But that’s what I’m supposed to do

I once overheard a nice lady praising Rob Landes on his ability to play any tune in any key on the spot. He replied, “Thank you! But that’s what I’m supposed to do.” And he was right. Jazz musicians need to be able to do anything. Church musicians need to be able to do almost anything. It’s what we do.

I suppose I was a bit of a wunderkind. I was doing some things in music that no one my age in that town was doing. Now that I’m old(er), I’m doing much the same things for pay, only now it’s what I’m supposed to do, rather than something a normal kid shouldn’t want to or be able to do. Although I enjoy the praise today, I do hope that I have improved as a professional and no longer play like the wunderkind – nothing is worse than an older person still capitalizing on their child star status.

My former classmates, bless their hearts, seem to be able to talk only about their children, how much trouble they are, how much time and energy they take, how dirty their diapers are, and how being a taxi service for them is a pain. But that’s what parents are supposed to do – that’s how raising kids is supposed to be.

I look back from time to time at my previous Blog and News posts, and I see that about all I can talk about is how busy I am. But I also see that I’m always quick to add that I like it that way and I want it that way. Performing, teaching, planning, mentoring: it’s what I’m supposed to do. I chose it.

Now, I have to get back to work. Quit reading this and go do what you’re supposed to do. See you next week.

Making LIVE PERFORMANCES

Music City Mixture is my new recording. Live Performances is my previous recording. One does not set out to “make” a recording of previous live performances. One just notices that one has some tracks from several performances that sound good, and hey, why don’t we compile all that on a CD and order some graphics and keep it inexpensive and maybe hand it out for free. And that’s what one did. That little recording has gotten a good bit of mileage. It makes a great gift and an easy promotional handout.

You’ll find program notes for the individual tracks on the Program Notes tab of this site. Here are some more tidbits:

Most of these tracks were taken from my faculty recitals at Appalachian State University. When I learn a new piece, I try to trot it out on that stage before taking it on the road. The home stage is a comfortable laboratory. It represents the end of preparation and the beginning of rewarding repetition out on the road. I try to play "at home" each semester.

The Mulet Carillon is a favorite opener of mine. Adding the Zimbelstern was my idea, but there are far too many of those in this country that sound like a blind handbell choir missing a ringer.

The Brahms Chorales represent one of the most basic underlying philosophies behind my program notes: tell the listener what they need to listen for; tell them what they need to know to “get” the piece. If anyone knows the name Johannes Brahms, then they have all the information they need to understand these pieces when they are told that these were probably the very last notes Brahms wrote. If the performer keeps that in mind, these pieces never go stale.

The G major Concerto is a favorite of mine. It is entirely too cute for its own good.

I remember hearing Paul Meier play the snot out of the Mendelssohn f minor Sonata during my grad days at Rice. The piece finally made sense, and knowing Paul’s teacher so well, I then knew how to make the piece make sense myself. I finally got around to learning it about ten years later.

Franck appears to be my favorite composer for a while. I’m learning the complete works, recital by recital, about two pieces per year. The Prelude, Fugue, and Variation is a perennial favorite, and its opportunities for musical expression are limitless.

Finlandia is just perfect; not the way I play it, but the way Sibelius wrote it. Transcriptions pose the balancing act between making the organ sound like the original instrumentation and letting the piece translate however it likes to the organ. Myself, I hear the orchestra and play accordingly. I do the same thing when accompanying; I feel that the original needs to be kept in mind while performing. After all, Sibelius knew what an organ was – he could have written Finlandia for the organ if he liked. I play the fanfares differently now, forsaking the transcription and playing the original rhythm now.

The c minor trio Sonata is one of the nastier ones for difficulty, especially the third movement. I love this piece, and I love how Bach can make one of the quintessential “dark” minor keys sound like a birthday party.

The sixth Howells Psalm Prelude is one long fanfare. Even the quiet parts have a breathless anticipation about them. It has been a while since I played it or heard it, and it came up on my playlist in the car just the other day. I hardly recognized it, but I really like the writing – Howells keeps using the same harmonies in all his works, but they always have something new to say. It’s a very unique style that will hopefully be preserved.

Dan Gawthrop’s Floral Preludes have made a splash. And Lord knows I have done my part to keep them going! I thrill to the sound of an audience laughing during an organ recital.

The Jongen Toccata was to have been used on an all-French recording made at Rice. But it didn’t happen. However, this track is footage from those recording sessions. Quite a piece. And quite an organ for it.

Feeding time at the organist zoo

We human beings love to eat. Look at how we turn eating into a social event, not just a survival instinct. We gather at major holidays to feast. (Even our major church liturgies are called “feasts.”) We eat cake at birthdays. Church members provide a meal to the family of the deceased after the funeral. And the ultimate eating for Christians is communion. It’s a celebratory meal, taken quite directly from Jewish custom. And Christians have an easy out: they eat in church because Jesus TOLD them to!

And I’m no different. I learned from church how to eat as a celebration, not just as something to quiet down a grumbling stomach. Ever since childhood, I can remember a meal being added on to a gathering. We would go eat Sunday lunch at Redman’s Cafe (oh my, the mashed potatoes and gravy). And we would go eat Sunday supper at the Hungry Bull family steakhouse after Sunday evening church (Baptists do evening church, you know). And we would make our reservations for Wednesday evening supper at the church. The church’s Homecoming celebration always included a huge potluck. Sunday School classes got together over potluck or a restaurant.

I carried the torch into grad school. Choir members and I would eat after Thursday rehearsal and Sunday church. We would gather every year over Mexican food for the boss’s birthday (we still do, actually, lo these 19 years after his death!).

I could go on and on. Couldn’t you?

Today, my regimen still includes lots of social eating. After Monday evening Appalachian Chorale rehearsals, a few of us go to Chili’s for what one student now calls “dinner with the family.” And after EVERY performance where I or any of my students is on stage, we go eat. It’s now a habit, one that no one dares think about changing.

A few weeks ago, after my recital at Bethel Lutheran in Rochester, Minn., it was off to Beetles bar & grill. Yesterday, after my recital at Lenoir-Rhyne University, it was off to da Vinci’s in Hickory. Tonight, after Appalachian Chorale rehearsal, it will be to Chili’s for “family dinner.” And so it goes.

You’re probably hungry now. Call me, and we’ll go eat!

Making Music City Mixture: An unforeseen epilogue

Part seven of this series was to have been the end of it. But the story has more to say:

Picture it: May 2012. Music City Mixture is ready for me to peddle at the organists’ convention. Promotional information is prepared. Free copies of my previous recording Live Performances are ordered and on their way to be inserted into convention tote bags. An announcement card for the new recording is printed up with the special convention price, also to be inserted into convention tote bags. And just for good measure, I have had fresh copies of my promotional brochure printed, also to be inserted into convention tote bags. There is a “party” with friends where we stuff promo CDs, announcement cards, and Joby brochures into two thousand little plastic bags. I ship those little guys off to the convention city, where they will be dropped into convention tote bags for all attendees. What a publicity coup! Imagine the mileage we’ll get out of this! Imagine people arriving at the convention, finding those materials in their tote bag, seeking me out, and purchasing a copy of the new CD! And the national “release party” for Music City Mixture is an enormous success! Master of the universe in the house!

Now picture what really happened: When I arrived for the convention, I discovered that all those promotional materials had not been dropped into the tote bags, after all. They were still sitting in the receiving warehouse, where they did not see the light of day again until convention day two.

So now imagine the sudden uselessness of all that publicity. Imagine all the money and time invested. Imagine two thousand giveaway previous CDs sitting forgotten in a warehouse, and one thousand brand new CDs in my car, now with no buyers who know about it.

My first order of business to salvage this was to retrieve all those publicity materials, which I did. After that, I was in no mood to stay and enjoy the convention, and so I took my bitterness elsewhere. I hadn’t intended to tell this tale publicly, but the passage of time has brought to light some lessons learned and new things to try that are worth airing:

1. The two thousand giveaway CDs, Live Performances, intended for convention tote bags, are still available for giveaway. I’ll be hauling them to recital engagements, family reunions, workshops, doctors’ offices, etc., and giving them to any interested people.

2. I am preparing a mass email to all convention attendees, to announce Music City Mixture. (The special convention price no longer applies.)

3. Meanwhile, I have been plunged into uncharted territory, such as questioning for the very first time the usefulness of the national organization to my career, reconsidering my eagerness to accept service opportunities in it, reconsidering my love of conventions over which I was so enthusiastic in the first post of this series, considering attending other organizations’ conventions, and withholding my trust in others for longer initial periods from now on.

4. HOWEVER: This incident put my quota for grudges over the limit! Were I to add this grudge to all my existing ones, I would start to have trouble keeping up and remembering who’s who. And so one day I found a strange calm in letting all those grudges go, in an instant. You know, folks, when all this is over, the cockroaches will be the only ones left, and I can learn to get over a few first-world problems along the way. I have felt better since arriving at that place of peace. I even accepted a Facebook friend request that I had left untouched for months, from someone who treated me most unprofessionally and uncharitably several years ago. Although I will not mistake a grudge for unfinished business, and although I will always be astounded by how easily Music City Mixture’s initial publicity was derailed, I can let go of the little stuff better. My doctor should be pleased with my blood pressure numbers from now on.

And NOW this series really is ended. Many millions of thanks to Bradley Gawthrop for slapping the software around to accommodate all these photos and sound files. Splendid work.

Making Music City Mixture : Part VII

Part 7 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

Wightman Chapel, Scarritt-Bennett Center

Scarritt-Bennett homepage
Organ photos
Organ specifications
Organ builder

I love neo-Gothic college campuses, and Scarritt-Bennett used to be a college. I’m glad the buildings are still being lovingly used, even if no longer for college education. The chapel remains busy for weddings (Jennie reported more than 70 one year), and the organ remains in decent shape, despite having some years on it and not a lot of budget to keep it young.

While Jennie was enthusiastic about my recording there, she warned me as gently as she could that the Casavant might not sound very good these days. When I had played it for a few minutes on Monday, I concurred. But I played some more and discovered that most of the problems lie in the reeds (dirty and old) and in the upper work (Orgelbewegung), which I could easily avoid. When I chose to stay primarily at 4-foot and below, the organ sprang to life. The Buxtehude Praeludium took on a fresh assertiveness, and the Sweelinck Variants, recorded there purely on a lark, very nearly replaced the take at St. Andrew’s! You can hear the Wightman take here:

Finally, just for fun, here are some clips of videos captured during practice times:

I’m practicing the Bobo Appalachian Prelude at First Presbyterian, d’Aquin Noëls at Covenant Presbyterian, and the Gigout Scherzo (not recorded) at Covenant Presbyterian.

* * *

I am glad to have extracted and captured some of Nashville’s beauty on this recording and in these supplemental materials. I hope all these organs have been given a stronger voice for themselves and a pleasant hearing for you on Music City Mixture.

Making Music City Mixture : Part VI

Part 6 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

First Lutheran Church

Church: http://First-Lutheran-Nashville.org/
Organ photos: http://www.PhotographyByStein.com/
Organ specifications: http://www.NashvilleAGO.org/AreaOrgans/Specs/FirstLutheranChpl.htm

I visited First Lutheran on Monday to practice. Director of Music Mark Beall was a most gracious host, and he enjoyed chatting with Rich about recording equipment when we came back to record on Wednesday.

The Wolff in the chapel is one of those experiences every organist ought to have. Depending on your perspective, you could imagine yourself somewhere in Europe, where the stairs to the organ are winding and tiny, and the loft is tight. Or you could imagine yourself, as I did, at the charming 1865 all-cedar Wandke organ in the Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Round Top, Texas. Here is a photo of me at the real thing in Nashville:

I knew immediately that the Bach A Major Prelude & Fugue would be lovely here, as would the Froberger Canzona. The CD did not have enough room for the Froberger, and so it is here:

Download

Making Music City Mixture : Part V

Part 5 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

Covenant Presbyterian Church

Church: http://www.CovenantPres.com/
Photos: http://www.photographybystein.com/
Organ diagram: PDF
Organ specifications: PDF
Organ specifications: http://www.nashvilleago.org/
Organ builder: http://www.CBFisk.com/

Paul Magyar, now former Director of Music at Covenant, probably had to pull a few strings to get me in for this recording. The congregation is reluctant for the sanctuary to be used for anything other than Sunday worship. Whatever you did, Paul, thank you so very much. (I suspect Paul had help from a former Covenant organist by the name of Rich Mays.)

This church is a phenomenon. Not many modern congregations seek to go all-out with traditional, neo-Gothic architecture for brand-new buildings these days, but this one got it right. The sanctuary, only a few years old, looks like it has been sitting perched high on its hill for many decades. Stonework, woodwork, slate floors, vaulted ceilings, stained glass, magnificent organ casework – it’s all there.

At roughly five miles tall, the organ case is the perfect size.

It is huge, as are the acoustics of the room. That can be tricky to negotiate, but I had to ignore the acoustics, because otherwise I might still be sitting there enjoying it all. The mikes were going to be in the chancel and not out in the room, and so I just had to put on a certain pair of “blinders” and play to the mikes. Here are some photos from practice sessions:

 

The organ is incomplete. Big organbuilding projects tend to leave some stops prepared for. I am crossing my fingers that the missing stops really will be installed at some point. Meanwhile, perhaps Covenant organist Thomas Russell shares my frustration at not having a tierce or a clairon on the Great, a voix humaine or clairon on the Swell, or a quintaton, diapason, salicional, or cor anglais 16 on the Positif. But the organ is still a triumph, and the pieces assigned to it come off thrillingly.

At 8:30 Tuesday morning, Rich and I sat down at Covenant and hit the first notes of the project. First up was the Vierne Clair de lune. It was the most successful take of the week, being captured in a single take with a single patch for a pedal splat. If only the rest of them could go as well. From there to the Vierne Toccata. Two full runs and a couple little patches. So far, so good. The d’Aquin Noël snarls away, just like we want. But we ran out of room on the CD, and so the d’Aquin is here:

Download

The Harris Flourish for an Occasion recorded quite well with only a repeated patch or two. It begins the CD with a bang.

Making Music City Mixture : Part IV

Part 4 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

Second Presbyterian Church

Church: http://www.SecondPresbyterian.net/
Organ specifications: http://www.nashvilleago.org/AreaOrgans/Specs/SecondPres.htm
Organ builder: http://www.Juget-Sinclair.com

Sunday afternoon, after finishing practicing at First Presbyterian, it was off to uncharted waters at Second Presbyterian. The church is in a newish building that imparts a bit of a beach house look inside, with bamboo flooring, pastel walls, and indirect lighting. It all has a “cooling” effect on the observer. Here are some photos from the church website:

The Juget-Sinclair is buried treasure. Its large two-manual specification is an unending source of inspiration, and piece after piece kept presenting itself for successful inclusion. The organ played everything beautifully. With the near-instantaneous addition of this fine organ to the project, many plans had to be made – and fast. What to choose? What to move from another organ to this one? The recording bears out the final decisions. Here are some photos from practice sessions:

Although we spoke on the phone, I didn’t get to meet Director of Music David Bridges, but church Administrator Sarah White was most helpful and gracious. This church wins the prize for last-minute hospitality, and Music City Mixture is better for it.

We recorded at Second Presbyterian on Tuesday, late in the day. Although I’m confessing now to being tired by then that day, I hope the Bach E Major Toccata doesn’t give it away too much! The action of the Juget-Sinclair is comfortable, if a bit feather light. The suspended action is sensitive, and for a fellow who plays on an electro-pneumatic organ most of the time, it was all too easy to graze wrong notes. Which I did. In abundance. We worked a good bit to clean up some spots in the Bach E Major. We also worked on the Bach Gigue Fugue, for which the pedal always seemed to be behind, even though the pedal action is firm and shallow. Might have been the pedal reed, some delay on whose speech you might be able to hear in the Bach E Major. The CD did not have room for the Gigue Fugue, but it is here: 

 Download

The first two of the Gawthrop Floral Preludes recorded relatively quickly. But we reached an impasse on the third one. The quick-moving chords of that movement present many opportunities for fingers to hit cracks and graze wrong notes. Which I did. In abundance. It reached the point where I called Dan Gawthrop and apologized for the possibility of having only two of the pieces represented. But the next day during First Presbyterian’s recording sessions, the idea came to record the third one there, on a more resistant action. Worked beautifully. Problem solved. Called Dan back with the good news.

H. Max Smith (1931-2012)

This morning, July 14, 2012, my undergraduate organ professor was given one of the finest liturgical send-offs I have ever seen. It was a 90-minute service at St. Mary of the Hills, Blowing Rock, NC, loaded with wonderful music and attended by many wonderful friends and colleagues. It was my profound honor to have been asked to deliver the eulogy, reproduced here:

Dr. Smith to many. Uncle Max to many. Daddy Max to me and a few others. And just plain Max everywhere else. The very sound of that name -- MAX -- brings wonderful memories to many minds. And as I’ve travelled the country, I’ve marveled at all the people who knew and admired him over the years. Eyes light up everywhere when anyone mentions him and it is my honor and privilege to have been asked to share a few of my thoughts with you today.

Remember Max’s singing? Enough said there.

Remember what Max wore to class? It was always a three-piece suit, even if he were wearing hiking boots in winter. And he wore that suit even while grading papers at home at the end of the day. However, if he had lessons and no classes, he wore a guayabera to teach.

Remember those long brown cigarettes he used to smoke? Remember the days of smoking inside university buildings?

Max did a lot of good in the world. His house was a safe house for people dealing with addictive friends, troubled families, identity crises, or Mama. His office was a safe house for anyone in need of moral support or research assistance. And his heart was a safe house. Max respected boundaries of people in pain, and he respected the authority of someone a person in pain should really have been talking to. He knew where the boundaries were for saving face, and he was unimpeachable.

You didn’t have to be a student for Max to reach out to you, but students received priority. Max spent a lot of time promoting students in their budding careers, including me. He must have lost a lot of music over the years, forgetting whom he had lent it to. He gave lots of scores, books, and money to the music library over the years, for students to use. And he generously disseminated many of his scores and books to former students in retirement, some of which I am the grateful recipient. He consulted on about 100 pipe organs in the region, including virtually all the pipe organs in Watauga County. While perhaps his final legacy will be the gamelan just now being delivered to the School of Music, his greatest legacy will be Pablo. Everyone was enriched by Max’s presence among us.

I’ve heard some of the horror stories about his days as chair of the music department. Max was a peaceful man, but he was forthright in waging war as a necessary part of life. He did all that so calmly. It was all in stride and usually creative. A former student once regaled a group of us about a dedicatory recital Max played. Max had to hand-register everything because the combination system wasn’t working. On a brand new organ! Max was furious, and he made a show of changing registrations by hand, stopping the music, making the changes stop by stop with sharp gestures, and carrying on in the music. Then at the reception, he greeted everyone with, “Thanks so much for coming. I’m sorry the combination system wasn’t working.” “Thanks so much for coming. I’m sorry the combination system wasn’t working.” “Thanks so much for coming. I’m sorry the combination system wasn’t working.” All this, of course, in the presence of the organ builder.

I have my day job because of Max getting in someone’s face. When a one-year vacancy opened up at ASU in 2004, then-Dean Harbinson visited with Max to discuss a recommendation for a replacement. Max told me later, “I waggled my finger in Bill’s face and told him he was going to call Joby Bell!”

There are plenty more stories among us, many of which shouldn’t be told in this room.

Max’s colleagues will agree what a colleague he was. The Mountain House will agree what a good customer he was. The housing and car sales markets will miss his business. The community will agree what an interesting and affable fellow he was. But we students came away the most enriched of all. Every time I introduce a student to a colleague at a convention, I think of Max doing the same for me. Every time I put on a tie to go teach, I think of Max doing the same. Every time I hear of a student getting excited about the organ or a new research topic, I think of Max’s encouragement. Every time I welcome a stranger to spend some time playing an organ they haven’t played, I think of Max. Every time I say, “Thank you,” to someone, rather than roll my eyes, I think of Max’s limitless diplomacy.

In 2000 ASU developed a program called “Open Door,” which is a simple, visible indication on a faculty member’s office door that that faculty member’s office is a safe house, no matter who you are or how you’re made. The program is merely a campus-wide representation of the support Max provided for years on his own. May we all learn to be as open. May we all celebrate Max’s humor, his joy for life, his ways of honoring diversity. May we all hone our ability to discern, as he did, what is important. And what is not.

Making Music City Mixture : Part III

Part 3 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

First Presbyterian Church

Church: http://www.FPCNashville.org/
Organ specifications: http://www.nashvilleago.org/AreaOrgans/Specs/FPCNashville.htm
Organ builder: http://www.Beckerath.com/

After practicing at St. Andrew’s on Sunday, it was off to First Presbyterian to register the Bobo Appalachian Prelude, the Rheinberger Sonata, and the Gawthrop Three Floral Preludes. I also roughed in the registrations for a few other pieces, in case any other organ proved to be un-recordable (none did). Here are some photos from practice sessions:

The First Presbyterian campus is a marvel of traditional Georgian architecture, handsomely situated on top of a huge, rolling hill. Rhonda Swanson, organist, extended the finest hospitality to me and was a complete delight to work with. She clearly loves the Beckerath organ and the congregation she serves and was very helpful with registrational and tuning issues. She also introduced me to the veritable gold mine of organ photos on Ken Stein’s website. Ken is a member of the Nashville AGO chapter, and he freely posts his photos for all to enjoy. You’ll find links throughout this blog series to many pages of his website. A must-see.

Also at First Presbyterian is a Casavant positif organ. The Froberger Canzona would have been perfect on that one, but alas, low A on the 8-foot was dead. Too bad – that would have been tasty icing on the recording’s cake. (The Froberger found its champion in the chapel at First Lutheran.)

The Beckerath is both a nightmare and pure joy. I have never encountered an organ that “draws” as much as this one does. Physics of sound for two pipes of the same pitch being installed very close to each other dictate that they might “draw” each other into tune – or out of it. So you can’t use principals and flutes of the same pitch from the same division together on this organ. The joy is that this organ is so richly voiced that you don’t need all those wind-robbing flutes in large ensembles – the organ fills the room beautifully with its pure principal choruses. Beckerath and similar builders know that; the drawing was probably just an added bonus toward ensuring success!

Another mild nightmare at First Presbyterian is in the piston layout. There are multiple memory levels but only six general pistons. The thumb pistons are spread quite far apart from each other, say, a couple inches or more. The general toe studs are located a bit too far to the left and are jumbled up rather than in the straight lines of the thumbs. And one of them didn’t work reliably – so that meant being able to trust only five toe generals. But the tonal finishing of this organ more than makes up for its somewhat eccentric console layout.

Another joy of the Beckerath is in how it lovingly envelops you in its arms. Literally. You sit among the divisions of the organ as a part of them. Above you is Great. In front of you is Swell. Behind you is Positif. To your right is Pedal. And to your left is the church choir.

You are truly wrapped up in music at this organ!

This organ had the steepest learning curve for registration – what sounds right at the console is probably not right in the room. Rich and I spent all day Thursday recording there. We had the Rheinberger Fantasia-Sonata, the Bobo Appalachian Prelude, and the third of the Gawthrop Three Floral Preludes to record. (I had prepared all three Gawthrop Preludes here and at Second Presbyterian. I preferred Second, but the third Prelude didn’t work there due to pilot error, which I will explain later.) We spent a good deal of time figuring out the “drawing” issues of the Beckerath and re-registering accordingly. As my “ears” out in the room, Rich was also able to inform me that this or that balance may sound great at the console but is overblown in the mikes. We also spent a good deal of time taking and re-taking some difficult notes in the Gawthrop that took advantage of my fatigue and decided to go AWOL.

I feel the final results on this organ are stunning. This organ takes its rightful place among the stars of the show. The Rheinberger, one of my favorite pieces, gets a loving but commanding rendition. And the third of the Gawthrop Floral Preludes is just good fun, as it should be. The various solo colors made the Bobo come alive, but alas, the CD did not have room for it. That was perhaps the most painful cut I had to make. Fortunately, it is here as a free bonus:

Download

While I celebrate the beauty of all the instruments I worked on, this one has a special place for being so elegant in its versatility.