Aeolian-Skinner Organs in Morningside Heights, New York City

This article, originally titled Regal Instruments in the Neighborhood, was published in Poco a Poco, the Manhattan School of Music bi-weekly student newsletter, on September 2, 1992.  At the time it was the custom for doctoral students to write feature articles each week.

Copyright  © 1992 Neal Campbell

As with other facets of our culture, a rather complete history of the art and science of organ-building in American can be traced by studying the organs placed in auditoriums and houses of worship in New York City. Virtually every style and era of organ-building, both foreign and domestic, can be found in our city, dating back to the earliest time of the new colony, when an organ from England was placed in Trinity Church at Wall Street, to elaborate electronic substitutes such as the one installed in Carnegie Hall several years ago, to the retrospective baroque replica in Alice Tully Hall.  One important and uniquely American style of organ-building began to emerge in the early 20^th century, and this style is also well represented in New York City, and specifically so in our neighborhood here in Morningside Heights.

Ernest M. Skinner

Ernest M. Skinner (1866-1960) established his own organ-building firm in Boston in 1901, after serving an apprenticeship in several other New England firms.  In the early days of electricity, Skinner developed a new type of electric action that was reliable and allowed divisions of the organ to be placed at distant parts of the room.  These divisions were connected to a console by means of various electronic linkages.  (Keep in mind  that before the advent of electricity, keyboards were connected to the pipe chests mechanically.  This type of playing action is known as tracker action, or mechanical action.)  Skinner, who loved the symphonic and operatic literature, also developed several imitative and evocative stops which yielded beautiful special effects that were popular with the public.  Such voices as the English horn, French horn, flauto mirabilis, corno di bassetto, and Erzähler became standard in the Skinner tonal palette.  Skinner’s early success in securing large contracts for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and St. Thomas Church on Fifth Avenue assured him a commercial success from the start.  From this point onward, the firm built organs for the most prominent churches, cathedrals, concerts halls, and educational institutions.  A look at the Skinner opus list reads like a Who’s Who of important institutions in this country, and this near monopoly continued until the company went out of business in 1973.

G. Donald Harrison in an Aeolian-Skinner brochure.

In late 1927 the Skinner Organ Company took into its organization a young man from England named G. Donald Harrison (1889-1956).  Harrison had been a director of the venerable English organ-building firm of Willis and Sons.  In reaction to the orchestral organs popular at the time, with their collections of soft color stops and predominance of heavy fundamental tone (all of which were characteristic of the standard Skinner ensemble), Harrison soon became interested in building organs along more classical lines.  Scholarship had increased between the two world wars, and several leading American organists had traveled to Europe to see and hear the organs of the historic French and German schools.  This had a tremendous impact on Harrison in his desire to produce a unique American organ that would combine elements of the important historical periods with existing Skinner trademarks, such as the beautiful imitative sounds and the reliable electro-pneumatic action.  By the 1930s Harrison’s eclectic organs were gaining favor, and many important contracts came to the Skinner Company with specific instructions that the organs be designed by Harrison.  Naturally, friction developed between Skinner, who had never altered his ideas of tone, and the progressive Harrison.  Ultimately Skinner left the firm and, with varying degrees of success, tried to operate from other headquarters.  In the mid-1930s the Skinner Company purchased the residence organ division of the Aeolian Company, and the firm was known afterward as the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company until it ceased operation in 1973.[1]  During its history the company produced about 1,400 organs—not so many when compared with some of the more commercial builders.  Continuing interest in these American organs and their prominent locations attest to their superior artistic and technical properties.

St. Paul's Chapel, Columbia University

In our immediate neighborhood, there exist four rather important organs designed by Harrison at different periods of his work.  The oldest of these four is in St. Paul’s Chapel of Columbia University.  This organ, Opus 985, dates from 1938 and was among the first of Harrison’s organs to take on the new classic style.  It contains two unenclosed baroque divisions on either side of the wide chancel, together with an appropriately developed pedal division to match—essential to playing trio sonatas in particular and contrapuntal music in general.  The organ has remained virtually unchanged except for some additions in the dome of the chapel, which Aeolian-Skinner added in the 1960s.[2]  Many of the leading organists of the world, including E. Power Biggs, played and recorded on the Chapel organ, and the instrument represented a turning point in the visibility of the new type of “American Classic” organ, as this style had by then come to be known.  Before the student riots in the late 1960s, there was an elaborate chapel music program, led by Searle Wright, that featured a large choir of students, faculty, staff, and community members, and their performances of innovative repertoire included many premieres.  Today there are frequent recitals in the chapel by students and visiting artists and a variety of concerts and symposia, even though the university no longer sponsors an active chapel music program.

The organ in our own Hubbard Hall[3] is Aeolian-Skinner’s opus 1272, from 1952.  At that time, of course, our building was the home of the Juilliard School of Music.  The Hubbard Hall organ was obviously designed with studio teaching and practice in mind.  The forward location across the front of the stage insures a clear line of sound, and the three manual and pedal divisions contain appropriate stops and ensembles for the convincing performance of a wide range of literature.  This organ has gone through several stages of damage and repair, but as it stands it is essentially the same as it was conceived, and it represents a continuation of the Aeolian-Skinner tradition of placing instruments in major American conservatories.  Aeolian-Skinner organs are also located in the Curtis Institute, Peabody Conservatory, the Eastman School of Music, and Westminster Choir College.

Aeolian-Skinner Organ, opus 1272, in Hubbard Hall, Manhattan School of Music (formerly Juilliard School of Music)

The organ in the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine is truly one of the great organs of the world.  As opus 150, it was one of Ernest Skinner’s early successes dating from 1910, and much of what he did there, particularly the mechanism, remains unchanged to this day. In 1953 the organ was rebuilt by G. Donald Harrison as opus 150-A, and much of the old pipework was replaced.

At the time of the original organ, the nave had not yet been constructed.  The vast space facilitated by the new nave, which opened in 1941, together with changing musical tastes necessitated a complete rethinking of the needs of the Cathedral organ.  Its main function, in accordance with the purpose of English cathedral organs, was to accompany daily choral services, an activity requiring great flexibility and range of tone.  It also had to have sufficient power to lead the occasional singing of a vast throng and to provide ceremonial effects inherent in the liturgy of so great a space.

The State Trumpet under the west rose window, Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

Harrison drew on his past experience, repeating features from the design of the Liverpool Cathedral organ, which Willis had completed in 1924.  Liverpool Cathedral is almost as large as St. John the Divine, and many unique techniques in scaling and voicing were used in both places.  For example, the ranks of pipes are sometimes doubled or even tripled in the upper octaves to create a solid, even tone as the scale ascends.  One of the most dramatic innovations is the installation of the State Trumpet on the west wall under the great rose window, some 500-plus feet from the main organ.  This stop is voiced on extremely high wind pressure and it provides a telling presence for ceremonial occasions.  The organ, although awaiting a major restoration[4], remains in its 1953 state, and it is a lasting monument to American organ-building at its best in the first half of the 20^th century.

St. John the Divine has been the scene of many important events—religious, civic, and musical.  Much of the organ music of Olivier Messiaen was heard there in its first American performances, and within a week of Messiaen’s death last May, Jon Gillock of the Juilliard faculty, who had been a student of Messiaen, played the complete Livre du Saint Sacrement as a memorial.  There are weekly organ meditations /recitals on Sunday evening following Vespers at 7:00 p.m.

Console of the new Aeolian-Skinner Organ, in the chancel of The Riverside Church, 1955.

The organ in The Riverside Church is another story completely.  It stands as one of the largest ever built by Aeolian-Skinner and is one of only four built by the company containing five manuals.  (The other three are in the Mormon Tabernacle, St. Bartholomew’s Church on Park Avenue, and the Curtis Institute of Music.)  the original organ for the new Rockefeller Church in 1930 was built by Hook & Hastings, a well-respected firm in the late 19^th century.  By all accounts, however, the organ was never a success, either tonally or mechanically.  Virgil Fox, the popular, flamboyant virtuoso, was organist from 1946 to 1965, and he frequently fielded mechanical mishaps in imaginative ways which ensured that the full congregation of worshippers was made well aware of the organ’s inadequacies.  The new five-manual console was built first in 1948 as opus 1118, and a complete new organ was finished in 1955 as opus 1118-B.  Much of the design was dictated by Fox.  As a result, the organ was not so much a monument to Harrison’s current thinking as it was to Fox’s lavish sense of the grand symphonic style, accented by his particular flair for the dramatic.  The organ is unusually large and has gallery as well as chancel divisions.  It also used portions of the old organ.  While the Riverside organ incorporated Harrison’s basic concepts of the American Classic style throughout its divisions, it was first and foremost a “deluxe” church organ tailor-made to suit Fox’s dramatic style of service playing.  Through his concerts, oratorio accompaniments, and recordings, the organ became famous.

A publicity photograph of Virgil Fox at the console of the Riverside organ.

In 1967 the organ received a major renovation, and several stops have been added since then, including visible pipework in the gallery.  (Initially, church architects and officials had decreed that no pipework be visible in the church.)  There are frequent recitals and musical events at the church throughout the year, and many of the world’s best-known organists have performed there.  The past two organists of the church have been faculty members at MSM, and many of our students play their degree recitals there.

The chancel and a portion of the nave of The Riverside Church from an article in Life magazine, December 20, 1937.

It would be a mistake to suggest that these four organs are the most important in the city, but they do represent high watermarks in the history of a company that at one time was preeminent in the history of American organ-building.

For the intrepid organ-crawler, there are other interesting organs nearby.  James Chapel of Union Theological Seminary houses a fairly new tracker action organ built by Holtkamp.  An older Holtkamp is in Corpus Christi Roman Catholic Church on 121^st Street.  Also at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine are two two-manual Aeolian-Skinner organs in the side chapels, and there is a three-manual Ernest Skinner organ in the Synod Hall at 110^th Street and Amsterdam Avenue (across from V & T Pizza).  The organs in St. Michael’s Church at 99^th Street and Amsterdam Avenue are arguably the best mechanical action organs in the city.  A rather complete three-manual organ is located in the gallery and a small one-manual instrument is in the chapel.  Both organs were built in the mid-1960s by Rudolf von Beckerath of Hamburg, Germany.

Incidentally, the chancel and chapel of St. Michael’s contain the most extensive array of appointments by Louis Tiffany in existence.  Decorating schemes, windows, and mosaics throughout are executed by this renowned artist.

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[1] In an email message to me dated April 14, 2012,  Allen Kinzey, who worked for Aeolian-Skinner for many years, tells the exact scenario:

On January 2, 1932 the Aeolian Company and the Skinner Organ Company formed a new, third company called the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company.  Aeolian owned 40% of the stock in Aeolian-Skinner, and the Skinner Organ Company owned 60%.

Aeolian closed its operations in Garwood, New Jersey, and sent uncompleted contracts, the glue press, some material, and one employee (Frances Brown, who was a young lady then, and she worked for A-S to the end, or almost the end) to Aeolian-Skinner.  The Skinner Organ Company deeded its property and turned over contracts, employees, materials, machinery, etc. to Aeolian-Skinner.

I assume Aeolian was hurt more by the depression as much of their work was residential. Therefore, they owned a lesser percent of Aeolian-Skinner.  Skinner Organ Company continued on.  Its sole purpose would have been as a holding company.

In Callahan’s The American Classic Organ [Richmond: OHS, 1990] on page 233 is a letter from GDH to Willis. I have always assumed that the third paragraph referred to buying out Aeolian’s stock. The $110,000 was about the value Aeolian put in its financial statement of its Aeolian-Skinner stock. “During the war —” would coincide with the 1943-44 ending of Aeolian’s listing of Aeolian-Skinner stock in its financial report and the end of Skinner Organ Company appearing in Moody’s. When Aeolian’s stock was purchased, there was no longer any purpose for Skinner Organ Company.

[2]  An email from Allen Kinzey to me dated April 15, 2012, tells the exact work that was done on the organ as opus 985-B under the direction of Searle Wright:

Choir Organ

new 8 Flauto Dolce in place of 8 Dulciana

new 8 Flute Celeste tc in place of 8 Unda Maris

new 8 Viola from 4′C up with existing basses rescaled

revoice 8 Concert Flute 2′C up

new 4 Prestant in place of 4 Fugara

4 Musette = old Orchestral Oboe moved down an octave

 Swell Organ

8 Aeoline = old Choir Dulciana in place of 8 Diapason

4 Fugara          } = old Choir Fugara on new chest

2 2/3 Nazard   }    [tuned as a Nazard]

revoice 8 Hautbois

add 8 Vox Humana (Dome)

Brustwerk

new 8 Spitzgeigen in place of 8 Muted Viol

new 4 Montre on new chest

 Pedal Organ

 16 Montre        }  extension of Brustwerk 4 Montre

  8 Montre        }  low 18 from existing facade pipes, rest new on new chest

add 16 Bombarde (Sw)

add   8 Solo Trumpet (Dome)

add 32 Bombarde        } low 12 notes electronic

add 32 Bourdon           } speakers located in the dome

 Dome Organ – on Manual IV, enclosed (shades coupable to Swell and Choir shoes)

 16 Solo Trumpet  tc     } 

  8 Solo Trumpet         }  new pipes on new chest

  4 Solo Trumpet         }

8 Vox Humana new pipes on new chest

 Robert Turner built a new four-manual console which was installed in 1997.

[3] Now Greenfield Hall; the organ no longer exists.

[4] Quimby Pipe Organs of Warrensburg, Missouri, completed a major renovation in 2009.

Beethoven: The First Romantic Pianist

This article was published in the Musical Heritage Review, a booklet accompanying Musical Heritage Society’s Release 308 (Beethoven’s piano concertos) in 1983.  I wrote it while I was a student at Manhattan School of Music. 

Copyright © 1983 Musical Heritage Society

Ludwig van Beethoven was the foremost piano virtuoso of his time, a virtuoso who captured the attention of the Viennese public like no other pianist before him, and like no pianist would until Franz Liszt.

Beethoven’s playing was so revolutionary that accounts of his improvisations are almost embarrassing in their superlative language with talk of audible gasps, weeping, and sobbing throughout the performance.  Beethoven generally was unimpressed with such profound emoting, and scolded his audience for letting their feeling take hold so easily.  He often would take advantage of their vulnerability by intentionally juxtaposing quiet, sensitive moments with startling passages of savage power that obliterated the preceding tranquil section.

So many surviving accounts of his playing tell of broken hammers and snapped strings as a result of his overwhelming power and intensity that we must assume that most of it is true, particularly in light of the rather fragile nature of the instruments when compared to the modern piano.

It is impossible to describe what a Beethoven improvisation was like, but the opening of the Choral Fantasy and several of the cadenzas that he wrote for his own concerti can serve as reasonable clues.  J. B. Cramer told his pupils that nobody could say  he had ever heard improvisation if he had not heard Beethoven.  Czerny said “apart from the beauty and originality of his ideas, and his ingenious manner of expressing them, there was something magical about his playing.”  To Ignaz von Seyfried they were “a cataract, elemental, a force of nature.”

In almost all writings about Beethoven’s improvisation, the term “fiery” is used.  Many stories abound, but to put it most succinctly, in the words of Harold C. Schoenberg, “In many things, Beethoven was ahead of his time, and so was his piano playing.  It had unprecedented power, personality, and emotional appeal.  In many respects he can be considered the first romantic pianist: the one who broke all of the laws in the name of expression; the one who thought orchestrally and achieved orchestral effects on the piano.”

As a pianist, Beethoven was largely self-taught.  As a child, his teachers were not professional pianists who would instill in him an extreme reverence for the instrument itself.  His principal teacher in Bonn was Christian Gottlob Neefe, the court organist, who as it tuned out, was to have more influence on Beethoven than any of his other teachers.  Neefe insisted that the study of harmony, counterpoint, and composition be combined with the study of the organ.  His chief textbook was the Well-Tempered Clavier by J. S. Bach.  Keeping in mind that Bach had been dead just over a quarter of a century when young Beethoven began his study with Neefe, it should be remembered that the study of Bach was by no means the staple of the piano teachers’ sources that it is today.

Beethoven’s early mastery of the 48 preludes and fugues in all of the keys explains in part his readiness to utilize keys and key relationships that were unfamiliar (or downright revolutionary) to the classical audience.  In addition he was a formidable sight reader and transposer.  In actuality, he was a true musician first, and a pianist second, although it was as a pianist that he gained an entrée into the musical life of Vienna.

In this milieu the stage is set for the composition of the piano concerti, which were essentially vehicles for Beethoven to use his already well-known abilities as virtuoso to stimulate interest in his compositions.  Taken as a whole the five concerti form an interesting stylistic asymmetry.  the first two exhibit the obvious influence of Haydn and Mozart, although it should never be suggested that Beethoven at any time–early, middle, or late–sounded like anything but Beethoven.  From his earliest works, his individuality was clearly evident.  However, the interest in the classical forms indicate his reluctance to make the complete break with convention.

It is by now a well-known fact that the Concerto in B-flat, published as Op. 19, actually was written before the Concerto in C major, Op. 15.  It was at the rehearsal of the B-flat Concerto that the famous story is told of Beethoven, suffering with colic, barely finishing the score in time, arriving a the rehearsal room to find the piano a half tone lower than the instruments.  Without any hesitation, Beethoven transposed his part into the correctly sounding key.

The Third Concerto in C minor stands alone in the symmetry, being much more individualistic than the two preceding ones, but not so prophetic and forward-looking as the last two.  While the same general forms were used in the C minor, they are laced with innovations, such as the use of the piano along with the orchestra following the cadenza in the first movement, and the unexpected key of E major for the slow movement.

Concerning this slow movement, a further query regarding Beethoven’s pianistic playing is raised by Czerny, who states that in 1803 (when Beethoven could still hear and was in practice) he held the sustain pedal through the entire slow movement of the C minor Concerto.  Schoenberg comments, “Granted that Beethoven was using a light Viennese piano, in which the sustaining tones dissipated quickly, this still sounds like an incredible statement.  Could Beethoven have forgotten his pianistic ABCs under the stress of public performance and left his foot on the pedal.  But we do know that he was lavish in the use of it, as witness his own pedal markings at the opening of the D minor Sonata (Op. 31, No. 2).  Czerny says that Beethoven used the pedal ‘far more than is indicated in his works.’ “

In the last two concerti (No. 4 in G, Op. 58, and No. 5 in E-flat, Op. 73) are forward-looking and firmly lay the foundation for the great tradition of the romantic piano concerti by Liszt, Chopin, and Brahms.  The music explores the limits of tonality as they were understood and the contrast of many contradictory keys is prominent.

In the second movement of the G major Concerto there occurs a dialogue between piano and orchestra made famous by Liszt’s fanciful description comparing it to Orpheus taming the beasts of the underworld.  Whether or not Beethoven had any literary inspiration is doubtful, although we are certain that Beethoven was well read, as evidenced by a request of his publishers for, in addition to music, complete editions fo Goethe and Schiller, adding that “these two poets are my favorites, as are also Ossian and Homer, though unfortunately I can read the latter only in translations.”  The interest of the romantics with literature as basis for musical thought is one of the identifying traits of the romantic era, and Beethoven clearly can be seen as working on the  threshold of this concept, particularly through his use of chorus in the Ninth Symphony.

Two of the most obvious characteristics of the last two piano concerti concern the elision of the slow movement with the last movement.  In the case of the G major, this is implied; in the E-flat it is written out clearly.  The gradual reducing of the strictures of the movement barriers also can be clearly chronicled in Beethoven’s works for other mediums as well.  The most curious and unique point in all of the concerti occurs with the cadenza at the end of the first movement of the E-flat Concerto where Beethoven has written following the orchestral fermata on the usual second inversion chord: “Do not play a cadenza, but immediately proceed to the following.”  What follows begins like a coda and gradually increases to a final glorified recapitulation for piano and orchestra.  It is curious to surmise what prompted Beethoven to include this innovation here, knowing of his own extraordinary talent as an improviser.

We also know that he encouraged his students to improvise or compose their own cadenzas, with only a few suggestions from him.  The whole purpose of a cadenza was to provide the soloist with an opportunity to show his prowess unhindered by the orchestra.  It was expected that the cadenzas would vary in style, quality, and virtuosity according to the player.  Its is to be assumed that Beethoven was aiming for the ultimate goal of creating a vehicle for expression that emphasized the wholeness of piano and orchestra, as opposed to soloist-virtuoso versus orchestra.  As Marx wrote in his biography of Beethoven: “It is the composer’s secret task to overcome the ‘difficulty’ of the concerto form in the form itself through importance of the content.  The difficulty is that the task–to treat one instrument and its performance as the main issue and the incomparably richer and more important orchestra as a mere auxiliary–is really an artistic anomaly.”

Obituary: Edouard Nies-Berger

One of the great correlative benefits of my 21 years in Richmond, Va., was getting to know Edouard Nies-Berger.  He was in his early 80s when I arrived and I maintained a close friendship with him until the end of his life.  I attended his 85th birthday party, he played a recital at St. Stephen’s Church consisting entirely of the music of Marco Enrico Bossi, one of his teachers, and I was in the audience when he played a recital on his 90th birthday at St. Paul’s Church where he was organist emeritus.  I even called on him at his apartment in Colmar one summer.  I prepared the following obituary for The American Organist:

Schweitzer and Nies-Berger at the organ in St. Thomas Church in Strasbourg, 1959.

Edouard Nies-Berger, sometime organist of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra and protegé of and collaborator with Albert Schweitzer, died at his home in Richmond, Virginia, January 17, 2002, at age 98 following a brief illness.

He was born in Strasbourg in 1903 when that region was still part of the German empire.  At 15 he saw the French army reclaim the city and the surrounding provinces of Alsace and Lorraine.  In 1922 he came to New York at the age of 19 and remained in the United States professionally for the rest of his life, although for many years he maintained an apartment in Colmar.

He played in various churches and synagogues in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles.  During his Los Angeles years he found work in the movie studios and recorded the organ music for “The Bride of Frankenstein” and “Border Town.”  “They had me play Bach’s great Toccata in D minor while Karloff carried Elsa Lancaster to her execution” Nies-Berger told an interviewer for the Richmond Times-Dispatch in 1991.  “It was not my proudest moment artistically.”

Nies-Berger aspired to be a conductor, so in 1937 he left the United States for Salzburg where he studied with Bruno Walter and Rudolf Baumgartner.  He was preparing for his European conducting debut when the Nazis took over Salzburg.  He moved to Riga, Latvia, and from there to Brussels conducting opera and summer concerts.  Shortly after Hitler invaded Poland in 1939, Nies-Berger caught the last boat out of Rotterdam and returned to New York.

He kept his conducting dream alive for a few years in New York where he founded an orchestra comprised mainly of free-lance musicians.  These concerts were characterized by progressive programming, often featuring Nies-Berger conducting works for organ and orchestra from the console in Town Hall.  He earned the respect of Olin Downes writing in the New York Times.  T. Scott Buhrman, writing in The American Organist (no relation to the present day journal of the same name), was particularly effusive in his praise of Nies-Berger’s offerings. “But after renting the halls and paying the stagehands and hiring the musicians, there was no money left.  I had married and had a son.  It was time to be a responsible father” Nies-Berger acknowledged in the aforementioned interview.  In 1940 he moved to Richmond, Virginia, and to relative stability as the organist of Centenary Methodist Church.  Attempts to start a symphony orchestra in Richmond had recently failed, and Nies-Berger was frustrated in his attempts to organize musical groups in the city.  After only two years, he again returned to New York and began what turned out to be the most fruitful years of his career.

Arthur Rodzinski, the new conductor of the New York Philharmonic, tapped Nies-Berger to be the orchestra’s organist, a position he held for several years playing under such conductors as Walter, Szell, Reiner, Stokowski, and a young Leonard Bernstein.

Albert Schweitzer was a family friend when Edouard was growing up in Strasbourg.  His father and Schweitzer had been students together at Strasbourg University where they were each disciples of Professor Ernst Munch, leader of the Bach circle, and father of the conductor Charles Munch.  By the time Edouard moved to New York in 1942 , Schweitzer was established in his missionary work in Africa.  However, Schweitzer made a trip to the United States in 1949 where he and Nies-Berger were reunited.  “To meet Schweitzer again after so many years was a wonderful event for me” Nies-Berger recalled.

During his 1949 visit to America, Schweitzer visited the Aeolian-Skinner factory in Boston where he signed the console of the organ being built for Symphony Hall.

Their rekindled friendship culminated in a project that cemented Nies-Berger’s and Schweitzer’s association.  Schweitzer had collaborated with Widor in a new edition of Bach’s organ works, the first five volumes of which were published by Schirmer before Widor died and before the outbreak of World War II interrupted the project.  Schweitzer asked Nies-Berger to be his collaborator in the remaining three volumes which contained the chorale preludes.

“For the next six years, three or four months each summer, I went to Alsace or Africa to work with Schweitzer.  He made a little time every day for Bach.  It wasn’t easy–he’d won the [Nobel] Peace Prize already, and everybody in the world was after him for one thing or another.  He was too kind to say no.  To work with Schweitzer was almost like working with Bach.  To know him at such close range was the great spiritual experience of my life.  I have never thought the same, or made music the same way, after Schweitzer” said Nies-Berger.  For the rest of his life, he kept a plaster cast of Schweitzer’s hand on his piano.  By the time the project was finished in the 1960s, the Schirmer Widor-Schweitzer / Nies-Berger edition of Bach’s organ works represented the most current scholarship and was widely used by students and performers.

The demands of professional life in New York became more pressing and Nies-Berger left New York for the last time, as he moved again to Richmond to be the organist and choirmaster of St. Paul’s Church, where he served from 1960 until he retired in 1968.  In his retirement he continued to live in Richmond, but he usually spent at least half of the year in Colmar.  Much of his retirement time was spent writing treatises on music and philosophy, as well as a memoir about his time with Schweitzer.  After multiple rejections from American publishers the memoir (written in English, which by now Nies-Berger considered his primary language) was published in 1995 in a French translation titled Albert Schweitzer m’a dit as part of a series Memoire d’Alsace by the small French firm Editions La Nuee Bleue.  Rollin Smith has since prepared an English translation published by Pendragon Press.  Nies-Berger was also a composer with several published compositions to his credit, one of which, Resurrection: An Easter Fantasy, is still in print in an anthology published by H. W. Gray.

A memorial service, led by the Rev. Canon Robert G. Hetherington, Rector, was held on January 23, 2002, at St. Paul’s Church in Richmond.  Grant Hellmers was the organist, playing selections by Widor, Franck, and Bach.

Photograph of Nies-Berger which appeared in the Richmond Times-Dispatch on May 13, 2001, showing him with the plaster cast of Schweitzer's hands.

Obituary: Thomas Richner

This obituary appeared in the October 2008 issue of The American Organist and in the same month’s issue of The Diapason.

Thomas Richner, 96 years old, July 11, 2008, at his residence in Worcester, Mass.  A noted organist, pianist, educator, and composer, Mr. Richner was born in Point Marion, Pa., on November 4, 1911, and grew up in West Virginia.  He went to New York City to study piano with Dora Zaslavsky, and continued studies at Columbia University, where he earned the Ed.D. degree.  His friendship with Zaslavsky and her husband, the famous painter John Koch, continued throughout their lives.  Richner also studied in Germany with Helmut Walcha.

In 1940 Richner won the Naumburg Foundation Competition and began a significant career as a pianist and teacher, eventually teaching at Columbia, and later at Rutgers University.  His book Orientation for Interpreting Mozart’s Piano Sonatas, published in 1953, became a standard textbook and solidified his reputation as a “born Mozart player” in the words of The New York Times.

As the organist of Fifth Church of Christ, Scientist, in New York City, he collaborated with G. Donald Harrison in designing the rebuilding of and additions to the large Skinner organ.  Dr. Richner was later for 22 years the organist of The First Church of Christ, Scientist, the Mother Church, in Boston, commuting there on weekends while continuing his professorship at Rutgers.

He composed solos and organ pieces conceived for use in the Christian Science services and made several recordings as soloist and accompanist on the Mother Church organ, the largest built by the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company.  He also made many piano recordings, including works of Chopin, Mozart, Debussy, and a notable early recording of Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue.

He was the founder and, before his retirement, director of the Richner-Strong Church Music Institute at Colby College in Maine.  An observant Christian Scientist, he enjoyed life to the full, continuing to practice and play well into his 90s.  He leaves many friends to whom he was affectionately known as “Uncle T.”   In a 95th birthday interview with Lorenz Maycher published in the December 2005 issue of  The Diapason, he concludes, “I’m a big fan of that word L-O-V-E .  Love what you are doing, love your friends, love every note you are playing.”

–Neal Campbell

Uncle T at his house organ in Setauket, Long Island, with Neal Campbell and Charles Callahan, Summer 1992.

Obituary: William Watkins

The obituary for William Watkins, my organ teacher from 1967 to 1972, which was published in the November 2004 issue of The American Organist:

William Watkins, AAGO, 82 years old, June 17, 2004, at Washington Hospice in Washington, D. C., of acute respiratory failure.  An honorary life member of all three Washington-area AGO chapters, Mr. Watkins was director of music and organist at Georgetown Presbyterian Church in Washington, D. C., from 1956 to 1997.  He held the position of director of music emeritus until his death.  William Watkins was born and raised in Danville, Va.  He began his academic music studies in 1941 at the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore, Md.  After a break in his studies, when he served as a chaplain’s assistant in the U. S. Army, he returned to Peabody, where he was a pupil of Virgil Fox.  There he received the artist’s diploma, at that time awarded to only 18 students in the history of the conservatory, which was founded in 1888.

While a student in Baltimore, he held his first church position at Washington’s First Congregational Church in 1945.  In 1948 he became organist at Washington’s New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, sharing his tenure with the well-known Scottish minister Peter Marshall, during which time large crowds filled the church at Sunday morning and evening services for the exceptional preaching and music.  During his eight years there he collaborated with G. Donald Harrison and Joseph S. Whiteford in rebuilding the church’s Skinner organ.

Publicity flyer from the early 1950s.

In 1949 Mr. Watkins’ career was launched after he competed in and won the Young Artists Award of the National Federation of Music Clubs, at the time the most prestigious music competition in the U. S.  The first organist to win the competition, Mr. Watkins played Leo Sowerby’s then new Sonatina.  This was the beginning of a life-long association with Sowerby’s music, culminating in his receiving a lifetime achievement and appreciation award from the Leo Sowerby Foundation in 1996 during the AGO National Convention in New York City.  He played solo recitals for national and regional conventions of the AGO, and was a judge for the 1956 National Organ Playing Competition.  He was the first organist to perform with the Dallas Symphony, the first organist to play in the Art Institute of Chicago, and the first organist to perform in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D. C.  His solo career was curtailed in late 1951 as a result of injuries he sustained in an automobile accident.

Aeolian-Skinner Organ, Opus 1306 from 1957, in the gallery of Georgetown Presbyterian Church, Washington, D. C.

In the early 1950s he began a noted teaching career that continued until his death.  Many of his students have won competitions and developed careers of their own in churches and academic institutions.  At various times he also taught organ at the Washington Musical Institute, the University of Maryland, and Catholic University of America.  He recorded for the Aeolian-Skinner “King of Instruments” series, McIntosh Records, and Washington Records.  Mr. Watkins’ professional career culminated as director of music and organist at Georgetown Presbyterian church in Washington.  Shortly after his appointment  he collaborated with Joseph S. Whiteford on the construction of a new 19-rank Aeolian-Skinner organ of unusual design, which he described in a brochure as “not large but extraordinarily resourceful . . . absolutely stunning for its capability, its flexibility, its variety, and its tonal beauty.”  With the new organ and the restoration of the historic building and its good acoustics, Mr. Watkins established the church as an important venue for choral and organ music in the oldest Presbyterian congregation in the nation’s capital.  He oversaw several additions to the organ over the years.

William Watkins leaves many devoted students upon whose lives he left an indelible mark through his artistry, devoted friendship, humility, and his love of the Aeolian-Skinner organ.  A memorial service and interment took place at Georgetown Presbyterian Church.  A musical memorial tribute is scheduled at the church on April 2, 2005.

–NEAL CAMPBELL

William Watkins with Lorenz Maycher and Neal Campbell, 1995.

Obituary: Granville Munson

The following obituary of my predecessor at St. Stephen’s Church, Richmond, Va., appeared in the February 2001 issue of The American Organist:

Granville Munson, 80 years old, October 23, 2000, Richmond, Va., after a long illness.  He was organist and choirmaster of St. Stephen’s Church, Richmond, from 1947 to 1985, and was dean of the Virginia (now Richmond) AGO chapter from 1951 to 1953.  Upon his retirement from St. Stephen’s Church, he was named consultant in church music to the Diocese of Virginia.  Mr. Munson attended St. Alban’s School and was a choirboy at Washington National Cathedral under the cathedral’s first organist and choirmaster, Edgar Priest.  After his voice changed, he continued to serve as the cathedral’s head crucifer until graduation from St. Alban’s School.  He earend his B.Mus. degree from the University of Pennsylvania and was organist and choirmaster of St. Mary’s Church, Hamilton Village, Philadelphia.  Following service in World War II, Mr. Munson studied with T. Tertius Noble in New York.  Shortly after coming to Richmond, he joined the faculty of St. Catherine’s School and St. Christopher’s School, whose campuses are adjacent to St. Stephen’s Church.  He was also a founding member of the Richmond Symphony Orchestra in the mid-1950s and he served for many years as Virginia chairman of the National Cathedral Association.  More than 100 former choirmembers from the church and the schools participated in his funeral at St. Stephen’s Church.  AGO Region III Councillor Neal Campbell, Mr. Munson’s successor, was the organist.

Granville Munson, left, with Edouard Nies-Berger, and Neal Campbell, Richmond, Va., 1988.

Reviews of “In the Spirit’s Tether: Choral and Instrumental Music of Harold Friedell”

The following review by Michael Barone appeared in the September 2000 issue of The American Organist:

IN THE SPIRIT’S TETHER: Choral and Instrumental Music by Harold Friedell (1905-1958).  The Choir of St. Stephen’s Church, Richmond; Neal Campbell, organist and choirmaster; Deborah Cuffee Davis, assistant organist (1951/66 Aeolian-Skinner), with Robert Murray, violin, and Melba Williams, Harp.  Pro Organo CD-7096 [DDD]; 67:47.  Produced by Frederick Hohman (available from Zarex Corporation: 800-336-2224; www.zarex.com.  [Anthems: Psalm 25; Draw us in the spirit's tether; The Way to Jerusalem; Thou Son of God on Christmas Day; The shepherds had an angel; Sweet little Jesu; Modal Communion Service; Orisons; Magnificat and Nunc dimittis in F; Psalm 121; Organ solos: Lullaby; Prelude on St. Columba; Elegy (with violin and harp).]

Respected and appreciated for his dozen years of service to New York City’s St. Bartholomew’s Church and as an inspiring faculty member of the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seiminary, Friedell was one of the notable East Coast American church musicians of the mid-10th century.  Active in the AGO and maintainer of exemplary programs at the churches he served, Friedell left a small body of useful compositions that reveal a sure hand and a full understanding of the needs of the liturgical church.  Texts are set clearly and without complication, harmonies and melodies are chaste and effecient, yet also confident and reassuring, and everything is accessible to Sunday singers and worshipers.  Though many of the works have been published, two items, which were not, should be: a brief organ Lullaby, with its aura of Delius’s Walk in the Paradise Garden, and the moving soprano solo setting of Psalm 121.  The Mag/Nunc pair is as fine as any by an American, and the plaintive Elegy touches heartstrings, too.  Campbell’s forces are period perfect, and Hohman’s recording of them is spacious, transparent, and totally effective.  No anthem texts are provided in the otherwise informative booklet (and are not really necessary, so clear is the choir’s diction). No useful data is provided about the organ either, this omission being one of Pro Organo’s few recurring bad habits.

This second review, also by Michael Barone, appeared in the July 2001 issue of The American Organist in a column celebrating the 15th anniversary of Frederick Hohman’s Pro Organo label where Barone reviewed a dozen recent Pro Organ releases:

In church music circles, Friedell’s reputation still stands, based on his teachng at Union Theological Seiminar and his years at St. Bartholomew’s and Calvary Church in New York City.  Since his compositions are almost entirely for the church, awareness of his work beyond these precincts is virtually nil.  Thus, Neal Campbell’s dedicated performances (amplified by five booklet pages of his reflective annotations, drawn from his doctoral researches) are both welcome and necessary, at the very least as a document of an aspect of our culture (the serious church musician/composer) that is very much on the decline.  Friedell’s style is harmonically uncomplicated, mildly modal and lyric, easy to follow, and a bit proper as much utilitarian church music is (from any generation).  Little of his music is memorable in the way a Howells or Britten or Walton anthem might be, but that may come from an intent to create works that a totally amateur choir could manage.  These performances present the scores in a natural environment.  The marvelously clean enunciation of anthem texts seems to have been achieved, in part, by a microphone placement that emphasized individual voices (whose diction is flawless) rather than a more blended choral sound.  The chorus responds to Campbell’s sensitive direction, and if their ensemble is not as refined as some professional groups (vibrato in the female singers is rich), it still represents a quality level very high on the scale of American volunteer liturgical choirs.  All of the music is well within the scope of decent singers.  The solo Lullaby (which builds to a modest climax), and the haunting Elegy (in which guest violinist Robert Murray and harpist Melba Williams join Mr. Campbell) would all make satisfying recital interludes.  But in what has become an unfortunate Pro Organo tradition when the organ is not the sole focus of attention, little or no mention is made of it in booklet notes.  Here, even the organ tuning is credited (justifiably, since the instrument sounds superb), but we are told neither the date of completition, nor size, nor any historical background concerning the instrument.  I obtained the data elsewhere.

The following review by Bernard Durman appeared in the April 2000 issue of The Diapason:

This CD is likely to be viewed as the odd-lot recording from Pro Organo, because it features a choir that does NOT model itself after a typical English cathedral choir.  Instead, we have a mature, American mixed adult choir, with a rich, come-as-you-are vibrato.  the CD features the St. Stephen’s Choir, ,a choir not unlike that found in the majority of choir lofts in America, and one which approximates the choral blend and choral sound that one would have been likely to hear (and which this reviewer is old enough to remember) coming from the larger New York City area churches during the early 1960s.  Oddly enough, it is precisely this choral sound that does much to convey the warmth and quasi-operatic drama of the music of Harold Friedell.  Dr. Neal Campbell’s dissertation was centered upon the life and works of Friedell, and he draws upon his experience as he interprets and conducts these works.  Friedell was noted for his work in several New York City churches, his last and most memorable post being at St. Bartholomew’s Church on Park Avenue.

For the program of this disc, Dr. Campbell has included an engaging instrumental track–the lush Elegy for violin, harp, and organ–as well as a couple of organ solo tracks and one very impressive soprano solo from Lisa Edwards-burrs (a setting of Psalm 121).  To this he has added some fine choral singing of service music, and both well-known and little-known Friedell anthems.  As one continues to listen to this album, one can begin to identify many of the harmonic progressions, modal flavors, and rhythms that are Friedell’s musical thumbprints.  For those of us who only know Harold Friedell from his “hit” anthems, such as Draw us in the spirit’s tether and The Way to Jerusalem, this CD will give the listener a finer understanding of this mid-century church musician/composer.  While the choral ensemble and diction are in fine form, and the recorded sound excellent, we are still miles removed from the sound of the Anglican cathedral men and boys choirs.  The value of the CD for the church musician is primarily for the opportunity of gaining insight into the dramatics, even the theatrics, of Harold Friedell’s sacred music.  The dramatic element must be understood by all who would conduct this music in order that it be delivered with the spirit of dignity and serenity that no musical score alone can convey.

The Choir of St. Stephen's Church, Richmond, Virginia.