MAB

By common consent, Notre Dame seems to be one of the loudest ; I have heard that remark about eardrums distorting from more than one player. I spoke to Stephen Farr about playing there earlier this year ; normally the most aesthetic and fastidious musician, Stephen admitted, despite himself, at being impressed by the fact that it was just so LOUD. Westminster Cathedral is very loud at the console, although in a way that I find overbearing rather than exciting. The Grand Chorus is above your head, and once that is on you cannot hear anything else. In a recent Sunday afternoon recital I arranged my programme so that - in a rare moment of discretion - the Contra Bombarde was only heard at the end of the last piece. My hapless page turner was standing right beside the Bombarde when it came on and physically jumped. He later described the experience as like having a pneumatic drill held to the side of his head. Naturally, I went on to point out to him that I had not got round to the Tuba Magna at all in my programme. The other organs that I remember as almost unpleasantly loud are Notre Dame Leicester Place and St John's Church, Duncan Terrace, Islington, the latter being very loud at the console so that after a little time you just end up with a headache. The art, as ever, is to find the right balance of power and excitement. My uncle, an architect, always raved about Liverpool Anglican Cathedral as being (architecturally) the perfect mix of smoothness and power, and that probably goes for the Liverpool organ as well. Playing that organ at full blast is like driving a racing car at 200mph ; you 'slow down' to what feels like a crawl, only to look at the speedometer and find you are still doing 70 mph. Perhaps we could start a related thread about organs that are disappointingly soft. By common consent, Bridgewater Hall never quite seems to get there ; an experience I have also had (as a listener) at King's Cambridge, Kingston Parish Church and Saint Sulpice (although in the latter case that might have been to do with my position in the church). Just as you think things are starting to build up nicely, you realise that you are already flat out. Ultimately, beauty of sound is much more important than sheer power, but sometimes a bit of a blast is just what you need. As George Thalben Ball reminded us, every organ should have one stop or aspect that makes you go 'Golly'. M

Thank you so much, Paul, for your view of the Esquisses - just the response I was hoping to receive, from the person I hoped would respond. Many thanks. M Incidentally, just how big would that bribe have to be ?

I swear by my metronome(s). I have two of the credit card - sized digital metronomes. One sits on the toaster at home, and the other is in my music case so I have a metronome wherever I go. I do not actually use it that much to gauge the tempo of a piece, apart from just getting an idea at the beginning. However, I do use it a great deal when practicing. As regular readers of this board will know (yawn), I am a great fan of practicing very slowly, that is, at quarter speed. Playing along with a metronome is essential to make sure that you keep strictly to this discipline, otherwise it is all too easy to say 'I know this bit - it doesn't matter if I speed up here'. That is not how the exercise works. I accept, though, that this is a discipline to be used for short, concentrated periods, rather than all the time. The other thing that my metronome shows me is when I am speeding up. It can be very hard to keep a strict pulse in a piece, especially if the movement changes from, say, duplets to triplets, or the writing gets denser. A sense of anxiety as the notes pile up can cause you to speed up without realising it. Again, once or twice through (only) with the metronome helps to correct this problem. Finally, the metronome was crucial in preparing for the dreaded RCO tests. I would always practice these with the metronome ticking simply to force my brain into the required discipline. In response to Vox Humana's point, those of a cynical disposition might say that 'pushing natural musical feeling into the background' is the essence of passing those particular tests. I could not possibly comment. M

I always remember these from preparing for my ARCO ! John Scott gave the following aide memoire which I have always used 60 = Just count seconds. 72 = Zadok the priest 100 = Happy birthday to you. 120 = Colonel Bogey Having tested these with a metronome, I have found them amazingly accurate ! Hope this helps. M

I have always been intrigued by Mulet's Esquisses Byzantines, coming across them first, like most of us, through Tu es Petra. I remember being blown away by hearing Nicholas Kynaston conclude a RFH recital years ago with Rosace and Tu es Petra, which are the two movements I play. I have a soft spot for Tu es Petra which I still think is by far the most exciting of the standard toccatas that do the rounds, and Rosace seems to be featuring more in programmes. I have been digging around on the internet and found Mulet to be a fascinating character - according to Wikipaedia, he destroyed all his manuscripts in 1937 and lived in seclusion for the last 30 years of his life, a monastic character. I would love to delve deeper into the Esquisses and wonder if anyone could suggest which other movements are worth looking at ? I have seen Chant Funebre, Nef, Vitrail and Noel appearing in programmes, and recall that Paul (aka Cynic) recorded the entire sequence at Notre Dame, Leicester Place some years ago. Perhaps someone could suggest a group of 3 or 4 that might go well together as a suite ? Just for the record, I ought to add that I dislike the Carillon Sortie as much as I love Tu es Petra (which is a very considerable amount). One of those instances when you ask yourself how someone who could write a piece as good as A could also write a piece as naff as B. Or am I alone in this ? Kind regards, M

Peter - I had to get the Universal edition on special order from Allegro Music. It took a little time, and was not far short of £20, but I think it is worth it in the long run. Perhaps we should start an 'Ad Nos learner's support group'. 'My name is Mark. I am an Ad Nos addict. I keep trying to learn it but keep getting stuck at (insert page number)'. M

This rings lots of bells with me. It is one of those pieces that I have decided to play every year as a New Year's resolution but can never quite follow through. In the best tradition, I have started to learn it from the end backwards, but I suspect that the really tough stuff is in the four pages leading into the final statement of the chorale - can anyone confirm this and, if so, offer any tips on how to crack it ? It was one of those pieces I first heard as a moody adolescent, and it has never completely left me. The first recording I heard was by Xavier Darasse at St Sernin Toulouse, and if I concentrate, I think I can play the entire recording in my head. What I love about his interpretation is the slow burn. I never like those performances that get to the tutti by the third statement of the chorale ; Darasse never rises above mezzo forte for the first ten pages, but when the big stuff appears, it just floors you. I ought to add that of all the Liszt pieces, this is the only one that really melts my butter - I really couldn't be bothered to spend the time learning BACH which has never convinced me. I have heard many performances over the years, many of them rather scrappy, but when it is played right, the effect is overwhelming. I particularly remember John Scott playing it at St Paul's Cathedral about ten years ago. I swear that on the last page, the whole cathedral started to move and take off, like the mother ship at the end of Close Encounters - I have never heard anything like it again. It seems to me that the slog is worth it if only against the possibility that you might recapture that experience. Unbelievably, the other great performance I remember was from one of my contemporary organ scholars at Oxford (not a big name) who played it on the squeaky two manual organ at Merton. I thought it would be ridiculous, but he paced it so well that it came off superbly. As for practicalities, I have got a couple of editions, but have been strongly recommended to the Universal Edition as being textually the most accurate (even if rather expensive). I have also been told by a friend of mine who plays it that it is not actually that difficult, compared to, say, the Reubke (which I can get round with sufficient work). I suspect that, in the main, this is true, although there are probably a few killer moments that make up for it. I suspect that the trick with learning this piece is to look one year ahead and pencil it into a programme on a suitable organ, then break the piece down into chunks timetabled over a few months at a rate of so many pages a week, and just push yourself through it. Hmm ... I think I feel a new resolution coming on. Keep in touch Peter - perhaps we might learn it together ! M

As always, some further thoughts occurred to me last night which are worth adding. I have been playing the organ seriously now for getting on for 30 years, and it is funny how it is only now that I am really grasping the basics that I was taught all those years ago. In particular ; The more you use your toes in pedalling, the more defined your pedal playing will be. I find I am re - learning a lot of pieces that I learned quickly as a student, and this is the main change I am making, namely, revising pedalling to play with toes alone wherever possible. Your pedalling will, again, be more precise if your keep your knees and ankles together as much as you can. Another basic that I am only now really understanding. At the moment I am learning the Durufle Fugue on the Carillon of Soissons, which has some fast pedal scales. After hours of trying to get them really clean I discovered - surprise, surprise - that the only way to do it is to use toes all the time, and keep your ankles touching one another so far as your can. Another 'ladybird book' basic. When you practice, practice with hands and feet in separate combinations for a long time (that is, significantly longer than you think necessary). This brings clarity and focus to your playing. For a long time I thought this was babyish advice, and I was far too advanced to need this. I was wrong, and I have taken up this technique again the past year which really pays dividends. Practice slowly = quarter speed. I recently discovered that this was one of Flor Peeters great techniques. I picked this up from an interview with Joanna Macgregor, and I recently learned that this is how Thomas Trotter gets such phenomenal results. If it is good enough for them, it is good enough for me. It is mentally very tiring, but watch how your playing improves. Specifically in relation to ARCO, think long term. It took me the best part of 18 months (off and on) to get the tests up to scratch. There is only one way to do these tests, and that is to practice them every single day, so that you feel guilty if you miss a day. I remember practicing my ARCO tests on Christmas Day, just so that I could say I had done them. I used to think that the great players just sailed through these exams without practicing. The best lesson I had in my RCO preparation was to talk to three world class performers, including John Scott, and this is all that they said. Even the immortals have to practice ! Also in relation to ARCO, the performers notes for the pieces now published by the St Giles School are excellent. It is invidious to single anyone out, but Kevin Bowyer's notes are superb ; again, that combination of musical inspiration and very practical advice on how to get round the notes the right way (I remember reading tips in his notes on breathing, muscle relaxation, performance psychology and exactly when to press a piston - this strikes me as the ideal approach). To finish on that note, when I took my FRCO I went straight to the teachers at the St Giles school and they were uniformly excellent, embodying many of the sort of points that I have touched on in these notes. I believe that Daniel Cook is teaching at Salisbury, which is not that far from you. Perhaps this may be a useful contact. Let us know how you get on ! Best regards, M

The title of this thread caught my eye because I started learning from 'Ars Organi' all those years ago. I remember it as a thorough technical guide, which is to be commended. However, I think there are two separate questions here that need looking at ; first, the question of building a reliable keyboard technique and second, the question of a disciplined and effective practice technique. I think the simple answer to both questions is 'find a good teacher'. From my own experience, this can be a bit of a hit and miss exercise, but if I was at your stage and looking for a good teacher today, I would look for someone who actively pays attention to your technique and constantly disciplines it. If I had a teacher who only talked about interpretation without also talking about technique, I would be a bit careful. This is precisely what I did not have, and as a result I have picked up my technique as I have gone along. I think my technique is basically sound ; if so, though, this is largely the result of having a very old - fashioned, piano teacher when I was a schoolboy who gave me a thorough grounding in keyboard studies. Boring at the time, but I am really grateful for it today. If I had had a more disciplined organ teacher for my technique, my technique would not necessarily have been better, but I think that my technique would have been consolidated faster than it was. I had a few lessons with David Sanger and always remember how he tempered his wonderful inspiration for the art of making music with thoroughly pragmatic advice on points of technique. This must be the ideal to aim for. In terms of tutors, as I say, I remember Ars Organi as thorough and workmanlike, although it is years since I looked at it critically. I would certainly pay attention to David Sanger's Tutor, also Peter Hurford 'Making music at the organ'. I have not seen Roger Fisher's 'Masterclass' published by Animus, but from many discussions with him, as well as reading his excellent articles in the Organists Review, I imagine this would be an absolute gold mine of good teaching on keyboard and practice technique. So far as practice technique is concerned, it is hard to beat Anne Marsden Thomas' book. Some of the material might seem a bit primary school - ish, but it is all very sound. The longer I play the organ, the more convinced I am that a clear, directed practice technique, is essential in making progress at the organ. It concentrates your learning, helps you to learn better, and helps you to learn faster. Every time I sit down to practice I remember the following - 1 How much time do I have before me ? 2 What do I want to achieve in this session ? 3 What is the most effective way of obtaining that result ? 4 Am I always playing as well as I possibly can ? 5 Remember ; if I am not practicing playing right, then I am actually practicing playing wrong. There are many other contributors on this board who are much more qualified than I am to answer this question, but I hope these thoughts from the front may be helpful. Let us know how you get on and, above all, enjoy your playing. All best, M

The version of the story I heard was that it was Benjamin Britten who, once a year, would solemnly play a recording of a piece of Brahms to remind himself 'just what a talentless bastard he was'. I rather agree with this, so far as his orchestral music is concerned. I find Brahms' harmonic language to be rather like Joseph Conrad's prose style ; every last implication is spelled, out, there is nowhere left for the imagination to explore. In particular, I cannot stand the German Requiem, especially 'How lovely are thy dwellings' - makes me cringe even to think about it. There are some composers who I like but in part ; I love the Beethoven quartets, but would not cross the road to hear any of the symphonies. But this whole question of likes and dislikes - as well as being very funny to read - is difficult because one's tastes change over time. I used to adore Franck, then suddenly went off him, just wanting him to grow up and stop being so adolescent. In particular, I could never understand why anyone would bother with the Fantaisie in A. Suddenly, though, the penny dropped and I fell in love with all the organ music, particularly - you guessed it - the Fantaisie in A. Confining myself to organ music, I would allow the first and last movements of Widor 5 and 6 but apart from that cannot see why anyone would bother to waste so much time on so many notes where so little is said. Also, anything by Kenneth Leighton heads straight for Room 101 ; I find his music to be, as a friend of mine once said of Herbert Howells 'all the same .. . but miserable'. (One other great put down comes from a composer friend of mine who, after listening to a piece of William Matthias remarked ' ah, yes, Matthias ; the lack of talent in every bar'. Cruel, but very funny). M

I am so pleased that this topic has come up as I have always been passionate about Tournemire. To me he has a voice like no other, and when I first heard his music - the now famous recording of Office 24 by Flor Peeters from Liverpool Metropolitan - it would scarcely be an exaggeration to say that this sounded like the music I had been waiting for all my life. I started by learning Office 24 - it is fabulous music, and not at all difficult in terms of its technical demands, although I think with this music that it selects its own players - if you love Tournemire, you will probably play it well anyway. I do not play a great deal of L'Orgue Mystique, although the Choral Alleluiatique from Office 44 is absolutely devastating ; I remember being speechless the first time I heard it in the Delvalee recording. The Offertoire for All Saints day is superb (Office 48) , likewise the Triptyque for Holy Saturday. Adrian Gunning recorded a selection of the cycle at Coventry Cathedral which is an excellent introduction to the series, and a couple of years ago Richard Lea performed the complete series liturgically over a year at Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral. Tournemire, incidentally, was always entirely happy for some of the larger individual movements to be played as concert items, which I have often adopted myself. Of all the Tournemire recordings I have heard, Delvalee's are by far and away the best - he seems to have the absolute feel and pulse of this music. There is an American series by Timothy Tikker on an organ, and in a style, I find far from persuasive. Marie Dufourcet Hakim recorded a couple of the offices at the Sacre Coeur on an old Priory recording. I remember not finding these terribly gripping, although she plays the Fresque Symphonique Sacrees fabulously well - the second, for Pentecost, is a superb piece. Tikker has also recorded the Symphony Choral, and a few years ago there was a matching recording by Jane Watts at Orleans Cathedral, together with the early Triple Choral. This was rather beautiful, although I could never really take to her performance of the larger piece. Tom Walker's realisations of the offices are powerful and haunting ; I met Tom years ago at his St Paul's Cathedral exhibitions and we have been firm friends since. In around 1990 we gave a series of concert performances of the Seven Words with his paintings in a couple of English cathedrals, as well as music festivals overseas. We also had the huge privilege of playing the Seven Words at Beauvais Cathedral (the building that inspired the music ; all of Tournemire's larger symphonic canvases are inspired by a particular church or cathedral). This is tough music, but hugely rewarding to play. There are a number of recordings around (at one stage I was negotiating to record the piece myself, but this never came to fruition) but, again, Delvalee knocks everyone else into a cocked hat. I know the scores are expensive, but do not be put off by this ; it is wonderful music and, as many of the contributors to this thread have said, it gets into your soul, and will keep you company for life. So far as the improvisations are concerned, I have yet to hear a good complete set of all of them, although there are individual recordings which are well known - I dislike the fact that Victimae Paschali has become something of a showpiece, but the Jane Parker Smith recording from Blackburn was stunning. Rupert Gough is now producing his own edition of the improvisations which are transcribed more closely from the Tournemire originals. It has always been fairly common knowledge that Durufle re- worked the improvisations to make them (slightly) more in his own image, but Gough seems to have got the most accurate facsimiles. I know that Stephen Farr performs a couple and is working on the set, and I believe they are due to be published by Wayne Leopold next year. M

Thank you for starting this most interesting thread. I had also heard this theory in relation to lunar cycles and / or astronomical movement, although if my memory serves me correctly, this was in respect of the e minor ciacona. I also have a dusty memory of the variations of the ciacona being linked to points of the rosary. Having said that, the d minor passacaglia has the clear four - part structure that you have pointed out, which is more consistent with the lunar phasing, and I suspect it is my memory that is at fault here. What is beyond doubt is that there was a very sophisticated astronomical clock in the Marienkirche in Buxtehude's day, so this sort of analogy is in no way far - fetched. I recall reading an article about this in the OR many years ago, but could not now put my hand on it. However, last year I read most of the main sources on Buxtehude in preparation for the FRCO written paper when the free works were the set pieces. I am bound to say that none of them mentioned the astronomical connection in relation to the ciaconas or the passacaglia, including Kerala Snyder, James Dalton and Geoffrey Webber who, between them, must be regarded as the definitive Buxtehude scholars. On the question of performance, I first heard the e minor ciacona played by Gillian Weir when she played the whole piece piano spread over three manuals with nothing but quiet flutes on each. The effect was magical, and I have always adopted this practice myself with the piece. M

OK, it looks like its me first then. On the basis that it is Friday afternoon and I have just had a very good lunch courtesy of some clients, I would say as follows. Inevitably, these are my choices on the best in each category that I have actually played ; having said that, I am not sure that there are that many instruments in the UK that I have not played that obviously present themselves in any of these categories. Best small - Queen's College, Oxford with Meeting House, Sussex University a close second. Best medium - All Saints, Tooting / St Mary's, Woodford (very hard to choose). Best large - Coventry Cathedral Best very large - St Paul's Cathedral. Best of the best ; if I could only ever live with one organ on which to play everything from Sweelinck to Messiaen, striking the balance between power, excitement, beauty of sound, but the intimacy of feeling completely in control of the whole instrument, it would be Coventry. Incidentally, if I widened this to include instruments outside the UK, I would add Paris / Madeleine joint first place with Coventry in the large category, and I would include St Ouen and Notre Dame as the two organs I still dream of playing. And the rain it raineth every day. M

I can think of a few similar things, all of which make me break out in a cold sweat to recall them - I clearly remember drawing a hymn to a suitable close with a rallentando and pausing on the last chord ; a pointed cough from the choir stalls alerted me to the fact that there was another verse at the top of the next page which I had overlooked. On another occasion I was asked to learn a special piece of music for a wedding as it was the bride's choice for the occasion. In fact it was rather good ; a movement from a Stanley voluntary. I saw the bride arrive, I saw the vicar waving to give the sign to start playing, and I launched in. I was vaguely aware of a lack of processional motion behind me but had to concentrate on the music so could not look round to see what had happened. When I finished, the bride was still waiting at the door. Apparently, she had entirely missed the significance of her 'special piece of music' which I promptly had to play again. I also recall accompanying the choir of Exeter College, Oxford when I was organ scholar at Trinity, that is, before the new organ was installed. The old organ still lurked up in the gallery. I had to accompany the Leighton canticles ; I was fully engaged on playing the music and could only spare the time for the odd glance in the rear view mirror. All seemed well whenever I glanced up with the conductor leading the choir vigorously. Next time I looked up - empty mirror. It turned out that the conductor had keeled over - 'tired and emotional' as Private Eye would report. Finally, two embarrassing moments for two friends. A friend of mine was playing for a service in Norwich Cathedral with a full house. He was playing so loud he could not hear which verse was being sung, and lost track of where he was. He had to ask a friend to listen over the side at the end of each verse with his hands poised over the keys ; if the congregation started up, he would play another verse, and so on. Another friend, now a most distinguished cathedral organist, was, at the time, my parish choir master. Obviously he had 'switched off' during evensong, and was woken from his reverie by the vicar announcing the psalm with increasing urgency. My friend did not have a psalter, so he improvised a series of chords that approximated to a chant. Unfortunately, the choir had no idea which way he was going, and he could never remember from one verse to the next what he had done previously, so the psalm was as if sung to fragments of late Stockhausen. How we laughed. M

In the past year I have had three lessons from three teachers, all of whom are regarded as top organists. One of them teaches through the St Giles School. Their rates were between £40 - £50 per hour. Not an hour of the minute was wasted - they were really committed to teaching from first to last. I regard these rates as entirely reasonable and would be surprised to learn of anyone decent charging much less than this. M

I have no wish to sound facetious, but I think the simple answer to this question is that a chamade must be used musically. It all depends on the quality of the reed at your disposal. If I am playing an organ with a really good chamade reed (eg. Blackburn Cathedral) then I have selected music that will particularly exploit this feature, such as Mathias Invocations. I am playing next week at Coventry, and that has very fiery Orchestral Trumpets (not strictly en chamade, and I understand from this forum that they have been toned down in recent years). These could be used as fanfare reeds or one could consider using them for a particularly fiery tutti on the last chord (spoiler - that is what I plan to do). My benchmark is whether the reed fits in with the rest of the chorus without overwhelming it, or making the music out of proportion. If the chamade can add fire to the tutti without blotting it out, then it can be a very exciting addition. If it overwhelms everything else, then I think the result is simply inartistic and can actually take away from a good performance. Then again, there are special cases like the West Trumpets at St Paul's which are simply sui generis. They can sound fantastic, or just out of place. Whenever I went to recitals there, I always felt that the recitalist was looking for an excuse to use them. In one such programme there was no obvious fanfare or dramatic moment when they could be used, with the result that they completely obliterated the tutti at the end of Vierne IV. I find - perhaps as a result of long - delayed maturity - that if I am playing on an organ with such a stop, I increasingly avoid it unless it can really be justified on these musical grounds (on one occasion, I remember, to the bitter disappointment of my page turner). Hope this helps M

I have been very pleased to read this thread, as I had been feeling rather guilty at programming the g minor fantasia by itself as the opening of a forthcoming recital. Time is limited, and the whole fantasia and fugue would just be too much Bach in the allotted 30 minutes. Cynic's views have buoyed me considerably. I expressed this view to one of my teachers, who pointed out that the fantasia and fugue were never, originally conjoined ; I understand that the fugue originally existed in f minor, which only reinforces the point. M

Many thanks for this meticulous reply. M

By coincidence, two friends of mine in the past 6 months have mentioned this piece and asked me if I can find a published source for it. One of them wants to include it in a programme covering the seasons of the year. I have dug about in a desultory way without coming up with much. Can anyone out there help ? Many thanks, M

Ah, Genesis ; you have stumbled onto one of my passions. On a point of order, I am delighted to confirm that Tony Banks is no longer the 'former' keyboard player with Genesis, as the group has reformed. Having seen them three times live already, I will be there at Twickenham for the reunion concert in London in July. Tony Banks is a stunning musician with an extremely acute sense of melody and harmony. So far as I am aware, he is largely self taught, Genesis having already been formed in essence by the time they all left school (famously, Charterhouse). He could play all of the Beatles songs by ear from a young age. The early Genesis material betrays, in Banks own words, large debts to Rachmaninoff and Ravel, and in Seven there is a lot of Vaughan Williams as well. He is also a very adept player as well, if you listen, for example, to the introduction to Firth of Fifth, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, or any of the epic solos in The Lamb. Having, as I say, heard the group live in concert, they play with a virtuosity, passion and, frankly, joy in music that knocks most classical performances I have been to into a cocked hat. M

Yes, the Durufle Prelude was the classic example that came to mind as soon as I saw the title to this thread. The other piece that falls into this category is Arvo Part's Pari Intervallo that is streets ahead of the rest of the stuff in that particular book. M

I feel rather inspired by this thread to learn the piece myself. I have found it in the catalogue of Allegro Music and am tempted to splash out my £5.95. M

I am lucky in that I am not too tall - 5'11 - so cannot comment directly on the points raised. Having said that, some consoles are certainly much better designed than others for the average human form. I recently played at Queen's College, Oxford and whilst the organ is beautiful to listen to, it is very uncomfortable to play for just about everyone. I practiced for two hours in the evening and could not work out why my back and legs ached so badly the next morning. I must say that as soon as I read this topic, I thought about the advice of Peter Hurford in 'Making music at the organ' which I have found to be very useful. He imagines all of the bodily movement radiating out from a point just below and behind your navel. This is very much in keeping with the approach of Pilates which I have found a very useful system of exercises. I have found Pilates has improved my running, swimming and playing, being the three main areas where I draw on its approach, although it is one of those things that you can integrate into all aspects of your life. I think the only other helpful advice I can add is that keeping the knees together and gliding the soles of the feet over the pedals seems to improve my pedal playing no end (the latter particularly in fast pedal passages) so when considering my posture at the console, I would give primacy to these considerations. M

I think this is very much a case of horses for courses, but for what it is worth, I bought a standard Viscount about 6 years ago and am utterly delighted with it. I have recommended it to two well known professional organists, and each has bought one after just a few minutes playing on mine. It does depend what you want, though. I was looking for a reasonably affordable, reliable, 2 manual home practice instrument to slot into a small bedroom and appreciate that my needs would be different if I wanted an organ to support a large church with all of its needs, or as an out and out recital instrument. My essential concern was to have one clear, musical flute on each manual that I could practice on for hours without my ears getting tired or bored, and a crisp action. Anything else, frankly, was a bonus. The Viscount fulfils these basic criteria superbly. To be honest, the Viscount is a great deal more comfortable, enjoyable and musical to play than many pipe organs I come across. It is nice, I admit, to have a comprehensive specification although I do not often use it for practice purposes. It is also nice to have a good combination system, but I could live without it. The other registers sound excellent, and although I cannot match some of the technical information being bandied about here, the reproduction and the building of the choruses is uncannily realistic. The action is exceptionally precise and well weighted ; that was a very important consideration for me. I have played it every day for 6 years without a moment's trouble. In terms of gadgets, each stop can be revoiced or tuned, which I suppose is useful, although I do not use it. It has a transposer, and I have found this extremely useful when playing continuo in baroque groups with lower pitch. It also has a digital playback system, which I find invaluable for listening (critically, I should add) to my own performances. I would not be without this. I do not like to speak less than well of other instruments, but I ought to say that I regularly play a number of large, fairly recent Copeman Hart installations ; I find them uncomfortable to play, I find the action very difficult to play with any degree of sensitivity or precision and I find the sounds they make dull and lacking in distinction. For my money, the Viscount knocks these instruments into a cocked hat. I am sure that the technology has come on in leaps and bounds since I bought my instrument, and the other instruments mentioned above are superb, but for what my opinion is worth, my Viscount has never been anything less than a delight for me. Hope that helps - good luck in the search ! M

I am not aware of whether Mathias played the organ or not, but his music is very effective and written idiomatically for the instrument, which suggests a good working knowledge, even if he was not a skilled performer. As with all these things, one has to be choosy ; I play 'Invocations' which can sound stunning on the right organ and in the right environment. I played it at Blackburn Cathedral a couple of years ago where it sounded terrific. (A friend of mine at Oxford was a composer. After hearing one performance of a piece of Mathias sung by the Christ Church choir, he raised his pint and said 'Ah, Mathias ... the lack of inspiration in every bar'. Cruel, perhaps, but also quite funny). I am in touch with Robert and can confirm that he did, indeed, have a stroke last a few years ago. However, he has made a good recovery and continues to play as well as ever, albeit with a lighter schedule. He recently played on the Aubertin in Aberdeen and is playing at Kings College Cambridge on 19th May. M