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Voice Lessons: An organist’s journey to the other side of the console

David Sims

David Sims holds degrees in church music and organ performance from St. Olaf College and Indiana University, having studied with Larry Smith, Catherine Rodland, and John Ferguson. He serves as director of music at North Christian Church in Columbus, Indiana, and does service work, wiring, and voicing for Goulding & Wood.

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In the summer of 2009, I embarked on a journey unusual for most organists: I left “our” side of the console and spent two weeks in the pipe chambers. As an employee of Goulding & Wood, Inc., of Indianapolis, I had been in plenty of organs before, but this was the first time I was able to go on a tonal finishing trip and spend as much time in the organ as playing the finished result. Because this opportunity seldom arises, I wrote the following as a reflection on the process of tonal finishing from the perspective of an organist and what lessons organists can learn from their instruments.
Among musicians, we organists might be guilty of knowing the least about our instrument. Most likely this has to do with a typical organ’s size and layout. Because of its small size, it is easy to become intimately acquainted with a violin, for example, but organs are much larger and more complex. Often the console is separated by considerable distance or height from the rest of the organ, with little hope of peering in without a ladder. Inside are tons of moving parts—the most interesting of which are sealed in a windchest that we are unable to open while the organ is on—and pipes, which look the same whether they are sounding or not.
In college and graduate school, I spent as much time taking practice organs apart as I did practicing, so it’s no surprise that after my master’s degree in performance I went to work for Goulding & Wood. After almost a year of tuning, service work, and helping in the shop, I had the opportunity to go on the tonal finishing trip for Opus 48, a 3-manual, 59-rank organ in Macon, Georgia. Growing up fascinated by organs, I always thought of voicing as a form of magic: somehow, with the right touch, someone got thousands of pipes to speak together. Our rather unique situation among musicians of having only finite and incremental control over the timbre of our music exacerbates the tendency to view voicing as magical. That is, once we get down to only one stop, we cease to have much influence over tone color or volume. The rest is, well, magic.
So what did this organist learn on a tonal finishing trip that might help on “our” side of the console? Goulding & Wood’s process of tonal finishing begins in the shop. After visiting the site, our voicer does nearly all of the voicing in the shop while the organ is being built, leaving some room for adjustment. When the organ installation is complete, onsite tonal finishing begins. First, all of the regulators on offset pipes are set to match the pipes on the main chests. Then the organ is completely tuned, starting with the Great 4′ Octave and moving outward through the flues and then the reeds.
At this point, the organ is completely playable, and we can hear where the organ is and what needs adjusting. The stops are gone through carefully and balanced against the rest of the organ’s resources. Pipe speech and quality are given just as much attention as volume and pitch. Our preference is to work until the evening, then take an hour or more to play literature and take notes for the next day’s work.
The rhythm of working, listening, and playing led me to reflect on a number of lessons I learned that might be helpful to other organists.
1) Voicing is not magic. Voicing, the art of balancing pipe speech across an organ, is just that: an art. It takes experience, hard work, intuition, artistry, common sense, personality—but not magic. “Magic,” after all, is the word we give to things we cannot explain and have given up trying to understand further. For a magic trick to remain magical, we must take it at face value, investigating no deeper and leave merely tickled by its illusion.
This is not to downplay the effects or importance of the voicing process. It is indeed some kind of magic that music can become poetic communication. But voicing is no more magical than a cellist influencing the tone quality from her cello; it’s a learned musical skill. It feels magical or mysterious as players because we don’t do it and know little about it. Voicing is simply outside the realm of our experience, not an illusion.
As organists, we can begin to de-mystify the voicing process, starting by taking ownership of what we hear. We should practice listening to organs so that we can be as descriptive as possible, reserving judgment and instead focusing on what we hear, not on what we’ve heard others say.
2) Individuals matter. After the first day of tuning, we had just the Great 8′ and 4′ principals in tune. The excitement of finally being able to play something on the organ in its intended space was so great that we spent an hour or so just playing on these two stops.
I don’t believe I’ve ever played on just one or two stops for that long. I know that had I sat down at a new organ that was entirely tuned I wouldn’t have had the patience to limit myself to each stop for so long; half a praeludium later I’d have tried the entire principal chorus and moved on to the flutes. Narrowing my focus (albeit out of necessity) to only two sounds was the most eye-opening experience on the trip. I really got to know those ranks, how they changed throughout the register, what they sounded like on their attack, and how their color was rich with description, not just “principal-ly.” Each day, the palette of colors expanded as we had more and more stops tuned. New stops taught us more about the original 8′ and 4′ as we were able to pair them in more combinations.
As organists, we should challenge ourselves to limit our registrations when meeting an organ new to us. Individual sounds matter, so get to know each stop as a building block before you add more. We are so quick to mix sounds without really listening to each ingredient, even though the organ was voiced so that each stop was beautiful in and of itself.
3) Duplicates suggest usage. Space on a windchest is expensive real estate, so one hopes each rank is placed there purposefully and thoughtfully. Because space is such a premium, duplicate stops—stops that are essentially the same in different divisions—are clues that they were voiced for different purposes. Goulding & Wood’s tonal philosophy is rooted in a fully developed skeleton of principal choruses, so each division has at least a 4′ principal chorus. With four 4′ principals on the organ, each was voiced to have its own place in the tonal scheme.
For example, we spent careful time balancing the Choir 4′ with the Swell 4′ because the Choir box is to the rear of the chamber and needed to be brought up in volume. A careful listener could listen to these “duplicate” stops and hopefully hear two ranks with similar volume but slightly different color—the Swell Octave a little fuller to match the smooth 8′ Geigen Diapason, and the Choir Fugara to match the more transparent, lighter Choir plenum.
Opus 48 has an 8′ Trumpet on each division; as an organist, take time to listen to the differences to each one and ask “why?” The Great 8′ Trumpet is broad and voiced to blend with the principal chorus, adding richness and color. The Swell 8′ Trumpet has more brilliance and upper harmonics to add a fiery sound to the whole organ, while the 8′ Cornopean in the Choir is big in scale but voiced and regulated to be subdued and have more heavy fundamental in its tone. The Pedal 8′ Trumpet helps to delineate the pedal line in contrapuntal music, works nicely as a solo, and marries the large 16′ Posaune to the rest of the organ.
The Macon instrument also has two 16′ stopped flutes, one in the Swell (and unified to the Pedal) and one in the Pedal. We adjusted the 16′ Lieblich in the Swell first, and then voiced the Pedal 16′ Subbass to be larger than the Swell. Hopefully, as organists we would take the time to investigate why the organbuilder decided that two 16′ stopped flutes were necessary, and how each one fits in the vision of the organ as a whole.
4) Listen deeply. During the tonal finishing, we sometimes had minor interruptions, whether they were from noises outside or gracious visitors looking at the beautifully renovated sanctuary. While never enough to affect our work, I noticed how jarring it was to hear a passing police car or vacuum down the hall after concentrating on the speech of the pipes. When it was my turn to hold keys and give feedback from the room, I found myself listening more intensely than normal, both to the pipes and any other noise.
Can we all listen deeply? That is, can we engage in listening so focused that we really hear all the sounds the organ is making, even listening to the “silence” which isn’t really silence? Air handling equipment, passing traffic, and other activities are the stuff in a church that we often label as “silence.” But maybe we should sit in the church alone long enough to be aware of these sounds. Then we can truly be plugged in to what the organ is singing. After all, if we ignore ambient noises to call them, in context, “silence,” what nuances in pipe speech do we gloss over or label too broadly? Does the Rohrflöte sound like the Gedeckt? Do we register full organ by sight and never experiment with what contribution, if any, the flutes are making?
5) “The Room” doesn’t have a drawknob. We’ve all heard that “the room is the most important stop on the organ.” During this trip, I thought a lot about that axiom. It is true that the room is vitally important to the technique and effect of music-making in that space. Resonant rooms that eschew echoes but promote reverberation evenly across the pitch spectrum are certainly preferable to dry rooms, echoing rooms, or rooms that respond well to only high or low frequencies. The organ’s color and power can fully and naturally develop, and congregational singing is vastly improved. We can feel one another singing and the organ sings with us. The room is a large part of that equation.
But saying the room is a “stop” implies, however loosely, that the room can be manipulated like a set of pipes, and that a room that is less than ideal has the same tonal impact as that of a poorly voiced rank of pipes. An ugly 8′ Principal is a flaw in the organ that intrinsically impairs an instrument’s tonal design and ability to play repertoire. A dry room, however, need not hinder the organ’s tonal structure or make its colors less beautiful. After all, every other sound source—spoken word, choirs, other instruments—will be affected by the same acoustical environment. The voicer’s task is to make musical decisions that allow the organ to speak as best it can in those conditions.
In Macon we were blessed with a warm, clean-sounding room, aided by the wise removal of carpet. The reverberation was inclined to favor higher frequencies, so we spent time making sure the organ didn’t sound too brittle or glassy in the top ranges. We also spent a good deal of time listening from all over the sanctuary. When regulating the 16′ Open Wood, it was amazing how much difference our location in the room made. Some spots made the sound all but disappear, and a few feet away the sound grew tremendously. Often the organist is in the worst place to hear the organ, with much of it going over our heads.
As organists we should strive to make the organ the best it can be. Listen to it from all around the room, even if that means sticking pencils in keys and going for a walk through the pews. Feel the effects of the Subbass and how well it supports the congregation, or listen to how much the Harmonic Flute blossoms half-way down the nave. If there is any truth that the room is the most important stop on the organ, it is doubly true that the organist is ultimately the only chance the organ has of sounding its best and doing its job. Beautiful organs can be placed in less-than-ideal rooms and still inspire, instruct, and lead organists and congregations. (It should also be said that not-so-beautiful organs in less-than-ideal rooms can also inspire, instruct, and lead organists and congregations.) It is our duty as organists to display that beauty in spite of obstacles.
Working so intensely on one organ was eye-opening for me. I’d like to think that the next time I visit the organ, its sounds will remind me of the details of the hours of hard work and long discussions we had during the trip. However, I hope that my work on the organ will not freeze my exploration of its capabilities to just what I discovered during the tonal finishing this summer. Instead, I hope that intimate knowledge of this instrument will open my ears to even more ways of hearing it each time I return.
We should strive to understand that while much of what happens during tonal finishing is outside our direct control, learning to listen more critically is our choice. Being comfortable with the instrument in front of us means knowing what each stop can do, alone and with others, and it means creating our own guesses for why some stops were placed in some divisions and not others. I learned a lot about how I play and register from those weeks in Georgia, and hopefully we can all be inspired to take ownership on both sides of the console, and let the music itself take care of the magic. 

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J.H. & C.S. Odell Opus 645

United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston,

Westport, Connecticut

From the builder

I first looked over the 1968 Angell pipe organ at the United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston in the winter of 2005, having been recommended to the church by our friend K. Bryan Kirk. What we found in Westport was an organ with many pipes that were well made, but in some cases unusually constructed and, by our standards, only roughly voiced. The flue pipes were made mostly with a high content of tin. We suspect Tim Koelewijn was the original pipemaker. Just about everything else in the organ had been made by domestic and foreign supply houses. Overall, quality varied widely. Some things were very neatly done.

Though by our standards not altogether under-scaled, the organ did suffer in just about every other way from the prevailing trends of the era when it was built. Wind pressures were low: less than two inches in the Great and three in the Swell. Looking at the original stoplist, we noted that none of the choruses in the organ were complete, though the organ did boast two Célestes and a triple-overblowing Zauberflöte. The reed complement for the organ consisted of a double-blocked French style 8’ Trompette (extended to 16’ in the Pedal) and a 4’ Rohr Shalmei.

The windchest mechanism was a problematic plunger-type solenoid system that had been giving trouble for years. The console was a veneered plywood supply house unit already years beyond its life expectancy. The open contact switching system was dispersed throughout the organ; some of its components had already failed. The wind supply for the entire Great division was provided by a single 18≤ by 24≤ reservoir whose internal volume was largely dedicated to its curtain valve.
After an initial tuning of the organ, the church’s new music director and organist, Todd Simmons, pressed me as to what could be done to make the organ better. I pointed out that the organ had mechanical and tonal issues, to be sure, but there was something to work with here, some raw material, which with proper attention could be the basis for a good pipe organ. In my wife Holly’s words, the existing pipework possessed “unrealized potential.”

Weeks later we met with the trustees to present our findings, expecting that at some point in the future funds could be raised to finance the organ project. One can imagine my surprise when Mr. Simmons called me a few weeks later to say that a single anonymous donor had stepped forward. How soon could we start? Thus we found ourselves sweating in the summer heat on a stretch of days the following July, packing and removing the pipes that would become the basis for our Opus 645.
In the design process we developed a new specification with input from K. Bryan Kirk. We instinctively sought first to meet the essential requirements of a liturgical instrument, something we believe to be utterly crucial, especially in the case of smaller pipe organs. Given the limited space for the organ, we felt a two-manual scheme with few frills would be best. We resisted a request for digital augmentation, instead focusing on a design that would be pipe only.

Certain early decisions seemed obvious. Given the dry acoustic of the church, the baseline scale of the Great chorus needed to be increased. This chorus was also completed with the addition of appropriately scaled new pipework from 22⁄3’ pitch upward. The cutup schedule of the existing Great capped flute was raised, arched, and the stop entirely revoiced. A new independent 4’ Harmonic Flute (based on the unique and very successful scale found in our historic Opus 178 at St. Charles Borromeo in Brooklyn) was constructed and voiced. Over the course of the project nearly every zinc pipe in the organ made its way through our pipe shop: frozen metal caps were freed, tuning inserts and toes replaced, seams and scrolls repaired. Being left in a raw state, many of the zinc pipes had an unsightly powdery white oxidation. We removed this, and gave all zinc basses a sealing coat of varnish to protect them.
The wind pressure of all manual divisions was raised to a more moderate four inches. Holly, then pregnant with our son Caleb, did her usual superb job of revoicing all the other existing and new flue pipework, managing to do so before reaching her final trimester. During this past winter we joked more than once: which would be given birth first, our son Caleb or the organ for Westport?

Where, before, the Great division of the organ had seven ranks, it had now eleven. To provide for this expanded division adequately, we built a new, larger reservoir. The rest of the organ’s wind system was rebuilt and reengineered as the new design required.

In dealing with the Swell division, again certain decisions seemed obvious. The 4’ Rohr Shalmei, only marginally useful, was replaced with an 8’ Oboe, expertly voiced by Sam Hughes. Proceeding as she did in the Great, Holly revoiced all of the existing Swell flues and voiced the new pipework for the Swell flute chorus, which was completed to 13⁄5’ pitch. The existing Trompette was kept, though carefully cleaned up and regulated in a cooperative effort between Sam and Holly.

In our recently expanded East Hampton shop I concentrated on the construction of the console, while our shop foreman John Williams constructed new windchests whose design was first developed for our organ at St. Ann’s in Bridgehampton. The unusually short feet of the 8’ old flute basses made for some interesting pipesetting. New offset chests were provided for everything save the original Pedal Subbass, a mammoth mahogany affair that only needed rebuilding.

The new console was based on our current terrace-jamb design with several embellishments. Improvements on the existing design include a slightly deeper cabinet with an added horizontal stile, raised panel work, additional applied moldings, hand-carved brackets, a two-piece knee panel and solid walnut music desk, the latter being picture-framed with the same quarter-sawn white oak used for the carcass and façade.

The console features an integrated solid-state capture and control system with fully programmable features, MIDI interface, and our standard complement of rear-fulcrum keyboards with basswood levers. The oblique drawknob heads are a reproduction of our 19th-century design. Respected organists who have played it have described our console at Westport as “elegant and comfortable.”
My design of the façade was in part born of necessity. Since both the manual and pedal principal stops were being rescaled, new bass pipes would be required. We naturally needed to make the most of the existing chamber space, and one of the simplest ways to do that was by moving the basses of these stops out into a façade.

Every pipe in the façade is functional. The bass notes of the Great and Pedal principals are polished aluminum, made to our specifications by Matters, Inc. of Hermosa, South Dakota. The pipes are arranged in three towers and two flats and the overall height of the case tops out at 15 feet, mounted roughly 10 feet above the sanctuary floor. The style of the casework is deliberately simple, so as to be in harmony with the appointments of the church sanctuary.

The façade performs a very important function in giving one a visual focal point. It declares the organ present, and urges one to consider it rather than wonder from where behind the grille cloth the organ might be. Its cruciform arrangement also reflects elements of sacred numerology: three towers with three pipes each for the Trinity, ten pipes located within the inner flats for the Commandments.

The sanctuary space in Westport could be described as a postwar-modernist take on the “Akron Plan,” less the adjoining Fellowship Hall. Four sets of pews radiate from the altar and pulpit up front, with organ and choir off to the left. The space over the altar is open with a ceiling height of approximately 35 feet. This intersects with a lower A-frame suspended transversely over the pews. From there the ceiling slopes downward to the rear of the pews to meet a northeasterly facing wall that is mostly glass. The floor is a simple concrete aggregate. Thankfully, carpet was absent. More simply described, it is a space with a great deal of cubic volume, but not overly reverberant.

Throughout the process we gave a great deal of thought to what levels of power would be appropriate for the various tonal resources of the organ. Our concerns about sufficient tonal egress from the chambers were put to rest when we experienced how well the organ spoke into the room. In the tonal finishing process we were pleased to discover how our scaling and voicing decisions suited the space. With a well-balanced variety of 8’ tone available, the organ easily leads congregational singing in a variety of settings.

Overall, we are very happy with what we have achieved in Westport. I would be remiss not to mention others who have contributed to this project: my wife and business partner Holly Odell was responsible for revoicing all existing pipework and voicing of new pipework. John Williams built nearly all the windchests and was responsible for all pipesetting. John and I collaborated on the wind reservoirs and organ case elements. In addition to overall mechanical design and layout, I milled, built and finished the console and casework as well as handling most other finishing duties. Working out of our pipe shop, Stewart Skates handled all pipe repairs. Luc Ladurantaye of Lac Saguay, Quebec, built the new metal pipes to our specifications. Gordon Auchincloss assisted in the wiring and final assembly of the console, and Thomas White assisted in windchest construction and wiring. John Williams, Thomas White, and myself handled the installation. Tonal finishing duties were divided between Holly and myself, with occasional assistance from Richard Hamar and Fred Heffner.

—Edward Odell



From the music director

In my third year as choir director and first year as organist of the United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston, I was introduced to Edward Odell by K. Bryan Kirk, as we were in search of someone local to assume the maintenance of our Angell pipe organ. While I was not dissatisfied with the firm maintaining our organ at that time, I knew it was only a matter of time before a major overhaul was needed, and no one had ever made a complete inspection and report on our instrument. Given the current condition of our organ, I felt comforted in knowing someone local could resuscitate it at a moment’s notice.

After a thorough tuning and evaluation of the organ, I was encouraged by Mr. Odell’s report that although there were serious electrical and tonal issues present, the pipes themselves were well made and could be repaired and voiced (apparently for the first time ever) if we had the means to fund an organ project. Having just completed a fund-raising campaign for a new grand piano, our church did not have extra money to start an organ building fund-raiser, and we felt uncomfortable asking the congregation to dig into their wallets again so soon. This was discouraging as we knew that time was close at hand; in recent years our organ had become increasingly undependable.

Not long after we began exploring these issues, it happened one Sunday morning that the entire organ pedalboard suddenly made itself unusable. Having little alternative, I decided to play that morning’s service on the piano. This coming just a few weeks after Mr. Odell’s presentation to our trustees, there was (understandably) a certain degree of panic, since we were totally unprepared financially to fund an organ project this soon. Even though our organ was one of the longest surviving Angell pipe organs in the area, we had hoped (and expected) it to last longer. It was more and more apparent that something had to be done soon. Before we even had a chance to strategize, I received a call the next day from the pastor informing me that a donor wishing to remain anonymous had left a very large check on his desk with the intention of funding the organ project.

As has been elsewhere stated, our previous instrument suffered from a lack of tonal finishing and the pipes themselves had never been voiced properly. The pipes being of relatively small scale, we were used to a thin, shallow sound that did not possess enough power to adequately fill our worship space, even when I registered full organ. At the start of the project, I had doubts as to whether any new organ would be strong enough, given the room’s difficult acoustics and the location of the organ chambers. Mr. Odell assured us that once the new organ was installed, we would be amazed at the difference.
One of the most impressive enhancements with the new organ, aside from the exquisite façade, is the quality of sound as well as the power behind it. We now have an instrument that adequately leads our congregation in singing, as well as providing full, but subtle, accompaniment for the choir anthems. I can honestly say that at every step of the way, Mr. Odell and his firm have not only met but exceeded my expectations with our new organ and have gone above and beyond the call of duty to deliver an instrument that is even better than the original proposal stated.

It is a testament to his excellent work that not only do the trained musicians in the congregation appreciate this new pipe organ, even the untrained listeners have noticed a huge improvement over the previous instrument. One member (who at one time happened to be unsupportive of the project) admits that now she could not imagine our service without a pipe organ. The church is well pleased, as am I, and we celebrate at every Sunday service this work of art courtesy of the firm of J.H. & C.S. Odell.

—Todd Simmons, organist and music director, United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston



From the consultant

When I began teaching in 1988 at a music school in Westport, Connecticut, I was naturally curious about local pipe organs. Over the years, I became more familiar with the organ at a nearby church: the United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston. The instrument was in poor mechanical condition: it exhibited a failing combination action, frequent ciphers, tuning instability and other frustrations, even though periodic maintenance was given. Being a product of its time, it was very thin in sound, had little bass response (as did the room) and few solo colors. Most importantly, there was no sense of real ensemble, even when the tutti was drawn. The instrument was also limited in its dynamic range for choral accompaniment and congregational singing, and was weak when trying to blend with other instruments. Overall, the organ did not make a strong impact.

A few years later a new organist and choir director was hired, Todd Simmons, one of my teaching colleagues from the music school. As the organ continued to deteriorate, he and the church became even more disappointed with the organ’s unreliability and marginal tonal resources. Knowing I had done other consulting work, Todd asked me to work with him and the church regarding the organ. Realizing the inherent problems, both musical and mechanical, we began an in-depth study of what could be done to either rebuild or replace the organ with something that would not only offer more tonal possibilities but also fill the room and excite the strong congregational singing potential we knew was there.

As we talked, it was apparent that virtually a new organ would be the best option, although much of the existing pipework could be retained if it were rescaled, revoiced and placed on a new, reliable chassis. The organ needed to be reliable and have a wider dynamic range, more tonal colors and a strong sense of presence in the room. It had to strongly lead and accompany congregational singing and sensitively render choral, solo and instrumental accompaniment.

From the outset, one of my pervading concerns was the church’s acoustic, which, while fine for chamber music, was a bit dry for organ and choral music and congregational singing. Having noted the difference in the acoustic when the room was more fully occupied, I knew the challenge of filling the room efficiently would be a mandate for the builder.

Our task began to take shape. Meetings were held and candidate builders were vetted. As work continued, a stop-list began to emerge, while we kept in mind budget and space limitations. One of my thoughts was to ask for a façade, as the previous organ had nothing visible but for a console in a lowered pit in the choir area. I reasoned that a façade would reinforce the impression that the church was getting something new, better and different. We agreed from the beginning that the organ should remain an all-pipe instrument.

After naming a few candidates, one firm was clearly the most interested, experienced and willing to work with us and on this organ. Having known the Odells and their fine lineage of historic instruments as well as their excellent work on new organs and various projects over many years, I was happy to welcome their presence.

The church had Edward and Holly Odell give the organ a full tuning and submit a proposal for either rebuilding or a new organ. As the Odells looked through the organ, they determined that a new console, chassis and electrical system would be required, and that it would be possible to rebuild one small windchest, but otherwise new windchests would be required throughout. By adding a façade for visual interest, some new pipework and retaining about half the existing pipework (though carefully rescaled and revoiced), the organ could take on a new character that would be far more flexible and of greater quality than its predecessor. This concept, coupled with their thorough proposal, helped to land them the contract.

As the new organ design was developed, the specification was refined. Among the ideas we discussed was the clever suggestion to borrow the Great 4’ Octave as an 8’ Second Principal stop on the Great, creating a secondary 8’ Principal for smaller combinations. The stop could also be used to fill out foundation tone when needed. As we continued to explore various tonal issues, it was noted that the old organ had no soft reed color or solo flute color. Among other things, Odell suggested adding an 8’ Oboe and building a new Harmonic Flute, patterned after historic Odell examples, but carefully adapted for the flute scales at Westport.

My early recommendations had included new 22⁄3’ and 2’ principal stops to replace the existing flute-scaled 2’ in the Great. The Odells suggested going further to install a new Mixture to create a full Principal chorus, giving the organ a sense of ensemble, a true plenum, something it never had.
Having listened to the result, I can state these stops create a truly full-sounding principal chorus, finally integrating the instrument into the room. The organ as conceived by the Odells has made a huge difference for hymn and repertoire playing and can now “ring the room” more effectively.

The Great also contains the revoiced 8’ Bourdon, now sounding more like a continuo stop, suitable in choral music or to accompany the Swell’s cornet decomposée. The Gemshorn and its Celeste were retained for flexibility in accompanying and providing more soft colors.

The Swell received “the Odell treatment,” in that all the pipework was revoiced. The flues, strings and mutations were all transformed by voicer Holly Odell, and the reeds were reworked to make a dramatic difference. The strings and 8’ Rohrflute now have more presence and can fully support the choir, as well as contribute to the ensemble. The Swell cornet decomposée is now nicely balanced, and the flutes have a more piquant character.

The new 8’ Oboe offers a nice color for softer choral accompaniment and foundation combinations, as well as providing a new solo stop. The existing 8’ Trompette, originally extended to 16’ for the Pedal, was also cleaned, revoiced and regulated into a stop that now serves a dual-purpose chorus/solo reed. The 16’ octave, now reconditioned, adds more gravitas to the Pedal and the full ensemble.
The full ensemble now fills the church worship space with a richer, warmer and well-blended tone. The softer sounds are more usable and possess a wider dynamic range, so the possibilities for choral, vocal and instrumental accompaniment are greatly enhanced.

As a concerned observer, I paid close attention to the project throughout the building process. The Odells always welcomed my inquiries and kept all parties informed with frequent photographs from their shop. Once the installation commenced, it was exciting to see how beautifully designed and well made all components of the organ were, both inside and out. During the tonal finishing, it was gratifying to witness the attention to detail in balancing each stop and the various ensembles. Further, it was refreshing to hear from the builder that materials and workmanship were never an issue; they simply insisted that in every aspect things be done thoroughly, with the highest level of attention to detail.

The organ is now in regular use and a series of dedication concerts have been planned. My thanks go to Edward and Holly Odell, their associates, to Todd Simmons and the United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston, Connecticut, and the donor for having me work with them in a collaborative effort to complete this important project to enrich the worship and outreach of this vibrant congregation.

—K. Bryan Kirk, advisor/consultant


J.H. & C.S. Odell Opus 645

United Methodist Church of Westport and Weston, Westport, Connecticut



Great (Wind pressure 4")

8’ Principal CC–AA en façade, otherwise 70% tin, 61 pipes

8’ Second Principal 1–12 from Principal 8’, 13–49 from Octave 4’

8’ Bourdon 70% tin, arched cutup, 61 pipes

8’ Harmonic Flute 1–12 from Bourdon 8’, 13–61 from Harmonic Flute 4’

8’ Gemshorn 70% tin, 2/3 taper, 61 pipes

8’ Gemshorn Céleste 70% tin, 2/3 taper, 49 pipes

4’ Octave 70% tin, 61 pipes

4’ Harmonic Flute 55% spotted metal, special Odell scale, harmonic at
middle C, 61 pipes

22⁄3’ Quint 55% spotted metal, 61 pipes

2’ Super Octave 55% spotted metal, 61 pipes

III Mixture 55% spotted metal, 19-22-26, 183 pipes

Chimes. 25 tubes


Swell (Expressive, in existing chamber, wind pressure 4")

16’ Rohr Gedeckt wood, 13–61 from Rohr Flute 8’, 12 pipes

8’ Rohr Flute 70% tin, chimneyed, 61 pipes

8’ Gamba 70% tin, bearded, 61 pipes

8’ Gamba Céleste 70% tin, bearded, 49 pipes

4’ Spitz Principal 70% tin, 2/3 taper, 61 pipes

4’ Flute 55% spotted metal, 2/3 taper, 61 pipes
22⁄3’ Nazard 70% tin, capped and chimneyed to middle C, 61 pipes

2’ Block Flute 70% tin, 61 pipes

13⁄5’ Tierce 55% spotted metal, 2/3 taper, 61 pipes

8’ Trompette double blocked, French shallots, 56 reeds, 61 pipes

8’ Oboe dual taper resonators, English shallots, 49 reeds, 61 pipes

Tremulant


Pedal

16’ Subbass wood, 32 pipes

16’ Rohr Gedeckt from Swell

8’ Octave CC–GG# en façade, otherwise 70% tin, 32 pipes

8’ Bourdon extension, Subbass, 12 pipes

8’ Rohr Flute from Swell

4’ Choralbass extension, Octave 8’, 12 pipes

4’ Flute from Swell

16’ Trompette extension to Swell Trompette, 12 pipes

8’ Trompette from Swell

8’ Oboe from Swell

4’ Clarion from Swell

Organs for Use with Symphony Orchestra

Calvin Hampton

The late Calvin Hampton, who played widely as a recitalist and as an organist with orchestra, was director of music for the Parish of Calvary, Holy Communion, and St. George’s in New York City. His article is a revised version of an address he delivered to the eighth national convention of the American Institute of Organbuilders in Boston, October 1979.

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This article was originally published in the February 1982 issue of The Diapason. It is reprinted here at the suggestion of Jack M. Bethards because of its connection with the new Schoenstein organ at Schermerhorn Symphony Center, Nashville, Tennessee (see pages 1, 29–31.)

There exists in the orchestra repertoire a bulk of works which include the use of an organ. I am speaking not of baroque works which call for a continuo organ, but of post-romantic and contemporary orchestral or choral/orchestral works which call for a modern organ of vast dynamic resources. The list of composers includes such diverse figures as Berlioz, Holst, Saint-Saëns, Khachaturian, Poulenc, Copland, Janaček, Barber, Respighi, Williamson, Strauss, Jongen, Mahler, Duruflé, Elgar, Hindemith, Rheinberger, Britten.
A close examination of these works reveals four basic categories of organ use: accompanimental, augmentative, antiphonal-solo, and ensemble-solo. A simple definition for each: accompanimental—when the organ alone plays the chords over which orchestral instruments play solo material; augmentative—when the organ is used for additional weight or color, and essentially doubles orchestra parts; antiphonal-solo—when the organ and orchestra play one after the other, as in the opening of the last movement of the Saint-Saëns Third Symphony; ensemble-solo—when a melody or important voice is given to the organ, to be heard above orchestra accompaniment.
Most new organs in symphony halls succeed without difficulty in the first category—accompanimental. If the organ is of reasonable size and power, and in a good location, it will at least pass in the third category—antiphonal-solo, where its tutti does not have to achieve any absolute decibel capability. In the second and fourth categories, however, augmentative and ensemble-solo, something approaching absolutes is required, and it is in these two categories that instruments built in the last few decades have failed us.
Orchestral instruments can adjust their dynamics to achieve balance, and instrumental composers have an intimate knowledge of their capabilities; therefore, their dynamic range is sufficient for what is asked of them. The organ, on the other hand, has been radically different things at different times, and for different purposes. In an orchestra hall, however, should not the principles of construction of an organ be determined through a close study of organ parts in orchestral scores, and perhaps a visit to an orchestra rehearsal armed with a decibel meter? The problem is this simple: organbuilders don’t know what they should be trying to build.
Let us cite a few examples of “organ failure.” In the second movement of the Pines of Rome, the fullest possible bass orchestration, inclusive of trombones and tubas, asks to be further augmented by the full bass of the organ (I believe the marking is triple-forte). In such a passage, the orchestra plays as loudly as is its custom, and the organ will either add to it or not add to it. If we were to consider that the orchestra should play softer so that the organ might be heard, we would, of course, be defeating the purpose for which the organ was added in the first place. The truth is that only in places like Albert Hall in London, Woolsey Hall at Yale, or the St. Cecilia Academy in Rome is it even noticeable to a listener that anything besides the orchestral instruments is present. Another famous example of failure to do its job is at the end of “The Magician” in The Planets. According to all the record liners, the march, which builds to a fever pitch with brass and percussion, is to be “wiped away” by a fortissimo glissando on the organ. Again, only in some turn-of-the-century music halls is this supposedly overwhelming effect even audible. In most situations, the march seems to end of its own accord; there is nothing present, as the composer intended, which interrupts its progress.
About these two examples of augmentation, it could be said that the composers overestimated the power of organs. It happens, however, that these composers knew particular instruments and particular halls, and when performed there, the effects work. But we are talking about a style of organ built between 1880 and 1930. Nowadays, most organs considered to be big actually do not exceed 80 db., whereas post-romantic orchestra climaxes (during which the organ is often called upon to enter and be noticed) can easily approach and exceed 100 db.
There are more inadequacies, however, than just at the highest decibel levels. The organ’s display of solo flutes, oboes, krummhorns, cornets, etc., are also fairly useless as solo stops. Their builders, accustomed to thinking of the organ as a self-contained entity, voiced them to be accompanied by a traditional complement of other organ stops according to the practices of solo organ music. Because those solo stops cannot project as well as their orchestra counterparts, thematic material given to an organ solo stop must often be played on ensemble registrations (sometimes even inclusive of mixtures), just for “noticeability.” This condition severely limits the charm and variety of sound which will emanate from an organ during the course of a given work, unless that work provides opportunities for the organ to be left entirely to itself.
Duruflé and Poulenc, working together on the latter’s organ concerto, were wise to allow the organ to be alone so much of the time. Of course, there is the added advantage of only having to contend with strings and timpani. Single-stop solo lines (such as one passage for the hautbois) encounter only the most spartan string accompaniment; even so, many of the registrations in the work have to be boosted beyond what is indicated to maintain a proper balance through the course of even slight dynamic changes in the accompaniment. The harmonic flute solo in the final section of the Duruflé Requiem is heard adequately only until the chorus begins to ascend, at which point it is buried until the chorus dies away again. Years ago, I once used a live flautist for this section; with no noticeable crescendo on his part, the solo was completely audible throughout. The flute on my organ was dynamically as loud as the live flute. What made the difference?
Transients and casework have been the traditional organbuilders method of projecting organ sound. But, next to a “live” instrument, such a sound still remains in a comparative background, for all its clarity and harmonic development. The secret ingredient behind “presence” and “projection” in orchestral instruments is pressure; a solo line always is played with more pressure than that of the accompanying material. Instrumentalists have two techniques: accompaniment-ensemble playing, and solo playing. It translates either into bow pressure, wind pressure, or muscle behind a drum stick. That is how one violin is heard in a concerto above fifty others. Decibels are involved to a degree, but the rest of the battle is one of authority or assertive power.
In terms of the pipe organ, this means wind pressure and scale. Organ sounds produced by high pressure are not only louder, they create more of a sonic “disturbance” in the room, even at relatively low dynamic levels. The use of closed-toe voicing with high wind pressure results in the ability to increase the pressure as the stop ascends the scale, which is in keeping with the instrumental phenomenon. Such a style of voicing also permits far more latitude for dynamic readjustment when necessary (as it usually is).
The most important goal of using high wind pressure, however, is the achievement of actual force. When organs were pumped by hand, the use of high-pitched compound stops helped to suggest a kind of illusion of force. But the species of organ which found its way into turn-of-the-century orchestra halls definitely reflects the application of a turbine blower to organbuilding and all the experiments in voicing made possible by an unlimited supply of wind. Because this kind of organ can produce real force rather than illusory force, it is the only kind capable of being an intruder above orchestra instruments which are themselves producing a heavy wall of sound. Although the pejorative term “opaque” was coined to describe this kind of voicing at the beginning of the trend back towards low-pressure, it is indeed that very ingredient which is the desired quality for projecting organ tone among ensembles of orchestra instruments.
The desire for transparency of organ tone derives from the tendency of organ sounds to obscure one another when several voices are being played on one keyboard. Though I do not believe that high pressure voicing a priori renders polyphony impossible, it is a question of degree, and everyone will admit that polyphony demands a transparency of tone which favors the use of low wind pressure. The situation at hand, however, is a need to produce entities in an organ which will meet a list of demands in which polyphony is a low priority, and where enormous quantities of driven fundamental tone are essential.
The fact that a recent movement has made an important priority of transparent voicing in organbuilding for the sake of baroque polyphony is not at issue here. The dilemma does not rest on a controversy between baroque versus romantic organbuilding. What has not yet been recognized is that the musical requirements for an organ in the orchestral situation are different from those of even the romantic organ in its solo setting. Because these musical requirements have been only sporadically or accidentally met, they are not codified, so as yet have not been translated into a distinct organbuilding procedure.
I would design an instrument modest in number of ranks, both to keep the organ from burying itself, and to allow for the outsize scaling which will be needed. For quiet passages and for accompanimental purposes, we need a Swell division. For ensemble “backbone,” we must have a solid Great division. The most extravagant sonic resources need to be controllable, so they should go into an enclosed Solo division. Underneath all of this, naturally, we need an heroic Pedal. The following specification should be regarded as a generalization; it contains, however, all the specific sounds required by the repertoire.

SWELL
(4–6 inches of wind)
16′ Flute Conique
8′ Diapason
8′ Viole
8′ Viole Celeste
8′ Flute Celeste II
8′ Rohr Flute
4′ Octave
4′ Flute
2′ Fifteenth
11⁄3′ Quint
1′ Mixture IV
16′ Bombarde
8′ Trumpet
8′ Oboe
8′ Vox Humana
4′ Clarion

GREAT
(7–10 inches of wind)
(scales should be 3–4 notes larger than that of a normal organ design for the same space)
16′ Violon
8′ Diapason
8′ Gamba
8′ Gross Flute
8′ Flute Harmonique
8′ Bourdon
4′ Gross Octave
4′ Spitzflute
2′ Super Octave
Cornet V
2′ Mixture VI
16′ Tromba
8′ Tromba
4′ Tromba

SOLO
(15-20 inches of wind)
(pipe metals need to be exception- ally thick; pipes should be voiced so that the principal and reed chorus-
es together will produce 100 deci-
bels in the tenth row on a six-note
C-major chord)
8′ Stentorphone
8′ Flauto Mirabilis
8′ Gross Gamba
8′ Gamba Celeste
4′ Stentorphone Octave
22⁄3′ Tierce Mixture VIII
8′ Tuba Magna
8′ Clarinet
4′ Tuba Clarion

PEDAL
(8–10 inches of wind)
32′ Bourdon
16′ Open Wood
16′ Violon (Gt)
16′ Bourdon
16′ Flute Conique (Sw)
102⁄3′ Quint
8′ Open Wood
8′ Octave
8′ Bourdon
8′ Violon (Gt)
8′ Flute Conique (Sw)
4′ Open Wood
4′ Octave
4′ Flute Harmonique (Gt or indepen- dent)
22⁄3′ Mixture IV
32′ Tromba (Gt ext)
16′ Tuba Profunda (Solo ext)
16′ Tromba (Gt)
16′ Bombarde (Sw)
8′ Tuba (Solo)
8′ Tromba (Gt)
8′ Bombarde (Sw)
4′ Tuba Clarion (Solo)
4′ Tromba (Gt)

(All mixtures on this organ are chorus mixtures and should be voiced with equidistant breaks)

These are raw materials. They must now be related to specific contingencies. Sitting in the tenth row, the organbuilder should obtain the decibel level of all the orchestra strings playing a Bach chorale. The decibel level of all the 8′ and 4′ manual flues should equal that. (The accompanimental stops on the Swell and Great can be voiced for usefulness in the traditional organ sense.) Ideally, the organbuilder should experiment next with a clarinet player, an oboe player, a trumpet player, and a flute player standing on the stage and playing some passage of music in which those instruments play as loudly as is required of them in any orchestral context. Those stops on the organ should equate dynamically when the boxes are open. (The Great Tromba is the reed which should be tested with the trumpet player.) The brass choir playing a Bach chorale mezzo-forte should equal the Swell reed chorus; playing forte, they should equal the Great reed chorus.
The 4′ and 2′ stops on this organ should be particularly powerful, because they will often need to be an alternative to mixtures. Conductors generally do not like the sound of mixtures, so they should not be necessary until the dynamic level is loud enough for such harmonic development to seem natural. Cymbal mixtures are entirely a baroque organ music apparatus and are inappropriate here because they interfere with the coloration of the upper strings.
The bass department can be a source of great frustration. If a room is too absorbent of bass frequencies, achieving an absolute is next to impossible. Our only hope is to presume the need for “overkill” and our only consolation is in knowing that the orchestra will suffer the same set-back. The independent Open Wood and Bourdon units should be as large and heavy of construction as is physically possible. The Violon and Flute Conique should be adequate alternatives for passages where heaviness is inappropriate. When heavy bass is needed, everything imaginable is still barely enough. (I remember so well an occasion in which I was prepared to make an impressive showing with the pedal division of an organ of considerable size. The music in question was The Fountains of Rome. Simply because the timpani was playing, I could not hear the organ at all. Twice in rehearsal, I stopped in mid-stream to see if I could tell the difference. I could not, and apparently neither could the conductor.) The 16′ and 32′ Tromba unit on our organ should be voiced more for weight than brilliance, leaving the Tuba extension in the Solo as our extra resource for “unreasonable demands.” The Tuba resonators need to be both large and heavy, so that this stop can be voiced for everything available.
How do we test this organ to determine whether it is successful? I think the organ should be adequate for the fullest passages of the Saint-Saëns Third Symphony and the Rheinberger concerti without touching the Solo division (let us decide that the word “adequate” means that one can always tell the organ is playing!). It should be “adequate” (same criteria) for the Mahler Resurrection Symphony by including the flues of the Solo. Our test of the Pedal would be the second movement of The Fountains of Rome, or the second movement of Church Windows, both by Respighi. Our test of the full Solo division is certainly “The Magician” from The Planets of Hoist (a recent recording of this close-miked an organ to achieve the ideal effectiveness for that climax. Wouldn’t it be nice if the concert-goer could have the same pleasure?). Malcolm Williamson wrote an organ concerto with a Tuba Mirabilis solo in the last movement, which needs to project above full orchestra. We have to hope our Tuba Mirabilis can do that!
The number of accompanimental stops on the Swell and Great should enable any kind of choral accompaniment or church service playing, in halls where the auditorium is rented out on Sunday mornings, and I dare say an exciting organ recital could be played on this instrument if there were anyone who could draw enough of a crowd to pay the rent! One important item needed on the console of this organ: a crescendo pedal which goes all the way to full organ (I once played a piece with orchestra where I had to set all ten generals just for one decrescendo). Perhaps the magic of solid-state controls could give us a selection of programs for the crescendo pedal: one without mixtures, one without reeds, etc.
Few organbuilders would be willing to create such an instrument. We could split the reason half and half between being unequipped and being philosophically too predisposed to the organ of another era. Few builders I have spoken to could really understand that I was not being over-dramatic in my description of the problem. One builder insisted that three inches of wind would be adequate if he could use mechanical key action to project the sound, and locate the pipework in front of the orchestra (somehow!). Some of my colleagues who have had experience playing with orchestra insist that conductors do not want to hear the organ. On this point, I both agree and disagree. Because organists have always had to resort to stops inappropriate in color to obtain dynamic balance, I insist that the conductor’s rejection of the organ is based on sonic inappropriateness rather than volume. If simple foundation stops could really be heard, there would be no need to use mixtures or reeds in a place where that kind of organ tone would seem too “angry” against the sound of the orchestra. When reeds and mixtures are desired, if they have been boosted by voicers beyond what they are scaled for, we again have the problem of an “unwarranted tenseness” from the organ, which distracts from the music. This is very often the case.
Not to seem too uncharitable towards recently-built orchestra hall organs, I want to say that I don’t know of any that are not at least moderately successful for some things. What I am trying to develop is a comprehensive idea for an organ which is cognizant of the full range of expectations. Recent recordings prove to me that conductors are fascinated by the dramatic possibilities of the organ. If they were not, they would not have taken the trouble to have microphones hung all over the organ to achieve it. Sooner or later some organbuilder has got to accept the challenge, and be allowed the opportunity to continue experimentation until we finally have our first totally successful “orchestra organ.” I hope it is soon.

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Paul Fritts & Co., Tacoma,
Washington
St. Philip Presbyterian Church, Houston, Texas

From the organist
Nearly a decade ago, St. Philip Presbyterian Church began planning a major renovation of its facilities. In addition to a new educational building, plans were made to gut the sanctuary and make it a more vibrant and flexible space. By 2004 a new organ was on the horizon as well, thanks to an old electric-action instrument whose shortcomings had become obvious, an enthusiastic committee, and an expert consultant. In 2005 we bid good-bye to the old sanctuary and organ and signed a letter of intent with Paul Fritts for his Opus 29, a three-manual and pedal mechanical-action instrument of 48 stops, which was delivered and installed in the renovated sanctuary in early 2010.
And we couldn’t be happier! The new organ and sanctuary are a perfect match, with the instrument speaking directly into the room from its lofty position in a new gallery. Significant changes had to be made to the former choir loft to support the new organ, with the new gallery extending forward into the sanctuary to accommodate both choir and organ. Fortunately, we were blessed with a building whose basic shape—tall, long, and slender—presented a potentially ideal acoustical environment for organ and choral music. The transformation has been stark: a room that formerly had abundant absorptive and soft surfaces now has several seconds of reverberation. It’s also become a much more appealing visual space: the modernist light-filled sanctuary now boasts handsome millwork, beautiful stained glass, a tile mosaic front wall, and in the rear gallery, a stunning new organ.
Our selection of Paul Fritts & Co. as builders reflects St. Philip’s longstanding commitment to excellence in its music program and the amazing foresight and generosity of its members. Now just a little over a year old, the Fritts organ has generated a great deal of local and even international enthusiasm, and we’re delighted to be sharing it with a wide community of music lovers. I’m especially pleased that organ students from the University of Houston are able to use Fritts Opus 29 for weekly practice and degree recitals, since a splendid instrument like this has so much to teach us.
—Matthew Dirst
Organist
St. Philip Presbyterian Church

From the organ consultant
Long before I became the consultant for a new organ at St. Philip Presbyterian Church in 2004, Matthew Dirst set the groundwork for the project. For many years he had developed a solid relationship of trust, goodwill, and mutual respect between himself and the musicians, clergy, and congregants of St. Philip. It is certainly safe to say that without that special relationship, this project would never have happened. Soon before I came on board, an organ committee had been formed and fundraising had begun. I quickly learned that music was very important to the people of St. Philip. The committee made clear that they wanted an instrument that could lead in worship, accompany the choir, and make possible the performance of great organ music—especially music played by their world-famous organist! But something else came through from our initial meetings. The committee wanted an instrument of high quality that would stand the test of time, and of real beauty that would lead people to a fuller spiritual life.
The committee considered several builders. Committee members took their responsibilities seriously, and some of them made trips well outside the state of Texas to hear recent installations. As soon as they heard the Fritts organ at the University of Notre Dame, they knew what builder they wanted for St. Philip. The size of organ was never the driving force, and in fact the church initially contracted for a smaller (and less expensive) two-manual instrument. I know Matthew Dirst would have been content with it. But additional funds became available, and the size and scope of the instrument increased accordingly.
Besides the desire for a quality instrument that could lead in worship and be featured in concerts, the people of St. Philip Church wanted an instrument that could be used for educational purposes. The organ majors of the University of Houston now practice on this instrument almost every day, take weekly lessons at the church, and present degree recitals on it every semester. Last year, the church began an internship program, which lends support to one lucky UH graduate student in organ. In its role as music educator, the instrument will be featured in numerous conferences and workshops in the years to come, including a national conference sponsored by the Westfield Center for Early Keyboard Studies to be held April 12–15, 2012, and the AGO national convention, scheduled for the summer of 2016. We are most grateful!
My congratulations go first to Matthew Dirst, Associate Professor of Musicology at the University of Houston and organist of St. Philip Church, for his many years of strong leadership and impeccable musicianship. He really deserves such an instrument! I also want to thank the St. Philip Organ Committee—especially its remarkable chairperson, Elizabeth Duerr—for years of hard work and unwavering commitment to excellence. And, finally, thanks go to Paul Fritts and his entire team for the construction and installation of an instrument of real quality—one that I know will inspire the congregants of St. Philip and the citizens of Houston for many years to come.
—Robert Bates
Professor of Organ
University of Houston
Organ Consultant
St. Philip Presbyterian Church

From the organbuilder
Many decisions contribute to the building of an organ, and these decisions become more significant when virtually every part is designed and built in the builder’s workshop. This distinction, achieved by our firm in 1984 when the pipe shop was established, enables creativity to flourish—we can build anything we want.
Organbuilders have been practicing their art for centuries, often with extravagant support. Today we can visit existing organs from most periods and national styles and still experience them firsthand. These visits become more challenging since we must also account for things outside the original builder’s intention. We are experiencing instruments through the veil of rebuilds and restorations over the centuries, some not so sensitive. We must also develop a good understanding of the acoustical environment these organs are speaking in, often a far cry from the typical modern American space. We can both experience how these organs sound and behave today, and also imagine how they once were.
Over the course of many study trips, I have noticed things common to instruments I consider magical. Interestingly, these outstanding instruments are not limited to any national style or time period. When comparing the experiences, I find a substantial convergence in areas of sound. The sounds of the pipes are complex and yet they have an unusual combination of qualities often difficult to achieve but deliberately sought after: their harmonic content is both refined and colorful, and it is balanced with a generous amount of fundamental. The speech is quick and elegant. These qualities are especially challenging, since customary ways of refining speech generally kill the unique harmonic content we hear in the old pipes. Interestingly, we find these sonic qualities in other fine instruments: violins, harpsichords, pianos, and many others. There seems to be a connection to the human voice—richness is present, combined with clarity—and all of this is accomplished, in the case of the organs, without excessive intensity, through the use of relatively low wind pressure. The organs somehow function on a human scale in spite of being grand both in appearance and sound. The pipes have open feet and flueways and relatively high cutups, but are mostly controlled in their sound production by the organ’s wind pressure, the main determinant of the organ’s overall intensity. These things contribute to what has been aptly called a relaxed intensity—the pipes sing robustly without shouting. Many other aspects fall into place when stops are working this way. The blend between them is enhanced and many more stop combinations work together. The organs carry a space remarkably well without having to be loud. They lead rather than direct a congregation. This rather strict approach surprisingly enables an organ to be more eclectic or universal in its capabilities. And, most importantly, they are supremely musical.
These thoughts were on our minds as we considered the design and construction of the new St. Philip Presbyterian Church organ. Many ideas garnered from the study trips expand the design, construction, and voicing, along with the collective experience of our seven craftsmen. The case appearance, in keeping with the spare nature of the church architecture, is an original design and incorporates ideas found in revered cases to make it more interesting. The treble flats curve inward and alternate direction in ancient Dutch fashion, and the proportions of the bass and tenor flats follow well-established trends. Straightforward moldings properly adorn the case and each vertical stile is framed with decorative insets. The carvings are contemporary creations inspired by Renaissance-era Italian organ pipe shades. All is painted a glossy white with gold leaf highlights. The result in the church is both a striking appearance and a comfortable feeling that it belongs.
Tonally the organ is more strict and at its core Germanic. Arp Schnitger’s work forms the basis of our recipe, and for good reason. The level of sophistication in the pipe-making and voicing is a true inspiration. Congregational support is of paramount importance and was at the forefront of our thinking when envisioning the St. Philip tonal design.
There is an abundance of reed stops, and these pipes follow the same principles as the flue pipes. They are made to produce a strong fundamental tone combined with color and refinement. The resonators are cut long to facilitate this, and a welcome consequence is tuning stability.
Eclecticism within this structure can flourish. For the St. Philip instrument we have included many stops and features that broaden the scope. A Swell is present with shades on three sides, along with the required string stops plus the Hautbois (a strict Cavaillé-Coll copy) stop. A string stop is also present on the Great, and there is a wide variety of flutes throughout the organ.
We have also added an electric stop action piggybacked to the mechanical stop action. We do this since there is a vastly different life span between the two systems. Any electric computer system will fail within a relatively short time compared to a well-made mechanical system that can function for centuries. We can avoid this dilemma if the electronic components are included in a non-intrusive way and are easy to replace when it becomes necessary. In the meantime, the organ will not be seriously disabled by failures of these electrical components, since the mechanical system will continue to work. As is usual with modern electrical preset systems, there are the usual features, including hundreds of memory levels and a sequencer.
The wind system is substantial, with four large bellows fitted with all the levers and check valves necessary to foot-pump the organ. When this novelty is utilized and the audience is informed, the performance takes on new meaning. There is a connection to the organ’s legacy—the organ is functioning on a human scale.
All of the four divisions speak directly through the façade—that is, no divisions speak through other divisions, contributing to an easy balance among them. The manual divisions are positioned center case, with Positive at the bottom, Great above, and Swell at the top. The Pedal is divided on each side.
The people of St. Philip Presbyterian are to be much admired for their unyielding support throughout the process leading up to the dedication of the organ in the spring of 2010. I am also humbled by my talented staff who work skillfully and with dedication. We strive to build lasting instruments—instruments that are both durable and very much cherished by those who play them and those who listen. Projects like this have the added benefit of the involvement of a wide group of people, a group too numerous to individually name here. I thank the St. Philip family for their support on many levels throughout the process, and I thank my wonderful crew for their continued excellence and support.
—Paul Fritts
Paul Fritts & Co. Organ Builders

St. Philip Presbyterian Church
Paul Fritts & Co. Organ Builders
Opus 29, 2009

GREAT
16′ Principal*
8′ Octave
8′ Rohrflöte
8′ Salicional
4′ Octave
4′ Spitzflöte
22⁄3′ Quint
2′ Octave
13⁄5′ Terz
IV–VI Mixture
V Cornet (mounted)
16′ Trompet
8′ Trompet
4′ Trompet
8′ Baarpfeife

SWELL
8′ Principal
8′ Bourdon
8′ Violdigamba
8′ Voix celeste
4′ Octave
4′ Koppelflöte
22⁄3′ Nasat
2′ Blockflöte
13⁄5′ Tierce
IV–V Mixture
16′ Fagott
8′ Trompet
8′ Hautbois

POSITIVE
8′ Principal
8′ Gedackt
8′ Quintadena
4′ Octave
4′ Rohrflöte
2′ Octave
11⁄3′ Larigot
II Sesquialtera
IV–V Scharff
8′ Dulcian

PEDAL
16′ Principal
16′ Subbaß
8′ Octave
8′ Bourdon*
4′ Octave
VI–VIII Mixture
32′ Posaune*
16′ Posaune
8′ Trompet
4′ Trompet

*Some pipes transmitted from other stops

Couplers
Swell to Great
Positive to Great
Swell to Positive
Great to Pedal
Swell to Pedal
Positive to Pedal

Compass: Manual, 58 notes; Pedal, 30 notes

Other:
Polished tin front pipes
Solid wood casework with carved pipe shades
Suspended, direct mechanical key action
Mechanical stop action with electric pre-set system
Tremulant
Multiple wedge bellows with foot pumping levers
Wind Stabilizer

70 ranks, 48 stops, 3,488 pipes

Photo credit: Paul Fritts

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Schoenstein & Co.,
Benicia, California
Schermerhorn Symphony Center,

Nashville, Tennessee

Music City’s New Symphony Hall Organ
In its February 1982 issue, The Diapason published an article that challenged conventional wisdom. (See reprint of the article on pages 27–28 of this issue.) In it, Calvin Hampton made a convincing argument that an organ designed to be an instrument of the symphony orchestra must be radically different in many respects from a church organ or even a concert organ intended for solo use. A “normal” organ, even a fine one, could not pass his audition for symphony hall use. This really caught my attention. Since my background had included playing in and managing symphony orchestras, I was keenly aware of the uneasy relationship between orchestras and pipe organs. To managements, the organ was a headache. It used up too much space and too much money. Stagehands didn’t like the extra hassle of set-ups and working out quiet time for maintenance. Musicians didn’t like tuning to the organ or listening to its quinty mixtures and other thin, shrill sounds. Conductors never seemed satisfied with either the tone color or volume produced. Comments heard over and over again were: “I like that tone, can it be louder?” “Good balance, but I’d like a fuller, darker tone.” “Please(!)—keep with my beat!” The organist’s answers usually provoked frustrated and sometimes colorful comments about the inflexibility of the organ. The poor organist had even more problems than these: scarce rehearsal time, balance problems if the console was attached to the organ, poor sightlines if the console was on stage but too large or placed off in a corner.
The biggest problem of all was disappointment for the audience. The power of a modern symphony orchestra is so immense that most concert hall organs could not add to the drama of a fortissimo tutti. Against the gravity of the full orchestra, an ordinary organ can sound pathetically thin and upside down in balance, with trebles screaming out over the top of the ensemble. I had wondered for a long time why no one had attempted to solve all of these problems with an innovative approach. Calvin Hampton’s article gave me hope that someone would. About ten years later the tide began to turn. The musical issues were being addressed and many of them quite successfully. However, as a former instrumentalist and symphony manager, I thought that a more radical approach was needed.

Solving problems
Most of the behind-the-footlights practical problems can be solved by adopting an obvious, but, in some quarters, unpopular guideline: employ the fewest stops necessary to get the musical job done. This means an instrument that takes up less space, is less costly to purchase and more efficient to maintain. The case or chamber can be shallow for best tonal egress. Layout can be arranged for temperature—and thus tuning—stability; for example, all chorus work on one level, all reeds on one level. The console can be more compact, promoting sightlines and ease in setting and striking. The concept is easy enough to adopt, but what is that magic number of stops? What is the musical job to be done? How can we produce adequate power that will satisfy the audience?
First, it should be established that we are considering an instrument primarily for the Romantic and Modern repertoire. A properly equipped symphony hall should have one or two mechanical action stage organs to take care of the earlier repertoire. Previous experiments to include a “baroque” division with a small console as part of a large instrument have not been successful.
The primary use of the organ will be with orchestra. As a solo instrument, it might be used on occasion for choral accompaniment, silent movies as part of a pops series, and some special events. The solo organ recital has turned out to be a rarity in symphony halls. This is also true of other instrumental or vocal recitals. The reasons are simple: economics and scheduling.
If this musical job description is accurate, then an instrument in the size range proposed by Calvin Hampton (46 voices) would be ideal. Certainly any well-designed instrument of that size should also be able to render a very convincing recital program when needed. The key to a great performance is great tone, not great size.
If client and builder have the discipline to follow this Multum in Parvo plan rigorously, the question of tonal design becomes a matter of selecting stops that are absolutely essential and living without those that would be nice to have. Several classes of stops can be excluded with ease because they are duplicated in the symphony orchestra. Certainly there is no need for multiple strings and celestes or for orchestral reeds such as French Horn, English Horn, and Orchestral Oboe. The organ does not need items that would be considered necessities in a comprehensive church organ or in one specialized for some branch of the organ solo repertoire or for transcriptions.
What, then, are the elements that a symphony hall organ must have? Understanding what musical value the organ can add to the orchestra leads us to the answer. There are three characteristics of the organ that differentiate it very clearly from the orchestra. First, its frequency range is far greater. It can extend octaves below and above the orchestra. Extending the bass range has been the feature most appreciated by composers and orchestrators; however, increasing the treble range can be attractive, provided that it doesn’t get too loud! The second special characteristic of the organ is its unique tone—the diapason. This is a tone that cannot be produced by the orchestra and should, therefore, be the backbone of the organ when heard with the orchestra. The third element that should be most intriguing to composers is the organ’s ability to sustain indefinitely. This feature is most artistically displayed in connection with good expression boxes. A long, continuous diminuendo or crescendo can be most effective.

Four vital design points
Since there is a general understanding of basic organ tonal elements common to composers who write for orchestra as well as for the organ, a good symphony hall organ must include the minimum architecture of a normal three-manual traditional Romantic organ: diapason choruses and chorus reeds on each manual, representatives of stopped, open and harmonic flutes, a string with celeste, flute mutations, and the most common color reeds (Oboe, Clarinet, and Vox Humana). To make the organ capable of working in partnership with a modern symphony orchestra, the following tonal elements must be incorporated into this traditional scheme:
1. Profound Pedal. This is the most important element an organ can add to a symphony orchestra—bass one or two octaves below the double basses, bass tuba and contra bassoon. There must be at least one stop of such immense power that it will literally shake the floor. Stops of varying colors and dynamics with some under expressive control complete the Pedal.
2. Solo stops unique to the organ. These may be tones not found in the orchestra such as a diapason, stopped flute, and cornet or imitative stops that can be voiced at a power level not possible from their orchestral counterparts, such as solo harmonic flutes, strings, clarinets, and high pressure trumpets and trombas.
3. One soft stop capable of fading away to a whisper. Perhaps best in this role is a strongly tapered hybrid (or muted) stop.
4. An ensemble of exceptionally high power under expression. This cannot be raw power. It must be power with beauty, centered in the 8′ and 4′ range to give a sense of solidity and grandeur. Since symphony halls are generally drier acoustically than the typical organ and choral environment, it is even more important that this power be concentrated in the mid-frequency range and be of warm tonal character. The false sense of power created by excessive emphasis in high-pitched tones should be avoided. Orchestras don’t rely on a battery of piccolos for power, why should the organ? Piccolos can dominate an orchestra and so can mixtures, but that doesn’t make either effect beautiful. The kind of power needed comes from moderate to high wind pressures and stops voiced with rich harmonic content for good projection. Upperwork should be for tonal color rather than power. At least one diapason chorus should include a very high pitched mixture, a tone color unique to the organ, but it must not be loud. Eight-foot diapasons, chorus reeds, open flutes and strings should work together to create an ensemble capable of standing up to a full symphony orchestra. As someone who has sat in the midst of a symphonic brass section, I have a clear idea of the kind of power that is generated by trumpets, trombones and horns at fff. To compete without sounding shrill and forced requires high pressure diapasons and reeds, including a 32′ stop—all under expression to fit any situation.

Good tonal design must be supported by a mechanism that helps the organist solve all the performance problems mentioned above—an instrument that is as easy as possible to manage. The organ builder should employ every device at his command to give the organ musical flexibility so that it can take its place as an equal among the other instruments of the orchestra.

The Nashville project
We were given an opportunity to demonstrate the effectiveness of these ideas in our project for the Schermerhorn Symphony Center in Nashville. This was one of those projects that went smoothly from beginning to end, with everything falling into place and no road blocks in the way. Of the greatest importance to the success of this job was the client’s clear musical goal and realization that a really great organ can’t be all things to all people. We had a well-defined mission: to build an instrument that is a member of the orchestra. To this end we worked from the beginning with Andrew Risinger, organ curator and symphony organist and also organist/associate director of music at West End United Methodist Church in Nashville.
We were appointed, at the very beginning of the project, to the design team that included acoustician Paul Scarbrough of Akustiks in Norwalk, Connecticut and design architects David M. Schwarz, Architectural Services of Washington, D.C. I had worked with both as organ consultant for the Cleveland Orchestra in the renovation of Severance Hall and its E. M. Skinner organ. The design team, under the skillful management of Mercedes Jones, produced a hall that could not be more perfect from our point of view. Seating 1,872, it is beautiful in its traditional design, excellent proportions, and fine materials. It is of the traditional “shoebox” shape that everyone knows is perfect but that few architects are willing to employ. Since, under the direction of Paul Scarbrough, all of the traditional acoustical rules were followed, the result is, indeed, perfect.
Reverberation time is controlled by dampening material that may be added or subtracted at will. There is excellent balance, clarity, and pleasing resonance even in the lowest reverberation setting. With all dampening material lifted out of the way at the press of a button, the hall is ideal for most organ and choral repertoire. In addition, there is one very unusual and practical feature that has an added impact for the organ. The orchestra seating section can be converted to a flat open floor for pops concerts and special events. Most of the transformation is accomplished automatically through a labyrinth of gigantic machinery in the basement. The huge expanse of polished wood flooring adds significant reverberation. This feature also, interestingly enough, increases the usage of the organ. The hall is often rented for weddings. This is perhaps the only symphony hall organ in the world that has a reason to play the Mendelssohn and Wagner marches!
The organ is in an ideal position just above the choral risers at the rear of the stage. The casework was designed in close cooperation with the architectural team and Paul Fetzer whose company, Fetzer Architectural Woodwork of Salt Lake City, built the façade along with the other woodwork of the hall. It affords full tonal egress from the open front chamber behind it, which is shallow for accurate unforced projection. The organ is arrayed on three levels. Most flues are on the first level. Reeds, celestes, some flutes and offsets are on the second, and Pedal on the third, with the exception of the Trombone and Diaphone, which occupy a space extending all three levels. The bass octave of the 32′ Sub Bass is in a most unusual spot—located horizontally underneath the patron’s boxes to the left and right of the stage apron! These large scale pipes produce a soft 32′ tone that is felt as well as heard throughout the entire auditorium. The 32′ Trombone is in its own expression box, and the Swell includes our double-expression system, wherein the softest and most powerful voices are in a separate enclosure at the rear of the Swell with shades speaking into the Swell. The Vox Humana is in its own expression box inside the double expressive division of the Swell and so is, in effect, under triple expression. Accurate climate control has been provided, keeping the organ at constant humidity and temperature. The blower room in the basement has its own cooling system to neutralize the effects of blower heat build-up. Intake air is filtered.
The instrument employs our expansion cell windchests and electric-pneumatic action. This allows uniform, fast and silent action for all pipes no matter their pressure as well as easy console mobility and the borrowing of stops for maximum flexibility. Obviously borrowing is employed heavily in the Pedal, but it is also used on the Great, where the high pressure diapasons 8′ and 4′, string, stopped flute, Cornet and Solo reeds are all available independently. It also makes practical the extension of Pedal stops into the Solo and facilitates an interesting effect, the Tuben stop, which borrows the Swell reeds onto the Solo at unison pitch (Posaune up an octave at 8′ and Clarion down an octave at 8′ along with the 8′ Trumpet).
The console has the usual playing aids, but has been kept as simple and straightforward as possible to facilitate efficient rehearsals. There is a record-playback system—helpful for rehearsals and also for house tours; the playback mechanism can be remotely controlled by tour guides. With the press of a button they can start the blower and select a demonstration piece to be played for public tours, which are a popular attraction in Music City.

Tonal design
The two pillars of tone are diapasons and trumpets. The manual diapason choruses contrast in tonal color and power. The Swell chorus (Manual III) is based on a slotted 8′ Diapason of moderate power with a slightly tapered 4′ Principal and a 2′ Mixture, which is under double expression. The Great (Manual II) has a large scale 8′ Diapason with upperwork through 1⁄3′ Mixture and a slotted, smaller scale double. The Solo (Manual I) has the largest scale and most powerful chorus, all under expression and at 10″ pressure. Its mixture can be drawn with and without a tierce. The trumpets range from closed, tapered shallots on 10″ wind in the Swell to open parallel shallots on 5″ wind in the Great to open parallel shallots on 15″ wind in the Solo, where tromba-type tone is added by the Tubas and Trombone. Built around these pillars is an ensemble of stops with color, definition and sinew that project well to produce power in a manner similar to the orchestral instruments and centered at the orchestra’s pitch. Note that 64% of the stops are at 8′ and 4′ pitch. A most rewarding comment on this subject came after the opening concert in Nashville from the visiting executive director of one of the world’s leading orchestras, who remarked that he didn’t know that it was possible for an organ to be so powerful and at the same time so beautiful.
There are several special tonal features including a newly developed stop—the Diplophone. We wanted to include solo stops of heroic power from each family of tone. Our usual solo Gambas, Symphonic Flute (which employs five different types of pipe construction throughout its compass including double mouth and double harmonic pipes), Tibia Clausa, Corno di Bassetto and Tuba Magna represented the string, open flute, stopped flute, color reed, and chorus reed families, but we needed a solo diapason of equal power. We tested normal stentorphone pipes and then double-languid pipes without achieving the character of tone and power we were after. We then tried a double-mouth diapason. Mouths on either side of the pipe allow a greater mouth width than is possible with a single opening. This, combined with high pressure, produces tremendous power with smoothness and beauty. Finally, we included a powerful mounted Cornet (unusual for us) because it is a tone color completely outside the range of the orchestra and should offer interesting possibilities to contemporary composers.
For a stop that can fade away to nothing, we added our Cor Seraphique and Vox Angelique. These are very strongly tapered stops of the muted (or hybrid) variety. They are neither strings nor flutes and have a mysterious quality that is very attractive, with a harmonic structure that promotes projection when the Swell boxes are open, but is soft enough to disappear with both boxes closed. This stop is extended to 16′ to provide the same effect in the Pedal.
The Pedal includes all classes of tone at 16′ pitch: open wood, open metal, string, hybrid, stopped wood, and two different weights of chorus reed tone, both under expression. One of the most important 16′ voices is the Violone, which gives a prompt clear 16′ line to double and amplify the basses of the orchestra. The most unusual, and in some ways most important, stop of the organ is the 32′ Diaphone. Diaphones have a tone quality that ranges from a very dark, almost pure fundamental to a slightly reedy quality. Since this organ is equipped with a 32′ Trombone under expression, the Diaphone is voiced for pure fundamental tone of magnificent power. It produces more solid fundamental bass than a large open wood diapason and it speaks and releases promptly.
Our Pizzicato Bass stop, which gives a clean pointed bass line when added to other stops playing legato, is included because of its value in choral accompaniment. There is a special Sforzando coupler that is engaged only when the Sforzando lever, located above the swell shoes, is touched. It allows Solo stops to be momentarily added to the Great for accent. The Solo has a variable speed tremulant.

Installation and debut
The organ was installed in several phases, which went very smoothly due to the outstanding cooperation and support of the symphony staff, led by president and CEO Alan D. Valentine and general manager Mark F. Blakeman, as well as the excellent building contractors, American Constructors, Inc. The atmosphere was collegial and, yes, there is such a thing as southern hospitality. The casework, display pipes, blowers and large pedal pipes were installed in February–May 2006. We completed the mechanical installation of the organ during the summer of 2006. Tonal finishing was carried out during the summer of 2007. The leisurely and well-spaced schedule avoided the conflicts and last minute scrambles that usually cut tonal finishing time.
The organ was presented to the public at the opening night gala of the 2007–08 season with Leonard Slatkin, conductor, and Andrew Risinger, organist. The program included the Bach Toccata and Fugue in D minor, Duruflé Prelude and Fugue on the Name Alain, Barber Toccata Festiva, and the Saint-Saëns Symphony No. 3. It was recorded for broadcast on SymphonyCast. The exceptionally active Nashville chapter of the AGO has co-sponsored events starting with a lecture-demonstration evening and including the “International Year of the Organ Spectacular” recital featuring Vincent Dubois. The orchestra has presented several programs including a “Meet the Organ” demonstration for students, a “Day of Music” free to the community, a series of noontime recitals, and Thomas Trenney playing accompaniments to the silent films Phantom of the Opera at a Halloween program in 2007 and The Mark of Zorro in 2008. The organ has been used to accompany the symphony chorus in concert and also in several additional orchestra subscription concerts including works by Elgar and Respighi. The 2008–09 season has already presented Andrew Risinger in the Copland Symphony for Organ and Orchestra with new music director Giancarlo Guerrero conducting, the noon recital series continues, and more programs are on the way.
The instrument has been greeted with enthusiasm from the artistic staff of the orchestra and the musicians. The public has embraced it warmly and we look forward to the 2012 AGO convention, where it will be one of the featured instruments.
Jack M. Bethards
President and Tonal Director
Schoenstein & Co
.

On behalf of Louis Patterson, V.P. and Plant Superintendent; Robert Rhoads, V.P. and Technical Director (retired); Chuck Primich, Design Director; Mark Hotsenpiller, Head Voicer;
department heads Chet Spencer, Chris Hansford and Mark Harter;
and technicians David Beck, Filiberto Borbon, Peter Botto, Dan Fishbein, Oliver Jaggi, George Morten, Humberto Palma, Tom Roberts, Dan Schneringer, Patricia Schneringer, Donald Toney, William Vaughan and William Visscher.

Cover photo by Louis Patterson

Schoenstein & Co.

The Martin Foundation Organ
The Nashville Symphony Orchestra
Schermerhorn Symphony Center
Nashville, Tennessee
47 voices, 64 ranks
Electric-pneumatic action

GREAT – II (5″ wind)
16′ Double Open Diapason 61 pipes
8′ Diplophone (Solo)
8′ Grand Open Diapason (Solo)
8′ First Open Diapason 61 pipes
8′ Second Open Diapason 12 pipes
8′ Gamba (Solo)
8′ Tibia Clausa (Solo)
8′ Harmonic Flute 61 pipes
8′ Salicional (Swell)
8′ Bourdon (metal) 61 pipes
8′ Lieblich Gedeckt
(borrow with Bourdon bass)
8′ Cor Celeste II (Swell)
4′ Octave (Solo)
4′ Principal 61 pipes
4′ Lieblich Gedeckt 61 pipes
2′ Fifteenth 61 pipes
11⁄3′ Mixture IV 200 pipes
1⁄3′ Mixture III 146 pipes
8′ Trumpet 61 pipes
4′ Clarion 61 pipes
8′ Cornet V (Solo)
8′ Tuba Magna (Solo)
8′ Tuba (Solo)
8′ Corno di Bassetto (Solo)

SWELL – III (enclosed, 5″ wind)
16′ Lieblich Bourdon (wood) 12 pipes
8′ Open Diapason 61 pipes
8′ Stopped Diapason (wood) 61 pipes
8′ Echo Gamba 61 pipes
8′ Vox Celeste 61 pipes
8′ Salicional 49 pipes
(Stopped Diapason bass)
4′ Principal 61 pipes
4′ Harmonic Flute 61 pipes
22⁄3′ Nazard 61 pipes
2′ Harmonic Piccolo 61 pipes
13⁄5′ Tierce 54 pipes
8′ Oboe 61 pipes
Tremulant
Stops under Double Expression†
16′ Cor Seraphique 12 pipes
8′ Cor Seraphique 61 pipes
8′ Voix Angelique (TC) 49 pipes
2′ Mixture III–V 244 pipes
16′ Posaune 61 pipes
8′ Trumpet 61 pipes
4′ Clarion 61 pipes
8′ Vox Humana†† 61 pipes
†Flues and Vox 6″ wind; Reeds 11½″
††Separate Tremulant; separate expression box

SOLO – I (enclosed, 10″ wind)
8′ Grand Open Diapason 61 pipes
8′ Symphonic Flute† 61 pipes
8′ Gamba 61 pipes
8′ Gamba Celeste 61 pipes
4′ Octave 61 pipes
2′ Quint Mixture IV
2′ Tierce Mixture V 270 pipes
8′ Tuba† 61 pipes
8′ Harmonic Trumpet† 61 pipes
8′ Tuben III††
8′ Corno di Bassetto† 61 pipes
Tremulant
Tremulant (variable)
Unenclosed Stops
8′ Diplophone 29 pipes
(ext Pedal Open Wood)
8′ Tibia Clausa 29 pipes
(ext Pedal Sub Bass)
8′ Cornet V (TG, 5″ wind) 185 pipes
16′ Trombone 5 pipes
(ext Pedal Trombone)
8′ Tuba Magna† 61 pipes
†15″ wind
††Swell Posaune, Trumpet and Clarion at 8′ pitch

PEDAL (4½″, 5″, 7½″, 10″, 15″ wind)
32′ Diaphone 12 pipes
32′ Sub Bass 12 pipes
16′ Diaphone 32 pipes
16′ Open Wood 32 pipes
16′ Violone 32 pipes
16′ Diapason (Great)
16′ Cor Seraphique (Swell)
16′ Sub Bass 32 pipes
16′ Bourdon (Swell)
8′ Open Wood 12 pipes
8′ Open Diapason (Swell)
8′ Principal 32 pipes
8′ Violone 12 pipes
8′ Gamba (Solo)
8′ Flute (Great)
8′ Sub Bass 12 pipes
8′ Bourdon (Swell)
4′ Fifteenth 32 pipes
4′ Flute (Great)
8′ Pizzicato Bass†
32′ Trombone†† 12 pipes
16′ Trombone†† 32 pipes
16′ Posaune (Swell)
8′ Tuba Magna (Solo)
8′ Trombone†† 12 pipes
8′ Posaune (Swell)
4′ Trombone†† 12 pipes
4′ Corno di Bassetto (Solo)
†8′ Sub Bass with Pizzicato Relay
††Enclosed in its own expression box

Couplers
Intramanual
Swell 16, Unison Off, 4
Solo 16, Unison Off, 4

Intermanual
Great to Pedal 8
Swell to Pedal 8, 4
Solo to Pedal 8, 4
Swell to Great 16, 8, 4
Solo to Great 16, 8, 4
Swell to Solo 16, 8, 4
Solo to Swell 8

Special
Pedal Tutti to Solo
Solo to Great Sforzando
All Swells to Swell
Manual I/II transfer piston with indicator

Mechanicals
Peterson ICS-4000 system with:
256 memory levels
62 pistons and toe studs
programmable piston range for each memory level
Piston Sequencer
10 reversible controls including Full Organ
Four balanced pedals with selector for expression and Crescendo
Record/Playback system with remote control
Adjustable bench

Mixture Compositions
Great IV
C1 A10 D15 A#35 G#45
19 15 12
22 19 15 12
26 22 19 15 12
29 26 22 19 15

Great III
C1 A10 D15 C25 A#35 G#45 B48 F#55
33 29 26
36 33 29 26 22 19 15 12
40 36 33 29 26 22 19 15

Swell III–V
C1 C#14 B24 A#47 D#52
15 8 8
19 15 12 8
22 19 15 12 8
22 19 15 12
22 19 15

Solo V
C1 A46 C#50 F#55
12
15 12
17 15 12
19 17 15 12
22 19 17 15

Solo IV derived from Solo V, without tierce

Tonal Families
Diapason† 17 36%
Open Flutes 7 15%
Stopped Flutes 4 9%
Strings 5 11%
Hybrids 2 4%
Chorus Reeds 9 19%
Color Reeds 3 6%
47 100%

†Includes Diaphone and Salicional

Pitch Summary
Sub
32′ 3 6%
16′ 6 13% 19%

Unison
8′ 22 47%
4′ 8 17% 64%

Super
22⁄3′ 1 2%
2′ 4 9%
Above 3 6% 17%
47 100% 100%

In the wind . . .

John Bishop

John Bishop is executive director of the Organ Clearing House.

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The temperamental organ
Winter was coming to an end, and at Fenway Park, fabled home of the Boston Red Sox, and the facilities manager was working down his checklist of pre-season chores. This would be the second year of the new ballpark organ, and he figured it would need tuning. He called up Fred Opporknockity, the guy who had delivered the organ, and asked if he could come to tune the organ before Opening Day. Fred replied that the organ didn’t need to be tuned—he was sure it would be fine. Mr. Facilities suggested that the organ at his church was tuned for Christmas and Easter. “No,” said Fred, “don’t you know that
Opporknockity tunes but once?”
This joins a long list of so-called jokes like the one that ends, “Is that an almond daiquiri, Dick?” “No, it’s a hickory daiquiri, Doc.” Or the one that goes . . . But I digress. (How can I digress when I’m only 160 words into it?)
In fact, the Fenway Park organ didn’t need to be tuned. It’s electronic and was tuned at the factory. But the tuning of pipe organs is a subject without end or beginning, without right or wrong, without rhyme or reason—it just needs to be in tune!
Mr. Facilities’ recollection that the church organ needs to be tuned for Christmas and Easter (notice that I capitalized Opening Day as a High Holyday!) is only half right, in my opinion. For years I scheduled big tuning routes that occupied Advent and Lent, but where I live in New England, Christmas and Easter are almost always both winter holidays, and the August brides would walk down countless center aisles straining to the strains of sorry 8-foot trumpets that made her guests pucker as if they were biting into a lemon. It’s my experience that summertime tuning problems always involve either “soprano” D, F#, or A, ruining virtually every Trumpet-Tune processional. In one wedding I played, the fourth E went dead—the trill on beat three of Jeremiah Clarke’s ubiquitous tune made me laugh. I was only quick enough to go down a half-step, a safe enough transposition because you can keep playing the same printed notes with a different key signature. It was an awkward sounding transition, but at least it gave me back my “dee diddle-diddle-diddle da-da dum de dum dum” instead of “dee doh-doh-doh da-da dum de dum dum.”
Gradually I changed my plan to define seasonal tunings as “heat-on” and “heat-off”—around here that works out to be roughly November and May—and maybe it means I found myself a little extra work because there often seem to be Easter touch-ups as well.

§

Why do we schedule tunings according to seasons? Simply and authoritatively because the pitch produced by an organ pipe of a given length is subject to temperature. Say a pipe plays “440-A” and say it’s 70 degrees in the church. Raise the temperature a degree and now the same pipe plays 442 (roughly). And the catch is that the reeds don’t change with temperature and the wooden pipes (especially stopped pipes) are more affected by humidity than temperature. So when there’s a temperature swing the organ’s tuning flies into pieces. You cannot define organ pitch without reference to temperature. A contract for a new organ is likely to have a clause that defines the organ’s pitch as A=440 at 68 degrees.
And here’s the other catch. My little example said it was 70 degrees in the church. But it’s never 70 degrees everywhere in the church. It may be 70 at the console, 66 in the Swell, 61 in the Choir, and 82 in the Great. If these are the conditions when it’s cold outside and the thermostat is set to 68, you can bet that summertime conditions have it more like 75 or 80 degrees everywhere in the building except any high-up area where you find organ pipes—then it’s super hot and the reeds won’t tune that high.
Conditions outdoors can have a dramatic effect on organ tuning. Imagine an organ placed in two chambers on either side of a chancel, and imagine that the back wall of each organ chamber is an outside wall. The tuner comes on a rainy Friday and gets the organ nicely in tune. Sunday dawns bright and sunny, the south-facing wall gets heated up by the sun and that half of the organ goes sharp. During the sermon the organist “txts” the tuner to complain about how awful the organ sounds. (Wht wr u doing☹) The following Thursday the organist shows up for choir rehearsal and finds the tuner’s bill in his mailbox. What would you do? Was it the tuner’s fault that it rained? Any good organ tuner pays attention to weather conditions and forecasts as if he were the mother of the bride planning an outdoor wedding.
I care for a large tracker-action organ in Boston, housed in a free-standing case with polished tin Principal pipes in the façades of Great, Pedal, and Rückpositiv cases. It’s situated in a contemporary building designed by a famous architect, who gave the congregation the gift of light from the heavens coming through a long narrow window that runs along the ridge of the roof. In the winter as the sun moves across the sky, brilliant light moves across the front of the organ, heating the façade pipes as it goes. Instantly the Great 8-foot Principal goes 30 or 40 cents (hundreds of a semi-tone) sharp. Do the math—how many hundredths of a semitone are there in a quarter-tone? Guess what time of day this happens? Eleven AM. And guess what time the opening hymn is played on a Sunday morning? The first time I tuned that organ, I felt as though I were in a carnival fun-house with mirrors distorting the world around me as the organ’s pitch followed the sun across the room.

Temperature’s rising
In order to do a conscientious tuning, we ask the church office to be sure the heat is up for when we tune. When they ask what it should be set to, I reply that they should pretend that the tuning is a Sunday morning worship service. If the heat is turned up to 68 degrees five hours before the hour of worship, then set the heat at 68 five hours before the tuning. It’s not very scientific but it seems to get the point across.
I’ve arrived many times to start a tuning to find that there is no heat in the church. Sorry, can’t tune. I’ll come back tomorrow—and the time and mileage I spent today goes on your bill. Once I showed up at the church (made of blue brick and shaped like a whale—some architects have the strangest ideas) and the sexton proudly announced, “I got it good and warm in there for you this time.” It was 95 degrees in the church and the organ sounded terrible. Sorry, can’t tune. I’ll come back tomorrow. He must have run $400 of fuel oil through that furnace in addition to my bill for wasted time. And the haughty authoritative pastor of a big city Lutheran church once said to me from under an expensively-coiffed shock of theatrical white hair, “We heat the church for the people, not the organ.”
The eternal battle of the organ tuner and the thermostat is not because we don’t like working in cold rooms. It’s not because we want the organ to be warm. It’s physics. When you chill oxygen, the molecules get closer together and it thickens to the point at which it becomes a liquid. When air warms, the molecules get further apart. When the air molecules get further apart, the air gets less dense. When the air gets less dense, sound waves need less energy and they shorten. When the sound waves shorten, the pitch increases. It’s not a matter of comfort, it’s physical law—the laws of physics.
The same laws say that the organ will be in tune at the temperature at which it was tuned. Set the thermostat at 68 on Thursday for the organ tuning, turn it down to 55, then back up to 68 on Sunday. Voila! The organ is in tune—unless the weather changed. And it’s better for the organ not to be vigorously heated all the time. Ancient European organs have survived for centuries partly because their buildings are not superheated. American churches are often guilty of “organ baking”—keeping the heat up all winter, using the argument that it’s more cost-efficient than reheating a cold building several times a week.

It’s a Zen thing.
I’ve been asked if I have perfect pitch. No—and I’m glad I don’t. A roommate of mine at Oberlin had perfect pitch, and he identified that my turntable ran slow (remember turntables?). It didn’t bother me—but he couldn’t bear it. The organ tuner with perfect pitch has to compensate for the fact that you are not necessarily tuning at A=440. If the organ is a few cents sharp or flat when you arrive to tune, chances are you’re going to leave it that way. It takes several days to change the basic pitch of most organs. And for really big organs it can take weeks.
I’ve been asked how I can stand listening to “out of tune-ness” all day. I don’t like hearing it when I’m listening to organ music or attending worship, but when I’m tuning I love it because I can change it. There’s a satisfaction about working your way up a rank of pipes bringing notes into tune. You can feel them “click” into tune—in good voicing there’s a sort of latching that I sense when I give the pipe that last little tick with my tool.
An organ tuner is something of a contortionist—he has to be able to forget about physical discomfort in the often-awkward spaces inside an organ so he can concentrate on the sounds. He often hangs from a ladder or a swell-shutter for stability. (Key holders, please keep your dagnabbit feet off the Swell pedal!) He learns to tune out little mechanical noises and defects of speech. An organ pipe might have burps and bubbles in its speech that are clearly heard when you’re inside the organ and still sound perfect from the nave or the console.
He gets into a nice quiet state and a rhythm develops: “next,” tick-tick-tick, “next,” tick-tick-tick. A couple hours and ten ranks (610 pipes) into it and the sexton comes in with a vacuum cleaner. The flowers are delivered for Sunday. A lawn mower starts up at the house next door. The pastor brings in a soon-to-be married couple. They politely assure me, “Don’t worry, you’re not disturbing us.”
Once I showed up to tune the organ at a university chapel. A couple heavy trucks full of equipment were outside and a guy was loading tools into the bucket of a cherry picker. I went up to him saying I was there to tune the organ and wondered if they’d be making noise. “Not much,” he said, “just a little hammer-drilling.”

§

As I write, the Red Sox official website says that the Opening Day game at Fenway Park starts in twelve days, eight hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three seconds. It doesn’t really matter whether the organ is tune or not—they don’t use it as a ballpark organ any more. But there was a time when the organ music was an integral part of the ballpark experience. A common question in Boston sports trivia quizzes was, “Who’s the only person who played for the Red Sox, the Bruins (hockey), and the Celtics (basketball)?” Answer—John Keilly, the organist for Fenway Park and the Boston Garden.
My father and I have been to dozens (maybe hundreds?) of games at Fenway Park. He’s had the same seats (section 26, row 4, seats 13 and 14) since the early 1970s. When John Keilly was at the Hammond B-3, we joked about getting to the park early so we could hear the preludes. And he had an uncanny knack for playing the right tune at the right time. When Carlton Fisk hit his now legendary “walk-off” twelfth-inning homerun to win game six of the 1975 World Series, Keilly created a secondary sports legend when he played “Hallelujah”—though not according to historical performance practices.

§

Nancy Faust was organist for the Chicago White Sox from 1970 until her last game on Sunday, October 3, 2010. She missed five games in 1983 when her son was born—otherwise she played for more than 3,200 games without missing one. When she was hired, petitions were circulated by fans and sports officials offended that the White Sox had placed a woman on the team’s payroll. But she came into her own when Harry Caray became the radio commentator for the Sox. He gave her the moniker Pretty Nancy Faust, and started the tradition of leaning out the window of his announcer’s box to lead the singing of Take Me out to the Ballgame as Nancy played. She played by ear, and kept current with all the latest music through her four decades of playing so she was always ready with a current musical quip for the amusement of the fans. She was the originator of the ballpark use of the now ubiquitous 1969 Steam song Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss him goodbye), playing it when the pitcher of an opposing team was pulled out during the 1977 pennant race.
Nancy Faust was honored by the White Sox for her years of service to the team and its fans on September 18, 2010 in a pre-game ceremony. Ten thousand Pretty Nancy Faust bobblehead dolls were distributed to fans that day. My wife Wendy lived and worked in Chicago for about ten years, and as both a gifted organist and a baseball fan, she joined countless other Chicagoans celebrating Faust’s contribution to the game. We heard about her retirement on the NPR sports program “Only A Game” early one Saturday morning, and Wendy let me know how much she wanted one of those dolls. With thanks to Chicago organbuilding colleague and theatre organ guru Jeff Weiler, I found one complete with the ticket stub for the September 18 game, and it now has an honored place in our living room.
In the pages of this journal we often read about churches celebrating their retiring long-time organists. I’ve read plenty of stories about fancy concerts with reunions of dozens of past choir members, music committees commissioning commemorative anthems (bet you can’t say that three times fast!), cakes that look like pipe organs, bronze plaques, and surprise tickets for Caribbean cruises, but never bobblehead dolls. How cool is that? 

Cover feature

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Buzard Pipe Organ Builders, LLC, Champaign, Illinois, Opus 33, 2006

St. Francis in the Fields Episcopal Church, Zionsville, Indiana

Zionsville, Indiana is a quaint community about 30 minutes north of Indianapolis. It has retained its rural character, but added modern coffee shops, restaurants, and shopping along the historic Main Street. Farms dot the outlying area, inhabited primarily by today’s generations of their founding families. Horses are kept for sport. Until only last year, Main Street featured an equine and tack shop, where one could purchase saddles, bits, and bridles, and be measured for a custom-made pair of English riding boots.

St. Francis in the Fields Episcopal Church sits on a lane in the newer part of town. The church was originally built in 1968. An early 20th-century Sanborn tracker-action organ was renovated and installed by Goulding & Wood in 1988, and the church was expanded to its present and complete form in 1997. Indianapolis architect Tim Fleck, of Woolens, Molzen, and Partners, designed and finished the space.

These days it is a luxury for a small rural church to have a pipe organ of any description, and St. Francis used their old tracker organ to its greatest and fullest extent. However, as the parish and its music program grew, the old instrument was found wanting. In 1992, their rector, The Rev. Sandra Michels, invited me to visit, having heard of the success of our then new organ at the Episcopal Campus Chapel at the University of Illinois. We met, and I offered several recommendations for instruments of differing size.

The church wrestled with a “catch-22.” The building is not so big as to require a large organ to fill it with sound for vigorous hymn-singing. However, the ambitious choral program of traditional Anglican offerings really cried out for tonal variety—which only a somewhat larger instrument could offer. And, of course, since no one at the church really knew what pipe organs cost, the price came as a real shock. The organ project was shelved, and, as the parish continued to grow, the then new organist/choirmaster Lee Barlow took up the cause afresh for a new instrument.

Lee was acquainted with the many tonal and mechanical benefits of slider chests, and the discipline that they bring to good organ design. But he also wanted to take advantage of the flexibility that unit work can bring to a well-designed pipe organ, as long as it did not in any way compromise the instrument’s integrity.

Having some stops appear on unit chests also became advantageous as we learned that the organ’s initial purchase price had to be limited to a fixed dollar amount, based upon a donation received from a very generous parishioner. Although the donation was certainly significant, the amount was less than a tonally complete organ would cost. We had to design an organ that could at least initially be built for the amount of the single donation—and be efficiently expandable to the proper size as succeeding contributions were received. Partially because unit stops are more expensive than stops planted on slider chests, they make good candidates for preparations, and easier reductions to an organ’s initial purchase price.

Initially, more stops were prepared for the future than the printed specification shows. Although it was against my nature to do so, I had a positive feeling that the church would reinstate the important stops in time for them to be included as the organ was constructed in the shop, and indeed they did!
The limited balcony space was also an issue. Therefore we opted to place the Great in a case projecting over the balcony rail, and place the Swell and Pedal divisions in a case centered on the balcony floor, at the rear wall, behind the choral singers. We kept the Swell and Pedal case simple, echoing the classical architectural design of the chancel and its furnishings. The slightly more fanciful Great case relates to the building’s round window frames in its use of rounded towers with rounded pipe shades. Roman mouths in the façade pipes tie both cases together nicely. The cases are made of 11⁄2" thick solid white oak, with walnut and basswood accents. The front case’s pipe shades are carved—albeit by machine—in a 19th-century pattern. The console is also made of 11⁄2" thick white oak, with polished walnut interior accents, keyboards, slips, nameboard, and drawknob wings.

The action is primarily electrically operated slider and pallet windchests. The unit stops have expansion chambers built into every note’s toe and valve holes, to replicate the speech and repetition characteristics of the slider chest magnets. Our treatment of the actions and chests encourages beautiful speech, and reconciles the slight difference in repetition characteristics between the slider stops and the unit stops.

In small organs, every note of every stop is crucial to the entire organ’s tonal structure. And, dividing the organ with the Great over the rail poses some listening challenges for the organist. We like for the Swell to balance the Great. Absent a Swell 8¢ Diapason, the Swell Salicional and Stopped Diapason blend together to create a composite foundation tone, and balance the Great Diapason. Once the foundations are set, their choruses are built up from these references. Since the Swell is further away from the listeners in the nave, the Swell Salicional sounds very bold indeed at the console. But, for accompanying, it is at a perfect point for softer contexts when the expression box is partially or fully closed.

The Open Diapasons in our organs are very personal musical statements, and I pray that organists and organ purchasers will give me artistic license to grow and evolve as time passes. Those of you who have followed my work during the last 15 years will note that our earlier Diapasons were larger in scale than those we’re building now. Especially in smaller organs, a slightly smaller scale, blown on a moderate pressure, can be cut-up and voiced to produce a beautifully warm, solemn sound, and still have plenty of “urgency” to the tone. Here we have Diapasons that are warm indeed, with a compelling palette of upper partials. The result is warmth without fatness, and an uncanny ability to blend with upper pitches to keep the entire chorus interesting, without becoming “spiky.”

Just as Diapasons are the meat of the sound, the reeds, strings, and flutes are the spice in the cooking! The flutes are all different, and colorful. The Great uses our cheeky 8' Flûte à Bibéron, or “baby-bottle” flute; the Swell, a smoky wooden 8' Stopped Diapason. The 4' flutes’ construction is opposite that of the 8' stops, so that their sounds blend better, and provide contrast between divisions. The Swell strings are lush and beautiful, and lend themselves nicely to being super-coupled with the expression box closed at just the right moment in an anthem or improvisations. The Swell and Pedal Bassoon/Oboe is fundamental and mildly powerful in the bass, but becomes more hollow and plaintive as it enters the manual compass. As is typical of our Oboes, it is primarily meant to color the flues for accompanying, but is also a lovely, lyrical soft solo voice. The Swell Trumpet is slightly on the dark side, in deference to the nature of the small room, but remains interesting by virtue of the open, tapered shallot openings, and slightly thinner tongues, weighted at the ends. When installed, the Pedal Trombone, an independent Pedal reed, will be on slightly higher pressure so that it can have a measured profundity. The future Tuba (note I have not used the adjective “Major” in its nomenclature) will be on moderately high wind pressure; its top three octaves will be horizontally mounted at the top of the Swell case’s pediment.

Thanks to the rector, The Rev. Sandra Michels; organist/choirmaster Lee Barlow; and Dr. Marilyn Keiser, who assured the church that this organ would not be too big for the space! Thanks also to the dedicated people on my staff who continue to build some of the most inspired instruments in America!

—John-Paul Buzard



Charles Eames, executive vice-president, chief engineer, general manager

Brian K. Davis, associate tonal director, head voicer, director, tonal department

Phillip S. Campbell, business manager

Keith Williams, director, service department

Stephen P. Downes, pipe preparation, racking, tonal associate

C. Robert Leech, cabinet maker

Stuart Martin, cabinet maker

Jenaiah Michael, receptionist

Evan Rench, pipe maker, voicer, racking, tonal associate

Jay K. Salmon, office manager

Lyoshia Svinarski, cabinet maker

Shayne Tippett, winding systems

Ray Wiggs, console, electrical systems, wind chest construction

From the organist/choirmaster

The reality of a new instrument was launched by a financial gift from one of St. Francis’s founding members. The new organ needed to support the congregation for service music and hymnody; accompany the choral music, which spans 500 years’ worth of literature; play a majority of the organ literature; and accompany diverse instruments for our concert series.

After hearing and seeing many organs, talking at length with organbuilders, and reviewing various proposals, it was clear that John-Paul Buzard’s thoughtful proposal of a two-manual, 27-rank specification and double case layout would provide an instrument that would meet the requirements of our space and music program. Much gratitude goes to our organ consultant, Dr. Marilyn Keiser, who both affirmed the project’s vision and confirmed John Buzard’s proposal as its realization.

Working with John Buzard and company was pure pleasure. John’s enthusiasm knew no bounds when it came to discussing any aspect of the new organ. He was always open to questions and willing to answer in detail. We are very grateful to him and Chuck Eames for wrestling around the prepared stops; we look forward to installing the Pedal 16' Trombone, the solo 8' Tuba, and the Great and Pedal 16' & 8' Gedeckts.

John’s knowledge and skill are self-evident in both the visual and sonic beauties of the instrument. The organ design was impressive on paper, but in three dimensions it is absolutely magnificent. Visually, it has given a henceforth unknown height to the rear gallery. Musically, its softest sounds fill the room, yet at its fullest it flattens not the ear. It is a joy to play, and it beckons practice. Many and most gracious thanks to you, John-Paul Buzard, for bestowing upon us a masterpiece of your artistry.

—A. Lee Barlow

St. Francis in the Fields Episcopal Church, Zionsville, Indiana, Buzard Opus 33

20 stops, 27 ranks



GREAT (Manual I, 4" wind pressure)

16' Lieblich Gedeckt (stoppered wood, preparation)

8' Open Diapason (polished tin, façade)

8' Flûte à Bibéron

8' Gedeckt Flute (ext)

4' Principal

4' Spire Flute

22⁄3' Twelfth

2' Fifteenth

13⁄5' Seventeenth

11⁄3' Fourniture IV

8' Oboe (Sw)

Tremulant

8' Tuba (high pressure, horizontal, atop case, prepared)

Great to Great 16-UO-4

Swell to Great 16, 8, 4


SWELL (Manual II, expressive, 4" wind pressure)

8' Stopped Diapason (wood)

8' Salicional

8' Voix Celeste (tc)

4' Principal

4' Harmonic Flute

2' Recorder

2' Full Mixture IV

16' Bassoon

8' Trompette

8' Oboe

Tremulant

Cymbalstern (7 bells)

8' Tuba (Gt prep)

Swell to Swell 16-UO-4


PEDAL (various pressures, partially enclosed & expressive)

32' Subbass (1–12 digital ext, prep)

32' Lieblich Gedeckt (1–12 digital ext, prep)

16' Bourdon (stoppered wood)

16' Lieblich Gedeckt (Gt prep)

8' Principal (polished tin, façade)

8' Bass Flute (ext Bourdon)

8' Gedeckt Flute (Gt)

4' Choral Bass (ext Principal)

4' Open Flute (ext Bourdon)

16' Trombone (preparation)

16' Bassoon (Sw)

8' Trumpet (ext Trombone)

4' Shalmei (Sw Oboe)

8' Tuba (Gt)

Great to Pedal 8, 4

Swell to Pedal 8, 4

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