The late 20th century has not been kind to church acoustics. Good homes for organs are becoming increasingly scarce. Existing ones are under siege, as acoustically fine churches are spoiled all around us by misguided renovations often made, curiously, in the name of acoustical improvement. And sadly, what is usually offered today by architects for an organ environment in new buildings falls woefully short of the mark. While the problem is hardly a new one, it has never been more severe. Increased wealth and shifting tastes, especially toward comfortable interior furnishings, have lent the trend increasing force. The result is that poor church acoustics have become perhaps the greatest impediment to fine organ building in America.
For as long as anyone can recall in the organ building business, there have been battles over church acoustics with prospective customers. Organs are more sensitive to their surroundings than other instruments. Thus inordinate amounts of time have been and are being spent educating parishioners in the fundamentals of liturgical acoustics—not only for the sake of their investment in an organ, but for improvement of the entire worship environment. Looking back on it, we don't seem to have gotten very far. Sound absorbing carpets, pew cushions, and flimsy construction are far more prevalent today than they were 30 years ago, and ignorance of what is missing pervades the church. It would be easy to lose heart, for the road has become a lonely one. Yet, the occasional reminder of hearing an organ and congregation singing in a great space somehow keeps organ builders pressing toward the goal.
One can hardly blame parishioners for not understanding what constitutes proper acoustics in a church. Most have never encountered any good examples, let alone worshiped in them regularly. Two hundred years ago the accepted techniques of construction and furnishing for buildings, be they public halls or private homes, would have tended to create a favorable acoustical setting for organ music. In America today we seldom experience such naturally resonant spaces. Prevailing influences on architecture from cost cutting to modern building materials, aesthetic taste and energy conservation have so reshaped our aural expectations that if by chance a reverberant space appears, people hasten to tame it with acoustical absorption. Hopefully, a return to once assumed but now forgotten acoustical values can be brought about through education. To this end we can ask what makes a proper acoustical space for an organ and why it is so difficult to have one built and to keep it unspoiled.
The basic acoustical needs of an organ are simple enough. Apart from the musical quality of the instrument itself, two factors stand out as crucial to success. The first is the requirement that the room support and carry the sound of the organ well. The second is proper placement of the organ within the room.
Organ music, like choral and congregational singing, flourishes in reverberant spaces. Even one stop voiced by an amateur can sound full and beautiful in a lively, reflective space, while many ranks in a dead room strain to create a similar effect. Organ tone should linger in the room for between two and four seconds, decaying gradually without discernible echoes. It is not enough, however, to make the space merely reverberant. The response should be well balanced for all frequencies from 32 cycles to 8,000 cycles (corresponding to the organ's bass and treble pitches), so that the music is neither shrill, monotonous, nor muddy, but rather warm, full, and clear. Note that organs have a wider frequency spectrum than the human voice, and that therefore acoustics which are adequate for singing may not support the highest and/or lowest frequencies of the pipes. Meeting these acoustical standards from an architectural standpoint requires close attention to the shape and volume of the space, to the materials used to create it, and especially to the way the materials are used.
An organbuilder is usually called on to propose an organ for an existing church. Discussions almost always include suggestions from the builder for acoustical improvements. To foresee where these proposals may lead, an examination of the acoustical ideals of new buildings is helpful, for the same principles apply to renovations.
To determine a suitable shape for a church, one begins with examples of existing churches which are known to work well acoustically. Many of the best are older buildings which have proven their merits over the years. Organs developed in Europe where churches were generally rectangular in floor plan, often with transepts and side aisles. These buildings were tall in proportion to their floor area. Music developed freely above the heads of the congregation in space which had no other practical value than its spiritual power in music and vision. These churches were also relatively narrow, a significant feature in reflecting organ music off side walls, thereby blending and focusing the tone in a particular direction rather than allowing its energy to dissipate. Opposing walls were rarely completely parallel but were so shaped as to diffuse sound evenly rather than permit problematic flutter echoes and encourage certain frequencies at the expense of others. Vaulted ceilings, uneven plastered walls, chandeliers and other furnishings and molded details usually insured proper diffusion. Church architects today ignore these time-honored principles at great risk.
Sturdy material such as masonry and plaster characterize the construction of the best traditional churches. These materials have sufficient mass to reflect sound energy evenly. By comparison, weak panels of thin modern materials which drum when struck (for example, large expanses of glass, or gypsum board and plywood on widely-spaced studs) are no friend to organ tone.
Designing and building an outstanding space for an organ does not need to be prohibitively expensive. Architectural style is not so important, so long as the boundaries of shape and materials are heeded. A sympathetic architect who is not afraid to learn from successful models should have little trouble presenting a compelling design based on a simple shape. The wise use of ordinary construction materials can go a long way toward holding down costs. For example, concrete block and gypsum board can be used effectively, so long as they are made to be firm reflectors of sound. In the case of block this means sealing its pores. Old-fashioned plaster makes a fine interior coat. Several layers of gypsum board firmly anchored to a stronger wall behind work well.
Height in a church, on the other hand, does not come cheaply. It is exactly here than many a promising design is cut down to size, leaving the church acoustically and architecturally crippled. Organ music suffers from the loss.
Today's overriding concern with the conservation of heat regularly takes precedence over church acoustics on several counts. Thermal insulation, sound absorbent by nature, is most often installed just behind thin inner walls. Making such walls acoustically reflective does involve additional cost, but the problem can be solved if a solution is desired. Furthermore, people wish to save on fuel bills by avoiding high ceilings. They do not respond well to the suggestion that they might lower their thermostats instead.
This brings up the whole issue of comfort, which has become such a threat to liturgical acoustics. In the Middle Ages, significantly at the very time when organs first flourished, such furnishings as a church might have had were practical but hardly comfortable. Heating was unknown. Since then a standard of comfort has gradually replaced this, and with it has come the ubiquitous use of sound-absorbent fabrics for seats, floors, and sometimes even walls. The trend has now gone so far that the willingness to sit on a well-designed wooden seat in a cool church is fast disappearing, even among those who gladly spend an afternoon sitting on hard bleachers at a sports event. Curious, isn't it that while it would rarely occur to anyone to place sound absorbing materials near an organ, it is thought desirable to surround with fabrics the congregational singer, whose musical contribution is so much more to be encouraged and prized. Are we not becoming a nation of ever more effete church-goers, confused in our values, because there is no one teaching us otherwise? Could it be that our forefathers might have appreciated certain spiritual qualities of life more than we? We would do well to reflect on the remark that there is by nature something harsh and bracing about liturgical acoustics, not unlike the Gospel.
There are, of course, churches in which excessive reverberation needs to be controlled. Too many organ committees have been led to crusade for reverberation as an end in itself. The issues are not that simple, for there are many other factors touched on here which contribute to the warmth, resonance, and clarity of a church's aural environment. In planning for an organ the advice of a qualified acoustical consultant can be invaluable.
While the subtle pitfalls of room acoustics can never be completely avoided, they can be greatly minimized by obtaining experienced opinion. Many acoustical consultants are competent architects in their own right, capable of designing superior halls. Their advice should be sought in the early stages of design and then followed, not ignored by architects and contractors as is often the case. One caveat is in order: to be successful the acoustician must appreciate the difference between liturgical acoustics in which a congregation participates in making music and concert/lecture hall acoustics, in which an audience is there only to listen. Thoughtful review of the consultant's experience with other churches should reveal sensitivity to this point. With good liturgical acoustics the organ's needs will almost certainly be met.
Fortunately, there is no conflict between acoustical requirements for singing and for organs. This is hardly surprising, since a fundamental element of the best organ tone is its vocal quality, especially in the principal stops. It is this singing of organs which evokes in the layman the urge to sing. No other instrument has this unique evocative quality. On the other hand, organ tone is not limited to the vocal. It is also instrumental in character, and at times even imitative of other instruments. It is this dual nature of organ sound, both vocal and instrumental, which makes it endearing and broad in its musical appeal.
Many argue that clarity of the spoken word cannot co-exist with reverberant acoustics. This is one place where technology has come to the aid of music, for with a carefully-designed sound system it is now possible to maintain a high degree of intelligibility even in rooms which are extremely reverberant. Here again the advice of a knowledgeable consultant should be sought.
Assuming that every effort has been made to provide good acoustics for the church, the question of placing the organ within the room then arises. The importance of placement cannot be overestimated. Occasional compromises may be considered where acoustics are exceptionally fine, but they are still compromises.
Like a preacher or choir, an organ should project its sound directly to the hearer, not around corners. No minister would think of preaching without facing the congregation. The strange notion popular early in this century, that organs belong in chambers beside the church, has been recognized for its error. Any obstruction such as an arch or rood screen which separates organ from congregation is suspect.
Ideally, organs should face the long axis of the building. Clarity is lost when the organ is made to speak sideways across the width of the church, for in order to be heard in the nave it will have to be made unnaturally loud nearby. This leaves two options, namely, placing the organ on the front or back wall of the church. Of these two a rear gallery is usually the preferable location, for it puts organ and choir near the ceiling in a place otherwise unused except for windows and tower walls. Because organs are architecturally imposing, it is difficult to locate them discreetly in front of the church. Where possible that end is better reserved for the sacraments and proclamation of the word.
Organs sound best when they are placed high in the church. Sound which comes from above enjoys advantages over sound produced on the level of the hearer. Its dispersion is more even in the space. The tone is not absorbed so quickly as it travels back through the congregation. Also its steep angle of incidence on side walls discourages confusing echoes. For these same reasons public address loudspeakers are placed high above the heads of crowds. Many wonderful organs have been placed just under a ceiling which provides immediate reflection of the tone downward. The sound gains presence and focus from this phenomenon which we call early reflection. Like a pulpit soundboard the ceiling keeps the sound energy from being dissipated overhead. This effect is so prominent that pipes nearest the ceiling will sound closer to the floor than pipes below them in the same organ. Without a reflector above it an organ takes on an ethereal quality which can be quite beautiful but is musically less precise.
The pipes of the organ need a shallow wooden case around them. The case is the first reflector for the tone, a miniature room in itself. Its job is not only to protect the pipes, but to restrain and blend their many sounds into music and direct it into the church.
These then are a few guidelines for effective placement of an organ in a proper acoustical environment. There will always be exceptions, and organbuilders will forever strive to overcome their acoustical problems for the sake of their art. It is still the responsibility of churches and architects to provide the best possible environment for this peculiar craft, so costly in time and money, and so rewarding in its musical power. A church can ill afford less, for it will live with the results of these decisions far into the future.
