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In the wind . . .

January 2, 2007
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The wind comes sweeping o’er the plain . . .

We watch our car’s odometer approach 100,000 miles. It seems like an important milestone, but we’re distracted by traffic, go into a different train of thought, and miss the great event. It reads 100,002.3 and we never felt a thing.

Ten years ago we were anticipating the start of a new millennium. As the year 2000 approached we were told that the language of computer programming did not allow for calendar years above 1999—that we should expect computers all over the world to crash at midnight on January 1. Enough people nervously withdrew money from ATMs that the banking system published concern about the supply of cash. We didn’t even know how we would say what year it was. What would we say, two-oh-oh-one, aught-one, the aughts, the Ohs? Some people planned to be in an airplane at the stroke of twelve, others assured us that the computer-driven air-traffic-control system would collapse at that moment.
And what do you suppose happened? Nothing. My computer kept working as did my alarm clock and microwave oven. I have not met a single person who has any trouble saying what year it is. Planes kept flying and landed safely and the ATM still spat out stacks of twenties. The clock struck twelve, the mouse ran down, hickory-dickory-dock.

We tend to mark our progress in big blocks. If the Baroque era ended in 1750, what did Händel (1685–1759) do for the last nine years of his life? The boundaries are muddy. We do this with the history of the pipe organ. The beginning of the 20th century brought electric action and orchestral playing. The second half of the 20th century was The Revival when some of us got excited about historic performance practices and tracker-action organs, and others felt upset and disenfranchised. A hundred years from now, what will our successors say about the beginning of the 21st century? What would we like them to say? How can we influence that? How do we assess the present state of the art? And most importantly, how do we assure its health and growth so that later generations will have something significant from our body of work to study and assess?

Eighty years ago, more than 2,000 new pipe organs were completed by American organbuilders each year. Now it’s more like 40 or 50. I don’t know how many digital instruments are installed each year now, but I suspect the number balances with the century-old total of pipe organs. We’ve noted and discussed at length the decline of the number of serious students of the organ, and we have watched in horror as venerable educational institutions close their organ departments.

The true test of the state of things is the response of the public. How many laypeople—those who are not professional organists or organbuilders—make it a point to attend organ recitals? I have sat in many a grand church listening to a great musician play a marvelous organ—sharing the thrall with only 30 or 40 other music lovers. At the height of his career, E. Power Biggs noted that twice as many Americans attended concerts of classical music than professional sporting events. Do you think that’s the case today?

All these things are related. While most pipe organs are unique, I suppose that thousands of churches may have identical digital instruments—an organ committee might opt for “no pickles,” but otherwise the choice is pretty limited. I know that many people think this is a good thing—McDonald’s and Starbucks would not be successful otherwise—but I can’t believe that such institutional sameness contributes to the growth of this or any art.

For the second month in a row I refer to the excellent article “Repertoire in American Organ Recitals 1995–2005” by Moo-Young Kim published in the October 2006 issue of The American Organist. Dr. Kim analyzed 249 recital programs totaling 1689 selections as published in TAO. Using statistics and pie-charts, he showed how limited in originality is our recital programming. Is this related to the disappointing attendance at so many organ recitals?

The performance of historic repertoire will always be central to the art of the pipe organ, and each serious player has ambitions about which pieces are next on the practice schedule. This is a good thing. But it’s the art of improvisation that distinguishes the organ. How thrilling for the first time concertgoer to hear the mighty instrument as the vehicle for the creation of new music, right here, right now. What a celebration of human genius! (I’m reminded of Gjon Mili’s time-lapse photograph of Picasso drawing a bull with a flashlight—a masterpiece of the moment—you can see it at .)

Everything’s up to date in Kansas City . . .

Ours is heralded as the age of communication. International news is instant, a CD or sweater ordered online today is in our hands tomorrow, and we have a fit if a Fed-Ex package is six hours late. We send what we think is an important e-mail and wonder why it hasn’t been answered four hours later. (Is it just possible that our correspondent wasn’t at home? What, no BlackBerry?) But if we limit our understanding of communication to these amazing technological advances, we will fail our art. You cannot communicate the art of the pipe organ by beaming between handhelds.

Here’s the good news. There may not now be many new pipe organs built each year, but most of them are glorious and unique works of art. And hundreds more projects are accomplished each year restoring older instruments to their full artistic potential. Some schools are closing organ departments, but others are revitalizing theirs. Young organists are still taught to base their playing on good scholarship, but as a foundation, not an end. After all, it is about the music. Playing the organ is not a parlor trick—it’s a thrilling vehicle for the expression of an artist and for an audience to experience and absorb.

There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow.

In what sometimes seems an atmosphere of gloom, I’ve always felt that the pipe organ has a significant future in our society, and my optimism is rewarded as I recently had the privilege to make association with what promises to become an important center of the study of the organ. The University of Oklahoma (OU) has a long tradition of excellence in organ teaching—that is where Mildred Andrews Boggess taught many of today’s finest organists during her 38-year tenure. Now a fresh wind is blowing in tornado country as John Schwandt has joined the faculty of the OU School of Music to lead an exciting new teaching program.

Brainchild of Dr. Schwandt and his long-time friend, theatre organ specialist Clark Wilson, the American Organ Institute has been founded to lift up and celebrate American contributions organbuilding and organ playing. The philosophy behind the institute is to unite the worlds of the classical and theatre pipe organ, advancing the art by emphasizing improvisation in all genres along with the performance of the classical repertoire. A fresh curriculum will include courses in arranging, computer notation, and multiple styles of composition—a return to the classic concept of the complete organist: one-third performance, one-third improvisation, one-third composition.

An integral part of the institute will be the establishment of a fully equipped and staffed pipe organ workshop on campus. This unique facility will be home to the restoration of an important instrument recently acquired by the university for the Paul F. Sharp Concert Hall at the School of Music and will allow students the opportunity for hands-on experiences with organbuilding, even to providing pipe organ maintenance services for the general area, an area not as yet saturated with experienced organbuilders. The next generation of organ students can be well-versed with knowledge of organ history and construction, and the next generation of organbuilders can be well-versed with knowledge of organ playing and composition.

There will be three degree tracks (Bachelor of Music, Master of Music, and Doctor of Musical Arts), each allowing flexible emphasis of applied studies to include classic and theatre organ playing as well as organbuilding. Significantly, the institute enjoys the enthusiastic support of University of Oklahoma President David Boren, Dean Eugene Enrico of the OU Weitzenhoffer Family College of Fine Arts, and Dr. Steven Curtis, director of the School of Music, who are working to build the foundation for this refreshing and innovative approach to the study of the organ.

The School of Music is housed in the Catlett Music Center on the north end of the campus, the entrance to which is a striking contemporary space of cathedral proportions. The Morris R. Pitman Recital Hall and the Paul F. Sharp Concert Hall both open off this grand space as does a corridor leading to the classrooms and teaching studios. This “lobby” is called the Grace B. Kerr Gothic Hall and is home to the Mildred Andrews Boggess Memorial Organ, C. B. Fisk’s Opus 111 (go to to see photos and specification). With three manuals and 45 ranks, it’s funny to think of this as a “lobby organ” but this is no ordinary lobby. The ceiling is very high with contemporary interpretations of gothic vaulting, the organ is placed in a high balcony at one end of the room, the reverberation period is 4.5 seconds, and both visual and aural effects are magnificent.

I’ve got a beautiful feeling . . .

Just a minute—that organ is already in place, and I referred to a “recently acquired organ” that will be installed in Sharp Hall. Ah, the other shoe drops. In the April 2005 and November 2006 issues of this column in The Diapason, I have written about M. P. Möller’s Opus 5819, the massive and singular instrument originally built for the Philadelphia Civic Center. Go to , scroll to the bottom and look for the two “specifications” links—you’ll get an eyeful. The University of Pennsylvania (Penn) became owner of this organ when they acquired the Philadelphia Civic Center with intention of using the site to build an important new research hospital as part of the University’s Health System. As the destruction of the 13,500-seat Art Deco hall was controversial, Penn preserved many artifacts from the building, including the organ. The Organ Clearing House was engaged to dismantle the organ, located in a 2500-square-foot, 25-foot-high chamber above the ceiling, 100 feet up.

The organ was stored next door in another large convention hall slated for demolition at a date that was suddenly and significantly accelerated by the needs of the hospital construction. This news was a shock—another demolition deadline—we were going to have to rescue the organ for a second time. In the November 2006 issue, I wrote wistfully about it sitting in storage, looking more like an industrial wasteland than a work of art. But—thanks be—I can say now that as I wrote I knew that a zephyr was over the horizon—a breath of amazing promise. John Schwandt had come over the bow looking for a significant concert organ around which to build the American Organ Institute. Oh boy—have we got the organ for you! (See photo: theatre console, classic console, automatic roll-player.)

It seemed too good to be true. Here’s a huge organ with two consoles, virtually the only large extant instrument expressly intended as both a classic concert organ and a theatre organ with “all the bells and whistles,” drums, cymbals, toys. And there’s a new venue for the teaching of organ playing of all styles.

Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry . . .

Meanwhile, the administrators at Penn were preparing to demolish their building, and engaged me in a complicated conversation about what to do with the organ. They were less than entranced with the idea of funding another moving project, but having gone to considerable—really considerable—expense to dismantle, pack, and store it, they were committed to its preservation. When Dr. Schwandt and OU came into view with the possibility of a new home for the organ where it would be properly restored and used as part of a significant educational program, there started a whirlwind of conversations between the two universities. We all have experience with large bureaucracies moving slowly, but picture this. In just four weeks, OU expressed interest in the organ, Penn agreed to make it a gift, and the myriad political and legal details were worked out. Two other important and usual hurdles were instantly checked off—funds were immediately available to move the organ, and first-class space was immediately available in which to store it. The Organ Clearing House lined up a fleet of five semi-trailers, and the 120,000-pound organ was moved to Oklahoma, two days ahead of Penn’s demolition schedule. Yikes! Go to to read an article about this stunning transaction.

While we were dismantling the organ a couple years ago, Brant Duddy (Philadelphia area organ technician who had tuned the Civic Center organ for many years) gave me a recording of the recital played on the Civic Center organ by Tom Hazleton for the 1992 convention of the American Theatre Organ Society. Along with several traditional barnburners (high on the list of favorites in Dr. Kim’s TAO article!) is Hazleton’s medley of tunes from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma. What a wonderful way to introduce a venerable organ to its new home. And a quiet aside: Once the organ was in storage, I was in touch with Mr. Hazleton to ask about his experience with it. He was enthusiastic about its preservation and promised to help find it a new home. I asked him for an interview thinking that would enhance a column someday, but before the scheduled date arrived I heard of his death.

Late one evening while the Organ Clearing House was in Norman delivering the organ, Dr. Schwandt played the Fisk organ for us, weaving a creative tapestry around Richard Rodgers’ place-appropriate theme. As the music reverberated in the darkness, I reflected on the magic of improvisation—how a mystery becomes reality, and how important that concept is to the history of organ music. Like Picasso’s bull it’s gone as soon as it’s over, perhaps to be recreated tomorrow but never to be repeated. Improvisation must be the best tool to convince the public that the pipe organ is not just a relic of an earlier age but a vital participant in today’s culture. A fresh vision, a fresh approach, and the rebirth of a renowned institution and a venerable instrument combine to bring new energy to the work of organists and organbuilders across the country.

If you think this is “just another big Möller organ,” take my word for it: There is no other organ like it. It’s simply spectacular—an American monument of artistry in concept and craftsmanship in execution. I hope you’ll join me in Norman when it’s first played there. It’s fun to imagine that future music historians will notice Opus 5819’s rebirth as a significant event. You young students of the organ, here’s the website of the Office of Admission at the OU School of Music: ''". You’ll be glad you looked.