Widor vs. Joby, Part 2: Symphony No. II

This is the second installment in my series on my take on playing the complete works of Charles-Marie Widor. See the first post in the series for an introduction and my philosophies behind this blog series. And as always, refer to John Near’s edition for important corrections in the scores that I might not necessarily mention.

Symphony II is up today. Visit my program notes on the piece. And of course, feel free to order the recording.

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Movement I: Praeludium Circulare

Interesting that Widor gives this movement a Latin subtitle, rather than French. He did nothing lightly, and so there is probably a message there. Perhaps it’s a nod toward the movement he added in a later revision, the Salve Regina?

This movement unfolds with a repeating motive, much like a motive you’ll catch over and over in a movie score. I have only one comment for this movement: In measure 37, Widor appears to indicate the move to the Great on the C natural in the soprano. I make the move on the next note, the Db. It allows a smoother transition for the fingers and prevents that C from sounding so important for so long.

Movement II: Pastorale

This movement is probably the most salon-like of the ‘salon’ style these early Symphonies are accused of having. The melody here is unabashed in its charm and downright impishness.

Measures 2-4 exhibit the nagging issue of staccatos marked and unmarked. In this measure, the left hand staccatos suddenly disappear. Knowing Widor’s fastidiousness about articulations, I feel that is not an oversight. Had he intended the staccatos to continue, he would have either written them (more likely) or indicated simile or some such. Look through the movement at the other staccatos that he indicates and does not leave to chance. Therefore, I play the unmarked notes in this movement legato unless otherwise instructed. I have never heard anyone do it that way, but that seems more faithful to Widor than to make assumptions.

Ditto measures 7-8, 59-66, 74-77, 94, 96, etc. Again, it’s no trouble for Widor to add those little dots on these relatively few notes, had he wanted them. On the other hand, it would have been helpfully indisputable for him to have indicated legato, just to make sure! Next time I see him, I’ll ask him.

Measure 18: Changing Positif stops there as Widor indicates would affect the Pedal still playing, since Pos-Ped has been on since measure 9. I delay that registration change until beat 2 in measure 19. Then the Pedal may be adjusted to taste for measure 21.

Measures 30-31: I remove couplers and maybe a stop or two to create a diminuendo into 32. Then I re-adjust the Pedal for 34.

Measure 42 should be on the Récit, and the Pedal should balance appropriately. John Near’s research confirms that. Be sure to check his edition for important corrections, always.

Measure 50: Ditto from measure 18, but I also reduce the Pedal during that time, anyway, to prepare for the piano in 52.

Measure 85 should continue the dialog between Great and Swell. Again, see John Near.

Measures 92-97: The Great Flute (left hand and unenclosed) seems a little strong against the Oboe (right hand and fully closed). I feel a return to the opening registration is in order there. That would necessitate reducing the Pedal and/or removing the Great-Ped, plus moving the left hand back to the Positif at some point, which I choose to do on beat 10 of measure 92.

Movement III

To my ear, measures 4, 8, 40, etc., beg for a full break between phrases. But Widor doesn’t call for a break there, which we have to remember when dealing with these French guys. Franck excepted, when they want you to break, they’ll write a rest or a breath mark. Otherwise, legato it is. That is also why I go to so much trouble to smooth out manual changes, as well. Examples in this movement of opportunities for smooth manual changes are measures 67-68, 69-70, 76, etc. I believe that too many performers add a full break when they see a change of manual, but it’s no more than adding instruments in an orchestration – just because the trumpets are coming in does not mean the winds need to take a breath and the strings stop their bows!

Measure 127, beat 3: I add Great-Ped. I remove it again in 131. Again, I am always ‘managing’ Pedal couplers to keep things in balance. On Widor’s instrument and similar, that probably is not so necessary, but he would understand – so long as things sound good, he would be happy with any changes made. I should note here that he would not approve of constant registration changes just for different colors (hint, hint), but he would certainly approve of reducing the Pedal to fit.

Movement IV: Salve Regina

This movement is one of those later additions that doesn’t fit with the other movements in the least. This movement is completely serious, while the rest of the Symphony is, to my ear, the lightest of all. Nevertheless, I recorded this movement and not the original Scherzo it replaced. It was a decision between the more stylistically congruous movement (scherzo) vs. the better music (Salve Regina). Perhaps I could have recorded both, but that didn’t feel like a good fit, either. We’ll have this conversation again, with a different result, with the Eighth Symphony. This conversation brings up the ‘purist’ approach to recording every note Widor wrote for solo organ vs. recording every piece the way he left it, while leaving out the sillier pieces (such as the Marche Nuptiale and Marche Americaine, which I refused to record!).

Movement VI: Finale

This piece is more wickedly detailed than many would care to admit. We have the recurring vague staccato issue, which in this case is that the final note of a slur (second note of each measure at the beginning here) should not be shortened unless specifically marked. But then that would create a rhythmic mismatch between the hands: on the second beat of each measure in the beginning, the left hand has a fully-held quarter note, while the right hand is now in staccato eighths. But Widor would not want to hear separate releases of chords – he considered that ragged. Therefore, I do shorten the left hand second beat by an eighth, releasing it with the fourth eighth note in the right hand. Sound like rocket science by now? Just listen carefully and make good decisions. If Widor had wanted the left hand second beat to be super short, he would have taken the time to notate it so.

Measure 9: The stacc. indicated there should instead be simile. See John Near.

Measures 17-18 and 21-22: The hands are not uniformly marked staccato, neither against each other nor against the patterns already established in the first few measures. But we can make the assumption to continue as previously marked. Widor sometimes marked only the first few instances and left it to the publisher to continue. See John Near.

Measure 28-30: I suppose most performers separate the manual chords and play the Pedal legato, but the argument may be made that Widor's lack of articulations demands legato. However, we all know that sometimes full-chord writing makes legato impossible, such as the march movement in Symphony III or the first movement, measures 220ff, in Symphony V. But even when legato is possible (and it is possible here), the character may allow an unwritten liberty to detach such obviously martial chords. Me? I split the difference, detaching measures 28-29 and playing the cadence into 30 legato. Ditto for the similar sections later on: measures 48-50 and 98-100.

Measures 150-152: Many performers make the ties as instructed but detach everything else, even the companion whole notes. But again, in the strict sense of ‘all legato unless otherwise instructed or otherwise impossible,’ I’d say the entire whole-note chords might be better served legato. By maintaining the top note of the whole-note chords, you achieve sort of an ‘echo’ effect against the topmost soprano in the right hand.

Widor vs. Joby, Part 1: Symphony No. I

This is the first installment in a series on my take on playing the complete works of Charles-Marie Widor. See the first post in the series for an introduction and my philosophies behind this blog series. And as always, refer to John Near’s edition for important corrections in the scores that I might not necessarily mention.

Symphony I is up today. Visit my program notes on the piece. And of course, feel free to order the recording.

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Widor never hesitated to revise earlier works. He revised the first eight organ Symphonies a number of times over the years, yielding multiple editions. From one perspective, revision was a good thing, as it increased his baseline maturity across more works. On the other hand, it sometimes left a large work with uneven style or lapses in quality, not to mention a new crop of engraving errors at every turn. John R. Near to the rescue, with his exhaustive edition of all the organ Symphonies, available from A-R Editions. Get out your credit card and get the entire set.

All that to say that each Symphony “grew” on me in different ways. Had Widor left them all unaltered over time, I would probably have a predictably greater fondness for the later works, maybe even disdain for the salon-like youthfulness of the earlier ones. But with glimpses of mature genius in the earlier works due to his revisions, there are pockets of sheer bliss in all these pieces. Therefore, as it turns out, the First Symphony is one of my favorites. It is a bit long and dense, so I'm not yet sure if I could keep an audience's attention for the entire work, but I might try one of these days. As I told John Near, “The Fugue alone is utterly miraculous.”

Movement I, Prélude

Beginning: Widor calls for Réc-Ped but not Réc-Great. The Récit has only flutes 8 and 4 in the beginning, but on Widor’s instrument (and all over France) that’s audible enough to make a difference! He wanted only 8-foot on the Great, and that’s that. Here in the States, coupling the Swell 4-foot flute is not is not such a big deal because on many organs, that stop is either inaudible (therefore useless) or stentorian (therefore useless).

The articulation in the very first measures gets some rather interesting treatments. Some performers interpolate staccato on notes where Widor didn’t write them. He marked only the third and fourth notes of each four-note group in the Pedal staccato. That means that the second note into the third note is still legato. Had Widor wanted the last slurred note (the second) shortened, he would have added a staccato marking to it.

Furthermore, the manuals have no staccatos written; therefore they are legato. Had Widor intended anything else, he would have been fastidious about the markings. He made no assumptions when he wrote staccato throughout the entire movement in the Pedal. Therefore, there is no reason for him to assume that the performer would do the same thing in the manuals without specific instruction. Lesson: the French are very particular about their articulations. If you break after a slur when it is not so marked, you’re mixing German and British spices into French soup, and that’s not allowed!

Measure 21: Don’t hold the first beat any longer than one beat, so that the Positif entrance can be heard.

Measure 25: For matters of balance, I remove Great-Ped for this section, restoring it in measure 38. Widor didn’t mind such adjustments; someone like him was certainly cognizant that no two organs are alike. If the balance is good, then Widor would be pleased. I’ll be saying that a thousand times in this series.

Measure 29: The hands return to the Great there, but I don’t restore the Great-Ped coupler just yet. It makes a nicer appearance in 38, where it begins the ‘fugue’ subject again, this time against all three manuals coupled together (for the first time).

Measure 38: I add more Pedal here, just because.

Measure 70: This is the ‘recap.’ I prepare it by taking seriously the marked crescendo in 67 and by holding back in 69. Notice that the hands have not yet returned to the Great there – the Pedal begins the recap, as it began the movement.

Measure 80: Widor suggests full Swell (Récit) there, plus fully closed box. But he has left the decision of exactly when to close the box up to the performer. I close the box gradually throughout measures 78-79. But Widor also does not indicate exactly when to add full Swell. That has to be decided carefully, because it will affect any notes being played at the time. The third beat of 80 seems an obvious place so that the soprano can begin the phrase, but to add it there would render the third beat too much of an ‘event’ in the left hand and Pedal. I choose to add it precisely on the fourth beat, where something new is beginning in the soprano. It would be nice to add it on the downbeat of 80, where the left hand begins a new statement of the main theme, but again, that would render the right hand and Pedal suddenly too ‘important.’ Perhaps another organist might play that left hand statement on another manual with a grander registration. That would be a little fussy but okay with me.

Movement II

Careful getting too sentimental with this movement. The music is sentimental enough and risks being overblown if you sentimentalize the rhythm, as well. Widor was all about balance and cleanliness, not wallowing!

Measure 15: I reduce the Pedal to balance the Positif.

Measure 19: Caution: right hand remains on the Great.

Measures 23-28 are tricky. Too fast, and they sound frantic. Too free, and they sound directionless. Those measures just have to be perfect, I guess! In all seriousness, these measures might have to be your primary determiner of the opening tempo, so that the fast notes are in perfect proportion and sound like they actually belong.

Measures 44-54: Depending on which edition you’re using, you may need some corrections of quite a few notes. See John Near’s edition.

Measure 53: I remove Great-Ped for balance against the Récit. (There is a note being held there in the corrected version.) 

Measure 136: I add Réc-Ped for better balance during the Récit crescendo. I continue to ‘toggle’ Pedal couplers on and off throughout this movement and throughout all the Symphonies; by now, you get the idea. It’s always about balance, and Widor knew that.

Measure 164 into 165: Widor has a vague notation there in the left hand. The lower E-flat is tied. To most eyes, that means ‘break the other notes,’ right? But not so fast: 1) the right hand was given a quarter rest – why not the upper notes of the left hand? Widor appears to want them treated differently (as in not broken?). 2) The higher E-flat in the left hand may tie to 165 – it’s not important enough to break, as if it were a melody of some sort. And if you do break it but not the D-flat under it, then the D-flat suddenly takes on more importance than it deserves. 3) The other two voices in the left hand may move legato into 165. Experiment with all this. Don’t forget: from Widor onward, legato unless otherwise instructed.

Movement III: Intermezzo

My brain thinks ‘soothing’ when it sees ‘intermezzo.’ Not at all so here. Neither in Symphony 6.

Widor left out the Pedal coupler indications at the beginning, but it should probably be Great and Réc to Pedal. He also left out manual coupler indications. See John Near, and see what the music says to you, too. And again, I’ll change Pedal couplers here and there to balance.

Notice that Widor places a tenuto on the first note of each measure. He also did something similar in his revision of the famous Toccata. He is trying not only to give each downbeat some strength, but he’s also trying to help the performer understand that ‘excessive speed kills.’ His metronome marking is far too fast, not only for the acoustics he was used to but also for the pipes to speak. It was common for him and others to extol the rapid repeat rate of Cavaillé-Coll actions, which was indeed nice, but the pipes themselves will still need some time to move the air and speak completely. My tempo is approximately 108 on my recording. Acoustic and organ action will always dictate the proper tempo, and Widor knew that.

Measure 47: I close the Réc there, to hear a more pronounced dialogue with the Positif.

Movement IV: Adagio

Throughout this movement, I use the Pedal to help with wide left hand reaches. It requires lots of pistons to cancel Pedal stops and add the necessary couplers so that it sounds like the left hand, and then to return the Pedal to its own function. But I am a champion of legato at all costs, and so I use the technology available to me. Were I ever to play this piece in France, I would owe my registrants a nice dinner afterward.

Measure 25, beat 4: I remove the Great-Ped for balance. Ditto measure 44.

Measure 64, beat 8: I move the right hand to the Récit there. It makes a smoother transition.

Measure 67: According to the location of his directive within the staves, Widor asks both hands to move to the Positif. But the notes are so thick with ties there that there is no ‘clean’ way to do that. Therefore, I never move the left hand at all, and I move the right hand to the Positif in measure 68, beat 3 (tied to 4). That also creates the fringe benefit of matching more closely Widor’s similar manual terracing beginning in measure 71, this time with Great against Positif.

Movement V: Marche Pontificale

Shameless piece! Don't be shy.

Measure 24: For my recording, I’m afraid I misread this measure as the first measure of the first ending, which meant that for the second ending, I skipped it and went straight to m. 29. But when I discovered my error, I still kind of preferred my way! And so the error remains on the recording. Widor, please forgive me.

Measure 68: I smooth out this manual change by moving the left hand to the Great for the last three sixteenths.

Measures 77-81: use your pistons generously for a smooth crescendo! Ditto 180-190.

Measure 104: I play the alto voice on the Positif to enhance the diminuendo.

Measure 153: Widor does a most curious thing here, using the Pedal to assist the left hand with large leaps. I don’t recall that he ever does that again. I reduce the Pedal and add all the Pedal couplers so that the 'drop-off' for the lower notes is not terribly noticeable. It was nice of Widor to write that measure that way to assist the left hand with those wide leaps, but if he’s just using the Pedal to help with those quick notes, then I feel the registration should match more closely. Furthermore, he doesn't always show such mercy with wide leaps, such as in Symphony IV, movement 3, measure 36, left hand, or Symphony IV, movement 4, measures 242-243, right hand.

Measure 220: The left hand jump into measure 221 is treacherous, and I don't like shortening the final sixteenth triplet to get there. I smooth that out by moving the lowest manual voice of 220 to the Pedal so that the Pedal is now in octaves. That glides smoothly into 221, where the Pedal is already in octaves. Sneaky am I.

Movement VI: Méditation

This movement lays bare a recurring decision between when to break and when to tie/legato. The repeated dotted quarters of the first few bars are easy enough to perform, but in measure 4, where there is now presumably legato motion available between notes, does one play legato when possible and break repeated notes? Or does one retain the fully broken notes that the first three measures established? My ear wants to maintain that broken feel as a gentle "pulse" for the piece, even though the presence of moving notes makes breaking no longer necessary. Nevertheless, for my recording I took the “purist” approach: In measure 7, from the first chord into the second, I took the upper and middle left hand notes legato and broke the lowest note. Moving into the next chord, I tied the Cb as instructed, broke the Gb, and played the Eb to Db legato. There are many, many examples in this movement (and the entire genre) of that ‘division of labor’ within a single chord, where each voice may require separate treatment depending on its role in the moment, and I feel too many performers don't pay enough attention to details like that. I like to think that no amount of obsession with those details is too much.

Movement VII: Finale

Measures 57-61: Widor moves both hands to the Positif, but given the fugue subject in the left hand beginning in measure 58, I prefer to move only the left hand. My right hand will join on the Positif in 62.

Measures 80-81: lots of pistons!

Measure 106: For my recording, I gave in to a nagging desire to end this piece without so many reeds in the Great and Pedal. Widor doesn’t indicate a decrescendo, but on the particular organ I recorded on, it just sounded better to back off for the end, just like Widor did at the end of the Gothique and the Romane. Widor forgive me -- I don't re-write your music so boldly very often!

Eat your vegetables

Imagine the youngster who has the fingers for the Widor Toccata. Then imagine the logic that says, “All they have to do now is add some Pedal and a few pistons and the box, and they are on their way, wowing the family and the congregation and eventually an audience.” To that, I would reply, “So when will clean staccato, console technique, good rhythm, and the notated reality of 100 bpm be dealt with? And how long will we allow this kid to continue blasting through that piece at Widor’s expense, before a teacher steps in to clean it up?” If that kid makes her local reputation playing all the usual flashy finger flingers, then she will never be held down to re-learn them properly as a professional. And that would be a disservice to her.

Of all instruments I have seen training in up close, virtuosic organ pieces creep into the beginner’s repertoire the earliest. I know of NO violin teacher who would allow a beginner to tackle the Mendelssohn Concerto. I know of NO voice teacher who would allow anyone under the age of about 25 to begin tackling Wagner. During my very first organ lessons as a high schooler, I was assigned the Franck Prelude, Fugue and Variation, a couple movements of Couperin, and BWV 549. Good fingers or not, I just can’t imagine handing those to anyone who hasn’t studied the organ for at least a year or two. The notes are only the beginning. Technique needs to be the vegetables our young students have to eat in order to play well and to know what it takes to be called “well.”

Then there is the favorite "beginner's" piece, the Vierne Westminster Carillon, which is a nightmare to get just right, even for a professional (or at least for the professionals who are paying attention). But the granddaddy of them all is the Final from the Vierne First Symphony. Everyone adores that opening melody, so powerful in the pedal, with those cascading manual figurations. So impressive and thrilling, right?. But the informed decisions that have to be made regarding slurring and detaching in that piece are utterly staggering. And after that, the other ten pages have to be dealt with. But no one seems to care, so long as we get to that final pedal flourish and those last three chords. All at poor, dead Vierne’s expense. Meanwhile, the student is never given a clue about how to improve the piece -- it's used only to impress.

Snacks are not vegetables: Those five tired chords from “Phantom of the Opera” do not constitute a whole piece. The opening mordent in BWV 565 is not enough for the junior high schooler who can play it to be called “awesome” or “the coolest.” Youngsters need to eat their vegetables. If they can play the whole piece as well as they play the worn-out parts, THEN they’ll be awesome and the coolest. And the teacher who has insisted on that vegetarian diet will be the coolest of all.

Suppertime!

Widor vs. Joby: Introduction

My arguments with Charles-Marie Widor have been numerous and intense. He demands much of the fingers and feet, but he always demands so much more of the brain, the ears, and the soul. He always wins the arguments, as should any composer. But I also win because I learn so much.

I recorded all ten of Widor’s solo organ Symphonies, plus his later works Suite Latine, Bach’s Memento, and the Trois Nouvelles Pièces. That makes me a Widor expert, right? Well, it certainly makes me more fortunate than I ever thought I’d be. I never thought I’d be learning my way through all those works, many of which had previously just sat in my growing score collection for many years. I never thought I’d experience this transcendent music rendered even more transcendent on the organs I chose to record them on. So NOW I’m an expert, right? Sure.

For this music, I have already written about the recording sessions and the organs I recorded on. In the present series I’ll be offering the many tiny refinements I made for myself to what’s on Widor’s pages, much as I did with Franck a few years ago. I’ll address my approaches to them all, one opus at a time, until they’re done. Meanwhile, here are some general comments and methods:

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In his Bach edition co-edited with Albert Schweitzer, Widor constantly admonished the organist to make their own decisions, indeed to search out their own path to decisions. Widor was careful to remind that his editorial was truly editorial and not absolute. He also allowed similar freedom in his own music, depending on the organ; not every gadget existed on very organ, and not every note could be played the same way on every organ. And let’s not forget that the organ Widor was used to was an anomalous, whopping five-manual monster, whereas his given registrations are for the more conventional three-manual organ.

In much French Symphonic organ music, coupler indications are not included with the registration directives at the top. Rather, you have to look into the score for coupler hints. “G.P.R.” in the manual staves indicates, “Play on the Great, and couple the other two manuals to it.” “P.R.” means, “Play on the Positif with the Récit coupled to it.” “G” means, “play on the Great with nothing coupled to it.” And so forth. For all movements in all the Widor works, I scribbled coupler indications among the stop registrations. That saves a few seconds when registering on the next organ.

Friend, Manual I/II Transfer is your friend. And in my book, “friend” is anything that helps makes manual changes smoother. “Thumbing” among manuals is a thing, even back to Bach and earlier. In the English or American configuration, where the Great manual is in the middle, it is possible to “thumb” to either of the other manuals. But Widor's Great was on the bottom, and so he was able to thumb from the Positif in either direction, but from the Great only up to the Positif. But not so fast – he couldn’t even do THAT, as it turns out, because he had, for lack of more room to explain it here, TWO Great manuals, which means that his Positif was the THIRD manual up, and his Récit was the FOURTH manual up. So virtually all thumbing I do in Widor is just because I can and not at all because Widor necessarily could.

Therefore, whenever I am compelled by a small, inner voice to make a change to venerable music, such as the slight alterations I'll be sharing in this series, I do so by first considering how the composer might have played a certain passage, given the instrument they played regularly. Once I have done that and have determined that I can make use of a slightly different method or technology on another organ, then I make the change and the notation, exclusively in the interest of clarity of voices or of manual change convenience. (I don't re-compose the piece.) I make a very great number of little changes, none of which should be felonious but all of which add a little more polish to things.

A few additional thoughts:

1) Widor was not exhaustively researched until John R. Near came along. Do yourself a favor and get Near’s two books on Widor's life and thoughts on organ playing, plus Near's editions of the Symphonies (A-R Editions), and the Bach’s Memento (Crescendo Music Publications). You won’t be disappointed; you will be overcome in equal parts by Widor’s genius as well as Near’s exhaustive care in reporting.

2) Recordings of the Symphonies abound and are still being made, and I haven’t found a bad one yet. Pick one. Or four.

3) Widor’s music “translates” differently when recorded vs. performed live. Many live performances offer excerpted movements only, whether to allow more time on a program for other composers or because the performer doesn’t like all movements of an opus. I have gone the excerpt route only twice. Now I’m a believer in all or nothing. I like to perform the Bach’s Memento and Symphonies 3, 5, 6, 8, and Romane in recital. I’ll be working to get No. 7 and Gothique planned on future programs. The others (1, 2, 4) are no less wonderful, but they have a harder time “fitting” into my programming.

4) For what it’s worth, I’m entitled to a least favorite, am I not? Number 4.

5) My favorite? It’s a tie between Romane and Number 8.

Is the Widor Toccata finally slipping?

Organists get this all the time, from all directions:

“Do you play the Widor Toccata?”

“We had the Widor Toccata played at our wedding.”

“Oh, we just love the Widor.”

“Yeah, ah really lak thayuht Wide-Oar TAHK-uh-TAH.” (true story)

“My ordination is next June. Could you play the Widor Toccata for it?”

“My mother is coming to visit. If we were to drop in during your practice time, do you think you could play the Widor Toccata for her birthday?”

“I think the Widor would be so beautiful at Christmas time.”

“We want the Widor played during our wedding prelude so we can hear it.”

"All of us want the Widor for our funerals."

“My wife and I are having our fourth child baptized in church on December 9, and we want to hear the Widor Toccata that day for the postlude. We had that piece at our wedding, but due to his health, your predecessor was always unable to play it for the baptisms of our first three children, and we’re hoping that we can hear it at least one more time before our children grow up and use that piece at their weddings.” (tragically true story)

Now, this enthusiasm has come from individuals and probably always will. But I have sensed a difference among the community at large. In the past couple years, I have played the entire 5th Symphony in recital several times. And every time, of course, I tell audiences beforehand that this Symphony contains THE piece. I have taken a quick poll each time: “How many of you had the Widor Toccata played at your weddings or other event?” And the hands go up. 

But I have noticed that not as many hands go up as used to. Even in the past couple years, the number of hands has dwindled. And I know that the mean age of my audiences has not dropped. Whatever is going on, I’m thinking I’ll never ask again. I’m even thinking of removing mention of the Toccata’s popularity from my program notes and just letting the piece be a piece, as it was before.

The younger generation has no idea what a Widor Toccata is, and a few don’t want to know. Below are some written reviews of the piece from non-music-major essays that recently came my way. I’m quoting only from the haters, who were in the minority. But their hatred is so eloquent that it bears quoting: 

“I dislike the Toccata style and found the piece too ‘busy’ to follow along with the clashing melodies.”

“It all seemed to blend together into one indistinct mess.”

“…not very enjoyable to me at all. The way the notes were put together did not sound right to me for some reason. The organ as an instrument just sounds like noise to me sometimes, and that was especially true during this piece. The melodies and harmonies were each complex and interesting on their own, but when they were put together it seemed like too much. The whole thing sounded disorganized…I listened to several other recordings of the piece to see if I would like those better. I think I ended up hating this piece more after my doing that.”

“…very jarring to hear after the movement that came before it, and I hated it. It sounded messy and loud, even worse than the first piece of the recital was for me. I don’t know why anyone would want this played at their wedding. It was just ugly sounding to me. I listened to so many recordings of this movement trying to find just one thing I liked about it, but the only positive thing I could say was that it ended. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a visceral hatred for a piece of music that wasn’t by a Soundcloud rapper. Messy, obnoxious, and repetitive are the only words that come to mind when I think of this.”

“The unrelenting nature of the piece was not a fit for me. I enjoy using music as a catalyst to the stream of my consciousness, and often time I meditate while listening to music. The rhythmic repetition of the piece, while impressive from a performing standpoint, was just adding to my earache.”

The organ, of course, is not familiar to increasing numbers of young people. And this style of music might have a harder time reaching ears these days, let alone hearts. That is what it is. A little education goes a long way, and I’ll not give up that particular fight.

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P.S.: For the record: I try not to play the Toccata anymore for Easter or weddings or any other event unless specifically requested by someone who knows that there were more than only two organ pieces ever written.

P.P.S.: Also for the record: I certainly don’t play it on an organ that has only buzzy reeds or has as many mixture ranks as foundations. I feign a broken arm when those come along.

P.P.P.S.: And also for the record: I play it at quarter note = 100, just the way Widor marked it. Read about that here. Speed kills.

Another new day

I've had four recitals, an orchestra appearance, a weeklong conference, and a musical cancelled for the coronavirus. Next up is September. We'll hold our breath.

I am on day 4 of my state's governor-ordered 30-day stay-at-home period. I am teaching four courses and four organists online. I am loath to check the news each day. I am disallowed from going to my office to work or to play on Clara Belle. My friends and fellow human beings are suffering with virus cases, overwork in essential services, and unemployment. I have reflected profoundly on which crisis affect which professions, how my friends are doing, how my enemies are doing, and how glad I am not to have a job in upper administration of ANYTHING.

And on the other side: My house is now the cleanest in Christendom. My courses are the most organized and fleshed out they will ever be. I am trying out some really nice recipes. Spring is springing. I am saving huge amounts of money on gas and restaurants. I am reaching out to some folks I haven't spoken with in years. I'm seeing the light dawn on some folks who realize how much cleaner the air is right now, how important we are to each other, and how much of a stupid game politics has evolved into. And thanks to quarantine and my Lenten veganism, I have lost ten pounds; only 25 to go. But I might have to go get a case of Corona as a gesture of support and as a test to find out where the stupid people are around me.

This is truly a new day, and no reader needs me to point that out. I can't remember a weirder time since 9/11. I look forward to the end of this particular tunnel, even as I know the end is nowhere in sight. I wish all who read this some moment of joy, cheer, closure, forward momentum, or just a good ol' temper tantrum. Health to all.

A new day

Whew! I've been a little tied up. But I haven't forgotten my kind and faithful readers. 

Sometimes I feel triumphant, usually after a major report has been submitted or I have just played a memorized recital. As I've said before, I just sound better when things are memorized. And my writing is as daily as my practicing, so the feeling of creative completion is near-daily when writing. And so here I sit.

Other times I feel pressed upon from every direction and feel I may never dig out. Deadlines loom, notes go unmemorized, reports go unwritten. I have had a very hard time keeping up with my first-ever Honors course in music for non-majors this semester. Those guys are on the ball! And the paperwork involved with teaching, especially in a state institution, is enough to crush any Luke Cage.

Well, all this to say that although my silence on this blog is inexcusable, I now have new inspiration! I'm going to post a multi-part series on playing the Widor Symphonies. Having just finished recording them all, those magnificent notes continue to swirl in my head, as do all the adjustments I made in registering them on various organs. Otherwise, it occurs to me that lessons and videos on helping young people play the organ are legion, but there is precious little out there to help the professionals. While I won't presume that the professionals (such as myself) need my help, I do feel it will be fun to produce some comments on each and every Widor movement, much as I did with the complete Franck works.

So get ready. Teacher Joby is coming down the hall. I can't promise that this will begin tomorrow. But maybe the next day.

Congregating

Today, I said goodbye to one of the smarter congregations I have had the privilege to serve as organist. For two years, the people of St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Boone, NC, have sung heartily for me, laughed uproariously with me, and served their community with single-minded determination. May they ever prosper, and may my successor Marc Longlois enjoy success after success as their new organist. I thank the Rev. Cynthia "Cyndi" Banks for her quiet leadership and commitment to both good liturgy and to people. She is the embodiment of the fact that it is possible to serve God with dignity and meet people where they are at the same time.

Several years ago, I posted a list of the congregations I had served. Since then, I have added two more; this one, and the First Presbyterian Church of Statesville, NC, where I served as Interim Organist for two years.

I guess two years is the magic number for my service in churches. But under the hood is the fact that I have to come to terms with my inability to provide the continuity I would like to. With my traveling and other craziness that comes with being a professor and professional musician, I have to admit defeat. My hat is off to my colleagues worldwide, who juggle teaching and performing and church-ing. I don't know how they do it (assistant organists, perhaps?). Well, I have learned my lesson. But I have enjoyed the support of many congregations who understand, and I depart with their blessing and good wishes.

Since St. Luke's is within walking distance of my house, I'll certainly see them again. They are worth seeing.

Taking a Longview of things

My latest recording, an all-British program, is about to come out on the Centaur label. Here are some thoughts that didn’t fit in the allocated space in the liner notes:

Say “Longview” to most any organist, and their eyes will glaze over in a semi-trance of ecstasy. Any organ nerd who has read this far now knows where this recording was made, assuming they didn’t infer it from the title of the post.

Churches are interesting to different people for different reasons. Architects, pastors, Christians, and organists take their own pleasure out of exploring these monuments constructed to the Almighty. And if there is a fine pipe organ to be found within, then the organist is in an even deeper nirvana. The First Baptist Church of Longview, Texas, is an example. The drive up to the building is awesome enough, with its towering roofline and all-brick construction in what some might call “Modern Gothic” (not Gothic Revival). Upon entrance into the narthex and into the center aisle, one is greeted by the airiest, most resplendent space of light, lightness, and weightiness in all the right places. It is an astounding space for worship, fellowship, and unplugged sound. The architecture never gets old. I have stepped into that space countless times, and it takes my breath away every time, even after something so mundane as a bathroom break. And it’s all accomplished with brick and stained glass. Perhaps the one thing the room could have benefitted even more from would be exposed pipework.

Chances are that organists might not know about the room if not for Aeolian-Skinner Op. 1174 housed within it. A G. Donald Harrison signature, unaltered, it is its own monument to Harrison, to American organ building, and to that magnificent heyday that church music enjoyed a generation ago. The space and its resident instrument are perfect. The sense of history an organist feels in a space like that is perhaps completely foreign to any other observer. We organists understand that churches cannot live on organ and acoustics alone. But we continue to owe it to ourselves and our students to understand the accomplishment reflected in this organ and its sisters nationwide. To that end, the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival, headquartered in nearby Kilgore, Texas, celebrates each year this and other landmark instruments, the products of the perfect storm of America’s leading organ building firm Aeolian-Skinner, that firm’s president and tonal director G. Donald Harrison, and regional representative and extraordinary designer and voicer Roy Perry. To the casual worshipper, the First Baptist Church of Longview represents a quiet miracle in many lives. But to organists, it represents one of the most heralded miracles in our history.

For more tidbits on this organ and my friendship with it, search "Longview" on this website. And see the liner notes when the recording comes out.

Nerding out

Organists worldwide are resting easy this week, having just completed their grueling Christmas service playing duties. I myself played four Eucharist celebrations in two churches in 20 hours’ time. While it recovers, my tired, feeble mind has noticed that many things I talk about fit under the umbrella of nerdspeak:

1. I am reminded of a previous post about what some people might think if they overheard a bunch of organists in conversation.

2. I nerdily (and smugly?) explained to my girlfriend that her tabletop Christmas tree will have to be taken down and packed up on January 5, no earlier, no later, and that the liturgical police will be watching. She saluted appropriately and went about her business.

3. I nerdily noticed this Christmas that Mathias wrote eighth-note ties rather than quarter notes in A Babe Is Born. I nerdily assert that he did this to show the compound meter, rather than allow the near-constant hemiolas to take over the counting. (How’s THAT for some nerdspeak!)

4. The Gleason nerd in me is desperate to be able to talk to Clyde Holloway once again, this time to tell him about this student of mine who has nailed the technique and the memorization regimen this semester without complaint and without error. My jaw dropped regularly in lessons this semester.

5. I nerd out regularly on Facebook, posting about organs that I call “handsome things.” A few of my friends say that they don’t understand those posts but that they love them and love commenting and reading comments.

6. Want to read some nerdspeak about the two handsome things I played this Christmas? Of course you do:

a. The organ at St. Luke’s Episcopal in Boone, NC, is a thirteen-stop Kney from 1995. The Great is 84Naz2Mix. The expressive Swell is 842Trc8. The Pedal is 1688. This handsome thing is in a perfectly stunning acoustical space. The floor is hardwood, and the pews are not upholstered. High, airy ceiling with wood trusses. Windows on all four walls, offering mountain views. The setting could not be more perfect for Holy Eucharist, especially with snow on the ground. But sometimes the organist nerd in me longs for an 8-foot Principal, a full Swell, and a bit more 16-foot tone. But that’s okay.

b. The 2014 Lively-Fulcher at St. Mary of the Hills Episcopal in Blowing Rock, NC, is the biggest two-manual organ Lively-Fulcher has put into such a small space. The room seats only about 150. The choir is only about 20 strong, but they make quite a seasoned, trained sound to overcome the acoustics. The room, though long and uncarpeted, is too low to have any resonance. The sound one hears is beautiful, even if it isn’t consistent throughout the space. The organ is a sumptuous treat to play. The Swell is 1688888844,Nas,2,Trc,M,16888. The Great borrows and duplexes a few things from that but adds its own 16888442M. The Pedal is nearly fully borrowed and duplexed but adds its own nice rumbly 16’ flue. And nerds, just look at all those 8-foots on the Swell!

7. Nerds, how many of us can sit down at an organ we haven’t played in a while but we still know where everything is on it? At St. Mary’s in Blowing Rock, I have to remember that toe stud Generals 7 and 8 have been mislabeled as 8 and 7, which has not been corrected because there would be wood glue removal involved. I also have to re-learn each time where the toe reversible for Great to Pedal is in comparison to Sequencer Next. Those are dangerously close together but on different rows on the bolster. Even now, sitting in an auto mechanic’s waiting room while writing this, I still can’t remember which is which. How’s THAT for some nerd-speak!