We’re expecting
It’s happening. The new organ arrives next week. The old one just gave up. The first time it ciphered no one knew what it was, but later on it happened so often we got used to it. Our organist learned tricks about how to make them go away--the tricks worked most of the time, but sometimes we had to finish the service using the piano. She started bringing up the subject at music committee meetings. That led to the committee making a presentation at Annual Meeting--a perfect opportunity to form a new committee.
The organ committee went to work studying the old organ. They asked our organ tuner to describe the problem. The tuner had some ideas about how it could be made better--we could clean something, releather something else, add a mixture, replace a couple ranks of reeds, rebuild the console with solid-state switches along with a lot of fancy accessories. One committee member thought that would be like painting an old car--it would look fancy, make a better impression, but deep down it would be the same old clunker. Another committee member said, “That organ was played for my parents’ wedding, both their funerals, my wedding, and my daughter’s wedding. It’s part of our heritage. I’d hate to see it go.”
It took a year for them to make their first decision, and at the annual meeting they made a presentation recommending that we should replace our organ. Someone asked what it will cost. The chair of the committee stood up, he hesitated before he said something like, “more than you can imagine.” Bad answer. Did that ever start something! One suggestion was to establish a limit. Someone responded, “It doesn’t make sense to limit something before we have any idea what it could or should cost . . .” Many organ projects are doomed to failure when a budget is established too early.
Who do we think we are?
“It would be awful if the committee works another year and we vote it down because it’s too much money. . . How can we justify spending that much on ourselves when there is so much need in the world--in our own town? There’s the Bishop’s annual fund, tsunami relief, the soup kitchen. Isn’t there a parable about sharing? . . . St. What’s His Name just bought an electronic (funny how the adjective becomes the noun). My friend told me it hardly cost anything and it sounds great. . . Pipe organs are so, like, yesterday. . . This would be a wonderful way to revitalize our worship, and to offer something special to our community. . . What are we running here, a concert hall? . . . Seems to me we’d just be buying an expensive toy for the organist. Maybe we should find an organist who’s happy with what we have. . . They don’t use the organ at the ballpark anymore, I think recorded music would be just fine--if we bought a fancy sound system we’d spend a lot less, and we’d get a PA system at the same time--we’d kill two Byrds [sic] with one stone.”
All those questions lead to one: Who do we think we are? Are we a parish willing to commit to a bold and exciting new path? Are we inclined to make a quick and easy decision, unwilling to challenge ourselves? Or do we take the easiest path and do nothing?
How many church committee members does it take to change a light bulb?
Change? Change? That light bulb doesn’t need to be changed. My grandmother paid for that light bulb.
They voted to ask the committee to study the options and to make a report at a special meeting in six months. It took some doing, but in the end they agreed not to limit options that early in the game. They authorized hiring a consultant to give professional advice. And the committee said they were willing to keep working.
At first, the committee was overwhelmed. There were so many different types of organs to consider. Most of them had never imagined the concept of comparing organs. An organ is an organ, right? What’s to compare? They realized that choosing an organbuilder could determine what kind of music would sound best in our church. Is it possible to build an eclectic organ--an organ that sounds great playing any style of music? They realized that choosing an organbuilder could determine what the interior of the church would look like. How do we relate the design of a new organ to the architecture of our church?
They made a list of questions and statements to use when they interviewed organbuilders. They made a list of organbuilders, inviting them to make proposals. They traveled to see and hear examples of their work and to visit workshops. They talked with church members and organists around the country asking opinions. Did you have a good experience working with them? Did they build an organ that serves your church well? Are visiting organists comfortable playing it?
One of the companies on their list had renovated several organs but had never actually built a new organ. The committee was impressed by the builder’s philosophy. He had a well-equipped workshop and a congenial crew. His previous clients all said he was great to work with; they were happy with the work he had done. Would he be capable of creating a fine instrument for us? Every great artist--painter, sculptor, composer, organbuilder--created Opus 1! Would our church and the art of organbuilding benefit if we supported a young builder?
Six months passed and we had that next parish meeting. The committee made a presentation. They showed photos of organs--three examples from each company they were talking with. They told us about the various proposals they had received. They described the range of sizes (number of stops) and the range of prices. They described their process--they had visited three workshops and nine organs. They related the interview experiences. They told us their conclusions about an appropriate size and price range for a new organ. This meeting was easier because there were fewer mysteries--fewer unknowns. We voted to support their conclusions. A parishioner suggested now that we know an appropriate price range we should establish a limit we could be comfortable with. Fair enough. It’s hard to start a fund drive without knowing a goal!
The committee promised to stay in touch. They would write articles for the newsletter to keep the congregation updated. They would be available to hear people’s questions and concerns and to report those back to the committee.
After that meeting the committee had confidence. They knew they had the support of the congregation--their friends and neighbors who would be asked to pay for an organ. They had learned a lot about comparing organs. They had learned to trust their own ears--to listen to an instrument and talk about their reactions. They knew that an organ isn’t necessarily an organ. For many people, simply making an opportunity to hear three or four different organs in one day is enough to learn to describe differences. Organs have distinct personalities, quirks, comfort levels. You can even learn to tell by listening if an organ is not comfortable playing a certain piece of music.
The committee told us later that there was a magic moment in an interview with one of the builders. He was showing the committee a drawing of a proposed organ explaining how it would fit our needs, and they could feel that he was pushing them. He wanted to put the organ in a different location--the committee had not even thought of that as a possibility. They realized that they were talking with an artist with a vision, an artist who was confident that his vision was right. The design was different from everyone’s preconceived ideas of what kind of organ we would buy. At that moment the committee understood the process at a new level--you develop confidence in the work of an organbuilder and trust that his philosophy will promise you an exciting instrument. No organ committee can design an organ. An educated organ committee places faith in the artistic vision and technical ability of an organbuilder and trusts in a thrilling result.
There was another parish meeting--the last one. The members of the organ committee were excited. They had done a lot of work and given a lot of their time. Imagine, taking time from a busy life to travel to look at pipe organs! You could just tell that they knew they had a good decision. A couple of days later the chair of the Board of Trustees signed a contract with the organbuilder.
Our organbuilder (has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?) gave us a list of conditions. We were to rebuild the walls around where the organ would go so they would reflect sound and would not rattle or buzz when the organ was played. We were to provide electrical hookups according to specifications. We were to rebuild the floor under the organ so it was level and supported weight in the right places. We were to remove the carpet in the aisle. Doesn’t it make sense to consider the acoustics when you consider a new organ? The organ isn’t the only thing to benefit from improved acoustics. Once we were doing that, why shouldn’t we have the floor sanded and refinished? Why shouldn’t we have the walls painted? Wouldn’t it be great if we could install the new organ in a refurbished room? After all, you’d hate to raise dust around a new organ a few years later. Organs hate dust!
We did all that. Our organbuilder sent us photos of the progress, and we set up slide shows in the narthex after worship. When the organ was nearly finished we were invited to an open house. What a great day. There were dozens of people from our church and many of the builder’s friends and colleagues. Photos of our church building were on display along with the drawings and designs. Different people played on our organ, we sang hymns and tried to imagine what it would be like at home.
The organ arrives next week.
We can hardly wait. Everything’s in place. The church looks terrific--the floor is gleaming, there’s new lighting in the chancel. When you clap your hands inside there’s a new ring to it. We had to go to city hall to get parking permits for the truck that would bring the organ. That was a fun clue into what an event this is. You almost never see trucks that size in our neighborhood.
Last Sunday there was lots of talk about anticipation. The organ committee is planning lunch for all of us after church next Sunday. The organ will arrive after lunch.
Join me next month as the truck arrives, is unloaded, and the workers start to install the organ.
