Introduction

Iberian organ music to c1700 is traditional, in that the principles of composition in the works of composers of the siglo de oro, such as Morales and Victoria, are essentially maintained in the various types of organ music through the seventeenth century. There is the lasting impression that, although ornamentation and registration are becoming increasingly elaborate, the musical motet style of c1500 provides the basic technical structure right up to Cabanilles; colour and elaboration are applied within this style rather than constituting a part of some new way of composing, as in French or German late seventeenth-century organ music. Iberian composers, however they may compare for progressiveness and even technical ability with their contemporaries in other European countries, show tremendous musical expressiveness and conviction in their works. It is conspicuous that composers of vocal music (e.g. Morales, Guerrero, Cebollas, Victoria) and those for organ described here are almost mutually exclusive. Organists did not always occupy the position of maestro de capilla: Cabezón was musico de cámara y capilla to Philip II, Aguilera's position in Huesca (Aragon) was designated Portionarius et organis praeceptor, while Correa de Arauxo and Cabanilles were organists in Seville and Valencia respectively. Most likely there were regional characteristics: Francisco Peraza, Diego del Castillo as well as Correa lived in Seville, while Aguilera, Jimenez and Bruna were active in Zaragoza, but because of the relatively small quantity of surviving music and instruments any definite conclusions could be misleading.

J. S. Bach's modest response to compliments on his organ playing is perhaps the most authoritative and succinct account of that art. However, playing ‘the right notes at the right time’ on the organ is more complicated than it may at first appear. Although organists do not produce the tone of their instrument and are unable to create variations of dynamics and timbre through touch, crafting a musical line from the static quality of organ sound demands an extremely sensitive approach to articulation and to timing the notes that make a musical phrase. The art of playing the organ resides almost exclusively in articulation and timing; these nuances are what distinguishes the organist's technique of touch from that of typists and stenographers, who are also concerned with striking the right keys. For the latter, the way the keys are depressed and released matters little as long as the text is captured in print as quickly as possible. In order to make music on the organ, however, a mechanical approach to accuracy is insufficient; the organist must cultivate different ways of depressing and releasing keys to create the musical nuances possible in other instruments where the tone is produced by the player.

The dynamic stability of the organ makes it ideal for the performance of counterpoint since each line is heard at approximately the same loudness and timbre throughout the compass of any combination of stops. It is not surprising that the instrument’s most cherished repertoire is contrapuntal, because the independence of the parts is brought out by the uniformity of organ tone. The player’s task is to articulate each line of polyphony so that it can be heard clearly, even in reverberant acoustical settings.

The notation of music is at best an approximation of the timbre, quality and placement of sounds in time. Musicians universally rely upon aural traditions to fill in notational gaps, and this is especially true in keyboard training, which usually takes place in individual lessons where the teacher instructs the pupil through verbal descriptions and practical demonstrations. Traditions of interpretation are passed from generation to generation through this personal contact where ambiguities arising from the descriptions can be clarified by the demonstrations. Over time, changing musical aesthetics are reflected in changing approaches to interpretation, so that the performance traditions for earlier musics are gradually transformed. This is especially true for the organ's vast repertoire, which spans a wide chronological and geographical spectrum with many variations in musical style and organ building. To perform this music convincingly today, it may be helpful to assess relevant information preserved in historical organs, treatises on keyboard technique, and sources of music. This chapter presents a selective historical overview of fingering, ornamentation and rhythmic alteration as practised in the performance of organ music until the time of Bach.

Sixteenth-century German sources

The first written sources to describe aspects of organ-playing technique date from the sixteenth century, when instrumental music was developing independently of vocal forms and printing enabled experts to disseminate their teaching through practical tutors. The earliest of these for organists was published in Mainz in 1511 by Arnolt Schlick. Entitled Spiegel der Orgelmacher und Organisten, the treatise deals with such pragmatic issues as constructing a smooth responsive action and voicing pipes well. His infrequent remarks on performance concern the organist’s position at the instrument [113] and provide guidelines on registration.

The organ and liturgy stand in close relationship. The construction of organs in the churches of Western Christendom, and their use in its liturgies, is the phenomenon to which is owed the existence of most of our organ literature. Our critical appreciation of organ music is deeply coloured by a knowledge of the context of its composition and performance, including inevitably the liturgical conditions which gave it purpose and shape. Without such knowledge some of the repertory can be unintelligible, and much of it less rich in significance.

There are obvious reasons why the organ was developed within the context of liturgical buildings and liturgical purpose. In the history of Western civilisation it was the only single instrument capable of providing an adequate level and diversity of sound in large and sometimes acoustically intractable buildings. This is still true today, if we except electro-acoustic options. To produce this mass of sound, it had the advantage of relative ease of operation though not of construction. Its place in ecclesiastical buildings was underwritten by scriptural authority, notably Psalm 150 with its reference to ‘laudate eum in chordis et organo’, whatever the significance of the vulgate term ‘organo’ is against the Hebrew original. As to its desirable effect on the faithful, Cardinal Bona had little doubt: ‘the sound of the organ’, he wrote in his De divina psalmodia (Paris, 1663), ‘brings joy to the sorrowful soul, evokes the happiness of the heavenly city, rouses the lazy, refreshes the watchful, induces love in the just, and brings the sinner to repentance’.

When J. S. Bach applied for the post of organist at the Jakobikirche in Hamburg in 1720 he had hoped to inherit one of the most famous organs in north Germany (see Figure 15.1). Like many of the finest organs of the period it was an instrument that had been enlarged several times over, most recently by the most famous of all north German builders, Arp Schnitger. Earlier builders including members of the Scherer family had contributed to the fifty-three-stop instrument of three manuals and pedals recorded by Michael Praetorius (Praetorius 1619/1985: 168), and in 1635 Gottfried Fritzsche had added a fourth manual and new Rückpositiv. Schnitger, who had just completed an enormous instrument for the nearby Nikolaikirche (four manuals, with sixty-seven stops including a 32′ Posaune as well as a 32′ Principal for the case), completely replaced all the workings of the organ, keeping most of the flue pipework but adding a new set of fourteen reed stops. Bach made no secret of his admiration for the north German organs he encountered, and had the greatest respect for particular celebrated combinations of player and instrument, notably Johann Reincken at the Katharinenkirche in Hamburg, Georg Böhm at the Johanniskirche in Lüneburg, and Dieterich Buxtehude at the Marienkirche in Lübeck.

Recently it has once again become possible to experience something of the overwhelming power and beauty of one of these large north German instruments that Bach knew. The organ at the Jakobikirche in Hamburg survived the Second World War by being temporarily dismantled, and in 1993, exactly 300 years after Schnitger finished his work on the instrument, Jürgen Ahrend rebuilt the organ in its Schnitger form, having already benefited from the experience of restoring other notable Schnitger instruments in the Netherlands and Germany.

Pre-Reformation organ music

No English organ music from before 1500 has survived. There are a few earlier instances that are sometimes cited, but they can all be discounted for one reason or another. The pieces in the Robertsbridge Codex, which date from about 1320, are probably of French or Italian origin, despite the fact that they have been preserved in England (Caldwell 1973: 1–9). The Buxheimer Orgelbuch, compiled in Germany about 1470, includes transcriptions of some sacred and secular vocal pieces by John Dunstable, but these are only intabulations by a German organist and not original keyboard settings by Dunstable. One other piece sometimes thought to be an early example of English organ music is an anonymous Felix namque copied about 1420 (Dart 1954: 201; Caldwell 1973: 14), but this is more likely to be a simple piece of vocal discant.

It is not until the first half of the sixteenth century that a large corpus of genuine English organ music is to be found. In this pre-Reformation period in England, most of the organ music is strictly liturgical in function, being designed for performance at specific points during the Mass and Office. The pre-Reformation period can be said to extend up to the accession of Elizabeth I in 1558, for, despite the introduction of the first Book of Common Prayer in 1549, the Latin rite was fully restored in the reign of Mary (1553–8). The main two composers around the middle of the century were John Redford (c1486–1547) and Thomas Preston (active in the 1540s and 50s), who were followed by Thomas Tallis (c1505–85) and William Blitheman (died 1591), most of whose liturgical organ music probably dates from the reign of Mary.

The craft of organ building remains today essentially the same as it was during the development of the organ in the middle ages. Although machinery can be employed to save time and perform repetitive tasks, the core crafts of woodwork and metalwork remain at the heart of the industry. Moreover, although the metal pipes are the most distinctive feature of an organ, it is the wooden structure of the instrument that absorbs the bulk of the organ builder's time and effort. Wood remains an astonishingly useful and versatile material. Weight for weight, it is stronger than steel. Despite the alarming deforestation of the planet, a conscientious workshop can find supplies of many different species and grades of timber from renewable sources. Timber is the ideal material for custom building anything; with relatively simple equipment it can be formed into virtually any shape and adapted to almost any purpose – including, in organ building, complex air-tight components containing many moving parts.

The structure of an organ consists of a frame (usually still of solid timber, though some builders use steel) and a case. Very often, especially in small instruments or those inspired by historic precedent, the frame and case are integrated in a monocoque structure. In the Anglo-American tradition of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries organ builders did not concern themselves much with casework – its design often left to architects and its construction to specialist joiners – but still used wood for supporting framework. Even an organ with no case, such as those built by Walter Holtkamp and others with the pipes on open display (mid-twentieth century) will still have the familiar wooden structure within.

Albert Schweitzer's status as a guru of twentieth-century organ building remains undiminished as the century draws to a close. The application of his intellect to an obscure musical craft remains a surprise to those who know him more as a philosopher, missionary and philanthropist. In fact the study of Bach and the organ was the major preoccupation of his early career and was a matter that he took as seriously as any other intellectual endeavour.

In this personal admission Schweitzer explains in the simplest possible terms why the organ, dependent on the technology and craft techniques of the middle ages and, at best, a complex and intractable means of making music, remains of enduring interest in a later age where entirely different technologies rule our daily lives (see Joy 1953: 186–213).

Twenty years ago – indeed perhaps at any time between 1930 and 1980 – it would have been obvious to explain Schweitzer's mission in terms of the classical revival: the Orgelbewegung or organ reform movement, built round the rediscovery of early instruments and the corresponding repertoire. In fact, though Schweitzer deplored the heaviness and (as he saw it) crudity of the average organ of c1900, he also had a message that links him to Ruskin and William Morris.

The organ is unique amongst musical instruments in that it makes an architectural contribution to the building in which it stands. This is not solely on account of size: the layout and decoration of organ cases has traditionally been a branch of architectural design with its own grammar and traditions, but still allowing free interpretation according to changing fashions, local influences, and the skills of the designer and organ builder.

The organ case has an effect on the sound of the organ, though this may be difficult to define. For the neo-classical builders of the mid-twentieth century the revival of the traditional organ case – with side walls, back and roof – was an important argument in the ideology of organ reform. The casework was believed to focus the sound, assist the blend of the various ranks of pipes and project the sound into the room (usually down the main axis of the building). There is still considerable debate as to whether the organ case is essentially a passive structure, like a loudspeaker cabinet, or whether it has an active role as a resonator, bringing it more into line with other musical instruments where the body or soundboard is vital in creating power and timbre.

In practice many variations are possible, and as with other factors in the design and building of organs, success is not dependent on this element alone. If one allows that good organs exist in many forms and from many different periods, then one must acknowledge the success, on their own terms, of organs built in less than ideal cases or indeed without any case at all.

In 1845, Félix Danjou, the director of the French firm of organ builders Daublaine-Callinet, writing in the first edition of his magazine Revue de la musique réligieuse, populaire et classique, commented on the state of German organ composition:

Danjou's generalisations on the music of the Thuringian Christian Heinrich Rinck (1770–1846) and the Silesian Adolf Friedrich Hesse (1809–1863), composers who might be said to have laid the foundations for nineteenth-century German organ music, while having an element of truth, are one-sided and not entirely accurate – for example, both composers wrote in equal measure in the legato fugal style and in the free variation manner. If organ music had failed to maintain the lofty standards of J. S. Bach, one has to look at least a hundred years earlier and to forces external to music for the causes of decline. Movements in philosophy and the arts such as Aufklärung (Enlightenment) and Empfindsamkeit (sensibility) had challenged accepted norms and traditions. The Church lost its centrality in society, and had to compete with man's growing belief in his own self-sufficiency, as well as with a rise in nationalistic fervour.

The early nineteenth century

In her major study of American organ building, Orpha Ochse notes that ‘the early nineteenth-century American organ was an instrument without a repertoire’ (Ochse 1975: 111ff.). Although various method books included examples of original organ compositions, improvisation was a mainstay of church organists well into the nineteenth century. Nineteenth-century organ builders inherited traditions of eighteenthcentury organ building in the English and German styles. David Tannenberg's last organ, built in 1804 for Christ Lutheran Church, York, Pennsylvania, shows his German heritage (Armstrong 1967: 110). An early three-manual instrument by William Goodrich of Boston for the First Presbyterian Church, New Orleans, Louisiana (1815–20) shows English influence (Owen 1979: 425):

The roots of eclecticism, the juxtaposition and reconciliation of diverse elements, run deep in American society. The mixture of various national traditions, fascination with technical complexity, innovation and experimentation (‘tinkering’) were natural parts of an organ culture separated from the regional traditions of Europe. For example, William Goodrich owned a copy of Dom Bédos's L'Art du Facteur d'Orgues. With regard to organ building traditions in New England, Owen points out that ‘the teachers were American and the subject matter was English, but the textbook was French’ (Owen 1979: 45).

By mid-century, American-born musicians had written and published a repertoire of literature and instruction books (Owen 1979: 109ff.; Owen 1975–91). American Church Organ Voluntaries, published in 1856 by A. N. Johnson, was the first anthology of organ music compiled and published by an American-born composer.

The symphonic tradition in French organ music that was to find its first real expression in the works of César Franck had its roots in the period that followed the French Revolution of 1789.

This so-called ‘post-classical’ era has often been criticised as a time when musical quality fell sharply after the glories of the ‘Grand Siècle’, but there were important cultural reasons for the changes in public taste that many organists felt obliged to follow. Furthermore, one must distinguish between the music that composers published (often very light in character) and their reputations as performers and improvisers.

The ‘Terror’ that followed the revolution, when thousands were executed or arrested as ‘enemies of the Revolution’ also marked the secularisation of the Church: her assets were seized and services abolished, leaving organists (and organ builders) without a livelihood. The churches themselves were used as storerooms, barracks or stables and many organs were sold or destroyed. Stories abound of organists trying to save their instruments by playing patriotic songs, thus following a musical trend that was to reflect the political and military mood of the time. The foundation of the Conservatoire in 1795 and the increasing interest in opera heralded a musical liberation that would mark a decline in solemn church music. Napoleon was not slow to appreciate the power of music as a propaganda tool, asking composers to write music that would glorify his armies: this was the era of ‘battle’ pieces that were by no means confined to the orchestra.

Temperament

It is not improbable that a high proportion of the readership of this book will have accepted early in their musical education the principle of an octave being divided into twelve semitones of equal size, implicit within this being the notion of enharmonic notes and equal temperament tuning. Yet the second half of the twentieth century has seen an increasing preoccupation on the part of musicians with matters relating to heightened stylistic awareness in performance. Amongst players and makers of keyboard instruments quests for ‘historically informed’ or ‘authentic’ performances include the issues of pitch and temperament. For the organ, unlike the pianoforte, equal temperament tuning has been the universal norm for barely a century, but the current desire for enlightened performances of the pre-romantic repertoire has seen the rehabilitation of historically appropriate systems of tuning. As the keyboard instrument with the widest repertoire, the organ also has the richest heritage of historic instruments and artefacts. The issue of temperament is therefore of considerable significance with regard to restorations and for new instruments which seek to replicate historical styles.

The scope of this chapter is such that it can only attempt to provide an introduction to the concept and history of a very large and complex subject. The plan is threefold: first, to consider the principles of temperament, secondly, to consider three historically important systems (equal temperament, mean-tone temperaments, irregular temperaments), and thirdly, to consider the subject chronologically in relation to the repertoire and modern performance conditions.