ORGELPARK RESEARCH REPORT #5/1
Digital Historicism: the New Baroque Organ at the Orgelpark [Hans Fidom]
This window contains the complete text of Hans Fidom's contribution to Orgelpark Research Report #5/1. The window allows full-text search. Please use the paragraph numbers to reference specific text parts.
[21] The Orgelpark is to build a new organ with a dual function: to facilitate historically-informed performances of baroque organ music, more specifically the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, and to inspire composers and musicians to create new music. This essay addresses the ways in which this initiative has developed so far.
Introduction: The Challenge of the 21st Century
[22] Organs are not only musical instruments but also machines. Given that many organs have been preserved, in some instances for as long as six centuries, this duality allows them to render an especially fascinating aspect of Western history literally audible: their sounds provide clues as to how artistic wishes may have played a role in prompting technological developments through the centuries and vice versa. Three examples. The development of the note-channel wind-chest1 in the 16th century allowed for the first time the inclusion of other instruments’ sound colours in the organ. Two: the introduction of pneumatic relays in the 19th century made it possible to equip organs with far more large pipes (providing low frequencies) than ever before. Three: once able to control electricity in safe and reliable ways, an achievement of the early 20th century, all kinds of playing aids were invented, enabling organists to change sound colours quickly and easily. Listened to from this perspective, each organ becomes a mirror of its time and place, as the popular saying – at least among organ experts – goes.2
[23] The 21st century challenges us to rethink the interdependence of sound and technology regarding organs. The parameters this time are more complex, however. On the one hand, digital technology suggests new ways of making music using organ pipes. Recent experiences indicate that musicians find it most inspiring to be able to freely reorganise an organ’s sonic material and to enhance its spectrum by sampling and manipulating it using laptops and loudspeakers. At the same time, the 21st century has also seen another innovation regarding organbuilding: the Göteborg Organ Art Center developed the concept of “process reconstruction”, aimed at understanding the working methods 17th and 18th century organbuilders applied to their trade. One of the fascinating achievements of this project is the four manual organ in the Örgryte Nya Kirka in Gothenburg, inaugurated in 2000 and built according to Arp Schnitger’s rediscovered and reapplied techniques. Another example is housed in the Orgelpark: the reconstruction of the organ built in 1479 by Peter Gerritsz in the Nicolaïkerk in Utrecht3 is the result of meticulously “reconstructing” the way Gerritsz built the original instrument five and a half centuries ago. Projects like these suggest that the idea of uncovering and relearning ancient organbuilding skills is a very promising one.
[24] It was against this background that, in December 2012, the idea of building a new organ in the Orgelpark was born. As historically informed performances of both medieval and romantic music had repeatedly proved successful in the Orgelpark, not the least thanks to the Gerritsz organ reconstruction, the Aristide Cavaillé-Coll-inspired Verschueren organ (2009) and the restored Sauer organ (1922/2006), the need for an organ of comparable historic quality for 17th and 18th century music, especially that of Johann Sebastian Bach, became ever clearer. At the same time, the Orgelpark is one of the most important contemporary music venues in the Netherlands; the digital console of the Sauer organ, added to the instrument in 2011, allows the application of MIDI-protocols to play the organ and/or the use of the Orgelpark’s sound system as an integral part of the instrument.
[25] Both of these concepts were taken into consideration during the discussions about the new organ. Could they be combined in a single instrument? Our experiences with the Sauer organ gave us some indications of the rich potential presented by the combination of an existing historical sound concept with a means of manipulating its sound resources through the application of digital technology. The question which arose was this: would it be possible to build a historically-informed baroque organ and apply 21st century technology to it without compromising its 18th century concept?
[26] The solution seemed to be provided by the idea of equipping the organ with “spring chests”, an early form of note-channel wind-chests, developed in the 16th and 17th century. An essential characteristic of this type of wind-chest is that it provides a valve for every pipe. Controlling these valves electrically by adding an electromagnet to each would maximize the organist’s control over the pipes: the sound of any pipe would be combinable with that of any other pipe, in any order. Traditional organ systems are designed to allow pipes to be used as parts of larger groups, so-called “stops”, each representing a specific sound colour; such stops are, in turn, assigned to specific manuals. Whereas the digital technology applied to the Sauer organ allows the organist to use the stops freely, on whichever manual he or she might choose and thus allowing previously impossible stop combinations, the use of spring chests in the new baroque organ would allow the organist to disassociate every single pipe from its specific stop as well, thus representing the next step in the process.
[27] After extensive discussion of this solution, the Orgelpark has indeed decided to build a new organ. It will be playable from at least two consoles; a completely mechanical one, integrated into the main case of the instrument and the digital console used to play the Sauer organ, which will of course require renovation in order that the new organ can also be played from it. The organ will reference the instruments built by Zacharias Hildebrandt in the 18th century, not least because Johann Sebastian Bach commented favourably on them but also because the Orgelpark’s steering group for the “New Baroque Organ”, (the current working title for the project), agrees that these instruments sound breathtakingly beautiful.
[28] What follows is, in essence, a series of extended footnotes to what has already been stated. The first section maps the history of the application of historic organ concepts in new instruments, an archetypal facet of 20th century organbuilding. The subsequent counterpoint is provided by a short discussion of several contemporary organ concepts developed fairly recently. The third and fourth paragraphs consider the construction of the proposed organ in more practical details, with particular regard to the Hildebrandt sound concept and the effect digital technology will have on the player’s ability to access that concept.
The application of historic techniques in new organs
[29] Although organbuilders have, since the late 19th century, increasingly accepted 17th and 18th century organ concepts as important sources of inspiration, they generally preferred, at least until the early 1970s, to combine such age-old technology and sound concepts with modern ways of constructing organs, including the making and voicing of organ pipes. Developments during the inter-war era led to the development of the organ style known as “neo-baroque” in the years following World War II.4 Dutch organ expert and organist Lambert Erné summarised its characteristics in 1956 by describing the sound of his beloved and then brand new organ in the Nicolaïkerk in Utrecht in a catchy little poem. The organ was built by the Danish firm Marcussen, undisputedly one of the main players during the period in which the neo-baroque style was in the ascendency. The first verse of Erné’s poem reads: Hier staat nu ‘t orgel van de Deen / Zo scherp als dit vindt ge er geen. / Al gaat het u door merg en been, / voor ons blijft het toch nummer één!5
[30] Indeed, the sounds of neo-baroque organs differ significantly from those of “real” baroque organs, which are, to say the least, somewhat more elegant. Or, to paraphrase the idea that organs mirror their times: the sound of Erné’s organ reflects the energy that fuelled the rebuilding of society after the war.
[31] As was to be expected, at least with hindsight, some organists and organbuilders began to consider the differences between baroque and neo-baroque in a negative light: new organs should resemble, if not emulate, the sound of historic organs. In the 1970s, this development came to be labelled “historicism”, which, by the way, has nothing to do with the same word used by 19th century philosophers such as Hegel. Rather it refers simply to a way of building (and playing) organs in accordance with the precepts of what came to be known as “historically informed performance practice” or, the other common label, “early music”.
[32] An event that signified this change in attitude was the Arp Schnitger Memorial Festival at the Der Aa-kerk in Groningen in 1969 during which experts from all over the world gathered around the famous Schnitger organ, admired its wondrous sounds and agreed that striving for such beauty represented a far better goal in the designing of new organs than trying to develop new concepts. Thirty years later, instruments such as the organ in the Örgryte Nya Kirka in Gothenburg and the Gerritsz organ replica at the Orgelpark document the subsequent landmark in this development: these organs sound, at least to a significant number of listeners, like historic organs.
[33] This historicism in organbuilding was, however, not the only way the organ world dealt with historic organs in the context of building new ones (and, indeed, restoring old ones). One of the earliest and best known organists advocating baroque organs and organ music as sources of inspiration was Albert Schweitzer. As an organ student of Charles-Marie Widor at St Sulpice in Paris, he taught Widor to consider the texts of Bach’s chorale preludes in order to understand the music; the result was his book on Johann Sebastian Bach.6 With regard to organbuilding, however, it is Schweitzer’s companion Emil Rupp who deserves special mention here. Rupp considered Schweitzer “his friend” and claimed to have initiated the so-called “Alsatian Organ Reform” together with him. Be that as it may, Schweitzer rejected the concept of reform altogether and the initial result of the “Alsatian Organ Reform” was that it inspired leading organbuilder Oscar Walcker to add baroque-ish sounding stops to his otherwise German romantic organ concept. In doing so, Walcker slightly compromised the unity of his organs as an integrated artistic whole in which every sound colour plays its specific role. In other words, Walcker accepted, even if only to a limited extent, that one might also view organs as a rather random collection of sound colours.
[34] Insignificant as it may seem at first sight, this aesthetic re-orientation was soon to germinate what would ultimately become mainstream 20th century organbuilding. Large and influential organbuilding workshops, not to say factories, such as Steinmeyer and Klais, were among the first to follow Walcker’s example, prompted no doubt by the possibility of smoothening the strict attitudes to organbuilding the “Orgelbewegung” had come to signify during the inter-war years. The Orgelbewegung’s theories as expressed by, among others, Hans Henny Jahnn, Wilibald Gurlitt and Christhard Mahrenholz, resembled those of Schweitzer and Rupp to a considerable extent, the difference being that the Orgelbewegung’ protagonists were taking the next step in applying them in practice. In other words, a number of new organs were equipped with slider chests (the 17th century successor of the spring chest), mechanical action (i.e. the system connecting keys and wind chests) and a baroque-orientated sound concept. This appeared rather frightening to many potential organ buyers, the majority of whom were, understandably enough, quite conservative church council members. In particular, organbuilder Hans Klais developed a smart way of respecting both the Orgelbewegung’s energy and his clientele’s reluctance, by adding Orgelbewegung inspired stops to his otherwise still romantic organs.
[35] After the Second World War, neo-baroque organbuilders gave in to this trend as well. The Marcussen organ at the Oskarskyrkan in Stockholm, built in 1949, includes a huge swell division; a well-considered neo-baroque translation of Cavaillé-Coll’s “Récit”, whilst later Marcussen organs document ever-freer ways of equipping enclosed manual divisions. Today, most large organs, whether built by Klais, Rieger, or any other mainstream organbuilder, represent mixtures of several baroque and romantic concepts.
The development of new organs in the 20th century
[36] Whether the new organs followed strictly the principles of the neo-baroque style, or whether their concept was more mainstream, several organists, composers and organbuilders failed to be convinced of their merits as vehicles for contemporary music. As a consequence, several serious experiments in designing a ‘contemporary’ organ were undertaken.Texts such as Die Zukunft der Orgel by Arnold Schönberg (1904) or Die Orgel sprengt die Tradition by György Ligeti (1966)7 undoubtedly played their roles in stimulating this development. Schönberg suggested nothing less than reinventing the organ completely by reducing its size to about “1 1/2 times as large as a portable typewriter”, making it “playable by at least two to four” musicians simultaneously, having significantly fewer stops than traditional organs, and facilitating, in turn, a huge dynamic range, “for only dynamics make for clarity”.8 Not a word, by the way, about the “Klangfarbenmelodie” he introduced a few years later and which, due to its seeming suitability for the organ, seems at least to nuance the significance of his ideas about organs.9 Ligeti was attracted to the organ by its “yet not investigated possibilities regarding sound colours”,10 but far more by its “deficiencies – its clumsiness, rigidity and ruggedness.”11 His conclusion: the organ is a giant prosthesis. “It challenged me to find out how one might learn to walk again with this prosthesis.”12
[37] One of the main examples documenting how Ligeti met that challenge is his famous composition Volumina. Ligeti acknowledges that the musical idiom of Volumina is far from traditional, and that, as such, it represents a problematic point of view, as “the organ [...] is burdened by tradition. Traces of this burden are to be found in my work as well,”13 namely in the coming into existence of an “architecture that is merely a structure, lacking a tangible building. Strictness and solemnity is all that remains from the organ tradition; anything else gets lost in wide, empty spaces, the ‘Volumina’ of musical form.”14
[38] Following on from comparatively peripheral initiatives such as the organ Hans Henny Jahnn designed for the Lichtwarkschule in Hamburg in 1931, on which all stops were divided into male and female categories, the organ inaugurated in 1972 at St Peter’s in Sinzig was the first to meet the requirements articulated by Ligeti. It was designed by composer and organist Peter Bares, and built by Oscar Walcker’s grandson Werner Walcker-Mayer. After Bares had been fired from Sinzig in 1985, he was appointed at the Kunststation St.-Peter in Cologne in 1992, where he immediately started to redesign the Willi Peter organ according to the ideas developed at Sinzig, equipping the instrument with wind manipulation devices, a plethora of percussion instruments, programmable mixtures, unusual harmonics and even new stop families, such as the “Saxophones” - to name just a few of his many inventions. The organ was inaugurated in its new form in 2004. The improvisations by Bares, and especially those by his successor Dominik Susteck, document how this organ has inspired new music. As Randall Harlow says: “Listening to Susteck play the Cologne instruments, one is struck by a rich plasticity of sound. The strange high partials blend seamlessly with the shimmering percussion, building to a great roar, or sinking through warbling tones detuned through a shifting wind supply, a sound reminiscent of early Penderecki, Stockhausen’s electronic soundscapes, or contemporary spectralist composers such as Tristan Murail or Kaija Saariaho.”15
[39] Whereas Bares and Walcker applied electricity as a means to facilitate their ideal organ, the rise of historicism inspired organists such as Daniel Glaus to try and extend the organ’s dynamic possibilities in a completely different way. The project “Innov-Organ-Um”, initiated by Glaus and launched in 1999, aimed to build a mechanical organ at which the organist could manipulate the wind pressure in the pipes, and hence their sound colours and dynamics, by varying the key pressure. It resulted in several research organs, built by organbuilder Peter Kraul.16
[40] Yet another concept, once again completely differently orientated, is the self-tuning organ presented by organbuilder Voigt (Germany) in 2013 and constructed according to a system developed by Werner Mohrlok in which all pipes are equipped with devices enabling immediate adjustment of the tuning according to the music being played: sensors detect the combination of keys played by the organist, analyses which tuning would make the intervals sound pure and adjusts the tuning of the respective pipes – all in a split second. As a result, this organ (always) sounds purer than any organ to have come before it. As such it is reminiscent of the so-called “Fokker organ” housed in the Muziekgebouw in Amsterdam,17 which provides the organist 31 with keys per octave, thus allowing music-making with pure intervals. However, the Fokker organ is far more than just a new take on a traditionally-orientated instrument like the Voigt organ; its specific purpose is rather to facilitate microtonality.18
[41] Microtonality was also a goal sought by one of the most recent organ projects: the Woehl organ at Piteå, Sweden, inaugurated in 2012 and designed to include a so-called “harmonics division”, invented by the project’s initiator, Hans-Ola Ericsson. The division is intended to contain a little over 1000 pipes, allowing, for example, to assign even more than 31 pipes to one octave.
[42] Arnold Schönberg’s call for a portable organ has been answered especially in France. Among the organs designed by organist Jean Guillou, his most recent ideas illustrate a tendency to divide the instrument and make it both mobile and playable by more than one organist – Guillou names it “L’Orgue à Structure Variable”.19 The idea is comparable to that of the “Modulorgue”, designed by Daniel Birouste and Michaël Fourcade, partly in reaction to composer Jean-Louis Florentz’s ideal “Orgue-Mutations”.20 Each “module” of Birouste’s, literally modular, organ is basically a free-standing swell box housing a universal chest and a set of pipes; the modules can be connected to, and played from, a separate console. Each pipe is entirely independently manipulated via its own electrically-operated valve, the movement of which is controlled by the way in which the organist presses the keys. The concept was presented for the first time in 2007 in Aspiran.21
[43] The idea of manipulating combinations of pipes by controlling them individually was simultaneously being elaborated in Germany by Bene Aufterbeck and Thomas Stöckl, who together established their Sinua company in 2007. At the heart of their achievements is the organ at St Peter and Paul in Ratingen, Germany. The instrument, originally installed by Romanus Seifert in 1953, represents the aforementioned mainstream baroque-romantic sound concept; not really interesting in itself, but becoming rather interesting as soon as the Sinua software is activated, for example to help compose new stops, to enhance the dynamic qualities of the organ, or to have a group of organists play it, instead of just one.
[44] Indeed, the integration of digital technology in organs renders the possibilities seemingly endless. Øyvind Brandtsegg of the Norwegian University of Science and Technology, Trondheim,22 has developed ways of using his voice to play organs instead of playing the keys in the normal manner. This, needless to say, leads to a radically different perspective on the art of improvisation and, indeed, what it means to be an organist at all. In fact, it might even be possible to dance organ music as this would only require the integration of modern gaming software and hardware with an organ’s MIDI-system. Extending this theme, yet another line of enquiry is suggested by simple software such as Zenph, enabling the playing of MIDI-instruments via the internet.
[45] It is important to stress at this point that most Dutch contemporary organ music was and is composed for original baroque organs. Apparently, composers find themselves impressed and inspired by the sheer beauty of such organs more than by the results of the complex and confusing history of 20th century organbuilding.23
Artistic aspects of applying digital technology
[46] Despite all these developments, organ concepts have, until now, been traditional; in other words they document the rule that organs consist of several “works” (or divisions, or manuals, or whatever else they may be called), which in turn are defined by their specific collection of sound colours (stops). As has been said, the digital technology applied to the Sauer organ allows the organist to disconnect the stops from their manuals, making previously impossible sound colour combinations possible. The use of spring chests in the new baroque organ will allow the organist to disconnect every single pipe from its specific stop as well, and hence represent the next step in integrating digital technology in organs.
[47] One of the most attractive aspects of enabling organists to combine pipes freely, is that they will be able to design sound colours organs were not able to produce until now. It will, for example, be possible to assign a well-chosen set of pipes to a key of a given manual, and have the computer calculate which other pipes would need to sound on the adjacent keys in order to produce a comparable sound colour. Furthermore, it will be possible to assign melody couplers at will, accentuating the top note of the music (or the bottom one) – without having to worry about the problem earlier electro-pneumatic versions of such auxiliaries suffered from, namely that they required extremely legatissimo playing: the computer will be able to determine what the top (or bottom) line is, even if played staccato. It will be possible to control the speed of the tremulants, and thus build all sorts of undulating sounds; to sustain a given sound without having to touch the respective keys longer than a brief moment; to manipulate the wind pressure and the amount of wind the pipes are supplied with etc etc.
[48] However, all of these these options are basically just refinements of traditional organ playing aids. Far more innovative is the attack and delay control organists will gain. Imagine making the organ dynamic by having more pipes sound for just a moment when touching a key, allowing for percussive effects to make, for example, the contour of a musical line clearer. In turn, it will allow for a controlled time delay, by letting the organ build up a sound colour pipe by pipe per key. It will be possible to add acoustic effects, by having the sound die away, leaving only a very soft sound after a given time. It will be possible to have the organ remember what has been played, allowing the organist, as it were, to double or triple his hands and feet. As the keyboards of the digital console at the Orgelpark are also touch sensitive, they allow pipes to speak at different times in the movement of the key – a well prepared organist hence might be able to control the volume of the organ simply through his touch. And so on… All of these examples have already been conceived and tested extensively by Ansgar Wallenhorst, organist of the aforementioned organ at Ratingen.
[49] Additional worlds of possibilities open up as soon as computers are connected to the console, with implications both for the organ itself and for recording, sampling and thus manipulating its sound through the use of microphones and loudspeakers. It is tantalising to consider these next steps for a moment and fantasise about the ways adding loudspeakers might enhance the acoustics of the Orgelpark, as several sophisticated acoustic systems are today available. One could also image a situation which might allow for combining samples of organs elsewhere, perhaps even that at Naumburg, with the new organ’s acoustic resources at the Orgelpark itself.
[50] As for the interface needed to control all these options, there is no need to fear overload of the Orgelpark console with hundreds of knobs, as the touch screens applied at Ratingen seem to work flawlessly. In fact, one might almost feel the need to replace the console’s music desk with a touch screen as well – experiences by Kevin Bowyer indicate that this particular innovation has also made progress.24
Concluding remarks
[51] In essence, the New Baroque Organ with be just that: a baroque organ, albeit with spring chests and electro-magnets in the note channels. These elements will, however, be designed in such a way that both the sound and the touch of the organ will stress its baroque credentials and, as a consequence, the mechanical console will provide a familiar musicking environment to the player. Playing the organ via the digital console, on the other hand, will take the player out of his comfort zone. Indeed “anything goes” will be the order of the day and the instrument will thus put the artistic vision of the player to the test. The same will be true of course of the composers and for other musicians and artists who choose to play the organ via a computer. In turn, the new organ will challenge researchers to map the way organists, composers and other artists will find (fight?) their ways into the sound world of the new instrument. What sounds do they choose? Why? To what extent do traditional/conservative notions play a role? To what extent dare they look for new horizons? What do they consider convincing and what not? And, not least, what role do their listeners play in discussing questions like these? Of course, such questions are relevant to both performances of baroque music and of new music – or indeed other music; it will not be forbidden to play the Buxheimer Orgelbuch or Liszt’s Ad Nos on the organ, the latter perhaps even including sounds from the Sauer organ, similarly controllable via the digital console.
[52] Prior to this, however, the building process will also challenge researchers. As its sound will be a major point of reference, it seems appropriate to rethink the casting of the pipe metal thoroughly, as well as the ways the pipes are made. Consequently, the next topic will be the skill of the voicers. How will they make the pipes sound as desired? What sonic skills will they need, apply and develop during the process? What will be considered as ‘desirable’, by whom, and why?
[53] These are exiting times. To make sure that the decision-making process works as well as possible, the Orgelpark has decided to set up a reference group of experts, including not only experts from the field of organbuilding, but also musicians and composers. In order not to exclude anyone interested to take part in the process, a dedicated weblog has been launched in 2013.
[54] Many questions are, as yet, unanswered of course. In the course of the project, they will be discussed at dedicated meetings in the Orgelpark, including one day colloquia and the annual international Orgelpark symposia. All contributions to these discussions will be published in the Orgelpark Research Reports.