Why train organists?

Situation: The organ is a beloved avocation for a great many players and a full-time profession for others. Both of those groups do many of the same jobs: service playing, recital presentation, wedding music, collaboration with singers and consorts, even teaching. So why bother to train organists when the untrained make the money, too (sometimes more than the fully trained)?

Situation: Perhaps the organ is the most readily lucrative instrument of all. Pre-teens (and younger) often play for their church. Thousands of churches worldwide are in desperate need of someone (sometimes anyone) who can play for services. Many people are pressed into service with trepidation; yet before long, weddings and soloists begin mounting up, and soon the amateur organist is working professionally. So why bother to train organists if it is a self-building enterprise?

Situation: In many cases, one’s abilities at the organ are self-taught and self-apparent and require only small amounts of focus at a time to improve. So why bother to train organists?

Situation: The organ is used most of the time as a solo or single collaborative instrument. An organist’s performance life is often a solitary one. So why bother to train organists?

Solution: As it turns out, there is room for all. The organ and its various organizations support players across the entire spectrum, from the most amateur admirer to the most talented recitalist. Conventions of the American Guild of Organists, the Organ Historical Society, and the American Theater Organ Society are regularly attended by all kinds. (Yes, we get all kinds. But in the good way. Okay, we get them in the other ways, too.)

Solution: The organ is both avocation and art. Those who have not had formal training can still enjoy meaningful careers in other spheres and play the organ according to their abilities and semi-professional requirements. Those who wish to pursue it as a career or a high art form know who they are and ought to be encouraged to do so. I am fortunate to have been able to do both, the fact of which becomes the springboard into my teaching philosophies and goals. Twenty-one years after graduating from college, I still marvel that I am able to get paid for pursuing what I love.

Many students arrive in college and even graduate school with little more than their love for the organ. Only a few are fortunate to have taken the time to hone their abilities, rather than merely amass a repertoire list. The thrill of the organ’s sonic power and ease of tone production often overcome the sense of duty to improve technique. Put another way, playing loud and playing a lot tend to overshadow playing well. My number one priority is to teach students how to practice. Teaching them “how to fish” seems to me a greater service than merely letting them regularly open up the piece of their choice and start plowing indiscriminately. Plowing is fun but is not for public consumption.

I love seeing students uncover their abilities and their horizons simply from observing more closely their technique of organ playing. To do so allows them to see – and more importantly, hear – the difference between good playing and artistic playing. From there, they are better equipped to learn the next piece, and their love for the instrument -- and for recruiting -- grows.