I.
By the time the romantic era concluded in the 1930s, the organ, at its best, after centuries of progress, had achieved a level of musical expressiveness and technical sophistication that placed it in the mainstream of musical life. Its versatility in both accompanimental and solo roles earned it recognition as a standard and accepted medium not only for sacred and art music, but also in the commercial sphere where the theatre organ was a dominant voice. This is a condition of musical life hard to picture today since most of us grew up seeing the organ removed from the main stage and placed in the museum of early music. Even in the church, the accompanimental and emotional qualities of the organ often have been sacrificed on the altar of limited solo repertoire. I submit that the time is past due to pick up the traces where the great innovators of organbuilding left off and continue the development of the organ’s expressive qualities. If the organ is to retain its centrality in the church and regain general acceptance elsewhere, the symphonic organ, which successfully addresses issues of performance flexibility common to other mainstream musical media, must again become a serious pursuit of organbuilders.
An analysis of the several decades’ cessation in the evolution of the organ should be the subject of another article save for two points. First, it must be admitted that one of the most compelling reasons for the success of the organ reform movement was the sheer number of bad romantic organs. I refer to those bereft of any connection with the age-old traditions of the craft--those either poorly designed or poorly made that only drew a caricature of romanticism. Second, the voluminous research into our glorious past has produced many superb and delightful instruments and a wealth of scholarship that most likely would not have resulted without time out for reflection. Therefore, it is safe to say that the value from this hiatus in the evolution of the organ offers enough positive points to balance the damage done to romantic organs in the wake of revision. It also has set the stage for what may be the greatest period in the organ’s history, a time when symphonic organs will flourish along with organs dedicated to interpretation of specific solo repertoire, each type serving in the appropriate context. In fact, in the last few years such a trend has begun to emerge. Among the younger generation of organ scholars, there is great interest in all types of music and all types of organs. It is even possible that the days of academic judgment of organs and organists based on style will change to that based on musicianship and quality.
The Symphonic Ideal
Putting musical concepts into words is nearly impossible, certainly so without commonly accepted definitions. I selected the word “symphonic” to describe both the most sophisticated developments of the romantic era and their further development today. Many have used the term “orchestral” to describe organs of the late romantic period, but this is misleading. It implies imitating the orchestra, and, in the case of a theatre organ, replacing it. This is not what the organ can or should do. The term “symphonic” implies certain musical qualities. If it can describe a type of orchestra it should be able to describe a type of organ as well. Few will disagree that the modern symphony orchestra is the most expressive of all instrumental media. To be fully expressive a medium must be able to transmit faithfully the intellectual ideas and subjective moods of the composer to the listener in the most minute detail. This is accomplished through form, rhythm, melody, harmony, dynamics, tone color, articulation, accent, and phrasing. Other things being equal, the best medium will provide the most precise rhythm, the greatest clarity of melody and harmony, the widest dynamic range, the greatest variety in tone color, and the most responsive control to provide articulation, accent, phrase, and form. Certainly our fine symphony orchestras have these qualities. Most organs do not. This is a shame, because the organ has the ability to surpass the orchestra in certain ways. First, the organ has a wider frequency range stretching octaves below and above orchestral instruments. Second, the organ has a unique tone color, the diapason chorus, an element of nobility and grandeur unsurpassed. Third, the organ has the sometimes dubiously applied ability for unlimited sostenuto. Used properly, this makes it possible to execute extremely long phrases (the grand line) as well as dramatic crescendi and diminuendi and exceptionally long ppp chords. The strings of the orchestra can come near this quality, but the winds and the human voice cannot. Fourth, and by far most important, the organ is under the control of one artist. No matter how great the orchestra or the conductor, different musical minds are at work. A skilled artist in control of a responsive organ can infuse a work with single-mindedness that is impossible with any group musical effort. Obviously, this advantage is even more important to the rendering of subtle accompaniments.
What great promise for expanded musicality the organ offers! This is certainly what drove organbuilders of the past to develop ever more expressive instruments. This quality is also what attracted huge audiences to the organ. But the challenges of realizing the full potential of the organ are great; perhaps some are insurmountable. The organ is, after all, a machine--sometimes a very large and complex one. No other instrument is less personal. Even on a modest instrument, the organist is separated from the pipes by enough mechanism to give the feeling of working by remote control. Consoles are often placed where it is impossible to hear balance and difficult to maintain rhythm. These and so many other roadblocks to musicianship lead one to believe that the organ is a monster daring people to tame it. Certainly the organist faces the most demanding challenge among all instrumentalists. Although it is deceptively easy for an amateur to make sounds of pompous grandeur and cheap sentiment, only an artist of great technical ability and depth of understanding can bring out the full expressive capabilities of the organ. If the organ is to become more accessible, it is important not only to develop its expressive range to symphonic proportions but to increase its flexibility and ease of control.
Having briefly discussed the application to the organ of the term “symphonic,” meaning an instrument of greater expressive range than one designed for a specific part of the solo repertoire, we turn to the word “accompanimental,” which is equally important in this context. Most organs are in churches and most churches value accompaniments over solos. A good accompanimental organ requires all of the above-mentioned symphonic qualities. Actually, the requirements for accompaniment are greater than those for the romantic and modern repertoire. The organist is asked to accompany full congregations, professional choirs, children’s choruses, small ensembles of instrumentalists and singers, as well as soloists--all of these in music of every conceivable style, sometimes written for orchestra. The ideal accompanimental organ can provide any tone color or blend of colors at any dynamic level. An organ dedicated to early music and without effective enclosure cannot do it. How many times have we heard conductors say, “That’s a nice sound, but it must be louder,” or “You have the right volume, but can’t it be of a different quality?” Often the organist is at a loss to comply and must resort to adding or subtracting upperwork for loudness, and awkwardly transposing octaves to achieve a satisfactory tone color. Usually these and other tricks fail to satisfy the conductor who can only regret that he didn’t hire an orchestra in the first place. The best accompanimental organ must have the resources to make instant adjustments to fill the conductor’s requests in rehearsal and adjust to acoustical changes in performance. Without a well-placed and thoughtfully equipped console, this is often impossible. Many organs do not even have the wherewithal to accompany congregational singing, which requires an especially strong and prompt-speaking pedal bass to maintain tempo, and a dominant 8¢ line to lead melody. Most organs fail to deliver the most thrilling choir accompaniment effect the organ has to offer: that of full diapason and reed choruses under perfect dynamic control to match the level of any ensemble. Service playing often requires certain special effects as well, such as the heroic solo Tuba, the whisper-soft celeste, and quiet 32¢ tone. These effects are not strictly necessary on an organ dedicated to solo repertoire, but they are vital in church work. Musical scope is also important in church work because the organ must maintain the interest of musicians, clergy and parishioners week after week and year after year.
The need for expressive flexibility in accompaniment is perhaps the most important argument in favor of the symphonic organ, but there are others as well that apply in both sacred and secular venues. As a portrayer of the organ solo repertoire, the symphonic organ is obviously far more versatile than the repertoire-specific instrument. It is easier to fit pre-romantic repertoire to the symphonic organ than it is to fit romantic and modern repertoire to the classical or baroque organ. There is a direct comparison in the orchestral world: It is easier to give a musically convincing performance of a Mozart symphony with a modern symphony orchestra than it is to attempt a Mahler symphony with a classical ensemble of early instruments. Admittedly, an intriguing reproduction of what Mozart might have heard in his day is only possible with the classical orchestra, but a first rate performance by a modern orchestra should be every bit as musically satisfying.
The quality and architecture of tone can be loosely compared to the accent and grammar of language. If the structure (architecture or grammar) is solid, the color (quality or accent) can vary to a great degree and still preserve meaning. For example, Franck often requires an equally balanced duet between flute and trumpet. A neo-classic organ with a piercing Schalmey and a soft Rohrflöte cannot do justice to the music because the balance is wrong. However, a good Victorian organ with Cornopean and Claribel Flute can. A listener with an open mind can enjoy the performance with a different quality of tone because the architecture is in place. The Flûte harmonique and Trompette are ideal, but the English accent can be equally interesting and musically valid. By the same token a Bach trio sonata can be musically effective without a North German accent if the balance among stops is correct.
Being a vehicle for improvisation and an inspiration for new compositions are two related imperatives for the symphonic organ. The greater the range of expressive possibilities, the greater the desire to stretch one’s creative skill. Is it possible that a resurgence of inventiveness in symphonic organbuilding could ignite a burst of compositional brilliance and improvisational creativity as did the symphonic organ of Cavaillé-Coll? Since the end of the romantic period, most mainstream composers have ignored the organ. Could this be because of so many limitations and quirks?
Finally we come to the question of solo transcriptions. Some argue that transcriptions deserve no place on organ recitals because the proliferation of symphony orchestras and the universal availability of recordings and broadcasts have eliminated the need for the organ to bring symphonic music to the masses. This is true; and it is good news because it releases the organ from the onerous task of performing music that is ill-suited to it. With performers free to select only that music which translates best to the organ, transcriptions can be presented as an art form in their own right. There are two good reasons to do this. First, hearing familiar music in a different medium is often enlightening. Sometimes aspects of the music are made more clear and benefit from a greater range of expression. Second, the organ, being under the control of one artist, can often render a more convincing performance than can an orchestra. There are pieces that I, for one, would prefer to hear in transcription. There is, however, one cautionary note. Transcription should only be attempted by the very finest artists. Of late there has been a bit of a transcription fad. Inferior performances of unsuitable repertoire have further bolstered the arguments of transcription naysayers. Therefore, since there is no need for solo transcriptions, they should be strictly limited to repertoire that is organistic in nature. (By the way, the same could be said of much contemporary church music: it is simply not organistic.) The only point to transcriptions in this day and age is to create an artistic result that is in the same league as the organ’s own repertoire. Even some very good musicians select poor material because in their mind’s ear intricate rhythms and the voicing of complex, dissonant chords are perfectly clear, even though they are not the slightest bit clear to the listener, who is without a score and hears only the sound produced. It is obvious that an orchestrator has a great deal more freedom than even the finest organist on the finest organ in voicing complex harmony throughout the range of an orchestra. Pieces that require this kind of orchestration should be left to orchestras. (Of course, even symphony orchestras have their limits, which are clearly shown when they attempt swing music at pops concerts.) There is a wealth of beautiful material available that is truly adaptable to the organ, and therefore broadens the organ’s repertoire.
Is there a single test of an organ’s symphonic qualities? Certainly the ultimate test is its usefulness and beauty in everyday work, but there is one quick trial that never fails to uncover holes in the fabric--the improvised build-up. If an organ can sustain interest over a long crescendo from ppp to fff, one which exhibits absolute smoothness with no gaps as tone colors merge, as patterns of rhythm, articulation and accent change, and as new pitches are introduced, the organ is likely to be able to perform well in a great range of solo and accompanimental roles.
Symphonic Design
There are seven characteristics that an organ must possess to be considered symphonic: variety of vividly differentiated tone colors; balance, both horizontal (tone) and vertical (pitch); clarity to define form and harmonic structure; wide dynamic range under effective control; a wind system that aids in rhythm and accent; an action system that facilitates accuracy, articulation, phrasing, and accent; comfortable, easy, and minute console control of all the organ’s resources. Note the conspicuous absence of imitative orchestral voices on this list. The symphonic ideal has nothing whatsoever to do with imitating an orchestra; it has everything to do with giving the organ the same power of expression that the symphony orchestra has. An organ can be symphonic without any of the voices that imitate orchestral instruments. The foundation and, indeed, the glory of the organ is its family of diapasons and other tones unique to the organ. The diapason chorus is to the organ as the string section is to the orchestra. It is its signature. The other tonal families add immeasurably to the organ, but without fully developed diapason tone, a symphonic organ is a failure.
