ John-Paul Buzard is building for our church.

Beth: We've been holding off, waiting for the new organ as we want to feature the exceptional work of this talented organ builder.

Ray: We want to do something in a more popular vein. That's why we've asked Nicholas White for an arrangement of the musical Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Beth: We also have a great arrangement of the William Tell Overture by Alan Gibbs of England.

Ray: That's one we're going to record, and of course, we have Shenandoah. We're looking for something more popular, something that would appeal to the non-organist as well as the organist.

MVO: As more great concert hall organs are being built, could you envision a duo organ concerto?

Ray: I think down the road we'll probably commission a concerto for two organists.

As we bring in fees from our organ concerts, we turn around and put the money into a commission. No one underwrites this other than us. One of our biggest missions is to accumulate a large body of organ duet literature for future generations. We're spending the money to do that.

Beth: We want to have all of our duets published and recorded. We hope others will be inspired to play them.

Ray: We want to be careful that we get the best use of our money with the pieces we commission. Would a concerto for two organists get that much of a hearing? Concertos don't get played that much in general. And it's more expensive to get two organists to play plus the added expense of an orchestra. I think that's an idea that we'll talk about, but we'll choose the composer carefully. We would want it to be a duet concerto that would have a long life after the premiere.

MVO: I hope I'm there to hear it. Is there anything else you would like to share?

Ray: We played a recital at a monastery a couple of weeks ago, a monastery that also has an all-male high school. It was an interesting opportunity for Beth and me, having had background in church work, concert work and teaching in school. We were able to tie in all of our backgrounds in one setting. While we were practicing, the choir director would bring his choral students over. We talked about the organ, entertained their questions, and played some duets. Later, I would go over and listen to them sing and give them some feedback on how well they were doing, some ideas. We were able to meet with the monks and talk with them about their religion, opposed to where we are as Episcopalians.

Beth: We ate with them in the cafeteria and had wonderful opportunities for dialogue.

Ray: We were just fascinated at the concert as some of the monks were in their 90s and were wheelchair bound.

Beth: They practically wheeled them right up to the console in a special reserved area.

Ray: As we walked off after taking our bows, we noticed some of the monks that couldn't get around and couldn't even talk much. We communicated mainly through the wonderful expressions on their faces. We would hug them and hold their hands.

Beth: There was one man who had cancer, I assume of the voice box. He held up a card. He couldn't speak, but he really communicated with his face. He wrote us a very moving letter of thanks and said he hoped we'd return again soon. That's when you know you're using your God-given talent in the right way.

Ray: He wanted to shake our hands and we could tell he really enjoyed the music. These are the memorable experiences: the people you meet and how you're able to communicate with them.

Beth: It was a unique opportunity, to be able to talk to the young men at the academy. One wants to major in piano. He was talking to us about where to go to school and asked our advice on his future. That can be a defining moment in a young musician's life.

Ray: You never know what will inspire somebody to major in organ, or to be a church organist. The three of us can sit here and think of great opportunities we've had in our lives when hearing a certain person play an organ concert or a certain piece really excited us. Or a certain organ that inspired you or a teacher who took that extra special time. It might have changed your life. That happened to me. I would never be an organist today had my sister not had an organ teacher, Mr. Harold Abmyer, who happened to end up in Fredericksburg, Virginia. It's surprising to have had such a fabulous beginning organ teacher--it's not a big city, it's a rural area. Mr. Abmyer went to Union Theological Seminary, he studied with Clarence Dickinson, Seth Bingham . . .

Beth: Harold Friedell and many of the great musicians of that era.

Ray: Mr. Abmyer had great teachers in New York, and when he found a talented organ student--he made it into an apprenticeship. He was so excited to be able to impart the knowledge from these great master teachers, that an hour lesson would turn into five hours on a Saturday. That man changed my life. I would never be here today if it were not for him and for my beloved parents. We've all had opportunities like that. It's never just another day or another concert. It's a wonderful opportunity to connect and make a difference in someone's life.

Beth: To connect with somebody, wherever they are.

Ray: It's a great life and we just love it. Hopefully Beth and I have made a difference.

Elizabeth and Raymond Chenault have blazed a trail for the art of the organ duet, enchanting audiences with their enjoyable performances and charming personalities and ensuring the future of the genre with a wealth of commissioned repertoire. When you meet the Chenaults, an easy rapport develops immediately, and you feel as if you've known them a long time. They are genuine, sincere, fun-loving people, and these qualities feed their mission to connect with people through their music.

Both their career as duo organists and their marriage span nearly 30 years. Natives of Virginia, the Chenaults attended Virginia Commonwealth University, marrying after graduation in 1972. Ray attended Cincinnati Conservatory to earn a master's degree, and they both studied organ with Wayne Fisher during that time. Following his master's studies, Ray spent a year as organ scholar at Washington National Cathedral. The Chenaults moved to Atlanta in 1975, taking the positions of organists and choir masters at All Saints Episcopal Church, where they direct the music program and concert series. A year later, positions at the Lovett School--Ray as director of fine arts and choral director of the Upper School, Beth as choral director of the Middle School--rounded out their professional life. The Chenaults are managed by Phillip Truckenbrod Concert Artists.

I talked with them while they were in town to play a concert at the Glenview Community Church.

MVO: How did you get started performing duets?

Beth: When we started giving recitals, we thought it would be fun to play together because we're married. That was how we got started. Thomas Tomkins, the 16th-century British composer, wrote one of the earliest known organ duets, A Fancy for Two, which we programmed on our recitals. Early on, when we commissioned Gerre Hancock to write a piece, he took the same title, A Fancy for Two. Sometimes we would play both of those duets because we didn't have enough literature. We would play solo organ literature and put a few duets on the program.

Ray: When we began to research duet organ literature, we found there wasn't a lot written. There are theses and dissertations that have identified unpublished manuscripts of duets, but we focused on what was published. There was so little of it that we decided to start commissioning works.

MVO: So you started commissioning music not only because you wanted to, but also out of necessity.

Ray: Right. The idea really came unexpectedly. In 1978, Dr. Arthur Wills from Ely Cathedral in England played a recital on our concert series at All Saints Church, Atlanta. The second half of the program comprised his own music. I really liked what I was hearing, so after the concert I asked him if he'd be interested in writing us an organ duet. He immediately accepted and that became our first commission.

Beth: Toccata for Two is one of our favorite pieces and we premiered it at Washington National Cathedral.

Ray: Next, we asked John Rutter to write Variations on an Easter Theme for us which we also premiered at Washington Cathedral. We found out that audiences, organists and music critics were very excited about the duets we were commissioning. In fact they still are almost 25 years later. Now we have over forty commissions that we've either arranged or had written for us. Three CDs later, we've recorded a lot of our own works and have the Chenault Organ Duet Library that's been published by Belwin Mills. Our mission is to get the work out there and leave a body of work for organists to perform and audiences to enjoy.

MVO: Do you play your duo repertoire for church services, or do you stick to solos?

Beth: For church services, we've played Callahan's Evensong, Philip Moore's Allegro, and Variations on an Easter Theme by Rutter.

Ray: We use almost all our repertoire, except the secular pieces, for preludes and postludes.

Beth: We have even played The Stars and Stripes Forever for the postlude near the 4th of July. Our former rector, the Right Rev. Harry H. Pritchett, Jr., played the cymbals and the entire congregation would cheer him on.

Ray: Talk about fun for the congregation--the minister playing cymbals. That's one time they all stay for the postlude. When the minister hits the first crash of the cymbals the congregation will break into applause, I can assure you.

Beth: It's just great fun and a wonderful way to make organ music and the organist more accessible to the parishioners.

Ray: Charlie Callahan has already written two compositions for the first Sunday when we'll play the new John-Paul Buzard pipe organ at our church for services on All Saints Sunday this November 2003. One of these is a duet postlude on Sine Nomine.

MVO: When commissioning a piece, do you give the composer specific ideas or do you let him have free rein?

Beth: We've done both. When we first started, we had some definite ideas. With Philip Moore, we asked him to listen to our recital at Yorkminster Cathedral and make a suggestion about what we might need on the program. He suggested sonata-allegro form, so he used that form for the third movement of the Triptych which he wrote for us over a time period of five years. This wonderful composition works nicely as a larger work in three movements or by featuring one of them in concert.

Ray: Being a bit of a composer myself, I believe it's important for the composer to have inspiration for a piece or a particular theme, because then you get your best music. In general, we're open-minded and accepting of whatever a composer feels inspired to do. We've been very happy with most of our commissions and they're all very different. It's wonderful to see composers being inspired by what they want to write. Take The Emerald Isle for instance. Charlie Callahan's homeland is Ireland. When he found out we were going to be recording our second CD at Washington Cathedral--he knows that organ very well, he lived in Washington--he said he knew exactly what he wanted to write--a piece based on Londonderry Air. He was inspired to write one of our most appealing organ duets. He never missed an opportunity to extract every ounce of beauty from that popular theme. Being from Ireland, it had a very special meaning for him.

Beth: Nicholas White has just written an arrangement of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera for us.

Ray: We wanted something fun for our audiences and Phantom is our favorite musical. Nick lives in New York. He loves musical theatre and plays jazz, so he was the ideal choice for this commission. When we commissioned him the first time, we specifically asked for an arrangement of Shenandoah, because Beth is from the little town of Shenandoah in Virginia. We love that beautiful folk tune and our audiences love it, too.

Beth: The Shenandoah River goes through my hometown, and some of the piece was cleverly written by Nick to sound like the rippling water. He also throws in Moon River and Strangers in the Night for added pleasure.

MVO: Do the composers usually give specific registrations in the scores?

Ray: Mostly they're very specific about what they want. Occasionally, they just give dynamic levels and registration suggestions. A lot of times we'll go back and ask them specifically what they want. It's a lot easier if they are specific, then we can take creative license, depending on the organ.

Beth: We've often had coaching sessions with the composer. Conrad Susa made only dynamic suggestions in Canticle. So we found it very helpful to play the duet for him and get his immediate feedback to our interpretation and registration.

Ray: Stephen Paulus has written for us Triumph of the Saint, a large symphonic type three-movement duet, which had only dynamic suggestions. We met with Steve and then he gave more specific registration suggestions. He waits to hear the piece first. It's fun to get the composer's input and ideas. You learn so much from them.

Beth: On the other hand, in the score of Rhapsody, which we premiered in Atlanta for the 1992 National AGO Convention, Naji Hakim was very specific.

Ray: He was specific to the stop, and it's rewarding to recreate that, even though his work is written with the French organ sound in mind. Some American organs do that more successfully than others, but you create that sound as best you can when you get to different instruments. Some of the composers write for four feet, some have Beth do most of the pedaling because she's sitting on the left hand side. In the Naji Hakim piece, we both have double pedaling which is an added sonority.

Beth: At one point in the last Allegro movement of Philip Moore's Triptyque, Ray almost gets off the organ bench as I move all the way up to high E on the pedalboard. The balance issue really comes into play and both players must be totally in sync in such instances.

Ray: You'll see me almost get up and stand beside the bench while I'm still playing just to get out of Beth's zone. She, at that point, becomes a solo player because the pedal work is the main focus. The full pedal resource is featuring the melody, and we're doubling the manual parts. Beth moves to the top of the pedalboard and then all the way back down. I just have to get out of the way. It's particularly entertaining for the audience at that moment.

Beth: Philip Moore could have chosen to write that for Ray but that's what makes each composer's assignments for the duetists challenging.

Ray: Most composers have not written organ duets, and they're curious as to the format and idiosyncrasies. Therefore, we generally send a couple of our duets so they can see how it works. It helps to clarify so much before the first note is even written.

MVO: They must need some kind of a primer about how physically the duet can work.

Ray: Of course, there isn't a primer for writing duets. That's when our previously written duets become an invaluable composing document sampler. Sometimes we go back to the composer and tell them that doesn't work. We'll make suggestions based on our experience. Usually they're happy to do what is needed, perhaps dividing up the territory differently than written. Also, if the piece really doesn't work, then we have to go back to the drawing table again. Most composers get it figured out with only slight revisions. It's a fascinating process.

MVO: I recall you mentioning that you need a 3-manual organ in order to perform your repertoire. Do you ever have to turn concert requests down because the setting won't work?

Beth: We had to turn one down last year because it was a two-manual organ. We used to play on two-manual instruments, but it's too hard as we need more keyboards and tonal colors to bring out accompaniment and solo lines. If you have two or three themes going at the same time, you wouldn't hear them on a two-manual instrument.

Ray: We have done some concerts on two manuals, and we have to do creative arranging of the duets to make it work. But a small two-manual organ is just too limiting. If it's a fairly large two-manual organ, it's possible, but we would have to be very careful with the selection of repertoire. We wouldn't be able to showcase the commissions the way they were intended to be performed.

As you can imagine, as we play more concerts and build our repertoire, there are certain types of duets we want, and we go to trusted composers who will write what we need for our programs--some more contemporary, some more audience friendly. It's important to reach all of your audience members. Hopefully each audience member will take away something from our concert that feels special to them, and perhaps that will bring them back to another organ concert.

MVO: What do you think about when you're putting a program together? What makes it a good concert?

Ray: A primary consideration is to be sure the pieces fit the unique qualities of the organ and acoustic. The longer we're in this business, the more we find our audiences are people who want programs that speak to them. They want performers who communicate and move them emotionally.

Beth: We know we are a unique couple--unique as a husband and wife offering an entire program of organ duets--all commissioned or arranged for us. Audiences are already open to our special fare. That gives us a wonderful opportunity to perform a program filled with musicality and warmth. Our concerts strive to connect with many human emotions.

Ray: We might draw people to our duet organ concert that the ordinary solo performer may not. Husband and wife duets? What's this?

Beth: Oh, are there two organs? Four hands, four feet? It's a curiosity.

Ray: People say, you're duo organists, does that mean you play two instruments? We could have gone that route, but look how much that would have minimized our performing venues. So we specialize in duets for two organists at one console. That works. We may attrtact fifty people to a recital who may never have been to an organ concert, who come out of curiosity.

Beth: Part of our mission is to get them to come back.

Ray: We purposely program music that is very audience friendly. But we also know that AGO members will attend and they want to hear something that's highbrow. So we do a mix, all the way from Naji Hakim's Rhapsody--fascinating and unique--to Londonderry Air or Shenandoah or Stars and Stripes. We begin our programs with more contemporary music and generally progress towards audience-friendly selections.

Beth: It has been interesting when we've played our Litaize Sonate à Duet commission. I just love it, but a lot of musicians will say, "Goodness, that's really modern isn't it?" I don't hear it that way, even when we read through it the first time. If musicians don't always like the piece, we might not play it on programs.

Ray: We have to be very careful when we program music by Litaize. At an AGO convention, which is where we did the premiere, you've got people present who understand and appreciate this kind of literature, mainly because they have had more university training. A lot of them are used to playing works of that nature, so they would appreciate it. But if you go to a small community that might not be used to hearing a lot of sophisticated organ music, it might turn them off. You've got to be very careful and sensitive to the nature and backgrounds of your audiences.

Beth: For a long time, a lot of people were turned off to organ music.

MVO: Let's talk about that. Some people say it's the fault of organists because they're not doing what they need to do to reach audiences, and organists complain that their concerts are not well-attended. How do you see the picture?

Beth: I think things are turning around. Organists play so many recitals for other organists. While that is wonderful, and you want your colleagues to come, that's not always who supports what you're doing. You've got to play something for parishioners and folks in the community. I don't want to be a lightweight, but I want to play something that average people can enjoy, something that will encourage them to come back again for another program, or maybe go out and buy a CD of organ music.

I love Messiaen, but you can't play 45 minutes of it, except maybe on your graduate recital. You can't play that kind of program for the average community of people who are coming to support your church that has a new pipe organ. They might not come back again.

Ray: We saw that happen at an all-Messiaen program many years ago.

Beth: People left in droves at intermission.

Ray: The die-hard organists stuck it out because they knew what they were hearing and it was a unique opportunity. Even many of the local organists left.

Beth: Many people didn't come back. They talked negatively about that recital for a long time.

Ray: We heard them say, "I'll never come back to another organ concert." That just breaks your heart. We really work hard at programming. Appealing programming and good playing is the absolute secret to making audiences feel good about an organ concert. People know that our programs are going to be warm and friendly and the audiences respond favorably. After the concerts, people tell us it was the most enjoyable organ concert they've ever attended. I don't know whether it's our playing or the fact that we're husband and wife or the repertoire or a combination of all these things. The longer we're in the recital business, the more we find that our mission is to bring people to organ concerts and to inspire them to come back again.

Beth: And come back to your church concert series. Because you may have not only organists performing, but also other types of concerts or events offered for your community.

Ray: For instance, particularly since 9/11, often for encores we play a duet by Charlie Callahan called Evensong. It's based on the Tallis Canon and Ar hyd y nos, two well-known evening hymns with prayerful and meditative texts. With all the war talk in our world, we're all feeling scared. After playing Evensong many people comment on how appreciative they feel for this calming musical offering. It's not anything that you can put into words, but when we play those two beautiful tunes and the organ ends very quietly, you can hear a pin drop. It leaves people in a very warm place, and somehow feeling that maybe things are going to be okay.

Beth: The Ar hyd y nos hymn text ends "Sleep my child, peace be with you, all through the night."

Ray: We played Evensong on a concert the day Desert Storm started. Beth and I were weeping as we were playing it. It was a very special performance. We played it a couple of weeks ago as well for an encore and again, with the talk of war with Iraq, it became quite emotional for us to perform it.

Beth: Ray is from Fredericksburg, Virginia, and recently there had been the sniper attacks. When we had gone to Virginia for his aunt's funeral, we stopped at the gasoline station where one of the men was shot. So that was fresh on our minds.

Ray: Evensong is an illustration of the kind of repertoire that we've commissioned over the years. We have duets in our repertoire that we can perform for the occasion or respond to what is happening in the world.

Beth: If you want something in particular, we've got enough variety to fill the request.

Ray: We've been ending our concerts with The Stars and Stripes Forever. Since 9/11, Americans have become a lot more patriotic and appreciative of what we have in the United States.

Beth: American musicians need to promote more American music.

Ray: One of our missions is to promote American music. It's not that we don't commission outside of the United States, but we primarily concentrate on encouraging American composers to write by giving them an opportunity through our duet commissions. This is a valuable lesson I learned from one of my former teachers, Dr. Paul Callaway. Paul premiered many choral and organ works as organist/choirmaster of Washington Cathedral. Perhaps there is no finer legacy for a musician.

MVO: How do you work on learning music?

Beth: First, we work the duet on the piano individually and learn the keyboard parts first, then take it to the organ adding the pedaling and registration. Then we'll put things together slowly, working on problem areas and interpretation. When we first started, we would take turns switching Primo and Secondo parto, but we found it was difficult because as a duet performer, your center is off anyway. It's easier to get to one side and stick with it. At least, that works best for us.

Ray: I usually tell an audience that playing duets is like driving a stick shift car but from the passenger seat.

MVO: Do you have certain roles? Does one of you perhaps work more on registration?

Beth: Ray primarily does registration and I go out in the performing hall to listen and make suggestions.

Ray: I'll be the one at the instrument trying things. It's great to have another pair of ears in the room. We've all been in a solo situation where the organ chamber is halfway down the nave and you can't hear balance. In our situation, even though obviously I can't play all the parts, I can play enough of the duet so that we know what it sounds like once Beth resumes her role of performer.

Beth: As we spend more time with each instrument in a two- to three-day period, we continually tweak our initial registrations.

Ray: We collaborate on everything. We don't need a page-turner because we very carefully work out who turns the pages, who pushes the pistons, who works the expression boxes. It's very carefully orchestrated to avoid a mid-air collision.

Beth: Also, we work together on the programming.

Ray: And we'll go shopping together for Beth's performing outfits. We really collaborate on everything--our career, our jobs, our marriage. We're right there together. We are amazingly compatible.

MVO: Tell me how you collaborate at All Saints Church and the Lovett School.

Beth: Ray is the organist and choir master. I accompany the anthems and service music. Usually I'm at the console and he's conducting.

Ray: Beth is the associate organist/choirmaster and she never gives herself enough credit for what she does. We'll divide the choir rehearsal and do sectionals. She does that at the Lovett School as well. We co-direct the three high school choirs and she is also the accompanist. She trains the middle school choirs, which is a great feeder program for the high school, and she takes rehearsals for the high school choirs when I have administrative duties as director of fine arts. At church, I do most of the conducting, but Beth does most of the accompanying of the anthems and a lot of the preparatory sectionals. We share the preludes and postludes on Sunday morning, and we share the hymn playing.

MVO: You're working together at school, at church, and you're performing together. What makes that work? You must have your moments.

Beth: We're together so much, our personalities just gel.

Ray: I know people think I'm lying when I say this, but we are so compatible, it's almost unbelievable.

Beth: I miss him I if I don't see him for two or three hours.

Ray: We're soul mates and we knew it the moment we laid eyes on each other.

MVO: It shows.

Ray: One of the great joys of playing duet recitals it that we get to travel together. That's a real bonus. When we first started, before we developed the duet repertoire, I was under management as a solo artist. I would go on two or three-week tours and I really missed Beth and discovered that concertizing wasn't nearly as enjoyable without her by my side.

Beth: It's no fun traveling alone, sitting in some hotel room by yourself.

Ray: We get to share all of these things. If we ever have a cranky word for each other it's usually when we've been through a long day and we're both just exhausted. I can count on one hand the few little spats we've had and they've been so minor it's not even worth talking about. We're very fortunate and know it.

Beth: It is true.

Ray: God knew what he was doing when he put us together. We're very grateful for the opportunities we have.

MVO: Your collaboration seems to feed everything you do. It certainly isn't an encumbrance, a feeling of being yoked together. It's just the opposite.

Ray: Exactly. It wouldn't work for everybody. Some people say I'd be divorced by now if I had to spend that much time with my mate! And many of them are!

MVO: I've noticed something else that I believe is part of why people love to come to your concerts. You've created an image for yourselves. You're glamorous. [They both laugh.] I must tell you this story. A year ago, I was discussing concerts for the next season with my music board. None of them had ever heard of you or heard you play. I had just received your new publicity photo, so I showed it to them. The board's immediate response was a vote in favor of you coming to play a concert here. [Uproarious laughter.] I offered to get some recordings for them to review, but the response was, "No, that won't be necessary, we can just tell they would be really good."

Ray: Gosh, the power of that photo.

MVO: Clearly, you put in the effort to make your performances something special. Beth, I love the glamorous gowns you wear. I think organists could stand to do more of that. Would you dress that way anyway, or do you consciously make an extra effort for your performances?

Beth: One of our dear departed friends, Emily Spivey, a very elegant lady and wonderful organist and the powerhouse behind that fabulous concert hall, Spivey Hall, just south of Atlanta, gave us great advice early in our careers. Emily taught me the importance of glamour. She actually told me what to play and what to wear. She was a southern grand dame. She said people love to see glamour, and with organists, often you either see their backs or you don't see them at all. Emily said, "Spice it up, honey."

Ray: People want to know you're going to sound good, but ultimately, I think they want to connect with the artist more than anything else. As we all know, most of the time we're stuck in the balcony or behind a screen. In a church situation on Sunday mornings we're in a choir robe. We're sort of untouchable people--like in the Wizard of Oz, the person behind the curtain. People want to have contact with the artist. The first image they're going to have is just as you've expressed. They're going to see the picture our agent distributes. They will either be drawn in by that image or not. When we're all out there in a pool, a large body of artists and organists, there's got to be something that's going to draw them to you. We enjoy the glamour of it, but just sitting here, the three of us, we like this as much as anything. In fact, the best part of having the opportunity to concertize is getting to meet great people like you.

Beth: I love that.

Ray: Our greatest mission is to make contact with people like you--to get to know wonderful musicians, to have the opportunity to meet an audience and talk with them afterwards and shake their hands. And you become a family to us once we've come to your community and experienced your generosity and warm hospitality. It means a lot to us, and we don't take that for granted. You've given up a great deal of your time and part of your music budget in order to open your church and this wonderful instrument to us. We've been on the other end of that, too. We know what it takes to host musicians and a concert series. It's not something to be taken lightly.

MVO: What do you see for the future? Do you have a wish list?

Ray: We've got a recording project in mind for the new organ John-Paul Buzard is building for our church.

Beth: We've been holding off, waiting for the new organ as we want to feature the exceptional work of this talented organ builder.

Ray: We want to do something in a more popular vein. That's why we've asked Nicholas White for an arrangement of the musical Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Beth: We also have a great arrangement of the William Tell Overture by Alan Gibbs of England.

Ray: That's one we're going to record, and of course, we have Shenandoah. We're looking for something more popular, something that would appeal to the non-organist as well as the organist.

MVO: As more great concert hall organs are being built, could you envision a duo organ concerto?

Ray: I think down the road we'll probably commission a concerto for two organists.

As we bring in fees from our organ concerts, we turn around and put the money into a commission. No one underwrites this other than us. One of our biggest missions is to accumulate a large body of organ duet literature for future generations. We're spending the money to do that.

Beth: We want to have all of our duets published and recorded. We hope others will be inspired to play them.

Ray: We want to be careful that we get the best use of our money with the pieces we commission. Would a concerto for two organists get that much of a hearing? Concertos don't get played that much in general. And it's more expensive to get two organists to play plus the added expense of an orchestra. I think that's an idea that we'll talk about, but we'll choose the composer carefully. We would want it to be a duet concerto that would have a long life after the premiere.

MVO: I hope I'm there to hear it. Is there anything else you would like to share?

Ray: We played a recital at a monastery a couple of weeks ago, a monastery that also has an all-male high school. It was an interesting opportunity for Beth and me, having had background in church work, concert work and teaching in school. We were able to tie in all of our backgrounds in one setting. While we were practicing, the choir director would bring his choral students over. We talked about the organ, entertained their questions, and played some duets. Later, I would go over and listen to them sing and give them some feedback on how well they were doing, some ideas. We were able to meet with the monks and talk with them about their religion, opposed to where we are as Episcopalians.

Beth: We ate with them in the cafeteria and had wonderful opportunities for dialogue.

Ray: We were just fascinated at the concert as some of the monks were in their 90s and were wheelchair bound.

Beth: They practically wheeled them right up to the console in a special reserved area.

Ray: As we walked off after taking our bows, we noticed some of the monks that couldn't get around and couldn't even talk much. We communicated mainly through the wonderful expressions on their faces. We would hug them and hold their hands.

Beth: There was one man who had cancer, I assume of the voice box. He held up a card. He couldn't speak, but he really communicated with his face. He wrote us a very moving letter of thanks and said he hoped we'd return again soon. That's when you know you're using your God-given talent in the right way.

Ray: He wanted to shake our hands and we could tell he really enjoyed the music. These are the memorable experiences: the people you meet and how you're able to communicate with them.

Beth: It was a unique opportunity, to be able to talk to the young men at the academy. One wants to major in piano. He was talking to us about where to go to school and asked our advice on his future. That can be a defining moment in a young musician's life.

Ray: You never know what will inspire somebody to major in organ, or to be a church organist. The three of us can sit here and think of great opportunities we've had in our lives when hearing a certain person play an organ concert or a certain piece really excited us. Or a certain organ that inspired you or a teacher who took that extra special time. It might have changed your life. That happened to me. I would never be an organist today had my sister not had an organ teacher, Mr. Harold Abmyer, who happened to end up in Fredericksburg, Virginia. It's surprising to have had such a fabulous beginning organ teacher--it's not a big city, it's a rural area. Mr. Abmyer went to Union Theological Seminary, he studied with Clarence Dickinson, Seth Bingham . . .

Beth: Harold Friedell and many of the great musicians of that era.

Ray: Mr. Abmyer had great teachers in New York, and when he found a talented organ student--he made it into an apprenticeship. He was so excited to be able to impart the knowledge from these great master teachers, that an hour lesson would turn into five hours on a Saturday. That man changed my life. I would never be here today if it were not for him and for my beloved parents. We've all had opportunities like that. It's never just another day or another concert. It's a wonderful opportunity to connect and make a difference in someone's life.

Beth: To connect with somebody, wherever they are.

Ray: It's a great life and we just love it. Hopefully Beth and I have made a difference.

Earl V. Kelone, 82, of Little Rock, Arkansas, died on May 10 from a stroke. He was born on November 18, 1919 in Little Rock and was a member of Our Lady of the Holy Souls Catholic Church, where he served as organist and choir director for 48 years. He also served as treasurer of the Central Arkansas AGO chapter for several years, and was an Army veteran of World War II in the Pacific Theatre. Mr. Kelone is survived by his wife of 55 years, Gertrude Kelone, a daughter, a brother, a sister, and two grandchildren. Memorials may be made to the Msgr. Allen Trust Fund, c/o Our Lady of the Holy Souls Church, 1003 N. Tyler St., Little Rock, AR 72205; or St. Joseph's Endowment Fund, 1115 College Ave., Conway, AR 72032.

 

Frederick A. Lake, age 72, died on June 28 at Kaiser Hospital in San Francisco, California, after a lengthy illness. Fred served as senior voicer at Schoenstein & Co., San Francisco, where was employed since 1981. In his 21 years of dedicated service to the company, he was a major contributor in developing their American Romantic tonal style. He carried out numerous voicing research and development projects based on the firm's studies in France, Germany and England, and conducted numerous tonal experiments toward the creation of new stops such as the Schoenstein Symphonic Flute. Fred also took part in tuning and tonal finishing activities.

According to members of his family, Fred developed a passionate interest in the pipe organ and its music as he grew up in Kalamazoo, Michigan. He studied organ in school and college and held posts as a church organist through much of his career. His organ work started with an apprencticeship at the firm of Rudolf von Beckerath in Hamburg, Germany. His training was primarily in flue voicing. In 1958 he joined John Shawhan, the Casavant representative in Saginaw, Michigan, where he took part in the installation and finishing of many new Casavant organs as well as rebuilding projects and tuning. In 1968, Fred joined the Berghaus Organ Company in Bellwood, Illinois, where he served as voicer and handled other organ building, rebuilding, and service responsibilities until moving to San Francisco and joining the Schoenstein organization. He was a member of the American Institute of Organbuilders.

Fred Lake was highly respected by co-workers and clients alike. He was a gentlemanly, soft-spoken, and learned colleague with extensive interests and knowledge in a wide range of scientific subjects. His thorough dedication to the study of pipe organ tone made him a valued member of the pipe organ community. He is survived by his sister Ruth Ann Saunders of Kirkland, Washington.

--Jack Bethards

President, Schoenstein & Co.

 

Robert Noehren died on August 4 in San Diego, California. He was 91. Dr. Noehren enjoyed a long career as a recitalist, teacher, scholar, and organ builder. He taught at the University of Michigan from 1949 to 1976, serving as head of the organ department and university organist, and was named professor emeritus in 1977.

Born on December 16, 1910, in Buffalo, New York, Noehren studied organ with Gaston Dethier, Ernest Mitchell and Lynnwood Farnam, and composition with Paul Hindemith. Early in his career he served as a church organist in Germantown, Pennsylvania; Buffalo, New York; and Grand Rapids, Michigan. He taught at Davidson College prior to his appointment to the University of Michigan. Noehren made over 40 recordings and was the first organist and one of only two non-French organists to receive the Grand Prix du Disque (for his recording of the Bach Trio Sonatas). In 1978 he received the Performer of the Year Award from the New York City AGO chapter.

Through grants from the Carnegie Foundation and the University of Michigan, Noehren toured France, Germany, and Holland extensively, gathering scaling and voicing data on the organs of those countries. Articles based on those experiences appeared in The Diapason beginning in 1948. He formed his own organ company in Ann Arbor and built 20 organs between 1955 and 1979, including large four-manual instruments at St. John's Cathedral, Milwaukee; First Presbyterian Church, Buffalo, New York; and First Unitarian Church, San Francisco. In 1999, Harmonie Park Press (Warren, Michigan) published Noehren's collection of essays, An Organist's Reader, which details his life in music and organ building. Recent recordings include The Robert Noehren Retrospective (Lyrichord LYR-CD-6005) and Johann Sebastian Bach (Fleur de Lis FL 0101-2).

[A tribute will appear in a later issue.]