University of Rochester Press publishes John Near's Widor biography

Herman D. Taylor & Gordon Atkinson

Dr. Gordon Atkinson is a Past President of the Royal Canadian College of Organists. His latest composition, Soliloquy No. 2, was premiered by Dr. Barrie Cabena at St. James’ Cathedral, Toronto, on September 24, 2004, with other pieces from an album written in memory of Gerald Bales, a former organist and director of music at St. Mark’s Cathedral, Minneapolis.

The University of Michigan School of Music held its 44th Conference on Organ Music October 3-6, 2004, under the direction of Dr. Marilyn Mason, Chairman of the Organ Department. This year’s conference featured the organ music of France, focusing primarily on the later 19th to mid-20th centuries, and offered the 12 major organ works of Franck and all ten organ symphonies of Widor. Hill Auditorium was the perfect venue, having recently undergone a total refurbishing throughout, with considerable work being done on the organ, on which this music can be faithfully realized with fidelity to the composers’ intentions.

Sunday

Dr. James Kibbie, organ professor at Michigan, opened the conference on Sunday afternoon performing Trois Pièces by César Franck and Symphonie VI en sol mineur, Op. 32/2, by Charles-Marie Widor. In his usual manner, Kibbie performed flawlessly without score and with ultimate grace and ease, fulfilling the demands of this repertoire. He knows the Hill Auditorium organ intimately so that Widor’s intentions were faithfully realized.

Sunday evening’s recital featured the Widor Symphonie VIII en si majeur, Op. 42, no. 4. This six-movement work was shared by organ students of Michigan Professor Robert Glasgow: Susan De Kam performing the first three movements and Elizabeth Claar the last three. Both performers acquitted themselves admirably.

Monday

Monday’s events began with Seth Nelson, a doctoral student of Dr. Mason, performing the Widor Symphonie I, en ut mineur, Op. 13. Mr. Nelson was able to realize all the intricacies of this composition with a solid technique and full utilization of the organ’s considerable resources. It was refreshing for performers to have at their disposal an instrument that could realize everything indicated by the composer without compromise.

Dr. John Near, Professor of Music and College Organist at Principia College, is perhaps the leading authority on Widor, as is reflected in his 1984 doctoral dissertation, “The Life and Work of Charles-Marie Widor,” and his many publications, including a ten-volume annotated edition of the Widor organ symphonies. His presentation was replete with all manner of interesting and fascinating details about metronomic and tempo markings, touches and rubato. This kind of detail gave valuable insights into 19th-century French organ music in general and Widor in particular.

We were feted in the early afternoon by Dr. Marilyn Mason and two of her students, Shin-Ae Chun and James Wagner, performing Trois Chorals by Franck. These well-known compositions received scrupulous attention to every detail in terms of phrasing, registration and style. There was not a hint of the sameness one might expect from Professor Mason and her young charges. Instead, each placed her/his own stamp of individuality on each chorale in a convincing way.

Later in the afternoon Dr. Carolyn Shuster Fournier performed a recital of well-known works, which included Berceuse and Final (Symphony I) by Vierne; Prélude, Fugue et Variation by Franck, and Guilmant’s Grand Choeur in re majeur, among others. Dr. Fournier performs with a decidedly tasteful flair, élan, and elegance that demand her listeners’ attention. Her intimate knowledge and understanding of the music was immediately transmitted to the audience as her playing ranged from a barely audible whisper to thunderous outbursts. Hers was a thoroughly enjoyable recital and musical experience.

Due to time constraints, Mr. James Wagner, doctoral candidate in church music/organ performance, gave an abbreviated, but very fine lecture on “A foretaste of things to come,” which focused on César Franck’s Grande Pièce Symphonique, Op. 17. He had compiled a thoroughly detailed handout that included a quite useful bibliography. We even had the opportunity to sing a number of the nine themes to which Mr. Wagner had creatively assigned appropriately descriptive and colorful names.

To close the day, Jean-Pierre Lecaudey, an organist of international repute who performs at major festivals in Europe and North America, performed with absolute aplomb the Widor Symphonie Gothique, Op. 70; Prélude and Fugue on the Name of Alain, Op. 7, by Maurice Duruflé; and the Grand Pièce Symphonique, Op. 17, by César Franck. One very impressed conferee described his playing as “effortless, elegant, with great ease, with fidelity to the music, and with wonderful style.” Fine praise, indeed.

All performers are to be highly praised and roundly applauded for consistently fine performances despite severely restricted practice time. Organ technicians stood at the ready at all times to touch-up here and there, and a marvelous spirit of cooperation, tolerance and understanding was the order of the day among all concerned. The end result was a conference absolutely second to none!

--Herman D. Taylor

Professor Emeritus of Music

Eastern Illinois University,

Charleston, Illinois

Director of Music and Organist

Church of the Immaculate Conception,

 Mattoon, Illinois

Tuesday

On Tuesday, October 5, students of Marilyn Mason played Widor’s Symphony VII. Luke Davis, Abigail Woods, Christine Chun, Kirsten Hellman and David Saunders all demonstrated  knowledge of the required style in the movements played.

In his lecture, “Franck’s Grand Pièce Symphonique,” Jean-Pierre Lecaudey, St. Rémy Cathedral, France, provided in fine detail his examination of the structure. The excellent handout showed the four movements of the work with its classic and traditional harmonic form, illustrating Franck’s genius in his use of themes in this creation of a real symphony.

John Near’s lecture, “Charles-Marie Widor: his relation to the French Symphonic organ and Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, ‘the poet-architect of sounds’,” showed the strong relationship between Widor and Cavaillé-Coll that began when Widor’s father was organist at St. François de Salle in Lyon, with its fine Cavaillé-Coll instrument. In his memoirs Widor wrote, “I was born in an organ pipe.” He proceeded to study with Lemmens and Fétis. Cavaillé-Coll sponsored the 25 year-old Widor’s candidacy as organist at St. Sulpice, which resulted in Widor’s 60-year tenure. The symphonic organ, a veritable orchestra with its divided chests, different wind pressures, mechanical action with Barker levers and vast dynamic range was a stimulus to Widor’s writing.

Carolyn Shuster Fournier, organist of the choir organ at La Trinité Church, Paris, in her lecture on Cavaillé-Coll’s secular organs, drew attention to instruments installed in royal palaces, residences, theaters, and concert halls. Cavaillé-Coll wrote letters about organs in order to promote better, high quality music. Among his largest non-church instruments were those at Albert Hall, Sheffield, England with three enclosed divisions, destroyed by fire, and the Trocadero in Paris, to which was added, at a later date, a 10-stop non-expressive solo division. Alexandre Guilmant was titulaire at the Trocadero; 15 concerts were played at the opening celebrations. (James Kibbie replicated one of these programs at the Sunday afternoon recital.) Large choral societies were formed to sing in these halls, and major works were performed, including Bach’s Magnificat, Handel’s Messiah and Israel in Egypt.

Michele Johns performed Widor’s Symphony V, the Allegro Vivace’s heroic opening statement and succeeding variations well-defined. Contrast of color and mood was achieved between the Adagio and the well-known Toccata.

The evening concert was held at the skillfully restored Blessed Sacrament Cathedral in Detroit with its fine acoustics. Olivier Latry of Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris, played Vierne’s Symphony III on the 1925 Casavant in the rear choir loft. In his considered and telling performance, the architecture of the symphony was clearly shown, the last three movements--Intermezzo, Adagio and Final--exquisitely drawn. Norah  Duncan IV directed the  Archdiocesan Chorus and Wayne State University Concert Choir in Vierne’s Messe Solennelle for chorus and two organs, with Olivier Latry playing the rear instrument, and Shari Flore playing the 2003 Austin at the front of the cathedral. From the rear organ’s arresting opening chords of the Kyrie eleison, the choirs’  dramatic dynamics and fine shading throughout, and the choir organist’s significant part contributed to a performance of great beauty. M. Latry playing the Austin displayed his enormous improvisational skills in his treatment of Veni, Creator Spiritus.

Wednesday

On Wednesday, October 6, back in Ann Arbor, Widor’s Symphony III was played by James Kibbie’s students. Alan Knight, David Schout, Matthew Bogart, Isaac Brunson and Thomas Kean all showed familiarity with the movements chosen.

In John Near’s authentically stylish playing of Widor’s Symphony X (Romane), the last movement is perhaps the most colorful harmonically in all of Widor’s music. In Near’s lecture he stated that Widor was a constant reviser of his writing, going back to refine and show further thought in many compositions.

At the 2003 conference Joseph Daniel played movements from Widor’s Symphony IV. This year he played the complete work in which the Fugue’s flowing lines and the Scherzo’s delicate rhythmic pulse were well maintained.

Dr. Mason introduced the university’s organ technician Jerry Adams and his associate Gordon Mendenhall and thanked them for returning the Hill Auditorium organ to playing condition after three years’ silence during the renovation of the auditorium.

Prior to a seminar in which Marilyn Mason, Robert Glasgow, James Kibbie, Michele Johns and John Near took part, Dr. Mason asked the audience to stand, remembering Searle Wright (in whose memory the conference was dedicated), Margaret White, a regular conferee, and  Bill Jones. From the discussion, many points were brought forward: Widor played in recital independent movements of the symphonies; the spiritual and serene quality of the Romane was emphasized; the composer’s favorites were Symphony V and the Gothique; and he thought Symphony VIII would be his last in order that he might concentrate on writing theater and ballet music. He arranged the first and last movements of Symphony VI for orchestra and organ, and the first movement of Symphony II went through many revisions.

At a late afternoon reception held at the home of Marilyn Mason and her husband William Steinhoff, players, lecturers and conferees enjoyed fine weather and fine food.

In the evening Franck’s Fantaisie in C, Op. 16, Pastorale, Op. 19, Prière, Op. 20 and Final, Op. 21 were played by Charles Kennedy, David Saunders, Joseph Daniel, and Susan DeKam. Jason Alden played Widor’s Symphony II with great style and assurance bringing this conference to a fine conclusion.

To hear all ten Widor symphonies  and Franck’s twelve pieces in four days is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and thanks must be given to the Organ Department at the University of Michigan, Dr. Marilyn Mason, chair, Dr. Robert Glasgow, Dr. James Kibbie, Dr. Michele Johns, the lecturers, performers and  students of the department. Famed for its acoustics, the refurbished Hill Auditorium, now in glorious blues, greens, red and gilt, added to this unique event; “ . . . like being inside a Fabergé egg,” said one enthusiast.

--Gordon Atkinson

Anton Warde

Anton Warde (Cape Elizabeth, Maine) is an emeritus professor of German (Union College, Schenectady, New York) and a past associate of David E. Wallace Pipe Builders, Gotham, Maine. Since contributing his four-part series, “E. Power Biggs in Mozart Country” (June–September 2006), he has served The Diapason as an occasional reviewer of books in the German language.

Licht im Dunkel—Lumière dans les ténèbres [Light in darkness]: Festschrift Daniel Roth zum 75. Geburtstag, Birger Petersen, editor. Bonn: Dr. J. Butz Musikverlag, 2017, 432 pages, hardbound, in German with abstracts in English and French, numerous musical examples, stop lists, and a bonus CD. ISBN 978-3-928412-23-0. €34, available from http://butz-verlag.de.   

We may first think of Daniel Roth as one of today’s elite French organists. And that he most certainly is. But given his bi-cultural heritage as a son of Alsace, as well as his numerous professional links to German institutions, we should not be surprised that the festschrift published to honor him on the occasion of his seventy-fifth birthday comes from Germany.

For most of his adult life, Roth’s activity has been centered in Paris. After completing formal studies at the Paris Conservatory in the early 1960s, principally under Maurice Duruflé and Rolande Falcinelli, he served as Falcinelli’s substitute at the Basilica of Sacré-Cœur for ten years before succeeding her as titular organist in 1973. From 1974 to 1976, Roth took a hiatus from his duties there in order to assume the post of artist-in-residence at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception and professor for organ at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. Upon his return to France, he remained at Sacré-Cœur until his appointment as organiste titulaire at Saint-Sulpice in 1985. He has now presided over the grand Cavaillé-Coll organ at Saint-Sulpice for more than three decades, burnishing its fame as one of the great “destination instruments” of the world.  

Along the way, Roth commuted to extended teaching positions in the French cities of Marseille and Strasbourg, as well as at conservatories in Saar-brücken (1988–1995) and Frankfurt am Main (1995–2007). Other German cities have provided the venue for the debut of each section of Roth’s triptych for large orchestra, Licht im Dunkel (2005–2009), the first of which was performed in Ludwigshafen by the Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfaltz under the baton of his elder son, François-Xavier Roth, an accomplished conductor based in Germany. More recently, Daniel Roth composed his Missa Beuronensis to serve as the centerpiece for a multi-day master course sponsored by ORGANpromotion at the Benedictine Abbey of Beuron on the Danube in September 2016. (A fine recording of this performance, with Roth at the organ, accompanies the book.) The indefatigable Michael Grüber of ORGANpromotion, located in Horb am Neckar, provided the impulse for composition of the Beuron Mass, as well as for the Roth festschrift itself.

In his foreword, editor Birger Petersen (professor of musical theory at the Johannes Gutenberg University in Mainz) notes that “it became clear early on that the book would end up forming concentric circles around the themes of St. Sulpice, Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, Albert Schweitzer, and the French organ tradition.” Within those fertile spheres we find not only ample attention to Daniel Roth, of course (in brief hommages written by George Baker, Daniel Maurer, Pascal Reber, Gregor Simon, and Jean-Paul Sorg, as well as Michael Grüber), but informative articles on the organ landscape of Alsace (Pierre Chevreau’s “Mulhouse, Albert Schweitzer und die elsässische Orgel von 1803 bis 1981”); on the two Cavaillé-Coll instruments of which Roth became the guardian and master (Yannick Merlin’s “Daniel Roth und die Orgeln von Sacré-Cœur und Saint-Sulpice” along with a short essay by Kurt Lueders on the problematic nature of the term flûte harmonique); on the composers César Frank (Christiane Strucken-Paland’s analysis and contextualization of Frank’s neglected early works for organ), Charles-Marie Widor (Fabian Kolb’s scholarly article on Widor’s push for the organ’s greater role in compositions for large orchestra), and Maurice Duruflé (Jörg Abbing on the influence of Vierne and Touremire on their student Duruflé, followed by Birger Petersen’s analysis of Duruflé’s influence, in turn, on polymodality in the compositions of his student Daniel Roth); and on the organist Marie Claire Alain, in Vincent Warnier’s study of the long friendship between Roth and Alain, his most influential post-conservatory mentor.

Albert Schweitzer, Roth’s revered Alsatian compatriot, six decades his senior, makes an appearance in nearly every essay, most notably in Gilles Cantagrel’s “In Saint-Sulpice mit Widor und Schweitzer,” concerning the unlikely teacher-student friendship between the two and in particular their reciprocal influence in appreciating the music of Bach; and in Wolfram Adolph’s thoughtful essay on Schweitzer’s concept of channeling spiritual unity with the cosmos in the meditative style of his Bach playing.

Like Schweitzer before him, Daniel Roth found his ears beguiled at an early age by the sonorities of the 1732 Andreas Silbermann organ at bucolic Ebersmünster in Alsace. In the words of Schweitzer: “I carry [the Silbermann sound] in my ear always; it leads me.” In the volume’s opening essay entitled “In the Style of a Panégyrique,” Peter Reifenberg cites Roth’s visit to Ebersmünster with his father at the age of twenty as decisive in motivating him—already a prize-winning Paris Conservatory student—to commit fully to the career of a professional organist. And Vincent Warnier suggests that it was at a joint appearance in Ebersmünster that Roth’s and Alain’s paths first crossed in the early 1960s. The young Roth, previously steeped in the music of Franck and other composers of his era, credits Alain, half a generation older than he, with introducing him properly to early music, teaching him the value of composers’ original scores, and equipping him with his fundamental approach to any piece of music: namely to analyze it closely from every angle in order to understand best what the composer would have wanted to hear in its performance.

Regardless of the organ he may be playing, Roth aims to deliver an interpretation that comes as close as possible to honoring its composer’s intent. In his own words as cited by Peter Reifenberg (in my translation), “[I want to place myself] completely in the service of the composer, constantly searching the composer’s universe to determine what . . . will sound correct and authentic [on the instrument at hand]” (p. 220).  

Indeed, it may be Roth’s wide-ranging insights on musical performance that many readers will find most fascinating. Examples appear throughout the volume, but chiefly in the three conversational sections that compose more than one third of the book: a 2017 interview conducted by Professor Jörg Abbing (pp. 213–225), Roth’s own lively 140-page discourse on agogic, rubato, accent, attack, registration, and much more, illustrated with many musical examples and references to specific organs (pp. 265–409), and finally in an engaging conversation with Pierre-François Dub-Attenti, one of Roth’s assistants at Saint-Sulpice (pp. 409–419). He is the young registrant we see seated at Roth’s left in most of the Saint Sulpice performances that are searchable on YouTube and viewable, as well, at http://www.stsulpice.com/. (It is Dub-Attenti we must thank for producing and posting those remarkable videos.)

In his own very readable German, Roth succinctly analyzes, for example, the differing routes of development taken by French organs and German organs, both classical and romantic; and he argues persuasively that the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Saint-Sulpice is not only the perfect organ for the music of Franck but also—as Schweitzer had maintained—for performance of Bach. The key for Bach, Roth explains, is to register a Plein Jeu and add a few discrete reed voices such as Basson or the small, bright Trompette from the Positif. As heard in Roth’s 2012 recording of Bach, re-released in 2017 and available for purchase at Amazon (or to stream in high quality as a complete album by searching within YouTube for “Daniel Roth Plays Bach”), the result is remarkably successful: we get the characteristic Cavaillé-Coll carpet of sound, rich in fundamentals, yet one that seems to match in voice-clarifying overtones the thrilling plenum of the large Gottfried Silbermann organ at Freiberg in Saxony. It helps, of course, that Cavaillé-Coll incorporated many classically French solo stops from the preceding 1780 Clicquot organ in his otherwise symphonic instrument for Saint Sulpice.

Too often, festschriften collect essays that barely relate to the accomplishments of the luminary being honored, or pieces that vary so widely in their focus that there would otherwise be little rationale for publishing (or re-publishing) them in the same volume. But this Festschrift comes as a most welcome treasury of interlocking themes. It will be of interest not only to students of the organ at any level of proficiency but to organ builders and enthusiasts who, incidentally, need not be advanced readers of German. Most of the language is straightforward and clear. The book should reasonably find a home in any library that serves an organ program, as it surely will in the personal libraries of many of the countless friends and admirers of Daniel Roth, who deserves to enjoy many more years of superb music making.

Lukas Foss, composer, performer, and teacher, died in New York on February 2. He was 86. German-born, Foss was trained in Germany, in Paris, and at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia; he had studied composition with Randall Thompson and Paul Hindemith, and conducting with Fritz Reiner and Serge Koussevitzky. Known for composing in different musical styles, he often combined past and present influences and techniques. He served as the pianist of the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1944–50, and he conducted numerous orchestras including the Brooklyn Philharmonic, the Jerusalem Symphony, and the Milwaukee Symphony. He taught composition and conducting at UCLA from 1953–62 and had served as composer-in-residence at Carnegie-Mellon University, Harvard University, the Manhattan School of Music, Yale University, and Boston University. Foss’s compositional output included many orchestral, chamber, and choral works, as well as several works for piano, and two organ compositions, Four Etudes (1967) and War and Peace (1995). Lukas Foss is survived by his wife Cornelia.

James Barclay Hartman died on January 23 at the age of 84. He was predeceased by his wife Pamela in 1983. Born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada on January 12, 1925, he was educated at the University of Manitoba (BA 1948, MA 1951), Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island, and Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois (Ph.D.). He began a teaching career at Iowa State University, Ames, Iowa, returning to Canada in 1967 to teach at Scarborough College, University of Toronto. In 1974 he was appointed director of development and external affairs at Algoma University College, Laurentian University in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, and in 1980 joined the Continuing Education Division at the University of Manitoba as associate professor and director, humanities and professional studies. At the time of his retirement he held the position of senior academic editor.
A skilled photographer, he did commercial photography to help finance his university education. His great passion was music, especially the music of J. S. Bach, and in particular the works for organ and for harpsichord, both of which he played. He served for many years as book reviewer for The Diapason, and authored reviews and articles for numerous academic journals. His chief publication was the book The Organ in Manitoba, published by the University of Manitoba Press in 1997.
Dr. Hartman’s articles published in The Diapason include: “The World of the Organ on the Internet” (February 2005); “Alternative Organists” (July 2004); “Seven Outstanding Canadian Organists of the Past” (September 2002); “Families of Professional Organists in Canada” (May 2002); “Organ Recital Repertoire: Now and Then” (November 2001); “Prodigy Organists of the Past” (December 2000); “Canadian Organbuilding” (Part 1, May 1999; Part 2, June 1999); “Purcell’s Tercentenary in Print: Recent Books” (Part I, November 1997; Part II, December 1997); “The Golden Age of the Organ in Manitoba: 1875–1919” (Part 1, May 1997; Part 2, June 1997); “The Organ: An American Journal, 1892–1894” (December 1995); and “The Search for Authenticity in Music—An Elusive Ideal?” (June 1993).

Thomas A. Klug, age 61, died suddenly at his home in Minneapolis on January 8. He received his bachelor’s degree in music from Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin, and his master’s degree from Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois. An accomplished organist for 44 years, he began his musical career at St. Michael’s United Church of Christ in West Chicago, Illinois. He went on to serve the First United Methodist Church in Elgin, Illinois, Olivet Congregational Church in St. Paul, Minnesota, and most recently was the organist for 20 years at St. Michael’s Lutheran Church in Roseville, Minnesota. Tom was a member of the American Guild of Organists and the Organ Historical Society, an outdoor enthusiast, gardener, and an accomplished cook. He will be deeply missed by his family and friends. A memorial service was held January 13 at St. Michael’s Lutheran Church, Roseville. He is survived by his parents, Armin and Marjorie Klug, brothers Kenneth (Cindy) and James (Diane Donahue), five nieces and nephews, one great-niece, and special friend Doug Erickson.
—Frank Rippl

Dutch organist and musicologist Ewald Kooiman died on January 25, on vacation in Egypt. He died in his sleep; the cause was heart failure.
Ewald Kooiman was born on June 14, 1938 in Wormer, just north of Amsterdam. He studied French at the VU University in Amsterdam and at the University of Poitiers, taking the doctorate in 1975 with a dissertation on the Tombel de Chartrose, a medieval collection of saints’ lives. He then taught Old French at the VU University, where he was appointed Professor of Organ Art in 1988.
As a teenager, Kooiman studied organ with Klaas Bakker. After passing the State Examination and encouraged by members of the committee to pursue music studies at a higher level, he continued with Piet Kee at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, earning a Prix d’Excellence—the equivalent of a doctorate—in 1969. While studying French at Poitiers, he simultaneously studied organ with Jean Langlais at the Paris Schola Cantorum, taking the Prix de Virtuosité in 1963.
Kooiman had a long and impressive international career as a concert organist. He twice recorded the complete organ works of Bach—first on LP, then on CD—and was awarded the Prize of German Record Critics in 2003. He was in the midst of recording his third complete Bach set—on SACD, using Silbermann organs in Alsace—which was scheduled to come out in late 2009 or early 2010.
Although Bach was at the heart of his musical activities, Kooiman took an interest in many other parts of the organ repertoire, for example the French Baroque. His study of this repertoire and the relevant treatises was, of course, greatly facilitated by his knowledge of the French language. His interest in the French Baroque organ also led to the construction of the so-called Couperin Organ (Koenig/Fontijn & Gaal, 1973) in the auditorium of the VU University.
But he also loved playing—and teaching—Reger and Reubke; he very much enjoyed learning Widor’s Symphonie gothique when he was asked to play the work as part of a complete Widor series in Germany; and he admitted to having “a weak spot” for Guilmant’s Variations on “Was Gott tut das ist wohlgetan.”
As a scholar, Kooiman edited some 50 volumes of mostly unknown organ music in the series Incognita Organo (published by the Dutch publisher Harmonia). Much of the series was devoted to organ music of the second half of the eighteenth and of the early nineteenth century, traditionally considered a low point in history of organ music. He also published widely on eighteenth- and nineteenth-century performance practice, mainly in the Dutch journal Het Orgel. His inaugural address as Professor of Organ Art was about the nineteenth-century roots of the French Bach tradition.
Besides teaching at the famous International Summer Academy for Organists at Haarlem—at first French Baroque repertoire, later Bach—Ewald Kooiman was for many years chairman of the jury for the improvisation competition in the same city. His fluency—besides French—in English and German and his ability to listen critically to the opinions of his colleagues made him the ideal person for such a job.
Although he was never the titulaire of one of the major historical Dutch organs, Kooiman served as University Organist of the VU University, playing the Couperin Organ in recitals and for university functions. But he also played organ for the Sunday morning services in the chapel of the university hospital.
In 1986, Kooiman succeeded Piet Kee as Professor of Organ at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, mostly teaching international students at the graduate level. I had the pleasure of studying with him for three years before graduating with a BM in 1989, having previously studied with Piet Kee for two years. Although much time was naturally spent with Bach—I learned at least two trio sonatas with him—he also taught later repertoire very well: Mozart, Mendelssohn, Reubke, Reger, Hindemith, Franck, and Alain come to mind. From time to time, I had to play a little recital, and he personally took care of “organizing” an audience by inviting his family.
As Professor Ars Organi at the VU University, Ewald was the adviser for three Ph.D. dissertations, all dealing with organ art at the dawn of Modernism: Hans Fidom’s “Diversity in Unity: Discussions on Organ Building in Germany 1880–1918” (2002); David Adams’s “‘Modern’ Organ Style in Karl Straube’s Reger Editions” (2007); and most recently René Verwer’s “Cavaillé-Coll and The Netherlands 1875–1924” (2008).
Ewald Kooiman was a Knight in the Order of the Dutch Lion; an honorary member of the Royal Dutch Society of Organists; and a bearer of the Medal of Merit of the City of Haarlem. For his 70th birthday, the VU University organized a conference in his honor and a group of prominent colleagues—including American Bach scholars Christoph Wolff and George Stauffer—offered him a collection of essays entitled Pro Organo Pleno (Veenhuizen: Boeijenga, 2008). Piet Kee’s contribution was the organ work Seventy Chords (and Some More) for Ewald. Earlier, Cor Kee (Piet’s father, the famous improviser and improvisation teacher) had dedicated his Couperin Suite (1980) as well as several short pieces to Ewald.
Though clearly part of a tradition and full of respect for his teachers, Kooiman was in many ways an individualist. He enjoyed frequent work-outs at the gym, not only because it kept him physically fit and helped him deal with the ergonomic challenges of playing historic organs, but also because he liked talking with “regular” people. Among colleagues—particularly in Germany—he was famous for wearing sneakers instead of more orthodox organ shoes. One of his favorite stories about his studies with Langlais was that the latter was keen on teaching him how to improvise a toccata à la française, a genre that Kooiman described as “knockabout-at-the-organ”—not exactly his cup of tea. “Non maître, je n’aime pas tellement ça,” he claimed to have answered: “No professor, I don’t like that too much.”
Ewald Kooiman is survived by his wife Truus, their children Peter and Mirjam, and two grandchildren. The funeral service took place at the Westerkerk in Amsterdam on February 4.
—Jan-Piet Knijff

Joseph F. MacFarland, 86, died on December 29, 2008, at the Westport Health Care Center in Westport, Connecticut. A native and lifelong resident of Norwalk, Connecticut, he was born on February 14, 1922. He earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the Juilliard School in New York, and studied organ with David McK. Williams and Jack Ossewarde at St. Bartholomew’s Church. For 56 years MacFarland served as organist-choirmaster at the First Congregational Church on the Green in Norwalk. He also was the accompanist for the Wilton Playshop, Staples High School, and Norwalk High School. He was a lifelong member of First United Methodist Church, Norwalk, Connecticut, and a member of the Bridgeport AGO chapter. He was a veteran of World War II, having served in the U.S. Army Air Corps.

Richard H. (Dick) Peterson died at age 83 on January 29, fourteen years after suffering a debilitating stroke. Besides spending time with Carol, his devoted wife of 53 years, and with his other family members, Richard’s greatest passion in life was applying modern technology to pipe organ building. His goal was always to make organs better, more affordable, and consequently more available for people to enjoy. During his long and prolific career, he was awarded over 70 U.S. and foreign patents.
Dick Peterson was born on February 26, 1925 in Chicago. He served in the U.S. Army as a radio engineer from 1943 until 1946 and studied electronics at the City College of New York. While stationed in New York City, he often visited Radio City Music Hall and loved the room-filling sound of the organ there while also being fascinated by the mechanics of pipe organs. It was during that time that he told his parents his goal in life was to “perfect the organ.”
Mr. Peterson soon co-founded the Haygren Church Organ Company in Chicago, which built 50 electronic organs for churches all around the Midwest. Soon thereafter, he founded Peterson Electro-Musical Products, currently in Alsip, Illinois. In 1952, he presented a prototype spinet electronic organ to the Gulbransen Piano Company. Gulbransen’s president was thrilled with the sound of the instrument, and they soon negotiated an arrangement where Richard would help the piano company get into the organ business and, as an independent contractor, he would develop and license technology to be used in building a line of classical and theatre-style home organs for Gulbransen to sell. One particularly notable accomplishment was Gulbransen’s introduction of the world’s first fully transistorized organ at a trade show in 1957. Gulbransen would ultimately sell well over 100,000 organs based on Peterson inventions.
Meanwhile, many of Peterson’s developments for electronic organs evolved into applications for real pipe organs. Especially notable among over 50 of Dick’s innovative products for the pipe organ are the first digital record/playback system; the first widely used modular solid state switching system; the DuoSet solid state combination action; a line of “pedal extension” 16-foot and 32-foot voices; and the first commercially available electronic swell shade operator. Many thousands of pipe organs worldwide utilize control equipment that is the direct result of Richard’s pioneering efforts. Also carrying his name is a family of musical instrument tuners familiar to countless thousands of school band students and widely respected by professional musicians, recording artists, musical instrument manufacturers and technicians.
In the 1950s, Dick Peterson enjoyed learning to fly a Piper Cub airplane, and in more recent times preceding his illness enjoyed ham radio, boating, and restoring and driving his collection of vintage Volkswagens. He was a longtime member of Palos Park Presbyterian Community Church in his home town of Palos Park, Illinois.
Memorial donations may be made to the American Guild of Organists “New Organist Fund,” where a scholarship is being established in Richard Peterson’s name.
—Scott Peterson

William J. (Bill) Stephens, 84, of Lawrence, Kansas, died suddenly at home of heart failure on December 19, 2008. Born in Jacksonville, Texas on June 28, 1924, his organ playing career began at the Episcopal Church in Jacksonville while in his early teens. He later studied organ with Roy Perry in Kilgore, Texas, and became interested in organ building at the workshop of William Redmond in Dallas. He graduated from the University of North Texas in 1949 with a bachelor’s degree in organ, where he was a pupil of Helen Hewitt. Stephens served in the Navy during WWII as a gunner’s mate 2nd class in the Pacific theater. He subsequently studied organ at the University of Colorado, Boulder, where he was a teaching assistant in organ and a pupil of Everett Jay Hilty in organ and Cecil Effinger in theory.
Stephens taught public school music in south Texas, was the organist-choirmaster of Trinity Episcopal and Trinity Lutheran Churches in Victoria, Texas, and was south Texas representative for the Reuter Organ Company, Lawrence, Kansas. He married Mary Elizabeth Durett of Memphis, Tennessee, in Denton on November 19, 1946. In 1968 Bill moved his family to Lawrence, Kansas, and installed Reuter pipe organs in all of the 50 states except Alaska. He operated an organ building and maintenance service business, covering most of the Midwest. He was also organist-choirmaster at Grace Episcopal Church, Ottawa, Kansas, for three years.
During his years at Reuter he taught many young men the mechanics, care and feeding of pipe organs and was very proud of their work when they became full-fledged “Organ Men.” For 40 years he was curator of organs at Christ Church Cathedral, Houston, and was proud of the recognition he received upon retiring. He also took special pride in rebuilding the organ at Trinity Episcopal Church, Aurora, Illinois. It had been water-soaked and inoperable for 25 years. Kristopher Harris assisted, and Christopher Hathaway played the dedication recital November 11, 2001.
Bill Stephens was a member of the Organ Historical Society. He is survived by his wife, Mary Elizabeth Durett Stephens, five children, four grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.
—Rumsey-Yost Funeral Home
Lawrence, Kansas

Marguerite Long Thal died December 5, 2008, in Sylvania, Ohio. She was 73. Born January 27, 1935, in Quinter, Kansas, she studied organ with Marilyn Mason at the University of Michigan, where she earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees in music. After graduation, she received a Fulbright grant to study in Paris, France for two years, where she attended the American University and studied with Jean Langlais and Nadia Boulanger. Returning to the U.S., she was appointed minister of music at the First Congregational Church in Toledo, Ohio, and taught organ at Bowling Green State University. In 1961, she married Roy Thal Jr., and they moved to Sylvania, where they remained for more than 40 years.
Active in the AGO, Mrs. Thal was a past dean of the Toledo chapter and served as Ohio district convener. She served as minister of music at Sylvania United Church of Christ for 18 years, gave many solo performances, and appeared with Prinzipal VI, a group of six organists who performed regionally. She is survived by her husband, Norman, two daughters, and three grandchildren.

Lorenz Maycher

Note: All letters, photos, articles, and other memorabilia used here are from the personal library of Dr. Alexander Boggs Ryan, housed at Trinity Episcopal Church, Longview, Texas, and Kilgore College, Kilgore, Texas. The letters were first publicly presented at the Gregg County Historical Society, Longview, Texas, by David Ford during the 2012 East Texas Pipe Organ Festival. All spelling and punctuation has been retained as found in the original letters.

 

Introduction

Marcel Dupré and Alexander Boggs Ryan—By one who knew them both

Marcel Dupré (1886–1971) had many American pupils, notable among whom were Emory Gallup, Carl Weinrich, Clarence Watters, and Dora Poteet. Although the foregoing were better suited to his approach than some others, there is no doubt that Clarence Watters and Dora Poteet were shining examples of his tradition and that they in turn passed this legacy on to their pupils in a way that insured reverence and respect.

Alexander Boggs Ryan (1928–1979) possessed an enviable and, in some ways, unique musical pedigree. Quite apart from his excellent piano background and well before he came to Dupré, he had received the Great Tradition (the Parisian organ school’s “apostolic succession”: Bach to Kittel to Rinck to Hesse to Lemmens to Guilmant & Widor and their pupils) from Dora Poteet Barclay. Helen Hewitt, one of Lynnwood Farnam’s pupils at the Curtis Institute, would become another early influence. (Although Farnam lacked a direct connection to the Parisian organ tradition, he was on intimate terms with many of its great lights. Farnam was in and out of many famous organ lofts and established bonds with Albert Dupré, Henri Mulet, and Charles Tournemire among others. He and the Duprés often met at Claude Johnson’s country house. As is well known, Vierne’s Sixth Symphony is dedicated to him.)

When Boggs arrived in Paris in 1952, Marcel Dupré was in the final years of his professorship at the Conservatoire. In previous decades his organ class included a glittering roll-call of greats, from Olivier Messiaen to Jeanne Demessieux, to name only two. In the immediate post-war period alone there had been, among the women, Françoise Renet, Marie-Madeleine Chevalier, and the fabulous Suzanne Chaisemartin; among the men, Pierre Labric, Jean Costa, and the unforgettable Pierre Cochereau. Beginning in 1954, Dupré would place the organ class in the hands of his faithful Rolande Falcinelli and assume the title of director of that august institution.

Much nonsense has been written and muttered-about concerning the so-called Olympian aloofness of Marcel Dupré but the facts, as well as the testimonies of his pupils, tell a very different story. It is true that the moment he began playing, one felt strongly the presence of an artistic giant—a god of music. In that respect his playing was quite unlike any other of my acquaintance. Privately, he was the most affectionate and loving master that one could possibly imagine, full of fatherly care for every aspect of one’s life and thought. High standards and unremitting work were necessary but he inspired and guided with a unique, genial humor and sweetness.

Boggs, I believe, was an almost ideal subject for study with Dupré. With his superb pianism (very important to the master) and his familiarity with the Parisian organ school, he was able to imbibe the maximum benefit from study in Meudon. Boggs’ fine Southern manners would have been appreciated by the Dupré family. In addition, he brought Dupré repertoire that would not have been part of the usual conservatory organ class drill (i.e., the Reubke Sonata). The notoriously miserable organ in the Salle d’Orgue had recently been replaced by a new, electric-action instrument. Dupré was able to provide this venue for Boggs’ début in 1953.

As a fitting coda to his years of study, Boggs earned his DMA at Ann Arbor in 1963. He studied with Helen Hewitt’s classmate, Robert Noehren, another member of Farnam’s celebrated Curtis organ class.* Marilyn Mason was also an influence, with her connection to Palmer Christian, a sometime pupil of both Straube and Guilmant.

Alexander Boggs Ryan had an acute sense that this great cloud of witnesses had contributed in many and various ways to his musical footprint. In my opinion, his best years as a player were, roughly speaking, a ten-year period from 1954 to 1964. Everything that he played seemed to contain a leading soprano line and cantabile legato, including Reger, a composer that benefited greatly from his relaxed, lyric approach. 

—Karl Watson

Staten Island, New York 

 

*In the years before his early death, Lynnwood Farnam taught the first organ class at the then newly founded Curtis Institute of Music. The members of the class were Lawrence Apgar, Robert Cato, Helen Hewitt, Alexander McCurdy, Robert Noehren, and Carl Weinrich. 

 

Letters

CONSERVATOIRE NATIONAL
DE MUSIQUE

PARIS, le 22 February 1955

14, RUE DE MADRID, 8E

LABORDE 20-80

LE DIRECTEUR

I have pleasure to state that Mr. Alexander Boggs Ryan who has studied organ with me during a year has proved a most interesting and satisfactory student. Through steady and intelligent work he has made continued progress. He has a fine brilliant technique and undeniable musical gifts.

He has been through an exhaustive repertory of classical and modern works with me and given a fine organ recital which has won him applause in the organ hall of the National Conservatory of music in Paris. Serious and earnest in his work, of perfect good-breeding, I am confident he will fulfil with distinction any post he may be entrusted with.

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

November 12th 1961

My dear friend,

I returned from concerts in Germany last night and found your good letter for which many thanks. I was glad to hear your news about your work and activities.

I am sending you the photos dedicated. When I have a little time, I will look up whether I have the signature of Philipp and Widor, but I am leaving to-night for a concert tour in England and have still much work on hand.

The concert for Liszt’s commemoration was not a recital, but a concert with orchestra at Palais de Chaillot. Two transcriptions of mine for organ and orchestra were performed, with myself at the organ and the Pasdeloup orchestra: Fantasy on “ad nos” and the transcription of the piano work “St. Francois de Paule marchant sur les flots.” Both had a great success.

Yes, the long-playing record of Dora Poteet was sent to me. Her death has been a great sorrow for us. She was such a remarkable artist and a fine woman.

I also have the photo taken at St. Sulpice with Widor, Philipp and myself, but thank you all the same for your
kind thought.

I certainly was most happy about the wonderful reception I had in Detroit and it was so good to see again so many old students such as yourself and so many friends who had come from quite a distance.

With affectionate thoughts from Madame Dupré and myself and best wishes for continued success,

Yours ever,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

March 27, 1962

My dear friend,

Many thanks for your letter. It was kind of you to write about the article on Alexandre Guilmant.

Thanks for the interesting programs you sent me and for the French program for your third recital.

I congratulate you on your recent fine appointment at Western Michigan University and am very happy to see that your hard work and talent are being acknowledged. I shall always be interested in the progress of your musical career.

The centenary of the organ of Saint-Sulpice will be commemorated on May 3rd. It was dedicated on April 29, 1862 by César Franck, Guilmant and Saint-Saens. So, I shall play some of their music, also my Passion-Symphony etc. The organ is always magnificent.

With warmest regards,

Sincerely,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

April 25, 1962

My dear friend,

Many thanks for your kind letter, for the interesting programs you gave in New-York and for the photo at the organ in Detroit. I am returning the other two which I have inscribed according to your wish.

With every good wish,

Cordially,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

P. S. In 1956, I recorded several works for the Westminster Co. on the St. Sulpice organ, among which my “Stations of the Cross.” I know the Company has had financial difficulties, and I have, of course, never got any royalties, but this is not what I am concerned about. I have written to them to inquire whether my “Stations of the Cross” were available, but they never replied. The recording of that big work means a lot to me and I should be more than sorry if my work came to nothing.

Do you know anything about it or could you kindly make some inquiries? Many thanks in advance.

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

May 10th 1962

My dear friend,

Many thanks for your letters and for the information about the Westminster Co. and their successor. I am writing to them.

How kind of you to have got my “Stations of the Cross” as a gift to me. I shall let you know when the record comes. I have the two other records.

I am sending you the program of the St. Sulpice organ centenary. The concert was a tremendous success. Thousands packed the church and the organ sounded more gloriously than ever.

Concerning the rebuild of Notre-Dame, the rebuild is not completed yet. The new console has been connected with the organ, but the combinations are not ready yet, nor the new stops. So, at the present moment, but for the new console, the organ is as it was.

As for Saint-Sulpice, I keep my own beautiful console and organ as they are, as they were when I started playing there as Widor’s assistant over fifty years ago.

I am sorry not to be able to send you a program of the bi-centennial of Liszt, but I have none left.

With kindest regards and best wishes,

Yours cordially,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

October 14, 1962

My dear friend,

I am just back from Holland, where I gave four recitals during the week and find your letter, for which I thank you. I am delighted to hear you are doing so well both in your teaching and concerts. Thanks for the interesting clippings you sent.

I am glad to hear you will play at Rockefeller Chapel, Chicago during Lent. Such a magnificent organ! I shall think of you playing my “Stations.”

As regards the Variations of the Symphonie Gothique, it was Widor’s wish that one of them, the Canon in trio form, should be omitted. He considered it as too scholastic, so I always complied with his wish.

When I write to Marriott, I will certainly put in a good word about you.

You inquire about my activities? The next will be the performance of my Oratorio, “La France au Calvaire,” for choir, soloists, organ and orchestra, at Palais de Chaillot on November 4th at the Pasdeloup concerts.

Then I am leaving for Switzerland on November 10th. I have another busy year ahead. A new organ work of mine will be released this month.

We both keep in the best of health.

With every good wish,

Cordially,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

§

 

Tuesday, 12 February 1963

Dear M. Dupré:

This is my first communication to you in 1963, and I trust that this finds you and Mme. Dupré feeling well and busily engaged in activities that you both love so much.

We have had a terrible winter so far: much more snow than in former record years. I’m not used to it, of course, originating from Texas, but am confronted with the facts at hand.

I hope to finish my Doctorate at the University of Michigan by June. I’m working on my third and final recital, which will be all French. It includes some of your “Stations” as well as your “Noel Variations.” In addition, I’m preparing a document on all three recitals, which will contain program notes and an analysis of some 30 works.

Is M. Legouix (the second-hand music dealer) still alive? The reason I ask is that, when I studied with you ten years ago, I bought a considerable amount of music from him in rare editions—mostly German publications that had long been out of print. At that time I studied the Reubke “Sonata” with you, which I performed at the Conservatoire. I tried to locate an “original” of that work, originally published by J. Schuberth & Co., Leipzig. This organ-work was not among Legouix’s holdings at the time, although he promised to get me a copy. I have never heard from him since.

Now, the point is this: I would like, if possible, to get these compositions from Legouix. They are all works by Julius Reubke, and would be helpful in the preparation of my document. They include piano works, also. They are the following, and I’d appreciate your giving M. Legouix a call on the phone in order that he might make some inquiries for me. For this favor, I’d be
most appreciative:

Titles, as they appear in German:

Organ: 1) Sonate in c moll. Der 94ste Psalm. J. Schuberth

Piano: 2) Sonate in c moll. Der 94ste Psalm. Edition Cotta

(transcribed for piano by August Stradal, Stuttgart, 1926)

Piano: 3) Sonate in B moll. J. Schuberth

Piano: 4) Scherzo (not certain of publisher, probably J. Schuberth)

The above enumeration indicates one copy of each, as to get will take some work on the part of M. Legouix.

Cher maître, I realize that you are a busy man. If you do not have time to attend to this for me, just send me the address of M. Legouix. I don’t have it, or would write to him direct.

Am off for recitals in Chicago, Wichita (Kansas), Columbus (Ohio), and New York City during March and April. Wish me luck.

Sincerely,

(signed) Alexander Boggs Ryan

 

P. S. I forgot to tell you. My information states that Stradal also made an organ edition of the Reubke “Sonata,” in which he made some corrections (notes) indicated by Liszt. This was also Edition Cotta, and I’m interested in this, too. So tell Legouix about it. Thanks.

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

March 18th, 1963

My dear friend,

I apologize for this belated answer to your letter, but we have been away a good deal.

We found Legouix address, which is:

4 Rue CHAUVEAU-LAGARDE

8e

Madame Dupré called at the shop this afternoon and was received by Madame Legouix from whom she heard that her husband died seven years ago accidentally. But she is carrying on his work with some help. She could not tell me whether she had the works you ask for, but is going to make some research and let me know. She took my phone number and has your list of works in hand.

So, as soon as I have some news, I will let you know.

Cordially yours,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

October 2, 1963

My dear friend,

As soon as your letter of August 7 arrived I wrote to Madame Legouix saying you had never heard from her and asking whether she had been able to find any of the rare editions you wanted.

Her reply to my letter came yesterday only. (She may have been away during the summer vacation.) A very short reply it was as you may see, at the back of the first letter you wrote in February. (“With my apologies for not finding this.” L. Legouix) I am sorry it will prove disappointing for you.

Our most sincere congratulations on your Doctor’s degree from the University of Michigan.

We were shocked to hear about Parvin Titus’ terrible accident but were somewhat relieved when we were told recently by Mr. Cunkle, the editor of “The Diapason,” that he was getting better. But his poor wife!

With affectionate regards from both,

(signed) J. Dupré

 

§

 

December 3, 1963

M. and Mme. Marcel Dupré

40, Boulevard Anatole France

Meudon, S.- et - O.

France

My dear friends :

It is with a sense of extreme regret that I have just read of the passing of your daughter, Marguerite, on October 26, 1963. I had no idea that she had been desperately ill, and there was no indication of this in Mme. Dupré’s letter of early October.

Herefore, please accept my sincerest sympathies in this your hour of extreme sorrow. Please convey to Marguerite’s husband and her children my heartfelt shock upon receiving this news.

I am looking forward to seeing you next summer, as I contemplate my first trip to Europe in ten years.

Very sincerely,

Dr. Alexander Boggs Ryan

Chairman of the Organ Dept.

Assistant Professor of Music

Western Michigan University

ABR/leh

 

P. S. In as much as Marguerite and the late Dora Poteet Barclay were close friends some twenty-five years ago, I shall inform Dora’s husband of this tragedy; for surely he will want to write to you.

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

January 6, 1964

Dear friend,

Many thanks for your letter of sympathy in our great sorrow. We are heart-broken, for our beloved Marguerite always filled our lives with happiness. Life will never be the same again for us. But we have to go on for the dear children she has left us.

Mr. Dupré is very courageous, though, and has resumed all his duties. Music helps us and I am always looking forward to St. Sulpice on Sundays.

We are going next week to Frankfurt, where a group of organists is to give a concert of M. Dupré’s works, and the day before, he will be giving a recital of French music.

We have read the programs you sent us with great interest, always touched about your devotion to your master’s music.

Affectionately Yours,

J. Dupré

 

§

 

Mr. & Mme. Marcel Dupré

40, BOULEVARD ANATOLE 

FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

Telephone 14-45

Observatoire

Undated handwritten notecard

Dear friend,

Many thanks for your nice card and for the interesting press notices. We are happy to know your concerts are so successful. We both keep well and Mr. Dupré is as busy as ever with concert playing, composition and teaching. He has made some new recordings for Philips recently—a disc of Bach Chorales.

 

§

 

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

92 – MEUDON

027-14-45

Friday 23 July 1971

My dear friend,

Your letter reached me this morning and I was profoundly moved by all you wrote from your heart. Yes, I have received letters and telegrams by hundreds from all over the world and am far from having answered them all. But yours, which came apart, gets this returned answer.

The sudden passing away of my beloved husband was a terrible shock. On Whit-Sunday, May 30th, he was playing his two masses at St. Sulpice, ending at 12 o’clock with an improvisation on the Easter Alleluia which a friend had requested, and a few hours later, at the end of the afternoon, all was over. After St. Sulpice, we had driven back home, had a quiet lunch together, then he read his Sunday paper and said suddenly: “I feel a little cold; I am going to lie down on my bed.” Shortly after, he lost consciousness and passed without any pain. When the Doctors arrived, there was nothing to be done; rupture of abdominal aneurism.

I am heart-broken. After our many years spent together in such close union, the loss of that wonderful companion, so great, but so simple, so kind, so loving is so hard to bear. 

But I thank God for his peaceful end, a blessing for him, this end he deserved after his great life of devotion to his art, to his students, to his friends, and his humanity. Everybody loved him. 

I try to get some strength from so many happy memories of our life, particularly from the very last ones. On April 22, he played for the last time in London, at the Albert Hall for the celebration of the centenary of the Hall in which he had given his first concert abroad in a concert hall fifty years before, in December 1920. He had such an ovation from the impressive crowd: 7000 people. We were both deeply moved. I am sorry I have no programs of the Albert Hall.

Then for his 85th birthday, there was a most moving evening at St. Sulpice: his oratorio “De Profundis” was sung during the first hour, then a big group of his former pupils at the Conservatoire where he had taught for 28 years, gathered around him in the centre of the church; Messiaen, Langlais, Cochereau, Mme. Durufle, etc., etc., read beautiful tributes before him.

A week later, on May 13th, Rolande Falcinelli who succeeded him as the head of the organ class when he was appointed Director of the Conservatoire gave a recital with his 2nd Symphony and he concluded the recital by a great improvisation.

The funeral took place at St. Sulpice on June 3rd, in the packed church. The service was so beautiful, with the Requiem Gregorian Mass which I had requested.

He was buried in our little cemetery in Meudon, a few minutes from our home, with our darling Marguerite. We both used to go to her grave every day. Now I go alone until I join them.

Marguerite was our only child. The girl you saw at the concert last year was a cousin from Rouen.

Now, I am trying to be courageous for my three grandchildren, all three students and who still need me. They are sweet kids and their grandfather loved them so.

With many thanks for your sympathy,

Sadly Yours,

J. Marcel-Dupré

 

P. S. I don’t get The Diapason and would be so grateful if you would send me a clipping of the article.

 

§

 

French Institute

(Institut de France)

Academy of Arts

(Académie des Beaux-Arts)

Funeral of Marcel Dupré,

Member of the Musical Composition division,

held in St. Sulpice Church

Paris, 3rd June 1971.

 

ORATIONS

By

M. Jacques Carlu,

President of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

And

M. Emmanuel Bondeville,

Permanent Secretary of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

 

Paris,

MCMLXXI

Institute publication

Printers to the Institute:

1971 No. 13

Firmin-Didot & Co.

Rue Jacob 56.

 

ORATION

by

M. Jacques Carlu

President of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

Madame,

My dear colleagues,

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is with deep emotion that I come here today, bringing in the name of the whole Académie des Beaux-Arts, a last farewell to our illustrious colleague and friend Marcel Dupré, who has been taken away so suddenly from the affectionate companionship of his family and his countless disciples and admirers.

On this sad day, it is not only the French Institute and our society which shares your mourning, Madame, but also the whole world of music or as one can truly put it, all the musicians in the world, for, in the unanimous opinion of his peers, Marcel Dupré must be classed in the first rank among musicians, composers and organists of all time.

Member of the music division of the Académie des Beaux-Arts 15 years, he was one of the most remarkable figures in its long history.

Without any doubt Dupré was a great artist, as his whole life and career bear witness, and his immense musical output will presently be described for us by his lifelong friend and companion, and fellow native of Rouen, our permanent secretary, the musician Emmanuel Bondeville, with all his wide knowledge and the brotherly affection he felt for the musician who has passed away.

But one didn’t have to be a musician to admire Marcel Dupré, for although not everyone is gifted with a good ear, you only needed to have a heart in order to love the man.

For among all those who in many countries have drawn near to Marcel Dupré, is there a single one who could forget the man, the friend, or the master? He was so innately good and infinitely gracious, always ready to share the fruits of his experience and his immense talent.

Whatever the circumstances he could never be selfish or insensible—his natural and unvarying kindliness would not allow it. So the great artist Marcel Dupré was surrounded by much admiration and loving respect among all the circles he frequented.

Rarely can France have possessed a better ambassador for the art and culture of our country, hence the warmth of the welcome which greeted him on his numerous tours abroad, especially in the United States.

Happily he is not dead altogether since a large part of himself will never pass away. Then Death, where is thy victory? For he will pass through this supreme test and emerge still greater; and the glorious reputation which he leaves us is as the sun shining from the world beyond the grave.

Thinking of the life of the soul in the kingdom of shade which is now his, where is the new Paul Valery who can describe for us in the style of “Eupalinos” the fascinating discussions which Marcel Dupré will be able to have with his well-loved J. S. Bach, and with all the giants of music whom he will meet in the Elysian Fields.

For us, it remains to measure the enormous void created by the disappearance of our dear and illustrious colleague. One can succeed to the post of a Marcel Dupré, but one can never replace him.

In this day of sadness, Madame, may I express to you and your children the deep and sorrowing sympathy felt by the members of the Academy of Arts, all of whom share your grief. But as the great Christian orator Massillon, who belonged to the Academy more than two centuries ago and whose statue stands before us in this Square of Saint-Sulpice, said in one of his famous sermons: “the feelings which a sudden death arouse in our hearts are feelings of a day of grief, as though death itself was a matter of a single day.”

Dear Marcel Dupré, our friend and colleague, you rest assured that our grief will be unending.

 

ORATION

pronounced by

M. Emmanuel BONDEVILLE

Permanent Secretary of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

Madame,

My dear Colleagues,

Ladies and Gentlemen,

How can one call to mind the great figure of Marcel Dupré without recapitulating the main stages of the career which marked his astonishing and ineluctable ascendance?

He had this great privilege of the strong, of following with sureness the ordained path, climbing it with firm undeviating steps, and reaching the higher summits by an unbroken ascending curve.

He always remained close to his roots. The rue du Vert-Buisson, at Rouen, was an excellent musical centre. The province and regions provide generous facilities for the arts, for study, practice, and the faith which gives life meaning and nobility.

Albert Dupré, the organist of St. Ouen, which possesses one of the finest organs in France, used to run a choral society “Perfect Harmony” (L’Accord Parfait), which enabled the music-lovers of Rouen to become familiar with the masterpieces of music, notably the great works of Bach. His wife, Alice Dupré, a cellist, possessed a lively musical intelligence.

In such a home, an exceptionally gifted child found the most favourable climate possible for the flowering of his talents. Without having frequented that blessed dwelling, called simply “le Vert-Buisson” (the green bush)—the name of the street—by the people of Rouen, one could not possibly assess how much ardour, hard work, and faith, the love of a difficult art can muster in order to achieve the most important objectives, which are to arouse curiosity, to consolidate knowledge, and to create enthusiasm.

For his enlightened parents applied the utmost care in nourishing the talent of Marcel Dupré, which declared itself early. At the age of twelve, he performed the opening recital on the organ at the church of St. Vivien. He soon became a living legend for the young musicians of the town. My mother was always talking to me about him, with the ardour of an admiring music-lover, who hoped to inspire her young offspring at an early age with sound reasons for working, hoping, and admiring in his turn.

These reasons quickly multiplied. Recitals succeeded one another, keeping always the same high standard of perfection. Prizes accumulated, marking the fruits of a complete musical training, including as they did prizes for performance on the piano and the organ, and the Grand Prix de Rome for composition. At the same time, to hear Marcel Dupré praising the teaching of Guilmant and Widor, was a lesson in their contribution to music, but it was also a lesson in modesty, a spiritual quality which this great man never forsook.

In spite of these successes, which gave as much pleasure to those who loved him as they did to himself, an even higher summit was to be reached in 1920, when Marcel Dupré played in ten recitals the whole of the organ works of John Sebastian Bach, from memory.

This wasn’t merely a feat of stupendous prowess, but a manifestation of something even greater, for Marcel Dupré had performed these recitals with the meticulous care which he insisted on applying to every act, whether of interpretation or of creation. “Do you know,” said his father one day to me, “that before giving these recitals, Marcel consulted all the editions, and all the available manuscripts of the works of Bach, particularly those in the Berlin library?”

The news of these concerts was to spread like lightning. One of the most impressive figures of the art of sound had revealed himself.

At the same time, Marcel Dupré brought the art of improvisation to an undreamt of level of proficiency. Here, too, there was no room for mere facility. A rigorous mastery led to fullness of expression. Each work revealed the fathomless resources offered by a simple theme, but instead of this result being achieved by patient work at the desk, the edifice of sound sprang forth from an act of spontaneous creation.

It is true that the act of improvisation had had some impressive exponents. César Franck had made an unforgettable impression on those who heard his improvisations on the organ at St. Clothilde during the Magnificat.

Dupré’s teacher, Widor, was equally admired. But his pupil’s contribution gave the king of instruments a still greater primacy. Alone of instruments, the organ enables a single player to build a whole cathedral of sound on the spot, using a variety of tone colours to rival the orchestra. As he unceasingly developed his talent, Marcel Dupré attained a breadth of expression hitherto unknown.

His tours of America began at that time, and soon set the seal on his reputation as the premier French organist; he amazed his transatlantic audience by improvising a complete symphony in four movements for the first time in the history of organ music.

He knew fame. This manifested itself in many ways, sometimes the most unexpected and simple ways, which were all the more moving, like the time when a young Australian came to work in my family and asked, on her arrival, “Where can one hear the organist Marcel Dupré?”

The composer didn’t relinquish his work. Rarely can the improviser and the composer have been so perfectly matched as in the person of Marcel Dupré, for his spontaneous impulses, like his reflective and poignant meditations, were as perfect as the written composition.

To list his works, which ranged from the instrumental solo to the lyrical fresco, would take up the whole of this speech. In any case there is available for reference the very thorough bibliographical study by his learned pupil, Canon Robert Delestre. But, to continue along our path in the company of the Master, we can halt at the Preludes and Fugues, which, composed as early as 1912, represent an astonishing enrichment of organ technique.

Speaking of these works, Marcel Dupré, the innovator, fully master of his bold strokes of composition, said “All I did was to follow Bach’s example . . . There’s no place for academicism in fugue, whatever one may think.”

In subsequent works, the “Suite Bretonne,” the “Symphonie-Passion,” the “Chemin de la Croix,” he went on to develop more fully this rich style of composition, to cite a few examples, for his extremely orderly mind yet found room for bold experiment. A short time ago, reading through scores by young composers, he showed me the interest which lay in examining new techniques by listening for their structure, their quest for new sounds.

Very early, the main lines of his life were set. With what mastery he mapped out his route! He was never to deviate from the chosen path: he embellished it continually.

The former pupil of Diemer, of Guilmant, and of Widor was to become Professor of Organ at the Conservatoire and Director of the illustrious institution.

What were his merits as a teacher? We have no need to enumerate them. On the 7th May last, at St. Sulpice, after hearing his “De Profundis,” his former pupils paid him homage and their famous names show that the continuity of his work and mission are assured.

A few weeks ago, he went back to Rouen and visited again the house of his parents, “le Vert Buisson,” and played the organ at St Ouen.

The world’s most glittering successes had never altered his affection for those he always revered, his family. He always spoke of them with moving tenderness.

He was so discreet and secret in his inmost thoughts that, in order to know him well, one had to be favoured with his affection. How his face shone when he spoke of his family. He expressed himself then with a contained warmth which was stronger than loud bursts of sound, for this master of sound was also master of his heart. When he gave his affection, how comforting was his welcome! Whether it was in his joyful home at Saint-Valery-en-Caux or the great organ room at Meudon, his arms were wide open to welcome those who in their turn followed the same path. They knew, of course, that a superior being was receiving them. 

The rarest gifts were magnified by an uncompromising conscience, and a strict application to work, so as to achieve a constant elevation of talent and thought. Those of us who have sat next to him on the organ bench at St. Sulpice know what is genius.

His finest praise was spoken by his former pupil, now famous, Olivier Messiaen, who, speaking of his master, Marcel Dupré, called him “the modern Liszt.”

Liszt, the noblest figure in the history of music, a generous spirit and a discoverer of new sounds—he combined a stupendous virtuosity with compositions which broke new ground in their development of the resources of music. Let us keep in our minds this brief and complete tribute.

When his admirers mourn him all over the world, you, Madame, who have been his attentive and so much loved partner in life, will receive the greatest comfort from his hands. You know that his name will remain what he made it—that of one of the greatest of men.

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

92—MEUDON

027-14-45

May 26, 1972

Dear friend,

Many thanks for your good letter from Hamburg. I will be happy to see you during your short visit in Paris.

Will you come to Meudon on Monday May 29, about 3 p. m. You have got a train from Montparnasse station at 2:51 p.m.

Nearly a year has elapsed since my beloved husband left us. This month of May with all its last-memories of our life is so sad!

With affectionate wishes,

J. Marcel Dupré

 

Special thanks to Linda Ryan Thomas; to Trinity Episcopal Church, Longview, Texas, Bill Bane, organist-choirmaster; and to Kilgore College, Kilgore, Texas, Dr. William Holda, president, and Jeanne Johnson, chair of music and dance, for allowing access to Alexander Boggs Ryan’s complete personal library, and for granting permission to reprint these letters and memorabilia.

Lorenz Maycher is organist-choirmaster at First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas, and founding director of the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival. He is a frequent contributor to The Diapason, which has published his interviews with Thomas Richner, William Teague, Nora Williams, Albert Russell, and Robert Town, as well as his series of articles “From the Clarence Dickinson Collection.” Maycher is also director of the Vermont Organ Academy, a website promoting articles and recordings devoted to the Aeolian-Skinner legacy.

Karl Watson was a pupil of Alexander McCurdy at the Curtis Institute and, during 1970, of Marcel Dupré in Meudon. He has served both Protestant and Catholic churches on the East Coast. 

December 16, 1910-August 4, 2002

by William Osborne, J. Bunker Clark, Haig Mardirosian, and Ronald E. Dean

J. Bunker Clark is editor of Harmonie Park Press. He taught organ and theory at Stephens College (1957-59), was organist and choirmaster at Christ Church Cranbrook (1959-61), taught music history and harpsichord at the University of California, Santa Barbara (1964-65), and music history at the University of Kansas from 1965 until retiring in 1993.

 

William Osborne holds three degrees from the University of Michigan. He serves Denison University in Granville, Ohio as Distinguished Professor of Fine Arts, University Organist, and Director of Choral Organizations.

 

Haig Mardirosian is Associate Dean of Academic Affairs and Professor of Music at American University. He is also Organist and Choirmaster at the Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes, Washington, DC, and a recitalist, recording artist, writer, and consultant on organ building.

Ronald E. Dean is on the faculty of Centenary College, Shreveport, Louisiana.

Robert Noehren died on August 4 in San Diego, California, at the age of 91. (See "Nunc Dimittis," The Diapason, September 2002, p. 8.) International recitalist, recording artist, author, scholar, professor and university organist at the University of Michigan, and organbuilder, Noehren enjoyed a long and remarkable career, and was clearly one of the major figures of our profession in the 20th century.

His many recordings and recitals evidenced a special kind of organ playing: the highest standards of musicianship, devoid of superficial excesses, quiet and controlled console manner; indeed, his technique seemed to become quieter and easier the more difficult and virtuosic the music became. He continued to practice the organ daily and record up until his death, carried on extensive correspondence, had plans for another commercial recording on his organ in Buffalo, was preparing a talk for the AIO convention this month, was working on a cookbook of his favorite recipes, and continued to enjoy music, art, fine wine, good food, and friends from all over the world.

Below follow tributes in Noehren's honor, by William Osborne, Bunker Clark, and Haig Mardirosian, and a review by Ronald Dean of Noehren's Bach CD which was released last year, in addition to a listing of his articles and news releases as featured in The Diapason. Requiescat in pace.

--Jerome Butera

Robert Noehren: A Remembrance

When Jerry Butera, Ron Dean and I shared a meal during the Organ Historical Society gathering in Chicago on the final day of June, we regaled ourselves with tales about and from the man who had had such a seminal influence on us and a host of others, assuming that he would endure virtually forever, little anticipating the shocking news of his sudden death only weeks later. He had suffered the loss of his devoted wife only months earlier, but on the evidence of telephone conversations had seemed quickly to reconcile himself to this new phase of his incredibly rich life, determined to get on with his latest passions, energetically practicing daily at age ninety-one on his electronic [sic!] house organ, wrestling with what he could possibly say to a conclave of pipe organ builders in Los Angeles during an upcoming invited lecture, listening intently to CDs drawn from his immense collection, having been recently attracted particularly to the playing of pianist Ivo ogorelich.

A consummate man of the organ, he was nonetheless not preoccupied with the instrument, always fascinated by a wide range of human understanding.  For example, when the Noehrens made the decision to relocate to suburban San Diego after a particularly harsh Ann Arbor winter, the significant tragedy of their transfer was a wayward moving van stranded in the desert heat of the Southwest, a delay that turned the man's substantial and valuable wine collection to vinegar. I suspect that in retrospect he might have preferred to express himself through a medium other than the organ, since he was constantly dissatisfied with so many examples of the instrument, especially his inability to make music on them to his satisfaction. In fact, he suggested that his students could learn more about elegant music-making by observing a fine singer, violinist or pianist, and, when time permitted, he practiced Chopin or Debussy at the piano, although never in public.

It seems a bit incredible that he retired from studio teaching at the University of Michigan more than four decades ago, and that at least a few of his students have preceded him in death. I, for one, found him a rather reluctant pedagogue. When provoked, he could be enormously enthusiastic and insightful, but one had to work to attract his attention. He loved to tell a story that he attributed to George Faxon, but which I suspect was meant to mirror his own predicament. Supposedly Faxon had in his Boston studio a very comfortable upholstered chair where he ensconced himself as he directed a student to play straight through a big Bach prelude and fugue. As the piece proceeded, he would brush the lint off his jacket, adjust his shoelaces, settle back, and gradually fall completely asleep. The student, having finished his performance, would turn expectantly, at which point Faxon would suddenly rouse himself and blurt out: "Bravo! Play it again!"

Robert Noehren also frustrated and even infuriated many in a profession rife with calcified credos by remaining in a constant condition of quest. I joked that it was impossible to ride a Noehren bandwagon because, as his would-be disciples were clambering on one side, he had already jumped off the other and moved on to some new position. Recall the man's seminal role in the organ Renaissance in this country. He was one of the first to study the classic European instruments to the extent that he was able to understand and explain what made the instruments of Schnitger and Cavaillé-Coll tick. Those of us privileged to experience his organ design course can vouch for that wisdom. It was also Robert Noehren who was crucial in bringing to this country in 1957 that groundbreaking von Beckerath instrument in Cleveland's Trinity Lutheran Church. I can remember driving from Ann Arbor to Cleveland in a snowstorm to experience the incredible revelations that it offered. So, how did a man devoted to the principles the Beckerath manifested become a builder of instruments based on direct electric action and incredible amounts of borrowing and duplexing? Hard to say, except to acknowledge that he later pretty much disavowed that facet of his career, although expressing annoyance over those attempts to redress some of the mechanical problems he bequeathed the instruments' owners. He did assert that his foray into organ building resulted from his failure to find an established builder who was willing put his ideals into practice. Recall also that the best of his instruments were and are ones of distinction, and that he was a pioneer in considering the possibility of computer-driven combination systems, even though the clunky, punchcard system that he and a Michigan Engineering colleague devised seems hopelessly antiquated now.

Even though he has left us physically, his legacy will surely survive in the form of his immense discography and the many provocative, sometimes quixotic writings published in this journal and elsewhere.

What will survive as well for those of us privileged to know him is the memory of a man with a generous sense of humor (I will never forget the look on his face when asked in a studio class by a pompous doctoral student how one properly mounts the bench); an immense, eclectic repertory (e. g., as I recall, virtually nobody on this side of the Atlantic was aware of Tournemire when Noehren began to champion the man); an intense musicality at his chosen instrument that nonetheless refused curtailment by any of the various performance "isms" by which the profession lives (Furthermore, I, as one who was privileged to assist him often, for example in the series of sixteen all-Bach programs he played in Hill Auditorium before such marathons became fashionable, was always amazed that, while he advocated marking scores extensively, he always seemed to play from pages untouched by a pencil.); an incredible range of experiences (e. g., as a young church organist in Buffalo being asked to play the two existing Hindemith sonatas for their composer, thereby indirectly provoking the writing of the last of the trilogy); a man of immense principle who retired from active teaching prematurely when confronted with a Michigan dean who asked him to create the country's largest organ department (he seems to have been prescient enough to have anticipated the future state of the profession and thus suggested as an alternative the country's finest, albeit compact organ program); and, last, but hardly least, the sense that organists are all too often insular in their perspective, encouraging all with whom he was associated to seek out and embrace the full  range of human experience.

RN, we will miss you.

--William Osborne

From his editor

"Gee, it's hard to play the organ, isn't it?"--cliché by Robert Noehren after hearing a student trying to play a difficult piece.

"Gee, it's hard to produce a book about the organ"--my cry in the process of working with Bob on An Organist's Reader.

Bob had been talking about doing a book for some years, but I'm proud of persuading him to begin in earnest in 1995. He sent a box two years later, and after two more years of phone calls and letters concerning the details, the box was sent to Harmonie Park Press in February 1997, and the result appeared in November 1999.

I'd known Bob since going to Ann Arbor in 1950, but after my piano days unfortunately never took organ with him. Nonetheless, I was lucky to audit several of his classes on the history of the organ--which, in retrospect, helped considerably in checking details of historic instruments. Even then, it was embarrassing to both of us to have a good friend point out the omission of thirteen pedal stops from the 1576 organ of  the Georgenkirche, Eisenach. (Harmonie Park Press has an errata slip, or get it at .) But this omission had not been discovered when that article had previously been published in the Riemenschneider Bach Institute's Bach no fewer than three times, 1975, 1985, and 1995! It's only logical that an organ associated with Bach would have more than two pedal registers, no?

He correctly defended Grobgedackt, against my proposal of Großgedackt. As for another detail, does one use the modern German "K" for Katharinenkirche, or the original spelling Catharinenkirche, Hamburg? (we used the latter). Lüdingworth has an umlaut; otherwise it would seem to be a village in England. So does the composer Jean-Jacques Grünenwald, even though he was French. The foregoing represents a survey of some 54 pages of letters on my computer, which also has comments on a trip to Italy; Eloise's new hip, fall 1997; and his bout with cancer, early 2000.

I had attended many of his Ann Arbor recitals, and have seen the two-story end of the Noehren living room in Ann Arbor which housed his Hausorgel. But Lyn and I really got to know Bob much better when he taught at the University of Kansas, fall 1975; we had Thanksgiving and several other similar occasions together. What a wonderful human being! I already miss our more recent phone chats, in which he described his interest in a proper diet (indeed, published as an article in these pages last year), in our mutual enjoyment of a pre-dinner drink, his interest in audio equipment and recent recordings (usually not of organ music), and in a joke. And I miss his Christmas cards (the design of one is on the cover of his book).

Bob Noehren was very modest--but a hard worker when preparing a recital. He was not vain, but I'm certain he was very proud of the discography and recitals (a representation of programs appears in his book). Above all, in spite of and perhaps due to, his quiet and unassuming manner, his playing never highlighted the performer, but always the music, as if to say "I've studied this piece hard, and here is what I found out."

--J. Bunker Clark

Letters from Noehren

I never met Robert Noehren, yet I am humbled to be able to call him a friend. In the last three years of his life, Noehren and I had corresponded regularly through a series of letters, a thread of correspondence initiated somewhat coincidently.

In my academic administrative capacity, I was at work during 1997 with a project team charged with drafting a self-study report to my university's regional accrediting agency. Our member from the university's publications office, Trudi Rishikoff, saw to the style and editing of the finished document. At some stage of the process, Trudi mentioned that she had learned that I was an organist. Did I know her Uncle Bob?

Uncle Bob, it turned out, was Robert Noehren. With what must have been obvious mirth at this serendipitous news, I told Trudi of my high esteem for Noehren, the thrill of having played a recital on one of his instruments, the honor of having reviewed several of his recordings for both The American Organist and Fanfare, but even more, of the inspiration that I had derived from listening to him perform, both on disc and live, early in my career. I asked Trudi to convey those sentiments and my kindest respects to her uncle.

About the same time, my editors forwarded for review a CD comprising reissues of various Lyrichord recordings by Robert Noehren. These amounted to seminal performances on several of his instruments (as well as others) and an assortment of repertoire attesting to the performer's all-embracing musical interests. The disc merited its title, "A Robert Noehren Retrospective."

Months later, a long letter arrived from Robert Noehren, the first of many in which we discussed issues of mutual interest--musicians, repertoire, organs. Noehren's beautifully composed and printed texts (for openers, I marveled at the deliberate care in writing these and his obvious fluency at computing, something quite remarkable for a man about to turn 90). The composition and printing mirrored what one heard in his meticulous musicianship and performance. His critical but calculated opinions about music matched his gifted and insightful interpretation of music. His thoughts about the music and musicians of his early years in particular bespoke his own deference to tradition, origins, and lineage in composition, organ building, and pedagogy. In sum, these letters represented valedictory notes to a new friend, but they were frank, surprisingly modest, and very generous in tone and spirit. Noehren, it turned out, had wanted to contact me for some time and he had done his research too. He had gone out and found recordings by his correspondent and he had closely read any number of reviews of books and recordings. He was sizing me up!

I had just released a recording of the Suite for Organ, by Paul de Maleingreau. I had not known that Noehren regularly played the toccata from it back in the 1930s. He clearly missed the piece adding that " . . . since it is no longer in my head I am glad to be able to hear it again . . ." Of our mutual interest in Maleingreau, he observed that "it [the toccata] is such a fine work and no one else seems to be interested in Maleingreau." A second little coincidence had sealed a friendship. With that our correspondence grew more personal as well with talk about his wife Eloise, and illness, and aging. He was very sympathetic and supportive at my family's story of senior care, and the intellectual and physical changes brought on with age.

A major part of our conversations concerned organs. For two years, Noehren and I exchanged many words on organ design, organ building, and organ builders. I had made the analytical (but not malicious!) observation in my review of his Lyrichord recording that certain of the organs he built were idiosyncratic. My observation was based on experience. I had played a recital at St. John's Cathedral in Milwaukee where, in preparation, I had spent hours punching out registrations manually on the IBM data cards that comprised the combination action's memory. I had also remarked on the various subunison registers that played only to tenor C. Noehren graciously observed that "It was right for you to comment on the design of my organ in Milwaukee." He continued with a treatise on the economics of organ building, tight budgets, and resource maximization. It may have been a musician/instrument builder speaking, but it was also the voice of someone who had taught at a university and worked for the church!

Noehren tempered economic exigency with art. "I designed the organ [at St. John's Cathedral] always thinking how it was to be used musically." Saving the cost of the bottom twelve pipes of the Great 16¢ Principal on that 1965 organ allowed Noehren to add a string and some mutations to the specification. "If . . . you look at the music of Vierne, you will often see that the Gambe on the Great Organ is required in many pieces. . . . Look at most American organs. There is rarely a string on either the Great or Positiv (or Choir) organs. Indeed, there is usually an Unda Maris set. To be sure, a beautiful sound, but not very useful in much serious organ music." He questioned both his own tonal choices and those advocated by others. Robert Noehren had taken this critic earnestly, drew no offense from the opinions in print, and used the opportunity to engage in a dialog on the merits of respective tonal choices.

I later asked Noehren about Paul Hindemith, adding that my own conception of the organ sonatas was formed mainly through Noehren's recording of them. That prompted a meticulous response concerning Noehren's association with the composer. He outlined meeting Hindemith in Buffalo, where the composer lived after arriving in the United States before going to teach at Yale University, and where the organist played at a small Episcopal parish. Because Hindemith would sometimes visit the church, Noehren eventually got to know the composer well. They spent many hours together discussing interpretation and registration of the then only two sonatas, for Hindemith had just begun composing the third.

I had commented about the respective merits of romantic, colorist and dryer, abstract interpretations of the sonatas. In fact, I told Noehren that I had rebelled against my own teacher's insistence on an orchestral approach to these scores. That rebellion led to my  willful imitation of Noehren's old LP recording. He replied, "Like your teacher, I had been playing them in a rather romantic way, and I have to thank Hindemith for helping me with my musicianship during those early days. I still remember how dissatisfied he was with my performance of the last movement of the first sonata."

Noehren also voiced curiosity about instruments on which I had recorded and consulted. I had asked him about a couple of stoplists on which I was working and received immediate, candid, and helpful responses. At the time, the new organ at my own parish, the Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes in Washington, was under construction by Orgues Létourneau. I had confided in Noehren that our hope was for an instrument reflecting English tonal heritage and had sent him specs and scalings. In the end, when I sent him a recording of one of the opening concerts, his approval overjoyed me.

What was most remarkable about Robert Noehren in his last few years was the zeal with which he still played the organ on a daily basis. He had been hard at work revisiting the Orgelbüchlein, a book he felt "appropriate at my stage of life." He had just been diagnosed with serious illness and seemed to find particular comfort in the brief movements. But, he acknowledged their musical difficulties. "I might feel a bit safer in the great G-minor fugue than in the prelude on 'Heut triumphieret Gottes Sohn' with that wicked pedal passage at the end!"

While he missed access to a good pipe organ near his home in San Diego, he did own a custom electronic organ, and his curiosity and aptitude with technology had led him to electronically revoice that instrument and add several MIDI sound modules to it. This fulfilled both his need to play on a daily basis and his ongoing instinct to build "better" organs. He was carefully apologetic, but not defensive about this instrument. "I fear that you might be one who believes we have been poisoned by the advent of the electronic organ!" But, he added, that this instrument "assuages some of my frustrations." As proof--extraordinary proof--he enclosed a cassette recording of some Bach, Karg-Elert, and the Roger-Ducasse Pastorale as recorded on his house organ. Of the dazzling and poetic performance of the latter piece, made when Noehren was in his late 80s, he commented, "it is perhaps the most difficult work I have ever encountered, and it has been a constant challenge. It is technically difficult and choosing and executing the registration is no easy task." Of the thousands of organ recordings in my collection, this one, performed by an octogenarian on an electronic organ in his living room and recorded on his little cassette machine, is the most prized.

Robert Noehren had also published a book of memoirs that I had reviewed, and some of the letters to me may have well been an elaboration or gloss on the book. At one point, Noehren sent a long list of all his teachers--piano, organ, theory, composition. This early 20th century Who's Who of our profession contained several names that interested me greatly.

One of these was Charles Courboin for, as a boy, I would sit in the choir loft at St. Patrick's Cathedral and watch Dr. Courboin play for the 11:30 "organ mass." In those pre-Vatican II years, the Cathedral maintained the tradition of a low mass (rendered mostly silently by the priest at the east end) accompanied by organ music (rendered not at all silently by the virtuoso at the west end). I would, on my own, take the bus and the subway and travel down to 5th Avenue on Sunday mornings in order to hear the Solemn Mass at 10 o'clock. I would always remain for Courboin's organ mass at 11:30. It was a splendid dessert to the sung mass. Courboin would graciously welcome me to the gallery and even ask me what I would like to hear. Courboin's phenomenal memory was legendary and I don't ever recall naming a piece of repertoire that he could not simply rattle off.

One of the reasons that Courboin fascinated us both was his atypical profile for an organist. He loved fast cars and boats. He was dashing and, in Noehren's terms, "could have been mistaken for a government ambassador." While a student at the Curtis Institute during the early 1930s, Noehren had coached with Courboin. One morning, Noehren and his friend Bob Cato, Lynnwood Farnam's favorite student, were walking downtown. They ran into Courboin. "He behaved at once as if we were his best friends and suggested we all have lunch at Wanamaker's. It was then about 11:00 o'clock, and he invited us to meet him at noon at the front of the store. When we finally entered the dining room it became apparent that the luncheon had turned into a big party in a private room with at least 15 people. All I can remember of the food is that for dessert there was a great flourish as the party was presented with a huge baked Alaska prepared for the occasion."

Robert Noehren also recalled his meetings with Fernando Germani (with whom he became friends and who introduced him to Italian food and garlic), André Marchal (who influenced him musically but was "distracted by the ladies," such that, in a meeting along with Marilyn Mason, Marchal paid no attention to Noehren), Gaston Dethier (who had the most formidable technique of anyone and whose pedaling was "really phenomenal" although he eventually no longer took the organ seriously), and Lynnwood Farnam (whose playing "simply put everyone I had ever heard in the shade"). These reflections were all the more vivid as several of these legendary performers were still active in my own youth. As Noehren put it about our swapped recollections, "what a difference a generation makes!"

How does one summarize the enormous range and analytical insights of Robert Noehren? It is difficult task to be certain. His musical life spanned East Coast and West, with a long stop in between. He could be, at once, a Classicist and a Romantic. He studied old music and old organs, built modern instruments capable of playing the old, and championed scores by composers of his own day. He was the recitalist who built instruments to overcome the defects he perceived in the instruments upon which he had to play. He studied with the legends of his youth and passed that tradition on to generations of fortunate students in one of the country's most important universities. He agglomerated seemingly far-flung and inconsistent concepts, all the while making sense of their synthesis. His world was expansive and never shrank, for his all-embracing curiosity disclosed an adroit mind that slowed little even in its ninth decade. Robert Noehren zealously coveted the truth--truth as discovered, revealed, debated, or developed in theory and creativity. He grappled with and reconciled art and technology decades before such would become commonplace. He generously communicated his remarkable journey to a large audience in his writing and teaching, and even to a grateful correspondent late in his days.

Can all of this, then, amount to anything less than the absolute and comprehensive definition of professional and personal intellect, art, and, above all, integrity? I would argue not. Integrity, furthermore, takes courage, the courage to pursue truth and to assert the convictions to which one's work leads. As such, Robert Noehren was nothing less than a genuine hero. I thank God for having had a moment to know him. Requiescat in pace.

--Haig Mardirosian

Robert Noehren bibliography in The Diapason

Robert Noehren is organist and choirmaster of St. John's Church, Buffalo. November 1940, p. 22.

Robert Noehren takes up new work in Grand Rapids. September 1942, p. 3.

"Organ Building an Art Not to be Limited by Definite Styles." February 1944, p. 12.

Robert Noehren leaves Grand Rapids for war duty. March 1944, p. 23.

Famed Dutch Organ Used in Broadcast by Robert Noehren. November 1948, p. 2.

"Poitiers Cathedral Has Famous Cliquot Organ Built in 1791." June 1949, pp. 28-29.

Noehren appointed to post in Ann Arbor. September 1949, p. 4.

"Historic Schnitger Organs Are Visited; 1949 Summer Study." December 1949, p. 10; January 1950, p. 10.

Bach recitals by Noehren in Ann Arbor and Buffalo. June 1950, p. 40.

"Famous Old Organs in Holland Disprove Popular Fallacies." March 1951, pp. 8-9.

"Organ Cases Objects of Beauty in Past and Return Is Advocated." June 1951, pp. 14-15.

Michigan "U" course reorganized to make all-around organist. November 1951, p. 38.

"Schnitger Organs That Still Survive Teach New Lessons." December 1951, p. 24.

Robert Noehren on fourth tour of recitals in Europe. September 1953, p. 17.

Robert Noehren is winner of prize for his recording. November 1953, p. 1.

Robert Noehren to play in Duesseldorf. June 1954, p. 1.

"Commends Opinions of Dr. Schweitzer to Organ Designers." February 1954, p. 22.

Robert Noehren is awarded doctorate. June 1957, p. 1.

"How do you rate? Test yourself on this final exam." July 1959, p. 16.

"Music Dictates Good 2-Manual Organ Design." September 1960, pp. 12-13.

Robert Noehren . . . Northwest regional convention. April 1961, p. 16.

Noehren to act as judge at Haarlem Competition. December 1962, p. 3

"The Relation of Organ Design to Organ Playing." December 1962, pp. 8, 42-43; January 1963, pp. 8, 36-37.

Robert Noehren to give dedicatory recital on the Schlicker organ at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. March 1963, p. 24.

"The Organ and Acoustics." March 1964, pp. 26-27.

"Architectural Acoustics as related to Church Music." November 1964, pp. 40-41.

"Taste, Technique and Tone." April 1965, p. 49.

"Schnitger, Cliquot and Cavaillé-Coll: Three Great Traditions and their Meaning to Contemporary Organ Playing." November 1966, pp. 40-41; December 1966, p. 28; January 1967, pp. 48-49; February 1967, pp. 44-45.

Robert Noehren appointed Rose Morgan Professor of Organ for the fall semester of 1975 at The University of of Kansas. September 1975, p. 18.

Robert Noehren, professor of organ at the University of Michigan, retired in January 1976. June 1976, p. 2.

Robert Noehren named professor emeritus. January 1977, p. 5.

Robert Noehren elected Performer of the Year by New York City AGO. May 1978, p. 19.

"Squire Haskin--a tribute." February 1986, p. 2.

"The discography repertoire of Robert Noehren." March 1990, pp. 12-13.

"Robert Noehren at 80: A Tribute." December 1990, pp. 12-14.

"Organ Design Based on Registration." December 1991, pp. 10-11.

"A Reply to the Tale of Mr. Willis." January 1997, p. 2.

Robert Noehren celebrates his 90th birthday. December 2000, p. 3.

"Enjoying Life at 90." September 2001, pp. 15-17.

"Reflections on Life as an Organist." December 2001, pp. 17-20.

 

Johann Sebastian Bach: Organ Works. Robert Noehren, Organist. Previous unreleased recordings from 1980 issued in celebration of Robert Noehren's ninetieth birthday. Noehren organs of The Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and The First Presbyterian Church, Buffalo, New York. Fleur de Lis FL 0101-2. Available from The Organ Historical Society, P.O. Box 26811, Richmond, VA 23261; 804/353-9226; $14.98 plus shipping;

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Program: Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542; Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein, BWV 668; Wo soll ich fliehen hin, BWV 646; Partita: O Gott, du frommer Gott, BWV 767; Partita: Sei gegrüsset, Jesu gütig, BWV 768; Fugue in G Major ("Gigue"), BWV 577; Prelude and Fugue in D Minor ("Violin"), BWV 539; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543.

This new issue, like the previous Robert Noehren Retrospective produced by Lyrichord (see this journal, December, 1999, p. 11), is the result of expert remastering by Hal Chaney of analog recordings done on tape many years ago. As in the CD mentioned above, this issue features organs designed and built by Robert Noehren.

For those who are familiar with Noehren's tasteful and flexible organ playing, this issue should come as a welcome addition to his already considerable discography. Noehren was never one to endorse or follow "trendy" or merely currently fashionable playing ideas; instead, he always makes the music come alive through thoughtful application of scholarship and study of the scores to determine both just the right tempos and appropriate registrations for convincing musical communication. These features are in abundance on this new issue.

Another important facet contributing to the pleasure of this CD is the fact that the same person is both the artist and the organ builder. His clearly articulated philosophy of organ tone (see An Organist's Reader, reviewed in this journal, September, 2000, p. 10) is demonstrated here all the way from gutsy and brilliant (but never strident) principal and reed choruses to subtle smaller ensembles and solo combinations appropriate to the musical requirements. One can imagine that Noehren was able to bring forth the very sounds that were in his "mind's ear" by performing on these two rather large instruments of his own design.

All the pieces except for the two chorale partitas are performed on the 1966 organ in the Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist in Milwaukee, while the partitas show off the varied smaller ensembles and solo combinations of the instrument in The First Presbyterian Church, Buffalo, built in 1970. Both instruments are of similar size, with the Buffalo instrument (somewhat larger) notable by its frequently pictured hanging Positiv division.

Seasoned players and students alike will be inspired by the apparently effortless execution of the more demanding works and should take note of the way Noehren uses subtle rubato to point up the structure of the various forms. His elegant approach to trills and other ornaments reveal that the artist regards these items as integral parts of musical expression and not simply as whimsical and mechanical additions to the musical line.

Blessed with both an astounding playing technique and impeccable musical taste, Robert Noehren's playing as revealed on this CD should bring feelings of recognition to those who have head him in past years and should also serve as a revelation to the younger generation. Highly recommended.

--Ronald E. Dean

Centenary College

Shreveport, Louisiana