10,000 Hours

Surprising as it may seem, simply owning a fine AGO organ console does not a good organist make, all claims by the manufacturers aside. No matter how many beautiful stop keys, switches, and pistons, little musical sound will spontaneously erupt without some human intervention (MIDI recordings aside). To be fair, this is not a fact that organ manufacturers usually hide, but neither do they go out of their way to advertise it.

I do admit that I feel like a better organist seated at a better organ. And I enjoy practicing longer when there are inspiring stop sounds to select. Different registrations can make the same piece of music sound ghastly or sublime. My recent favorite is the Burea Church extended AGO sample set which I use with the free Grand Orgue software. But just having this organ setup sitting in my living room does nothing to improve my playing, especially if I am traveling and away from said living room as I was recently. My last organ lesson clearly demonstrated that.

Tempting as it is to spend my free time tweaking virtual organ configurations or converting analog organs to MIDI, the only thing I would have to show for that time would be a mechanical tool, an instrument capable of producing music, but only by someone who knew how to play it. Time spent practicing gives me something that cannot be taken away, something less susceptible to obsolescence and decay. The gift of music.

Malcom Gladwell in his best selling book "Outliers" describes some of the ingredients which produce truly exceptionally competent people. Be they musicians, airline pilots, or physicians, he asserts that an investment of at least 10,000 hours is necessary to truly excel at anything. And thinking about it, this number seems about right. That's about 3 hours a day for 9 years. A doctor does not graduate from university and start practicing immediately. A tennis star does not pick up a racket and win at Wimbledon the first year. The Beatles didn't start a band and instantly rise to stardom by performing to stadiums full of adoring fans. No, they spent years playing in small clubs in Berlin honing their skills before they were 'discovered'. I'm not sure they would have called their club playing 'practicing'. If you had asked, they probably would have told you 'trying to survive'.

But I thought it would be interesting to estimate how many hours I've spent practicing the organ, omitting past musical interests like piano, band, and choir participation. I started playing the organ about as soon as my feet could reach the pedals. I didn't care so much for the piano. Maybe it was just the loud piano we had a home, but I did not like sound of hammers banging on strings. It was a Baldwin Acrosonic. It probably should have been called a 'forte' rather than piano. Assuming that organ lessons started around age 13 and stopped when I graduated from high school at age 18, that's about 6 years. Assuming I practiced about 45 minutes every school day each of those years, by a very rough estimate I have put in about 832 hours of organ practice. That does not seem like very much, but it might even be a slightly high estimate. Of course it omits any time spent playing in church on the weekend, but that could probably be considered a negligible rounding error due to the fact that the majority of time in church services was spent with other people talking or simple hymn playing, not performing serious organ music. I was a bit surprised at how little cumulative time I had invested.

But the good news here is that there is hope! Maybe all that is needed is more practice time, as Bach said something to the effect that organ playing is easy if you work as hard at it as he did! If I can play as well as I can now with that little practice, just think what could happen if I spent 3 hours a day for 9 years? In fact, using Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 number, I only have an estimated 9168 hours to go, less whatever practice time I already put in over the last year and a half since purchasing this organ. That's just a bit over 8 years more to go!

I am reminded of something Nadia Boulanger once wistfully wrote regarding her failure to learn Russian: "Would it have really killed me to learn one word a day?"

Time for me to get serious about practicing! Maybe you too!

Transcription Prescription

I was listening www.organlive.com today and heard Thomas Murray's performance of Dvorak's Carnival Overture on the Yale Woolsey Hall Organ (Newberry Memorial Organ) which was just terrific enough for me to go to Amazon.com and buy the single MP3 for 99 cents. While you may or may not be a Dvorak fan, this hauntingly beautiful piece has a special place in my memories from high school days when I listened to an orchestral version over and over. Thomas Murray's registration on the Yale Skinner organ is really quite amazing. It has rather positively changed my opinion of the role of the organ in a convincing orchestral symphonic transcription for organ and has helped me understand the enthusiasm for such instruments which existed near the turn of the last century (1900's). Spec sheet for this organ here.

Speaking of transcriptions for organ, having recently watched the duly troubling DVD Troubled Water, complete with a prominent role for a pipe organist, I am convinced that there is a wide-open opportunity for contemporary pipe organ music that is neither stodgy nor dissonant. Music that, dare it be said, is serious yet modern without being stuffy. Perhaps even based on popular music.

Even if you aren't a friend of Dorothy or the Wizard of Oz, you'll probably like this version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow The subtle buildup towards the end is magical. Just goes to prove that one does not need a theater organ to play accessible music or a lot of pipes to make wonderful sounds (organ has just 8 ranks, 550 pipes only).

A recent pipe organ list mentioned Paul Ayre's Toccata on All You Need is Love (aka Toccata on Amor Satis Est) for organ. I couldn't find any YouTube performances of Ayre's Toccata online but I did find several interesting organ renditions of All You Need is Love. Here are a couple:
All You Need is Love (skip ahead to 01:00 on the time line where the music starts).
or an interesting home version:
All You Need is Love (probably a closer transcription to the original).

My interest picqued, I had to have Ayer's Toccata on All You Need Is Love and have now sight read it through twice. Or should I say stumblingly attempted to sight read it! Great fun and someday I will no doubt make it sound good enough to play in public! Not a transcription really, it can be said to be more or less loosely based on the original Beatles tune. Paul Ayer's Toccata feels a bit more difficult to play than In Dir Ist Freud (my previous major challenge, which by the way, I am relearning nearly from scratch now that I have a teacher to inform me that it is not cool to mix Bach and legato!) Registration looks like it will be key and it definitely needs a good pedal support. Get your own copy http://paulayres.co.uk/catalogue/243:

If you happen to be in Tennessee for the American Guild of Organists' National Convention Friday July 6, 2012, check out Jane Parker-Smith's two performances of Paul's Toccata (the Fab Four meet the symphonic French organ tradition). I heard her play at Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco last year and she is terrific, although I got the distinct impression either she or the Ruffati (probably the latter) were having a bad day. Her performance of Paul's Toccata will be at the Brentwood United Methodist Church, Tennessee (presumably in Brentwood).

Past is Prologue

I've been reading the fascinating Memoirs of a San Francisco Organ Builder by Louis Schoenstein. The book provides a very personal, albeit often non-chronological, look into the life of a very long lived bay area organ builder whose father, brother, and sons were also organ builders in a company which continues to bear their name (although not their ownership to the best of my knowledge). Although not a work of high literature, the book is still interesting from more than just an organ point of view. It is not often one is able to read a book published in 1977 which relates first hand recollections of the 1899 Naval celebrations on their return from the Philippines following the Spanish American war. Or recollections of the 1906 fires which ravaged San Francisco following the great earthquake (another due again sometime one must assume). Or of the author's boyhood memories of the tomb of a Unitarian preacher who helped convince civil war era 1860's San Francisco to side with the north. But just as importantly, it gives a no nonsense view of the pipe organ builder's trade.

Schoenstein's memoirs are divided into sections. The first part describes scores of organs which succumbed to the flames in 1906 and is something of a downer. The next deals with the mechanical workings of an orchestrion (a special interest of his father), and the section I am reading now is fascinating mainly in that it describes the many organs of the period that survived at least into the 1960's and possibly into the current day. My next project will be to actually see those organs that survived. More on this later hopefully.

Returning to the Beginning

Thanks to a tip from a fellow pipe organ list member, I learned just in time about a concert yesterday given by a very special organist. I must admit, I was not prepared for the pleasure of listening to Dorothy Young Riess, MD.

Her theme: Music of Joy. In a brief speaking part she mentioned that this was partly joy in just being able to stand up at her age! But you could tell it was more than that, probably joy at being able to return to the pleasure of music she experienced years before. If you have been reading here long, you know what I think about harsh, painful, bombastic, alienating organ music. There was none of that here. This program by Dr. Reiss was almost a complete opposite, although there were a few chords here and there from Langlais (Fete) and Messiaen (Transport de Joie) that might disturb an extremely sensitive church lady.

While composing this blog post, I initially thought to make comparisons: A young organist who gave up music to study medicine then returned much later to pick up where she left off. But the similarities ended there. She obviously came to earth brimming with far more gifts than most. Genes perhaps (both parents were musicians) but also perseverance. Maybe some of it is the swimming.

She went on to study composition with Nadia Boulanger and organ with Marcel Dupre. However, following "a series of life changing events" including the death of her father when she was 20, she changed course and eventually practiced internal medicine until her retirement in 2000, at which time she began playing the organ again at age 72.

At this concert it sounded as though she had played all her life. Now proudly 80 years old, there was nothing to give away her age in either her bearing or her vibrant performance. Pieces chosen included her own arrangement of the Shostakovich "Suite for Variety Orchestra" (complete with an ending 32' low C pedal note, which worked by the way) and Waltz 2, a delightful almost theater-organ-like piece famous from the film "Eyes Wide Shut". She ended her concert with the same Olivier Messiaen piece with which in 1952, 59 years ago to the day, she had won the AGO National Competition in San Francisco in this very same Berkeley building, although presumably a different organ given that this one was built in 2006.

As if to summarize her life, in her touching short comments she quoted the poem "...and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." [T.S. Eliot, "Four Quartets"]

Pipes

I've been enjoying my jOrgan virtual pipe organ setup. The jOrgan Puppy Linux computer hasn't been turned off since I last wrote about it, and it still works fine. I find myself using the Baroque and American Classic organ dispositions quite a lot. Because of the limited CPU power on that computer however, it can't handle software reverb internally, so I run the computer's soundcard audio out through an external stereo reverb unit, and from there to the Allen's internal amplifier which feeds the 9 speakers. The subwoofer actually sounds stronger with the jOrgan than with the Allen's internal 32 foot stops. Practice has been a bit sketchy the last couple weeks due to travel, business, and family celebrations. In fact, I wrote the first draft of this blog on the road. Unfortunately, my organ does not travel as well as my internet tablet. Hopefully a solution for that small problem will be found some day. Inflatable midi console and pedalboard anyone? Oh, and maybe I have been just a bit intimidated by the realization that I will never play as well as EPB, VF, MCE, OL, CC, or PJ. But I remind myself, it is not the destination, it is the journey.

Meanwhile, for more inspiration, I attended another concert at symphony hall by a very well known organist and pedagogue with the initials PJ. He was very relaxed and expertly performed what seemed like a too brief concert. His casual anecdotes, shared philosophy, and introductions to performance pieces compensated for what felt like an almost too technically perfect performance of a somewhat challenging program. And as for attire, he dared not deviate from the mandatory black suit except when he tossed his jacket off in order to play Reger's "wickedly difficult" Inferno wearing his shirt sleeves. Although the organ console was initially turned at a slight angle, he thoughtfully arranged to have it turned to an equal and opposite angle for the second half of the concert. This decision received applause when he mentioned deviating from the usual straight on back view. He commented that Liszt was one of the first to do this with the piano.

The most interesting pieces of the evening, aside from the toe-tapping The Gigue Fugue attributed questionably to Bach (BWV 577 - who says Bach couldn't write rock and roll?) were works composed by composers with whom the organist had personal connections. The opening piece, Fantasia for Organ by Weaver, one of his teachers, was breathtaking. Equal parts electronica, theater organ, and classic organ articulately and played with supreme confidence. A real crowd pleaser.

Another noteworthy piece was a West Coast premiere of Reverie by Wayne Oquin, a pianist colleague of his. In introducing this piece, the organist lamented the fact that many composers fear the organ. There is a tendency to find the piano a safe alternative. To compensate, PJ gave the composer free access to an organ. Apparently this was the composers first work for organ, but there was nothing to indicate this in the resulting piece, and one can only hope that this is an indication of more to come from Oquin. As the organist put it, "beauty is not icing on the cake, it is part of the cake" and "popular culture fills our stomachs with facts, but starves us of wonder". This piece was a welcome antidote. As the name implies, it was a dreamy expression of taking the time to contemplate beauty and the arts. Filled with a calliopic intro, birdlike flute solos over left hand chords, there were shades Messiaen. As the organist later commented, you could have heard a pin drop.

Readers of this blog may already have guessed my impression of Durufle. The dirge like, agonizing and child-scaring Durufle Suite for Organ, Opus 5 proved that PJ can play difficult pieces. But even Durufle apparently had little good to say about the Toccata. Enough said.

After extended applause, PJ returned to the console, indicating with an index finger that he would play one encore, and commenting "We haven't had enough Bach" and played Bach's Fugue in A-minor, if my distinctly non-Mozartian musical memory and subsequent comparisons with YouTube organ fugue recordings is reliable. I am not yet enough of a Bach connoisseur to play "name that tune" with Bach, so it is entirely possible that this was the G-minor fugue or some other equally unknown to me fugue, but the A-minor theme seems the closest to my ears. Whatever it was, bottom line, I liked it. If you were there and remember which it was, feel free to comment and enlighten me.

Notes Inégales

I recently took the opportunity to hear a well known french organist (with the initials O.L.) at Davies Symphony Hall. I leave out his name simply because I want to write freely and not concern myself with any possible impact on google searches for the artist.

One of my hesitancies about going to this particular concert was that several of the pieces on the program seemed too familiar, such as Schumann's "Study in A-flat major, Opus 56, No. 4". It seems as though everyone is playing that piece these days, and for good reason I might add. An incredibly lyrical piece and one of my favorites. But if I've heard it, probably everyone else has too. But maybe novelty is not the main reason to go to a concert. So I went anyway. Just hearing what is possible on the 5 manual Ruffati always seems to give me pleasure.

One of the most unique things about this concert, to my ears at least, was the way Bach's BWV 540 "Toccata and Fugue in F Major" was played. It sounded at first like the organist was having great difficulty with sticky keys. But they seemed to stick in a regular fashion, rhythmically tied to the beat, and therefore likely intentional. I had not heard this piece played that way before, but the organist seemed quite serious about his otherwise effortless playing. Then it dawned on me, perhaps these were the notes inégales (French for unequal notes) of the French baroque organ tradition. If so, it was worth the trip just to hear them played authentically. Not that Bach is French mind you. But it's hard to get more historically authentic than hearing someone who has studied with Gaston Litaize, a blind organist-composer who studied with Marcel Dupré and Louis Vierne and championed the notes inégales. Not that I plan to or could play this way, but this piece was simply one more reminder that notes on paper aren't intended for strictly mechanical interpretation. Viva la liberté!

Or more accurately, notes formerly on paper, because the entire concert was played by memory. The concert included pieces by Widor, Dupre, Alain, Langlais, Duruflé, and Litaize's playful "Scherzo". I'll never know the title of the familiar sounding encore, the person I asked afterward in the foyer did not know either, and seemed irritated that I should be so bold as to inquire.

One of the highlights of the evening was the organist's final improvisation on submitted themes. The only words spoken during the entire evening preceded his improvisation, and were something to the effect that "someone should be bringing them shortly", and soon after a distinguished gentleman walked on stage and handed him some paper presumably containing the three themes for the evening's improvisation. After glancing at them, and after what seemed like an extraordinary length of time and thoughtful setting up of new stop combinations, the organist played the three themes first in their simple elegance, and then with an introduction complete with spine chilling crashing chords. Now if my ears do not deceive, someone must have had a sense of humor. Three seemingly incongruous themes were submitted. "San Francisco", "Now Thank We All Our God" (or "Nun Danket alle Gott"), and "A Mighty Fortress". I must confess, for a good all over feeling I much prefer the simpler version of "San Francisco" played on the Castro Theatre organ prior to showtime. There, the music is a rousing, enthusiastic piece which makes everyone in the audience feel proud to live near the namesake city and builds anticipation of the movie to come. However, in Davies Hall that evening, the tune for "San Francisco" was accompanied by a martial rhythm, a near sinister snare-like pedal and chilling reeds sufficient to scare a small child. But the performance was mesmerizing anyway. I forgot that it was improvised until at one point I heard all three themes played simultaneously. The complexity of what was going on in the organist's mind boggles mine just to imagine. Then I had the kind of thought that makes me glad I attended. Wasn't Bach a great improviser too? And Beethoven? Perhaps the highest pinnacle, the greatest achievement, made possible by years of study and practice, is not to reproduce another composer's works flawlessly, but to be able to improvise like this. Viva la virtuosity!

Virtual Pipe Organ

The future of digital organs is PC based. I mean PC in the inclusive sense of Windows, Linux, or Mac personal computers which have nearly become commodity items these days. Follow the money, custom software and hardware cannot keep pace with consumer electronics economy of scale. For some time, there has been a commercial virtual pipe organ (VPO) software application called Hauptwerk, and it is pretty much the state of the art as far as VPO's go. But it also has a state of the art price tag, even though there is a free limited version you can use. If you are building a $100,000 church organ, that is the software to use probably. It can even actuate electromagnetic stop tabs. Check it out, I'm sure you will be impressed.

On the other hand, for a few years, there has been a free alternative with which I am just starting to become familiar. It's called jOrgan and it works on PC, Linux, or Mac (under Java Runtime Environment or JRE). The coolest part is jOrgan is open source, and thus nearly obsolescence proof, and jOrgan only stands to get more capable with time. This is a pretty amazing piece of software, and for some time I have been wanting to install it and take it for a test drive. This week I did.

The Windows XP install is a breeze. Download the executable, install, and start playing the virtual keyboard. I do not plan to configure it further because my Windows computer is not close enough to my organ MIDI controller console to use it easily. Instead, I decided to build a jOrgan Virtual Pipe Organ using entirely free software. I started out with a Pentium 1.7Ghz CPU with 768mb RAM (maxed out memory for this aging Hewlett Packard) into which I had installed an M-Audio Audiophile 24/96 audio card (which allows hardware MIDI control via a serial port and has excellent quality stereo output). Then I wiped the drive with some software called Darik's Boot and Nuke (DBAN), which is intended to make a hard drive safe to sell on ebay without worrying that someone will obtain your financial data. In my case, the purpose was to make sure it was a completely clean install. Then following the incredibly detailed step-by-step instructions written out for me on the jOrgan Forum, I was able to install Puppy Linux 5.1.1, a very lightweight and free operating system. Then the Java Runtime Environment (JRE), and finally jOrgan. It took some time alright, which is why I waited until the weekend to tackle it without rushing, but it really wasn't hard. It is quite surprising to me how far this little Puppy distribution of Linux has come with regard to ease of use.

Wow! What fun! With jOrgan, given enough time and effort and access to the right equipment, you can create your own virtual pipe organ to emulate an actual pipe organ. Fortunately, others have made several already, so you don't have to, but it's nice to know we can. The sound is very realistic, even allows adjustment of tracker sounds and wind noise, as well as chiff. Even on my very modestly powered computer, there was no appreciable lag. In fact there was probably significantly less than there is on a real pipe organ, but it's been a long time since I've played a real pipe organ so I can't really judge that. All I know is when I hooked it up to my portable keyboard for testing it did not play tricks with my brain like some high latency MIDI apps have done before.

I'm playing the sounds dry, but it is possible to add convolution reverb. That will be my next project, but for now, I'm just enjoying the sounds of pipes. Or virtual pipes if you insist.

Makes me want to hurry up and convert those old analog Rodgers organs to MIDI so they sound this good. If you want to know more, check out the jOrgan website and forum.

Pseudo Pipes in a Cathedral and Perfect Practice

I recently attended a concert by a well known organist at Grace Cathedral. Because their pipe organ is undergoing some kind of rejuvenation, a Rodgers electronic organ has been installed in the rear of the cathedral, the console tucked out of sight with huge speakers cleverly camouflaged as...well...er...speakers with cathedral concrete colored speaker cloth. It was interesting to compare the sound of the digital organ with that of my memory of the pipe organ in the same cathedral. I have come to the conclusion that I may not be such a big fan of cathedral acoustics for organ music after all. The primordial mush soup of sound that I had previously attributed to the Aeolian Skinner seemed to also permeate the Rodgers even more so. Perhaps it was my ears that day, but it just didn't seem clear. Moving further away actually made things better, probably a psychological effect as the sound was more consistent with my expectations towards the the center of the cathedral compared to up close to the sound source where it seemed as though it should have been more clear. I even wondered if they were using digital reverb in addition to the amazing natural reverberations of the cathedral.

I've started reading a book by called Practicing by Glenn Kurtz. It has nothing and everything to do with my return to playing the organ. Technically, it is a book about classical guitar. But so far I am fascinated by the author's poetic way of romanticizing the whole process of preparing to practice and the actual practice session as a zen like experience. It reminds me of an only partly forgetten essay I once read entitled "How to Write a Poem". The essay described setting the lighting and candles, even the music perhaps. By the end of the essay I could practically hear the crackling of the fireplace fire and feel the cozy blankets in which the author snuggled while writing poetry. Nothing was said about rhythm and meter, but you just knew that something really remarkable would have to come from such a state of mind induced by an environment so conducive to pleasure and poetry. But I digress.

As I look back on this last year, I've often wondered how to properly practice for maximum effectiveness. What is the most time efficient and enjoyable method to learn a new piece for example? I've gathered tid bits here and there, mainly online. So far here is my how to list. I'd love to hear more ideas:

Practicing at a home organ is best for me for many reasons. I like the comfortable temperature, convenience, lack of undue external pressure or distraction of being at home. But I would settle for a convenient nearby pipe organ if necessary.

If I have to be somewhere afterwards at a certain time, I set an alarm at the beginning of the session so I don't have to continually worry about it or check my watch. About 45-60 minutes works for me, I wish it could be longer many days.

I put on my organ shoes. I've changed from preferring quick slip on jazz shoes to preferring lace up OrganMasters (Capezio's are similar but without the suede soles). I liked the convenience of slip ons, but they began to stretch out a little, or the elastic weakened, and I felt less secure with them, especially with the extra heel height I had added. And I'd like to try some shoes with an even higher heel. But that's a whole nuther topic and not really necessary at this point.

Practice usually feels most comfortable for me when no one else is around because there is less pressure to perform or muddle through instead of stopping short and fixing minor glitches. A casual non-musical listener may not notice when I goof up, but I do, so now is the time to stop and work on it. And I feel more confident to tackle more difficult pieces if no one is listening but me. But I don't avoid practicing just because someone is there. Chances are they are not listening anyway, and with any luck they will enjoy the sound of music under construction.

1) I start out with some exercises - pedaling, finger limbering, perhaps something from a technique book?

2) I then revise a familiar piece, perhaps refresh a memorized piece to build my confidence. I stop, back up, and get a running start at any rough sections and repeat until played as perfectly as I can or at least without major mistakes. I don't go obsess about it, I just try to lay down some good neural pathways and always end a piece on a good note so next session I won't have the same problems.

3) Then I may work on a newer piece. I always try to work from a scanned PDF so my original is not damaged and I can mark fingering and pedaling without guilt:
a) Mark the pedaling
b) Mark the phrasing & workable fingering (I try to do this BEFORE I learn the piece incorrectly - I'm not too good at remembering the phrasing bit)
c) Practice a few measures of the pedals
d) Practice a few measures of the left hand
e) Practice a few measures of the right hand
f) Practice a few measures of Pedal and Left hand
g) Practice a few measures of Pedal and Right hand
h) Practice a few measures of Left and Right hand
i) Practice a few measures of Pedal, Left, and Right hand

Repeat watching for proper phasing (clearly repeated notes vs. legato lines)

Repeat for next few measures, then combine until the practice session has expired or nearly so (probably at least 45-60 minutes is a good stretch - if I have more time I do this I might repeat twice daily with a break, music organ majors & professionals reportedly must put in 4+ hours per day - I can't or at least choose not to do that now). It is amazing how fast the practice session time goes, and how long it takes to learn some new pieces well. At least that is my perception.

If I am trying to memorize something, I prefer to do it before exercising or going to sleep. I believe it helps long term memory storage.

If there is time - I do some simple improvising for pleasure or sight reading some new pieces for inspiration.

That's my ideal session. Doesn't happen every day, and I'm sure it is not the perfect practice method, but it's the best I can come up with on short notice. I always try to keep in mind the goal - musical pleasure before perfection.

Ideas welcome.

Second thoughts on Listening to Organ Music

Some might say that the solution to the relative unpopularity of the organ in the US includes 1) more advertising and 2) just keep listening longer (from GABISOMA, the Grin and Bear It School of Organ Music Appreciation). Even if you don't like it at first, you'll learn to appreciate it later. The first idea is to lure unsuspecting people in, the latter, to allow one's own tastes to broaden. Which is all well and good in what it affirms. I have often wished I had heard about a concert before it happened rather than after. But to paraphrase a college professor, these solutions are wrong in what they deny, which is that there is anything out of line in the organ world.

A recent thread on a pipe organ list even questioned whether it was unacceptable to walk out on an unenjoyed organ concert. For the record, I think this is more than perfectly acceptable, it is desirable and a healthy way to promote more enjoyable concerts in the future provided it does not interfere with the pleasure of those remaining. But I have never done it for fear I might miss something really great coming up afterwards. That said, subsequent list posts completely missed the point regarding one key reason to leave a concert. Most of the comments obsessed on the technical skills and perfection of the performance, rather than the emotional content of the music (or lack thereof). Were Bach's improvisations all note perfect of something written 200 years previous to his performance? Was he thinking about phrasing and articulation to the exclusion of emotional content? Did he mature and develop his style to fit the current trends and needs of his church or endlessly try to perfect his Vivaldi and Telemann performance?

Incidentally, this reminds me of the time I happened to mention that I refuse to learn any piece of music I don't like. Period. Full stop. End of story. What would be the point of learning to play something you dislike or are even lukewarm about? It would only create distaste for the instrument and the music. This apparently remarkably independent thought came across as quite a novel concept indeed, and one organist reader even volunteered that he had never once been asked what music he would like to learn! The rationale supposedly is that learning to play music you don't care for will accustom you to it to such a degree that, as with a poor quality pop tune played incessantly on the radio, you will eventually develop some kind of fondness for it. But is it this self-denial, this kind of alienation of one's one thoughts, emotions, and desires, that has helped to create a repertoire seemingly of marginal interest or attractiveness to the general public? It is simply inexcusable in this modern age of digital recordings not to allow the student to listen to and learn music that appeals to him or her.

I refuse to wear a hair shirt or enjoy self-crucifixion to enjoy music! I'm not talking about dumbing music down or playing show tunes on the organ (no offense to my theater organist friends, if any should incorrectly suspect that I was specifically referring to that genre). No, I'm talking about focusing less on the liturgy and religious trappings of the classic concert organ and more on the sensual beauty, peace, voluptuous rapture that can come from great art.

By way of example of what I consider a reasonably good combination of good taste and accessibility (apparently that's the term for what I'm promoting), I just recently received an organ CD not-coincidentally by the same organist who recorded the Durufle of my previous blog post. In my mind this second CD goes a long ways towards mitigating the effects of certain more alienating types of organ music. It's called "In A Quiet Cathedral" and I highly recommend it, not for the recording quality (it seems to have a slight very low rumble on my system) but for the pure listening pleasure it gives. Pity the concept for the album had to come from a pianist.

Evening Thoughts on Listening to the Complete Organ Works of Duruflé

Have you listened to a music box album recently? Mechanical perfection, charming, delightful, but not exactly emotion stirring. And not what I'm going to write about today.

In the medical field there is a concept of "publication bias". This is the intuitive notion that ideas, hypotheses, and research studies will be more likely to be published if they fit the needs of the organization footing the bill. In the case of pharmaceuticals, for example, a study which doesn't show a particular drug in the most favorable light will be swept under a rug somewhere and never see the light of day, unless some outside agency was involved and has control of the study. The same can be said of other media, including online forums and email lists, to greater or lesser degree. Organ lists are composed of individuals heavily invested in the status quo and detest any variance. Hence this post. On my own private blog, or as close to my own as Google will allow. He who pays the piper usually calls the tune.

Which got me thinking. Why are the tunes played on the organ still largely the same in overall tone and emotional impact today as 50-200 years ago? Then they were financed by the church or the aristocracy. Could this be one reason the average man on the street cannot relate to organ music? The other day a post on a popular pipe organ email list in the midst of yet another pity party over the perceived lack of popularity of the pipe organ pointed out differences from the past. There used to be a cultural or aristocratic elite who could afford to subsidize the fine arts, and the lack of that patronage system today was a prime reason for the decline in interest in careers in music, most specifically organ music. For the record, many U.S. symphony orchestras struggle to make ends meet, and rely on generous corporate grants and private philanthropic funds to keep ticket prices just below the stratosphere. And it seems some would have us believe that symphonies have become less adventurous in their programming so as not to offend the middle class concert goer. That average bloke who would prefer not to be surprised with anything dissonant or new. This blog isn't about symphonies, so I won't debunk all the assumptions in the above statements, but you get the idea. Funding has crippled creativity and dumbed down classical music, or so the story goes. It seems that the lack of an aristocracy or other system to support the gifted organists strongly favors pop or other styles of music because of this 'defect'. But is this really a defect?

On a whim the other day I purchased Todd Wilson's CD of the complete works of Duruflé. According to Henderson's Dictionary of Composers for Organ (an amazingly comprehensive Who's Who of the organ composer world by the way), Duruflé was born in France January 11, 1902. He died in Paris in 1986, but stopped performing after his car accident in 1975. Therefore arguably, Duruflé is a modern composer for the organ. Yet listening through the 69 minutes and 13 seconds of his complete works this evening, I was immediately struck by a recurring emotional theme which could have come from any previous time in history: Mystery and awesome power. The kind of mystery in a horror film. The kind of mystery in the dramatic organ chords of Phantom of the Opera. The kind of mystery in a spooky movie. The dramatic thundering pedal notes of some kind of terrible disaster flick. Or to inspire awe and respect for an aristocratic or religious institution.

I reflected back on the organ concerts I have attended over my life, and with a few notable exceptions, I quickly noticed that this was not really an aberration. The organ seems tailor made to awe and intimidate it seems. To inspire respect and admiration for the ruling class, or the ruling religion, and possibly as a stand in substitute for holiness. Organ historians have documented a period of ever increasing air pressures used even in secular organs. Perhaps this trend is not hurt much by the organist's ego. Perhaps this is even one reason I was attracted to it. What better way to really strut your stuff than to really scare the dickens out of the birds in the rafters? That'll show them who's boss. It's hard to argue when you play the 'king of instruments'. Maybe the audience will be scared enough to be impressed or at least get a shiver up their spine. More or less a cathedral version of the ghetto car boombox which vibrates houses for two blocks around. But is this music?

Which got me thinking again. Unless we are planning on moving back into the feudal system, or a religious theocracy, perhaps the middle class which is now driving popular culture is not all that far off track. They aren't impressed with being impressed, and maybe, just maybe, they can't relate to music designed to inspire reverence and awe for a monarch or even a earthly appointed religious representative of the deity. Maybe the average Jane or Joe considers it just a bit off-putting, to say the least.

Maybe I'm off base here, but I would venture a guess that the music that really touches you does so because it reaches out and accepts you, it strikes a familiar and welcoming jacket around you and makes you feel at home. It says "I've felt that way too, why don't you hum along with me as we think back to that time when...". It doesn't slap you in the face or creep you out.

Maybe, the general public that doesn't currently have a CD of Durufle' running in their auto's CD player day in and day out is no more attracted to organ music than you are to listening to mechanical music box recordings, and for similar reasons. Maybe what we need is a combination of a completely reworked repertoire including completely new compositions and a neo-Leonard Bernstein's Young Person's Guide to the Organ for PBS.