Making Music City Mixture : Part II

Part 2 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

St. Andrew’s Anglican Parish

Church: http://StAndrewsNashville.org/
Organ photos: http://www.PhotographyByStein.com/nashvilleorgans/standrews/standrewsmain.htm
Organ specification

We hit the road to Nashville on Saturday, October 8, 2011. Sunday and Monday, October 9-10, were practice days, and we recorded Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, October 11-13.

First stop on Sunday was St. Andrew’s to practice. Church was over around 11:30, which would give me plenty of time to make friends with the Visser-Rowland, register the Sweelinck Variants and then get over to First Presbyterian at the end of its service, to practice and be done for the day. Or so I thought.

The rapturous smell of incense hung in the air at St. Andrew’s, and I knew that Carl Smith was right where he wanted to be in that congregation. As is the case for many liturgically-minded congregations these days, attendance and contributions are down, but the church is bravely soldiering on in its time-honored traditions.

Carl asked if I was planning to record on the Juget-Sinclair at Second Presbyterian. I had not heard of that church at all, but I am familiar with Juget-Sinclair and knew that I had to pursue this one! So I immediately got on the phone with David Bridges at Second Presbyterian. He was most accommodating and was able to secure Session approval for me to record there. I visited the church later that same afternoon, after practicing at First Presbyterian. So Sunday got longer! But the project got more interesting, a deserving organ got included, and we all have Carl Smith to thank for it. I also mused on how careful I had been to contact venues months in advance to make this recording, and yet I had overlooked a treasure of an organ but was able to add it with less than a day’s notice. How these things go.

Practicing at St. Andrew’s was a bit like going back to my days in Houston. Visser-Rowland’s shop (later Visser & Associates) is in Houston, and I spent a lot of time there during my graduate school years. I saw many an organ on the shop floor much like the one at St. Andrew’s, and I learned a great deal about organ building from Pieter Visser, who always warmly welcomed me to the shop. I remember during the 1995 AGO regional convention in Nashville going over to St. Andrew’s to seek out Pieter’s only instrument in town, to enjoy a bit of Houston in Nashville. I am glad this organ could be included on this recording.

Wednesday evening’s recording session at St. Andrew’s was quick. The organ does its job without protest. You’ll hear in the Sweelinck Variants on “Est-ce Mars” on the recording how well this organ “speaks Dutch.” After all, its builder is Dutch.

Making Music City Mixture : Planning

Part 2 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

Planning

I have self-recorded for many years – things like practice sessions and run-throughs to catch those things one may not hear in the heat of battle. Recording like that is always instructive, minimally time-intensive – and intimidating. I always dread listening to my own playing as an audience member; it makes me more nervous than walking out to play a recital for organists. But after all those years, plus making three previous recordings (two of which were not released) the exercise of listening to a professional recording opened up a new idea: at one point during our Nashville sessions, Rich Mays had me listen back to a passage that he as an organist thought needed to be phrased/shaped/lifted here and there. I listened and concluded, “It sounds like ME. Let’s keep it.” With that, I arrived at the words to express what I had thought for years about performing and recording: Sound like yourself – communicate what you have to say, and the listening audience will hear it.

This project was conceived with a much grander number of instruments intended for inclusion. We were going to record on all the big ones and virtually all the pretty ones. But these multi-venue projects have a way of defining their own parameters as things progress. The project started getting unwieldy and focus-poor. Add to that the logistical nightmare of coordinating schedules among so many venues for only one available week of recording sessions. One roadblock led to another, red tape increased in some places, and unreturned phone calls and emails languished in others (names withheld here, but I am this close…). Engineer and producer Rich Mays saved the day when he noticed our thoughts and plans kept returning to the same handful of deserving organs, all of which happened to be mechanical action. An accident in one way, but a wonderful re-definition of the project! By paring down to the “trackers,” the project’s focus sharpened immediately, and everything carried on much more smoothly from that point on. I backtracked to the “electric action” venues and told them we were scaling back. Everyone understood completely, and I did not encounter a sourpuss anywhere. That is a phenomenon that does not exist everywhere, dear Reader, but I have come to appreciate it so much from the Nashville Chapter of the AGO.

What music to record? And where to record each piece? I believe a recital instrument is much easier to plan for than a recording instrument. With a recital, I get a one-time shot to play for the audience, maybe an archive recording of it is captured, and it’s over. With a recording instrument, everything is laid bare in perpetuity to be played and replayed by any number of listeners (and critics). I chose a large handful of music and started practicing, pondering, and paring down. This piece might work here, this piece might work there, this piece would work anywhere, this piece is too hard, this piece will pair well with this one, and so on. Decisions were made, and off we went to Nashville. You’ll find program notes for all the pieces at the Program Notes tab of this website.

The Gawthrops and I talked and re-talked about a recording title. We made attempts at tying in “Music City” with “mechanical action” or with “the Athens of the South” or with my last name. Of course, the hare-brained titles started showing up, and the laughter derailed the proceedings for a while. “Bell Plays Nashville Belles,” “A Music City Bell,” and so forth. “A Mechanic Visits the Music City” made me sound non-musical (but my father attended mechanic school in Nashville, which would have brought things full-circle in a different way). Shooting a photo of me in a tux in the middle of a Tennessee horse farm just didn’t seem to do it for us, either. Showing me leaning against all six organs was a little more appealing:

Showing me leaning against the Parthenon replica in Nashville’s Centennial Park, with pipes from the six organs peeking between the columns, was even more appealing:

But we were afraid the casual observer wouldn’t get the reference (“What do those columns have to do with anything?”). Enter Bradley Gawthrop, who offered “Music City Mixture.” Everyone froze and made the quick mental trip to the double entendre of ‘mixture’ denoting both an organ stop and this compilation. Perfect. The title was settled. There is a reason I surround myself with people smarter than I.

Lodging had been worked out months before. I was all set to choose a hotel more or less centrally located to the venues. But when I made initial contact with Jennie Lou Smith about recording on the Casavant in Wightman Chapel, not only did she give an enthusiastic Yes to the project, but she also immediately offered the use of her home, right in town. So the lodging question was now settled, much more cheaply and far more luxuriously! In addition to Jennie’s refreshing straightforwardness and encyclopedic knowledge of organists far and wide, there were two delights involved with staying in her elegant home. Her husband, James Gooch, estate-planning attorney by day, is Chairman of the Board of Directors for the Nashville Symphony. Imagine the lively and stimulating conversations with this engaging and charming couple! Despite the pressures of hitting all the right notes and hoping that organs were in tune and the rooms quiet, the lodging arrangements and the company we kept could not have been more revitalizing. Another unexpected delight was in playing their piano for hours. James loves Beethoven Sonatas and all manner of Romantic fare, as do I, and I was all too happy to oblige with playing for him and Jennie. It is remarkable how playing the piano became a great way to relax during an organ recording project. We enjoyed conversations on great music, and I was delighted to have introduced Jennie to the Rachmaninoff Moment Musical in D-flat. Surely in-home musicales like that had to have been the delight of the great composers back in the day. There is something more than mildly invigorating about gathering around music to unwind after a long day. That, plus red wine or Scotch.

Making Music City Mixture

Part 1 of a multi-part narrative of my new recording on mechanical action organs of Nashville. Music City Mixture is available here.

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Why Nashville? And why all mechanical action instruments?

In the summer of 1995, the Nashville chapter of the American Guild of Organists (AGO) hosted the biennial convention for Region IV, the South. That convention was my first – and in many ways my favorite – AGO convention. There were thrilling performances on equally thrilling organs, and I discovered my bliss in assembling with people in the profession. In a trice, I was hooked on AGO conventions and have attended at least one each year ever since. During that convention, I also discovered that Nashville is not all country music. There are splendid organs, fine choirs, and a first-rate symphony orchestra. There are beautiful, acoustically vibrant churches populated with outstanding musicians. Nashville had awakened in me a new perspective on my profession, as well as a new perspective on the musical life of the city itself.

Fast-forward to 2006, where it was announced during the AGO national convention in Chicago that the Nashville chapter would be hosting the national in 2012. The memories of 1995 came flooding back, and wheels began turning. I immediately sought out Bill Gray, the 2012 convention coordinator. I told him my story of “coming to life” during the Nashville regional and that I wanted to help with this one. So I joined the chapter as a dual member, and my years of service with the AGO National Young Artists Competition in Organ Performance made me a good choice to serve on the onsite competition committee during the convention. Meanwhile, I began looking for an additional way to celebrate the fact that my convention attendance was about to come full circle, back to Nashville. A compilation recording of Nashville organs came to mind and kept coming to mind. Music City Mixture is the result.

This narrative involves the rapid tossing about of numerous names, venues, and organ builders. A dramatis personae is offered here:

Rich Mays†, Sonare Recordings, project engineer and producer, Savannah

Jennie Lou Smith and James Gooch, housing hosts for Rich and me, Nashville

Susan Murphey, M.D., my wife and tireless cheerleader, who took many photos, designed some graphics, and suffered with me through finishing up the myriad little details that drive us both crazy

Daniel E. and Jane Gawthrop. Dan is the prolific organ and choral composer whose output includes the hugely popular Sing me to heaven, as well as the Three Floral Preludes on this recording. Jane is an undisputed expert in graphics and publicity – and organists. Without these two, my fame would have gone no further than the nearest county line.

Bradley Gawthrop, brilliant organ builder, graphics designer, and all-around thinker. He designed Joby Bell dot org.

Covenant Presbyterian Church, home of a III/58 C. B. Fisk organ, Op. 134, 2009
- Paul Magyar, former Director of Music Ministries, now Associate Pastor for Music and Worship at Central Baptist Church, Knoxville

First Presbyterian Church, home of a III/49 Beckerath organ, 1974
- Rhonda Swanson, Assistant Organist

Second Presbyterian Church, home of a II/21 Juget-Sinclair organ, Op. 26, 2007
- David Bridges, Director of Music
- Sarah White, Church Administrator

First Lutheran Church chapel, home of a II/10 Wolff et Associés organ, Op. 42, 1998
- Mark Beall, Director of Music

St. Andrew’s Anglican Parish, home of a II/13 Visser-Rowland (Visser & Associates) organ, Op. 102, 1993
- Carl Smith, Organist and Choirmaster

Wightman Chapel, Scarritt-Bennett Center, home of a II/37 Casavant-Frères organ, 1970
- Jennie Lou Smith, Organist

The following two websites are rich sources for information and photos of many Nashville organs. Visit often, and feast your eyes:

Photography by Stein

Nashville AGO (click “Area Organs” in the left sidebar.)

You make it look so easy!

I’m not sure the title of this post is anything to aspire to hear from audience members. If playing the organ were easy, an organist would get bored with it. And I’ve seen that happen to more than one organist. I want to be seen working my hiney off! I want to sweat, huff, puff, and pant in performance. Anything less and the audience isn’t getting its money’s worth.

Of course, some people can push notes down faster and more accurately than others. But without some soul, some work, some affection for the audience, and some unlimited respect for the composer, guess what it all begins to sound like – it sounds like notes being pushed down fast and accurately.

We should pay lots of attention to that man behind the curtain. The music may be jolly, but that organist had better be working for it. Once we allow complacency in, the assembly line approach starts to form around the notes, and trouble begins. I sometimes encounter a similar phenomenon with music I’m repeating many times during a season. But it’s not boredom. Rather, it’s a struggle to keep everything sounding fresh, which is what I want to do above all. But some music needs to rest, and too many repeats make it stale, despite my best efforts. However, a piece that is well-learned will resurrect later more quickly. When I return to a previously oft-played piece, a new freshness will appear, as will an easier time of playing the notes. But the sweat will remain, as it should.

The real test is in how it sounds, not how it looks. Looking easy can go hand in hand with sounding profound. And looking difficult can go hand in hand with sounding utterly scintillating. Every organist has his style, but great music requires our best efforts all the time. If only one could lose weight doing that.

Weddings! Part IV: The XIV Commandments

And it came to pass that the prophet Joby had had enough and did offer these fourteen commandments, thereby getting some things off his chest:

I. Thou shalt not marry a Bridezilla. Neither shalt thou marry a Groomzilla. Thou shalt not vicariously marry either parent of thy betrothed. For in the day that thou doest any of these things, thou and thy youthful spirit shall surely die.

II. When thou shalt say in public or post upon Facebook, “I got engaged!” thou art a liar, for thy fiancé(e) hath got engaged also, and shall be entitled to credit thereof. If thou be stuck in first person singular, then thy fiancé(e) shouldst take heed, for great will be his/her distress in married life.

III. When thou shalt say in public or post upon Facebook, “I’m marrying a doctor!” thou art a liar. Thou art not marrying a doctor. Neither art thou marrying a lawyer, stock broker, banker, musician, teacher, nor CEO. Thou art marrying a man or a woman, and no more, and thy names shall be ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ Thy names shall not be ‘Dr. and Mrs.’ or ‘Mr. and Dr.’ or ‘Dr. and Dr.’ Enough already, I beseech thee.

IV. If any one person among you shall proclaim him- or herself to be in charge without pay, then all others shall run away and never return.

V. Thou shalt allow twice as much time to arrive for the wedding rehearsal as thou thinkest thou shalt need. Many wedding rehearsals begin during Friday rush hour, and in the day that thou respectest not that fact, then thou shalt surely be late to the rehearsal. If thou art a bride or a groom, then thou shalt be at least one-half hour early for rehearsal. If thou art anyone else who hath arrived for the rehearsal on time and do not find there a bride and a groom, then thou shalt be free to go and do as thou please for the rest of the evening.

VI. If thou art a mother or grandmother, thou shalt dress in a manner befitting thy age and thy status as a person not getting married at this time.

VII. If thou art a mother or grandmother, thy seating shall not need to be rehearsed. Verily I say unto you, walking down an aisle and taking a seat, it is a no-brainer.

VIII. Verily I say unto you, it shall not be bad luck for bride and groom to see each other before the wedding ceremony shall commence. Thou shalt not observe such superstitious behavior for a church wedding, for such is an abomination unto the Lord. Verily.

IX. If thou art under the age of eight years, thou mayest be enlisted to carry something down the aisle. But I say unto you that a better way for thee to be involved would be to stay home with thy babysitter until the reception shall commence.

X. If thou art a groom or a groomsman, thou shalt dress like a man, not a frat boy nor cowboy nor prom date.

XI. If thou art a bride or a bridesmaid, thou shalt dress like a woman, not a flower girl nor whore nor prom date. If thy makeup render thee unrecognizable, then thou hast gone too far with it.

XII. If thou art a congregant, thou shalt dress appropriately as befits thy gender. Thou shalt also remain quiet during the prelude. Thou shalt also refrain from applauding and cheering during a church wedding. Thou shalt also leave thy children home with thine hired babysitter.

XIII. If thou art a layman who hath been enlisted to read scripture, thou shouldst read audibly, slowly, and deliberately. Thou shalt not simply insert more pauses between rapid-fire words. And thou shalt say, “First Corinthians,” not “One Corinthians.”

XIV. If thou art a bride or groom, thou shalt recite thy vows confidently and audibly. Thou shalt not leave everyone wondering if thou believest that which thou saith.

Here endeth the lesson. Give thou unto me a break.

Going to Carolina in my mind

My aunt lived in Nashville. My sister lived in Nashville, Vicksburg, and now Dothan. I lived in Houston. My mother lived in Statesville (N.C.). But Mother would never mention those cities by name. She would refer to those destinations by state: “When are you coming back to North Carolina?” “We’re going to Alabama to visit Talana for Christmas.” “Aunt Sandy is going back to Tennessee tomorrow.” Mother would answer ‘North Carolina’ to the question, “Where are you from?” A rather broad-ranging yet endearing approach to geography!

A similar thing occurs, in the other direction, when American organists are referred to in printed materials abroad. For example, Stephen Tharp is represented as being from ‘New York, USA.’ James David Christie would be from ‘Boston, USA.’ I would be from ‘Houston, USA” or ‘Boone, USA.’ But we Americans do the same thing when referring to foreign cities: we talk about visiting ‘Leipzig, Germany’ or ‘Paris, France’ or ‘Toronto, Canada.’ But we skip the county or state that those locals often use. And if you say ‘Frankfurt, Germany’ or ‘Halle, Germany,’ which do you mean? There are two of each!

Well, I have just completed my first-ever visit to “Germany.” I suppose since I didn’t stay in a single city for more than two overnights, I can really say “Germany.” And what a trip! Frankfurt, Halle, Leipzig, Dresden, Naumburg, Merseburg, Berlin, Hamburg, Lübeck, Cologne, Aachen. I have always felt that the best way to tour a city for the first time is to visit its churches, not its museums. The church towers help you get your bearings, and they define so much of a city’s history. And let’s not forget the treasure trove of pipe organs that exists in most European churches. Look at my Facebook photo album “Germany & England 2012.” The photos are all of churches and organs! My first trip to New York City (“New York”) was for an AGO convention. That was perfect, because I got to visit the churches and hear the organs – the very things I would have wanted to hear in the first place but probably couldn’t on my own. Same thing for my first visit to Paris (“France”) – I was on an organized organ tour. That was even better, because not only did I get to hear the organs, but I got to play them, as well.

This trip to “Germany” is actually a trip to “Europe.” Two weeks in Germany, one night in Paris to catch the Chunnel train, and then a week in Sherborne (Dorset!) England, for recital duty. Today, “Germany.” Tomorrow, “Europe.” Next week, “the world!”

Living in the past

Memory Lane may work in the States, but a trip to Europe is a trip down Memory Superhighway. Every time I travel to Europe, I am overwhelmed by the architecture, the history, the ancient amid the new. That doesn’t lose its potency, time after time. And it shouldn’t.

Since my last post, I have visited Frankfurt, Halle, Leipzig, Dresden, Naumburg, Merseburg, and Berlin. Still to come: Hamburg, Lübeck, Cologne, Paris, Sherborne, and London. Whenever I visit a new city, I recognize that the current residents live in the present while honoring the past. But I have only the past as a point of reference. I walk into the Dreikönigskirche in Frankfurt and think about Helmut Walcha, who stopped performing in 1981 and died in 1991. I walk into the Thomaskirche in Leipzig and think about JS Bach. (A lot of water has passed under that bridge since Bach's time!) And imagine how reverently I sat in my seat on the train when it made a quick stop in Eisenach, and I read the sign “Eisenach, Geburtsstadt Johann Sebastian Bachs.” I walk past the Dresden Opera and think of Wagner being there, even though he died in 1883!

More recent history comes alive in more minds in such places as, say, the Frauenkirche in Dresden. Or all over the entire city of Berlin, which is simply electric with its WWII history. Finally, in 1999 the choir I was playing for in Houston visited the memorial to PanAm Flight 103 in Lockerbie, Scotland. That crash occurred in 1988. By 1999 Lockerbie had moved on, but we first-time visitors were overwhelmed as if it had just happened.

The passage of time changes perspectives, depending on where you are or where you were. I will always wish I had been born a few years earlier, so that I could have heard, say, Dupré or Fox or Crozier or Horowitz perform in their primes. I would love to have met Rachmaninoff. I will always wish we could bring composers back to see how rightly famous they are now and to answer questions for us. I’d especially like to bring back those composers who died too young and let them compose some more and live more life: Schubert, Mozart, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Distler.

Sitting in Sunday service at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig, I kept wondering, Would Bach have approved of that sermon? What would he have done on a typical Monday, after Sunday’s hectic schedule? What would he think of all the attention bestowed upon him now? In which of those upper galleries might he have placed musicians? Did that crucifix exist in his day? Was that paint that color? Was this pew original? And so on.

A trip to our (Western) musical past is nearly indescribably informative and meaningful, as witnessed by this rambling post. So stop taking my word for it, and get yourself to a part of Europe where music history would speak most to you. If in doubt, visit Germany, especially Leipzig.

Prophet in his own land

It finally happened. On the home turf.

Each academic college at my university conducts its own Commencement ceremonies. There are seven of them, spread across three days. All of them are held in the multi-purpose arena, except for the School of Music, which is held on its own stage in the music building. Our Commencement is intimate (though full), and it is a special event for our graduates to walk across their own stage to receive their diplomas. I play the organ for the processions, and we hear several student performances during the ceremony, as well. It is a wonderful time for us, and our musically-inclined [now former] Chancellor enjoys coming over for it. Back in 1990, I played for the very first commencement exercises held in the music building. It was my own graduation, and I have savored that memory all these years.

So yesterday, a mere twelve seconds into the prelude, an admin-type comes out on stage, tells me to play on but to bring it down, so that he can instruct the gathering audience to pretend this is church by moving into the center, fill in empty chairs, stop saving seats, and clear the aisles for the procession to come. When he passed back by me, I said, "Yes, that's just like church."

And I wasn't referring to moving into empty seats.

I was referring to the fact that those in charge always seem to find it appropriate to make announcements while live, professionally-prepared and performed music is being played. It happens in church all the time, but when it happens at the hand of a school-of-music admin at a well-respected and accredited school of music, it is a sad day, indeed.

I resumed and finished. Then I started the processional.

At which time all the above happened again.

Yes, a second time. Same person, new announcement of overflow in the Recital Hall next door.

I have no publicly-consumable language left to continue telling this story here. I will simply finish by saying that I was vindicated by a text I retrieved after Commencement from one of my sharper sacred music students: "How rude of Dr. X!"

We are not amused

Transitioning to one's very first corrective lenses at age 44 is hard on the psyche and hard on the eyes. But transitioning to progressive lenses at the same time is even worse. While I really like the frames I chose and what they do to soften my leonine head, I am not amused at having to look through a straw to see what I want to see. I am not amused that "cutting the eyes" one direction or another now gives them something fuzzy to look at. And I am certainly not amused that music on the rack fishbowls its way around as I turn my head, and that I can't see my hands at all.

This is not good, folks. I am a latecomer to corrective lenses, and I don't expect sympathy from people who have worn glasses since their pre-double-digit years. But I got recitals to play! Help!!

When one goes through a change like this, one notices more things around him. I had never noticed until the past week that a lot of people wear glasses. Apparently, there will always be a need for optometrists. In the wake of my mother's death on March 20 this year, I also know that there will always be a need for funeral directors. Might there always be a similar need for organists as the years go by?

Yesterday, I played the lovely Gabriel Kney organ at St. Luke's Church in Boone, NC. As I listened to the congregation singing with wonderful abandon, I returned to the same thoughts I have had for 20 years every time I play for church:

1. This is so cool. This is fun. They're singing well, and I'm good at this.

2. But I don't think I could ever stand the politics of full-time church work again.

3. I wonder if churches will stop needing organists one of these days? When will this get old to them?

4. I wonder if all those little churches who are finding themselves in the position of having to hire an organist, rather than depend on the sweet, elderly lady who is "retiring," ever be able to pull it off now? More than one church from my past has unplugged the console to make room for more digital and percussion instruments.

Honestly, I think there will always be a place for organists in our churches. If that is no longer true, what might be the last church standing? That is a fascinating question to ponder, but let's hope things never get that far.

Meanwhile, I'll keep subbing in church whenever I can (and as long as I can see music and hands and feet). We can be amused at that, in every good sense of the word.

Take time to smell the roses

So much music, so little time. Music’s only drawback is that you can’t hear it all at once. Each piece has to unfold over time.

But I am impatient. I want to hear every wonderful piece at the same time. Likewise, I want to play every wonderful piece ever composed. I don’t want to pick and choose what gets played on a recital – I want to play everything, all the time! I don’t like living without Franck to work on Vierne. I don’t like to leave Widor in the filing cabinet while I work on Bach. I want them all, all the time! But my chosen profession involves tiny bites, and I learn to be patient. When I’m finally seated on the bench and playing for an audience, I like every note and am ready to linger among the roses. Therefore, I tend to play a little slower sometimes – I love the notes too much to plow through them without some tender caressing along the way.

Another way in which I’m smelling the roses these days is in recycling pieces on programs. Each year over the past eight years or so, I have been learning at least two full programs of previously unlearned or un-memorized music. I have enjoyed it so much, but there is a great deal of music out there, and I haven’t gotten to re-visit any of the great stuff I have already played. So I’m beginning to go back and resurrect pieces that I had a wonderful season with a few years ago. Don’t worry – I won’t be recycling things in your area that you’ve already heard. I keep detailed records on that sort of stuff, and I follow my own rules, explained in another post.

This post is short. I have to go practice some more wonderful music I can’t wait to get learned.