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sprondel

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Posts posted by sprondel

  1. … I should add that there is no sign of a 2 2/3' in either the Tertian (1 3/5' + 1 1/3') or the Aliquot (1' + ?).

    Your remark made me curious, and I inquired with the cathedral organist about the Aliquot. His answer was that he didn’t know the composition, but that it was “exotic and sounds somewhat odd … I do like the peculiar sound of the stop when being played together with other stops.”

     

    I then turned to the Klais firm and received an answer right away. The composition is as follows:

     

    C = 1' + 8/11' (flat tritonus)

    f = 8/9' (ninth) + 1 5/11' (same flat tritonus, 16-foot based) + 1 3/13' (must be some kind of sixth, again 16-foot based)

    cis''' = 3 5/9' (ninth, 32-foot based) + 1 5/11' + 1 3/13'

     

    I daresay it was worth the inquiry!

    And I really want to go and hear it in the flesh.

     

    All best wishes,

    Friedrich

  2. On the subject of 'missing mutations', I have often wondered about the logic applied in this manual department in Cologne Cathedral. It has, of course, been altered since (in 2002) and the mutations seem more logical now, but I assume there must have been some purpose in creating this list. I should add that there is no sign of a 2 2/3' in either the Tertian (1 3/5' + 1 1/3') or the Aliquot (1' + ?).

     

    IV OBERWERK

    Quintade 16'

    Principal 8'

    Grossgedackt 8'

    Viol di Gamba 8'

    Octave 4'

    Koppelflöte 4'

    Hohlflöte 2'

    Octävchen 1'

    None 8/9'

    Grosse Septime 8/15'

    Tertian II

    Aliquot II-III

    Mixtur V-VI

    Quintcymbel III

    Bombarde 16'

    Trompett Harm. 8'

    Rohrschalmei 8'

     

    The Cologne Oberwerk, as this organ in total, is and was a special case.

     

    The original instrument was constructed by Hans Klais (grandfather to Philipp, who leads the firm today) in 1948/49 and had to be ready for the re-opening of the cathedral in 1949. The nave, however, was still in the process of reconstruction, and was cut off the crossing by a high brick wall. The new instrument had only to fill the – still vast – space of the crossing and chancel.

     

    The next stage arrived in 1956, when the nave had been completed and the brick wall removed. Additionally, the German Catholic Congress took place in Cologne, with the cathedral serving as its symbolic centre. The existing instrument needed substantial repair and rebuilding. The Oberwerk was part of the plan to tackle the challenge of a space more than double the size of the one the organ had been planned for originally. The 16-8 pair of French trumpets, as well as the rich chorus, pay tribute to this challenge.

     

    Add to this the ambition of the Klais family to be on the cutting edge of things: The new division was on electric slider chests, other than the rest of the instrument, which was on Klais’ previously traditional and extremely reliable electric cone-valve chests. The exotic mutations may reflect the idea that blend of any kind of timbres and mutations would be possible on slider chests; it certainly reflects the acoustical problem that harmonics tend to get lost in vast spaces. In Cologne cathedral, a normal Sesquialtera is a comparably dull and lonely thing. You want more, and here was an attempt to provide that. Twelth-sounding flutes were present already on manuals I and IV (Swell) of this incarnation of this instrument, so the Nazard might have been considered redundant on III.

     

    The Oberwerk turned out never to really work well with the rest of the organ, and was re-arranged in 2002, forming a new Positiv on two cone-valve chests which sit behind the façade looking south over the organ loft. The Positiv shares manual I with the – quite energetic – Rückpositiv, also facing south. The new Positiv shares one chest with the newly-conceived solo organ on manual IV. Today you find your 2 2/3-foot flute in both divisions, with the more exotic mutations re-arranged on manual IV.

     

    The problem of filling the space has been overcome – or rather valiantly tackled – by a new winding system with voluminous reservoirs, as well as a high-pressure chest complete with solo flute, string and Tubas 16-8-8, also playable from manual IV. (There are two sets of party horns on the triforiums close to the western entrance, but they are, in my ears, just plain silly.)

     

    All best wishes

    Friedrich

  3. Here are the full stop lists of the swell divisions of these organs which I was talking about in my original post. Apologies for not including them at the outset. The two issues I raised were the lack of a 2 2/3 foot rank and the apparently random flute or principal tonalities of the mutations.

     

    Forgive the imperfect formatting and lack of accented characters.

     

    Organ number 1 (British):

     

    Viola da Gamba 8

    Viola Celeste 8

    Hohl Flute 8

    Geigen Octave 4

    Lieblich Flute 4

    Fifteenth 2 (principal)

    Tierce 1 3/5 (flute)

    Larigot 1 1/3 (flute)

    Mixture III

    Contra Oboe 16

    Cornopean 8

    Krumhorn 8

     

     

    Organ number 2 (Swedish):

     

    Rohr Flute 8

    Salicional 8

    Principal 4

    Hohl Flute 4

    Wald Flute 2

    Tierce 1 3/5 (principal)

    Nasat 1 1/3 (flute)

    Septima 1 1/7 (flute)

    Scharf III

    Schalmei 8

     

    These are both 1960s organs but I have observed similar things in more recent ones. I just don't get a complete picture of the tonal strategy in both cases. To my ears, it does matter because one gets some rather strange effects sometimes when trying to develop choruses, and as I said in #4, the lack of the 2 2/3 rank limits synthetic tone-building flexibility.

     

    CEP

     

    You are certainly right when saying that both are pretty typical for Swell organs from that era. Both have a positive-ish ring about them, the second one more than the first, and both appear a little unpredictable as to the mutations included.

     

    Of course what follows is all in theory. But from what I have experienced in well-voiced and well-scaled organs from good builders, at least the second one seems to be pretty obvious. For chorus building, I would expect that both 8-foot stops, the Principal, the Tierce and Scharf will provide body as well as variety. For a flute chorus, the Rohrflöte, as I would expect it in a Swell of this kind, should be able to swallow whole whatever is going on above it – all the more if the Hohl flute and/or the tremulant are involved. Back then as well as today, Rohrflöten were often thought of as bigger than Gedackts and including a well-developed 2 2/3 ingredient of their own. Add to this the delicate speech and stationary-sound effect of the chimney, and the stop should connect well to mutations above 2-foot, all the more if there is a full flute chorus 8-4-2-mutations. The combination of Nasat 1 1/3' and Septima may have been thought of as modern-man’s sesquialtera – again, the tremulant might be considered essential. The Schalmei should be an all-purpose rank, as pungent as a cromorne but without the latter’s nasal quality, which brings it closer to a small trumpet. Together with the Principal and Tierce, it might even come close to one, if everything blends as well as I would expect it from an organ of some of the best Swedish builders.

     

    The first Swell seems to carry a larger burden – wanting to be a classical Oberwerk as well as an English Swell. Much would depend on what kind of stop the Hohl Flute was. In this style, I would expect a big metal Gedeckt, maybe even a variety of Rohrflöte, rather than the Schulze-type open wood rank. If so, it should blend well with the lieblich Flute, which I expect to be stopped; and both together should, for solo use, connect well to the Tierce and/or Larigot (for the reasons given above), a blend which again might be enhanced by the tremulant. As for the chorus, I would expect to try out the Hohlflute (with or without the Gamba), Geigen, Fifteenth and Mixture – the latter I would expect to start 1 1/3 + 1 + 2/3 and arrive at 2 2/3 + 2 + 1 1/3 around middle-C, thus corroborating the makeshift 8-foot base. This chorus, together with the Contra Oboe and Cornopean and perhaps even without the Hohl Flute, should at least point to an English full-swell sound.

     

    I find it quite interesting how the best builders of this era developed concepts that broke down the solid-brick walls (literally) which over time had developed between traditional, more or less single-purpose divisions. The outcome may have varied in quality, but it certainly opened up many more possibilities of music-making. A traditional Evensong is a beautiful thing – but hey, so is a Buxtehude prelude or a Messiaen trio.

     

    Best wishes

    Friedrich

     

    P. S.

    I wonder: In both instances, might there be a Nazard on the Great, rather than a Twelfth?

  4. Can anyone enlighten me as to the logic behind the choice of pitches and timbres (tone colours) for mutation stops please? I admit to defeat in some cases. Two examples:

     

    The first is a 1960s attempt at an eclectic organ by a well-known British builder of the day (no longer with us). The swell has a Fifteenth (2'), Tierce and Larigot. The first of these is of principal tone whereas the other two are flutes. There is no Twelfth or Nazard at 2 2/3', perhaps because the division is built on a 4 foot Geigen (there is no 8 foot Principal of any sort). Therefore the Larigot is correctly pitched to do duty as a twelfth with respect to 4 foot, but its flute tonality does not match that of either the Principal or the Fifteenth. And why, then, is there a flute Tierce, whose pitch and tonality do not fit at all with the Principal? (I should have expected it to serve as the fifth harmonic of the foundation stop, but when that stop is of 4 foot pitch its meaning and purpose seem diluted).

     

    The second example is a neo-Baroque organ of the same vintage (1960s). On the swell much the same remarks apply - the foundation stop is a 4 foot Principal, there is no Twelfth, the 2 foot stop is a flute this time but the Tierce is a principal, and there is a Nasat at 1 1/3' of flute tone. Oh, and there's also a flute Septima at 1 1/7', but let's not go there.

     

    On neither of these organs can one develop a conventional principal chorus at 4 foot pitch from the available material because not all of the constituents are of principal tone, and in the case of the Tierce the pitch is wrong also. It all seems rather odd.

     

    CEP

    I am a bit confused here – are there no 8-foot stops of any kind present? I’d expect them to stand in for the chorus fundamental. What about 4-foot flutes or reeds?

     

    As to the first example, wasn’t the ideology of the day that everything goes with everything else if only the pressure was gentle and the voicing was open-toe? The pair of flutey Tierce and Larigot might be able to work well together if there is a well-blending foundation of 8- and 4-foot flutes, but of course one wonders where the Nazard got lost. If the Geigen and Fifteenth are capped by a mixture, then the mutations might not have been meant to be a part of the chorus at all.

     

    As to the second, same question: What else is there in terms of foundations? No 8- and 4-foot flutes? What kind of mixture is there – perhaps the Tierce was planned as part of it rather than as a solo mutation, in order to add pungency to the chorus? Again, a flutey trio of 2-foot, Larigot and Septima might work well in several combinations if scaled and voiced appropriately – and if you forget that there is no literature that calls for that kind of combinations.

     

    All best wishes

    Friedrich

  5. I'm sure I remember seeing a notice on a German organ console with the words 'nicht fur gefingerpoken'. It didn't take me many guesses to know what it meant... my German speaking best friend tells me that it's colloquial....

     

    Rather. To put it more precisely, it’s “Great Dictator” German, thus not exactly intelligible for non-English speakers. However, since that film is quite popular in Germany, as are Monty Python (who extended and spread that particular tongue ingeniously), many might take the hint and have Hinkel’s stern face in mind.

     

    Best wishes

    Friedrich

  6. I wonder if others have received tuition from an Alexander Technician who specialise in organ/keyboard instruments?

     

    I cannot speak for keyboard players, but for violinists, who have to maintain a comparable anti-physiological posture while playing and practising.

     

    I have experienced, both in myself and in others, how much the awareness that’s at the core of Alexander technique can set free an unprecedented energy and easiness in a player. In my experience, the whole training was not so much about finding a correct posture – since that changes depending on the player’s own physiological condition, the music and, obviously, the instrument – but more about learning how to become aware of tensions and to find ways to deal with them in order not to get oneself trapped in tense positions.

     

    To freeze in mid-playing and exercise a momentary assessment by “primary control” (feeling one’s way from head down through all the joints involved) seems always to be at the start of it. In a dynamic process, you start from there to develop positions and, more so, movement patterns that allow the playing impulses to float freely through your joints. Adjustments, more often than not, are minimal, but can be very effective. Once started, it is a process that virtually never ceases.

     

    If you look up videos by, e. g., Olivier Latry, Thomas Trotter or John Scott on the web, your can watch that kind of flow in amazing ways. I do not know, of course, if they ever related to Alexander technique, but they certainly are model players when it comes to general suppleness.

     

    All of this can appear pretty alien at first, but is actually quite down-to-earth when you learn to exercise it – no spiritual implications involved.

     

    All best wishes,

    Friedrich

  7. It seems to me that there are clear pragmatic, tuning reasons for not employing this approach throughout the organ. I do wonder, however, what the effect tuning collars have on the tone of an organ pipe. I understand that the scale of pipe construction has some effect on the tone of the pipe, clearly demonstrated between distinctly narrower and wider pipes. But what of the different material that tuning collars seem to be made from

     

    Taking the discussion further, does cone tuning also have an effect on pipe tone as this does change the shape of the column of air?

     

    I suspect that the answers may involve subtleties, but aren't we often interested in such subtleties and their musical ends? I look forward to reading your reflections on all of the above, and any else that seems relevant to this discussion of pipe construction, tuning, and tone.

     

    Both cone and collar tuning should have minimal effect on tone, if properly applied. That includes the desired pitch being not too far from the pipe as built, without the collar. An overlong collar will alter the scale, rendering the pipe as well as the cut-up narrower in relation to its length; among other things, speech might suffer. A pipe that is heavily cone-tuned will sound muted (lower) or unstable (higher). Additionally, pipes must be designed to withstand cone-tuning, e. g. by a metal sheet that is thicker near the lips than it is at the top, so that it gives way easily to the cone but keeps stable around the flue and tip.

     

    As far as I know, steel is used for collars because of its being more springy than tin-lead alloy. I don’t know if there are any undesirable contact effects.

     

    One of the most famous organs of all, the Freiberg Silbermann, is now collar-tuned as a consequence to long and heated debates on the temperament (or lack thereof) that was to be applied, the original tuning having been lost. This, of course, was done because collar-tuning is easily reversible.

     

    All best wishes

    Friedrich

  8. Reviewing what answers the thread has produced until now, I believe this commission went exactly the way it was intended to go. Apart from the, presumably excellent as well as original, instrument, members open up about their beverage predilections, discussing brands and flavours etc., probably re-discovering their own thirst for the product itself (as I have) …

     

    I daresay this provides interesting, if not representative, insights into the nature of public relations. Now if this worked in reverse – rising people’s taste for organs old and new by the way of offering premium beverages, then perhaps a lot could be won.

     

    “One-Hour Recital plus two-hour Single Malt tasting”?* Count me in.

     

    Best wishes,

    Friedrich

     

    * “Participants are kindly asked to try out and visit the organ before, not after, the tasting, however to provide voluntary donations to the organ fund after, not before, the tasting.”

  9. Fascinating. That would appear to combine two of my most ardent interests, although I prefer single malts.

    So do I. But there is still that brand of organists who first engage Swell to Great and then choose the music (who was it again who found those out?) – perhaps because it seems the safer choice.

     

    Then there were those unfortunate changes that compromised the pungency of the product – like abandoning meantone tuning, the result of which in a historic instrument painfully reminds one on what has become of, e. g., Laphroaig. Oh the days when opening the bottle reminded you of your upcoming visit at the dentist only, rather than of some product more likely to please the sensitive gum of some Japanese executive …

  10.  

    Curious. Pitch changes with temperature, to a very small amount because thermal expansion makes the pipes longer, but to a much larger extent because the speed of sound in air changes …

    True, but instrumentalists nowadays tend to use electronic tuners in order to obtain equal pitch unter all circumstances. Those do not react to changes in temperature.

     

    Best,

    Friedrich

  11. I haven’t heard Emmanuel College, but it’s a neat spec. Would you want to add anything to it? A Sw.Sub8ve/Gt coupler or a Sw 16' reed? A Clarion for some extra fire?

    Of course, this depends solely on the acoustics. To venture a guess, with the various Cornets and Mixtures, fire should not be a problem. Thus, a 16' Basson on the Swell seems the logical option. A III/II 16' coupler, in my opinion, would require a more substantial pedal division in order to make up for the lack of 16-foot tone in the lower range.

     

    Best,

    Friedrich

  12. Apologies if this has been done before or if it isn’t the right forum. This post is prompted by the lack of activity here.

     

    This is hypothetical. What choices would you make if you were the final arbiter (organ consultant, builder, advisor, organist/DOM) for a new organ to fit into an historic organ case on a West End gallery in a medium-large parish church with a generous acoustic in a medium/large city? Main case and chair case (the chair case may be ditched). Money no object. Uses include parish worship with traditional (Choral Evensong) and modern (blended) services, Civic services, recitals, and concerts.

    Those last three points – historic double case, money no object, mixed use – pose, in their interdependece, the pivotal problem in this interesting question.

     

    If there is a historic double case, then I would expect it to have hosted an 8' organ, 12' at best, without space provided for a full pedal division and limited space for a swell box. With a clever stoplist and good voicing, one might end up with a stylish, versatile organ of modest size and interesting sound. To venture a guess, I would expect a limit to the number of stops at 40, more probably 35 (perhaps Great 10, Chair 8, Swell 10, Pedal 7).

     

    Unlimited means, however, tend to compromise intelligent concepts in favour of stoplists that don’t match the case, neither in size nor in style. It always seems so easy to come up with a stoplist that should do everything required – but matching it to the actual situation can be a real challenge. The late Stephen Bicknell was most outspoken about this, and did not spare his own work.

     

    That said, it would seem to me the best way to find a builder who has shown the ability to cope with such a situation in a sensible, empathic, sincere and musical way, and ask him/her for a proposal. Starting from there, one might well find oneself ending up exactly there again, after some debate.

     

    Best,

    Friedrich

  13. The first time I heard a full-size organ by Peter Collins was in the recording of Kenneth Leighton's organ concerto with the late John Scott, recorded in St David's Hall, Cardiff. In the recording, the organ gives a most intense and telling impression, well-structured and clear. And I liked the casework I saw on NPOR. Maybe I felt at home with it because it comes close to much work of the better German builders of his generation.

     

    I got to know one of his box organs fairly well, which is situated in Freiburg. It is a fabulously versatile instrument (8 4 4 2 1 1/3) that substituted very successfully for an energetic French-leaning II/30, and is much beloved with musicians and the congregation.

     

    What I found very appealing were some of the little improvements, e. g. a bench with two footrests, one higher up; a loose leather collar that connects the blower box and organ, simply and reliably; pull-out brass handles, small but thoroughly reliable; a leather pouch (voc?) under the keys instead of a strip of felt, providing a most comfortable touch.

     

    The organist told me that Peter Collins was a very pleasant man, with natural skill and a good sense of humour. Having delivered the organ, he set it down in the church, and it gave the tiniest of bumps. A nut came rolling out. Peter Collins, still clutching the box, lifted his head with a somewhat devious grin and commented: And it's only the first day!

     

    Best wishes

    Friedrich

  14. Last Sunday I attended Cameron Carpenter’s all-Bach recital at a packed Berlin Philharmonie. Carpenter made ample use of all the resources of the large Schuke organ, which includes two stage divisions with visible sets of shutters on either side of the choir seats.

    There was a printed programme, which however just contained an essay on Bach’s organ music in general. Carpenter was to announce his programme on the spot, in English (having lived in Berlin for several years now, he deemed his German “still terrible”). He entered to big applause, hopped on the bench and started immediately with the first movement of the C-major Concerto BWV 595 after prince Johann Ernst, in a very flashy and amply ornamented version, shutters a-flutter throughout, that all but brought the audience to their feet.

    Then he announced phantasy and fugue in C minor BWV 537. He rendered it in a dramatic Lully-, or rather Marchand-like fashion, with many roulades and trills added and in a large Grand-jeu registration; the contrasting sections were articulated in lombardic, or scotch-snap, style and played on the full foundations. For the fugue, he employed the 16’ choruses and pedal reeds, again with much shutter activity, the only problem being that the shutters tended to rattle when being closed. He played the ending with a large penultimate ritardando and then finished resolutely and quickly. Again, the audience was enthusiastic.

    He the announced two pieces in the key of G: the French suite no. 5 and the first setting of “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland” from the Leipzig chorales. The suite, I confess, was my all-night favourite. Carpenter opened up the texture completely, often playing delicate trios: e.g. a Quintadena with tremulant and a soft Gedeckt in the manuals, being swapped for repeats, over an 8’ Gamba in the pedal. Everything was meticulously phrased and articulated, and he seemed to relish in the singing lines of the sparing polyphony. Pure bliss. The Bourrée he turned into a trumpet tune (if you look at it, you plainly see how he got the idea). In the following chorale, he used lombardic rhythm in the accompaniment, and played the solo line with the stage Trichterflöte 2’ two octaves down, which brought in a beautifully singing principal colour. He first held back the tempo for the coda and then let the line flow very expressively to the end. There was a long and breathless pause after that, before the audience finally gave their applause – big, but rather more serious.

    Last piece before the interval was P&F in D BWV 532. Guess how the pedal scale was executed – yes, in octaves, cleanly articulated, and fast. Choruses with pedal reeds first, then, for the pedal point section, full foundations and constant playing on three manuals; the D-major flourish with an Elgar-like sforzato–crescendo. Light foundations for the concerto section, entering crescendo later on; for the end again Grand-jeu, introduced by an improvised manual cadenza. The fugue was quick and well articulated, always being kept on three to four manuals and employing much thumbing-down, all flawlessly executed. CC made opening-up the texture a sport, and a treat to listen to. Towards the end, he more and more enriched the, already virtuosic, texture with embellishments, and ended, again, flashy. The audience was enthusiastic.

    After the interval, he started with the great B-minor P&F BWV 544. Here things became interesting. As in the French suite, he undertook to completely open up the texture, systematically employing three categories of sound: reed, principals, foundations – on all dynamic levels available. He began with the (French-toned, delicate) Oboe, answered by a lone Diapason, and then being supported by full pedal foundations. He stuck to this analytical approach through the prelude and much of the fugue, in the concluding third of which he blended the colours, developing a crescendo towards the end. This bare-bones kind of approach I found quite daring, as well as enlightening – also because it was much closer to Webern than to Virgil.

    After that, he improvised on »Jesu, meine Freude«, starting from one of the Bach settings from the well-known a-cappella motet – in an all-out Tutti, still modified by much shutter activity. Carpenter first demonstrated how close the tune was to Dupré’s “(Cortège et) Litanie”, quickly turning, however, to blues-y tones. In two verses, he used double pedal, playing the chorale with his right foot under a lively big-band-like accompaniment. He ended, quite modestly, with two trailing-off manual solos.

    He then took to »O Mensch, bewein’« from the Orgelbüchlein, again in a surprising, as well as thought-provoking, fashion. In English cathedral style, he started the solo line on the big horizontal reed, accompanied by an all-boxes full-swell sound, built up to a Tutti and then receding for the last two lines to the original registration. My first reaction was, of course, “This is all wrong” – but is it, then? The solo Reed had an authoritative, preaching character, and the full-swell accompaniment brings in a very conservative element (mark you, in a concert-hall setting). After all, this is a piece about dogma – and a questionable one at that, aiming at injecting a feeling of mortal guilt into the christian soul. Before starting on his improvisation, Cameron had introduced the piece saying “Whenever ‘Sunde gross’ is mentioned, I get interested”, and I believe coming from him, that’s more than just banter. I may be completely wrong here, but I think you could hear this interpretation as CC’s sincere comment on what the text, and the music, convey.

    He finished with his own arrangement of Bach-Busoni’s Chaconne after BWV 1004/5. Very virtuosic, showing the full range of his manual and pedal abilities and the organ’s range of colour and dynamics. He got a standing, and responded, of course, with another version of his »Evolutionary« version of the D-minor toccata.

    This was a heart-rate rising concert experience, not only of some provocative interpretations, but also of organ playing perfect as well as passionate, bringing out – and sometimes exceeding – all the passion and excellence that is present in Bach’s keyboard writing. What I took home from it, except high spirits, was a sense of being wary not to underestimate that man again.

    Best wishes,

    Friedrich

  15. Last Sunday I attended Cameron Carpenter’s all-Bach recital at a packed Berlin Philharmonie. Carpenter made ample use of all the resources of the large [link=http://www.schuke-berlin.de/img/Download/Berlin%20Philharmonie.pdf]Schuke organ[/link], which includes two stage divisions with visible sets of shutters on either side of the choir seats.

    There was a printed programme, which however just contained an essay on Bach’s organ music in general. Carpenter was to announce his programme on the spot, in English (having lived in Berlin for several years now, he deemed his German “still terrible”). He entered to big applause, hopped on the bench and started immediately with the first movement of the C-major Concerto BWV 595 after prince Johann Ernst, in a very flashy and amply ornamented version, shutters a-flutter throughout, that all but brought the audience to their feet.

    Then he announced phantasy and fugue in C minor BWV 537. He rendered it in a dramatic Lully-, or rather Marchand-like fashion, with many roulades and trills added and in a large Grand-jeu registration; the contrasting sections were articulated in lombardic, or scotch-snap, style and played on the full foundations. For the fugue, he employed the 16’ choruses and pedal reeds, again with much shutter activity, the only problem being that the shutters tended to rattle when being closed. He played the ending with a large penultimate ritardando and then finished resolutely and quickly. Again, the audience was enthusiastic.

    He the announced two pieces in the key of G: the French suite no. 5 and the first setting of “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland” from the Leipzig chorales. The suite, I confess, was my all-night favourite. Carpenter opened up the texture completely, often playing delicate trios: e.g. a Quintadena with tremulant and a soft Gedeckt in the manuals, being swapped for repeats, over an 8’ Gamba in the pedal. Everything was meticulously phrased and articulated, and he seemed to relish in the singing lines of the sparing polyphony. Pure bliss. The Bourrée he turned into a trumpet tune (if you look at it, you plainly see how he got the idea). In the following chorale, he used lombardic rhythm in the accompaniment, and played the solo line with the stage Trichterflöte 2’ two octaves down, which brought in a beautifully singing principal colour. He first held back the tempo for the coda and then let the line flow very expressively to the end. There was a long and breathless pause after that, before the audience finally gave their applause – big, but rather more serious.

    Last piece before the interval was P&F in D BWV 532. Guess how the pedal scale was executed – yes, in octaves, cleanly articulated, and fast. Choruses with pedal reeds first, then, for the pedal point section, full foundations and constant playing on three manuals; the D-major flourish with an Elgar-like sforzato–crescendo. Light foundations for the concerto section, entering crescendo later on; for the end again Grand-jeu, introduced by an improvised manual cadenza. The fugue was quick and well articulated, always being kept on three to four manuals and employing much thumbing-down, all flawlessly executed. CC made opening-up the texture a sport, and a treat to listen to. Towards the end, he more and more enriched the, already virtuosic, texture with embellishments, and ended, again, flashy. The audience was enthusiastic.

    After the interval, he started with the great B-minor P&F BWV 544. Here things became interesting. As in the French suite, he undertook to completely open up the texture, systematically employing three categories of sound: reeds, principals, foundations – on all dynamic levels available. He began with the (French-toned, delicate) Oboe, answered by a lone Diapason, and then being supported by full pedal foundations. He stuck to this analytical approach through the prelude and much of the fugue, in the concluding third of which he blended the colours, developing a crescendo towards the end. This bare-bones kind of approach I found quite daring, as well as enlightening – also because it was much closer to Webern than to Virgil.

    After that, he improvised on »Jesu, meine Freude«, starting from one of the Bach settings from the well-known a-cappella motet – in an all-out Tutti, still modified by much shutter activity. Carpenter first demonstrated how close the tune was to Dupré’s “(Cortège et) Litanie”, quickly turning, however, to blues-y tones. In two verses, he used double pedal, playing the chorale with his right foot under a lively big-band-like accompaniment. He ended, quite modestly, with two trailing-off manual solos.

    He then took to »O Mensch, bewein’« from the Orgelbüchlein, again in a surprising, as well as thought-provoking, fashion. In English cathedral style, he started the solo line on the big horizontal reed, accompanied by an all-boxes full-swell sound, built up to a Tutti and then receding for the last two lines to the original registration. My first reaction was, of course, “This is all wrong” – but is it, then? The solo Reed had an authoritative, preaching character, and the full-swell accompaniment brings in a very conservative element (mark you, in a concert-hall setting). After all, this is a piece about dogma – and a questionable one at that, aiming at injecting a feeling of mortal guilt into the christian soul. Before starting on his improvisation, Cameron had introduced the piece saying “Whenever ‘Sunde gross’ is mentioned, I get interested”, and I believe coming from him, that’s more than just banter. I may be completely wrong here, but I think you could hear this interpretation as CC’s sincere comment on what the text, and the music, convey.

    He finished with his own arrangement of Bach-Busoni’s Chaconne after BWV 1004/5. Very virtuosic, showing the full range of his manual and pedal abilities and the organ’s range of colour and dynamics. He got a standing, and responded, of course, with another version of his »Evolutionary« version of the D-minor toccata.

    This was a heart-rate rising concert experience, not only of some provocative interpretations, but also of organ playing perfect as well as passionate, bringing out – and sometimes exceeding – all the passion and excellence that is present in Bach’s keyboard writing. What I took home from it, except high spirits, was a sense of being wary not to underestimate that man again.

    Best wishes,

    Friedrich

  16. If youve got it, flaunt it !

     

    This is a truly international story: Grenzing is an Austrian building in Spain for a major French radio station.

    True, Grenzing is one of the most interesting builders, and it's really exciting that he now gets so much attention internationally. Just for the record -- he is not Austrian, but East-Prussian by birth. He was born in Insterburg (perhaps confused with Innsbruck?), which is now a small town within the Kaliningrad enclave by the name of Chernyakhovsk (not as easy on the throat, that one). He apprenticed with Rudolph von Beckerath, and his organs show traits of this upbringing, e. g. slider chests arranged in major thirds, generous cases, top-quality tracker action, solid choruses with a true North-German ring.

     

    Grenzing himself claims that his major inspiration, apart form his Beckerath training, are the historic organs from Spain and Catalonia, especially those built by Jordi Bosch. Grenzing's style of scaling and voicing of both flues and reeds, and consequently his stoplists, can be surprising for someone from the English tradition. E. g., a 4' Clarion just might not be necessary within the sonic frame of his Great, or even his Swell.

     

    Grenzing uses generous scaling, but voices on relatively light pressures, even for large spaces. At the core of his recipe seems to be blend rather than power. His reed construction and voicing leans heavily on what he learned form restoring Iberian instruments, and I think the results are wonderfully musical, and show great variety soundwise. His largest organs, of near-identical design, were Niigata concert hall and Madrid Almudena, and after that Brussels cathedral, the latter with some quite original solutions architecturally.

     

    What I find most interesting with Grenzing is the mixture of organ reform achievements, by now a rather conservative trait, and his innovative approach about what he learned from older instruments and applied to his new ones.

     

    The Radio France instrument will be his largest to date. From what i have heard, he might even be considered for an even more spectacular job coming up in Northern Germany, but that is still just a rumor. It would be the crowning glory of every organbuilder's work, though.

     

    Best wishes

    Friedrich

  17. 1 foots - now I happen to think they can be quite special when used judiciously. On a three manual instrument I don't know if they are better off on the Swell or Choir, but maybe an interesting idea would be to have a great diapason chorus of 16 8 (5/1/3?) 4, 2\2\3, 2, 1/3/5, 1/1/3, (1/1/7?), 1. Would there be any need for a mixture too if that lot of mutations were available? Or how about having a mixture stop in addition, that when drawn would activate all the mutations whether already drawn or not?

    As to this kind of chorus, I believe the one on the Methuen Great is pretty much what you think of, if the chorus is topped by the Cornet GD Harrison put together from Walcker pipes (it starts 2 2/3 + 2 + 1 3/5 + 1 1/3 and gains 4 and 8-foot ranks at TC and TG respectively; there also are a 5 1/3' and 1 1/7' ranks available separately).

     

    Would there be any need for a mixture? Yes, definitely. Scaling, voicing and breaks make the mixture what it is supposed to be. Not just a series of harmonics, but a source of brightness, intensity and complexity over the whole compass. With non-breaking, single ranks the sound of the higher ranks would be forced to trail off as it approaches the treble, and the Twelfth and Fifth lose their colour as they blend in the high-pitched glitter. There is nothing that could replace a real, well-scaled and well laid-out mixture. It makes or breaks an organ. (Sorry, Aristide.)

     

    Best wishes

    Friedrich

  18. With sub and super couplers, scaling plays a major role. If the scaling leaves the usual 17th-halving ratio, you have to take into account that the respective progression is pulled up or down to the unison (not to mention mixture compositions, divided pressures etc). It’s much more complicated and incalculable than one would think if one reads the term “Super Octave Great”, at least in my opinion.

     

    E. g., the muddying effect of a Cavaillé-Coll sub coupler is relatively small because generally the treble ascendancy is so strong (sometimes beyond 20th, if I recall correctly) that the basic, treble-heavy structure is not disturbed, especially since the pedal departments usually are well-equipped to carry the resulting grand sound. There are few original super octave couplers to be found in C-C’s organs (one of them in the Récit at Saint-Ouen, one of the most complete divisions of its kind). With that much treble ascendancy, the sound would probably end up a general screech if they were applied to other departments.

     

    If the progression is more level than with C-C, the screeching effect would be easier contained, but the danger of muddying the structure by adding the sub couplers would increase. If the progression is bass-heavy, I don’t see the use of any intra-divisional sub coupler.

     

    But finally, it all depended on the music you play on the thing. I can imagine that, for accompanimental purposes, it might be quite nice to generate a string chorus that encompasses the choir in a 16-8-4 cloud of shimmering sound. There is still the bass line to define the harmonic progression, and with a good choir, you would not neccessarily have to provide proper voice-leading at all moments. Voice-leading, on the other hand, will always be impaired by subs and supers. Not to mention their availability on tracker action. (Which makes me notice that we are talking about at least three different types on instrument here – English cathedral, French cathedral, classical.)

     

    Best

    Friedrich

  19. Looking at the discussion about the new American RC cathedral organ raised a few comments about stops with limited purpose. That got me thinking, what would be either the most pointless stops on an organ, or the stops that you would least ever need to use?

     

    In many organs, its the pedal 32-foot. Any 32-foot. It often is squeezed in even before there is a complete chorus to mixture or reeds at 16-8-4, or even well-scaled 16' and 8' open ranks, which would make the stupid and expensive thing redundant.

     

    For much the same reasons -- too small rooms, gaping holes in the stoplist, no musically meaningful use possible -- the Tuba often is a close second.

     

    But keep those mutations, by all means! Organ sound without them, in my ears, is in immediate danger of boring its listeners to death.

     

    Best

    Friedrich

  20. Thanks Friedrich - in your penultimate sentence... would you include 17ths??

    I positively love those and the bite they produce, e. g. in Silbermann’s or Ladegast’s choruses (rather less so in E. F. Walcker’s). But I appreciate that many others find them over the top.

     

    Best

    Friedrich

  21. Does anyone have ready access to a manual 5 1/3 stop, and if they do, what combination needs to be drawn to reap that stop's full value?

    I don’t, but I know one when I hear one. More often than not, you find it in multirank mixtures in the upper half of the keyboard. If the mixture is drawn without a physical double present, you will hear that “sort of growl” mentioned in the two posts above. Depending on the quality of the voicing, this can sound either like a dirty smear under the unison line, or rather like an attractive colour to the chorus. By the way, this isolated effect tends to diminish if in the respective music the chorus is supported by a powerful bass line, preferably including a 16'-reed.

     

    With these kind of off-unison ranks, much seems to depend on scaling. The late Stephen Bicknell kept insisting that it would do no good to emasculate chorus twelfths (or fifths) too much if the desired effect was blend and power. In his 1998/99 Choir and Organ series, quoting examples of his own experience, he held that uniform scaling of all ranks (the “straight-line chorus”) was indispensible for that. As for off-unison flutes, he stated that large scales did the trick rather than timid attempts at colour.

     

    That said, if a large space houses a big organ, I quite like the complexity of a well-balanced 16'-chorus complete with fifths, twelfths and everything. It is a grand sound that goes well with a lot of music.

     

    Best

    Friedrich

  22. What an interesting specification, thank you for posting.

     

    I've never encountered double enclosure before and wonder if anyone can enlighten me as to its musical benefit and perhaps links to other instruments that use this system?

     

    Schoenstein of San Francisco use it a lot in their boxes. It means basically to insert a second set of shutters inside the box, somewhat down the chest. Usually, the second enclosure contains what is needed for a full-Swell effect – mixtures and fiery, high-pressure reeds (or reed units), and/or a Vox humana. The apparatus aims at still more control and nuance. Here's a picture – note the tunnel-like depth of the box.

     

    I imagine it helps to further soften the transition from fully-shut to slightly open, which is usually the most noticeable jump in loudness. I guess, though, that you would need really keen sounds inside the second enclosure if you want to overcome the usual loss of character that comes with boxed pipes. Being a champion of the sound of pipes in the open, I watch with suspicion such attempts at taming down the sound even more.

     

    Best,

    Friedrich

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