Nick Bennett

Probably rather too difficult for a lot of choirs, and not worth the effort, but you are welcome to try this setting of O Magnum Mysterium.

A friend of mine has sung bass in the choir at Blackburn cathedral since Adam were a lad, and recalls one of these back-to-back sessions. They did the live broadcast first, then retired for a cuppa before recording another evensong to be broadcast in the Christmas season. When they processed in, with the red light on, they found that the vergers had changed the hangings from green to gold without telling anybody. If I may digress, Peter also tells a tale about the recent organ rebuild when a toaster was in use. One of the speakers was immediately behind the choir stalls and perhaps a little overpowering. The high court judge who also sings bass in the choir turned to Peter and said "I can feel my testicles vibrating - are yours?".

Don't get me started on transcriptions again ...

There's the Toccata Festiva by Samuel Barber.

According to this, an 1892 Willis in almost original condition has been purchased for the Hooglandse Kerk in Leiden. The church already has an absolutely stunning organ by de Swart and Hagerbeer (restored, inevitably, by Flentrop). Where's this Willis coming from then? Any ideas?

It had never struck me that the word "academic" had anything to do with the method of delivery. I thought it referrred to intellectual rigour. When it comes to Oxbridge college chapels, it ought to be borne in mind that the buildings and the services held therein are funded out of the college coffers for the benefit of members of the college. Members of the public are welcome to attend such services, but then again, they are equally welcome to attend lectures on quantum field theory. To go to either and complain that the content went over your head is rather like going to Antarctica and complaining about the cold. Then there's the question of length of sermon. I don't think it is fair to say that ten minutes is long enough to get any point over. If that were true, no TV or radio programme (or lecture!) would be longer than 10 minutes. The problem is that so many preachers have no point to get over in the first place. In that case, ten minutes is certainly long enough.

Why ever not? Surely that type of sermon has its place, not least in Oxbridge colleges. It's preferable to the pink and fluffy but completely meaningless sermons we are too often subjected to in our parish churches.

I am currently learning the Toccata on "Nu La Oss Takke Gud" by Egil Hovland and if any of you play it perhaps you can help me out, because I don't entirely understand the notation. What actual notes does he want us to play when he writes those clusters with large flat signs on the final page? You might also like to comment on whether it's worth the effort. When I was looking through it in Brian Jordan's, another customer looked over my shoulder and said what a cracking piece it was, so I bought it.

Transcriptions obviously come into this category. If they don't appeal to you, you're a snotty snob, evidently. I think there's another category of music, namely music that puts you beyond the pail if you do like it. For some people it's Messiaen or Ockeghem, for others it's Lefebure-Wely or John Rutter. Or maybe Elgar. So, lets leave our inhibitions behind, ladies and gentlemen, and beat each other up over music we do or don't like. Transcriptions have been covered, so let's not go over that ground again! I'll start the ball rolling by saying I can't stand Mozart, I think most of Liszt's works are shallow, and Bartok is the second greatest composer since Josquin.

A certain organist of my acquaintance once amused himself during the sermon by trickling incense on to the naked 150w bulb that lights the pedalboard - in a church that can just bring itself to tolerate incense twice a year.

Prelude and Fugue in e minor BWV 533 as played by Vierne at Notre Dame in 1928 contrasted with just about any recording made in the last 40 years. The recording is available on the 5-CD set "Orgues et Organistes Francais du XXe Siecle" which I picked up quite cheaply earlier this year. It's got some teriffic stuff on it including Widor, Vierne, Tournemire, Durufle, Messiaen, Gigout and Dupre playing their own works, and Tournemire's five famous improvisations.

Yes, but what meaning is the phrase "notwithstanding the repertoire" supposed to convey? It means nothing to me. I take it it's some sort of "in joke" that only those in the know will appreciate. Can a difficult situation not be a problem? And an unusual one even more so, as there is so little precedent as to how to extricate oneself. Examples might help to elucidate this interesting philosophical point.

... and the very best ones before 1600 - Byrd, Palestrina, Victoria, Lassus, Josquin. My favourite has to be the mass in four parts by Byrd.

I use a pair of Loake skip-ons with leather soles and rubber heels. The soles are very thin, and there is virtually no welt. They are the sort of shoes I wouldn't be seen dead in in the street - but then, aren't all organ shoes? Don't attempt Organmasters if you need very wide fitting shoes. I tried them. but even their wide fitting 9½'s were far too narrow for me - as in, I couldn't get them on.

Transcriptions and "lighter organ fare"? I suspect these put off the dyed-in-the-wool organ purists like myself without attracting anybody else. I really don't understand why organists feel compelled to adulterate their recitals with this crap. It doesn't happen in any other branch of what might be called serious music - i.e. music you are expected to sit still and listen to in complete silence for an hour or more at a stretch. It's no wonder other musicians don't take the organ and organists seriously.

No, the PRS will send you the payments automatically, provided you've had the foresight to join it as a composer member. I seem to remember it's about £11 per recital for small venues, split between all the copyright holders who had pieces performed. Make sure the rest of the recital comprises out of copyright works.

You can see Moto Ostinato being performed by Arjen Leistra on the 1831 Batz organ at the Domkerk, Utrecht, in these three clips: Moto Ostinato 1 Moto Ostinato 2 Moto Ostinato 3 Apart from the spectular jumping around from manual to manual towards the end, I find it fascinating to watch the two registrants in action in almost every bar.

Sorry, it's Saturday 27th October.

The experience of hearing a shoddy performance that others could find no fault with is familiar to me too. A few weeks ago I turned the radio on to hear Bruckner 8 being played rather poorly by the BBCSO, and I started a thread about it on the BBC R3 forum. I was strongly supported by some, but others insisted there were no problems at all. It's very odd. Suppose a group of people went for a walk and, on returning, a conversation developed about a mugging that some of the group had witnessed part way round. Suppose further that some of the group said, "What mugging? I saw no mugging." Then, if the accounts of those who claimed to have witnessed the incident agreed, everyone would assume that it had actually happened and that the rest of the group had failed to observed it. But when it comes to listening to a piece of music, those who haven't noticed any problems with the performance seem to think that those who did are making it up, even though they agree on exactly what the faults were.

On Saturday 28 October, Philip Tordoff will be giving Halifax Parish Church's 1,000th recital at 7.30. Admission will be at 1971 prices (3/-, concessions 2/-). Another attraction is that a specially-brewed Snetzler Ale will be available. I am told it is excellent. The organ is being tuned and fettled in anticipation of this milestone, so if you want to hear the instrument at its best, this is your chance. Actually, it is only the 1,000th recital since 1971. There were certainly some recitals before that, including one given by Marcel Dupre in the late 40's, and a mini-recital by Bairstow during the dedication service in 1929.

My experience of running a not-for-profit business turning over £750,000 a year is that card payments are a good thing. Cash is such a risk. It gets pilfered by the staff, and if you have £20,000 of it on the premises on a Sunday night, it is really quite a target for the criminal classes. Well worth risking a firearm for, in fact, according to our advice from the police. And unless you are stupid enough to send one of the employees across town with that sum of money on him, you will end up paying a security company to take it off your hands, which doesn't come cheap. And unless you are very lucky, your bank will charge you for paying in both cash and cheques. Cheques do bounce, and you will occasionally find your staff (bless!) have accepted forged notes. Give me payments with plastic every time!

When I come to think about it, the only British player I have heard playing much Bach is Peter Hurford, whom I rate highly, though I find some of his tempi a little fast. Of course, I have heard a lot of British organists play one or two of JSB's works, and of those, it is a performance of the Wedge by Andrew Millington in a recital at Halifax that sticks in my memory as quite outstanding. I thought the tempo was exactly right, which probably means it was on the leisurely side; the forward momentum was astonishing, which I put down to a very subtle use of rubato and some slight tempo changes. I seem to remember he played the prelude without a stop change (though with manual changes), pushed in the great mixture for the start of the fugue, then added it and the swell reeds (8' and 4') at the end.

There may be a line more or less coincident with the Humber, at which civilisation stops. However, I rarely venture south of it, so I really can't comment.

There is definitely a connection. In my time I've been Secretary and Chairman of a steam railway, a director of its operating company and a volunteer in various capacities on the operating side. I am currently taking a back seat and merely providing its IT support and acting as secretary of its finance committee. As we often say, there's more to running a steam railway than putting on a uniform and parading about in front of the public. The organ console at Halifax PC is adorned with a photograph of a bus, betraying the transport interests of the good Tordoff. Bishop Eric Tracey was, of course, not only a superb railway photographer, but also the vicar of Halifax before his elevation to the episcopacy, and president of our railway from its inception to his death - on Appleby railway station. For some years I lived in a house overlooking the railway. It was equipped with an extension on the railway's internal telephone system, which was very handy when I was In Charge. These days I have to rely on the wind being in the right direction to hear the Toot! of locomotives running round their trains.

Yes, I was there - and what an excellent evening it was. I only found about it on Monday night by happening to visit the Minster web site. The piece that really impressed me was FJ's Audi Filia with which the official concert ended. It's a piece I have never heard before, but I found it had great depth and was very moving, especially as he wrote it to be performed at his own wedding. The way the solo treble emerged from the organ chords between sections was magical - much assisted by the acoustics, of course. As an encore, the man himself jumped on to the organ stool and played a Bairstow piece - which I am very familiar with but whose name escapes me. This appeared to be a genuinely impromptu affair, as he played it without the dots (which I haven't seen him do elsewhere). As is often the case with Francis, it wasn't entirely without incident, but it was thoroughly musical and compelling. And if I may say so, Richard, I thought you accompanied the choir very sensitively.