THE WAY TO FAERIELAND Wouldst thou know the way to Faerieland? 'Tis by sailing over the rainbow arch, "Tis by climbing up a moon-beam, On the back of the untamed wind; 'Tis by tripping across the meadows, KATHERINE DUNCAN MORSE. THE ORGAN AND MODERN MUSIC At the present time the pipe organ has come to be looked upon by the general public as an instrument to be used almost solely for church music,-hymns, chants and an occasional anthem. Why should the organ fall into such comparative disuse? Why should not the organ take its place with other instruments in the orchestra? Why, indeed, should not the organ be used to give depth and weight to our modern music? In order to consider these questions it is necessary to go somewhat into the nature of the organ, its structure, its possibilities, and to consider also, the obvious drawbacks to its more extensive use. The organ is primarily a wind instrument, probably first suggested by the sound of the wind blowing across the tops of broken reeds. With this beginning it is hard to imagine that the organ could ever be expected to take the place of a whole orchestra. Albert Lavignac, Professor of Harmony in the Paris Conservatory, has said, "Shall we consider the organ as an instru ment or as an orchestra-an aggregation of instruments manipulated by one man ? I am much inclined to the second definition. It is at least, par excellence-a great polyphonic instrument; it represents infinite power; nothing is impossible to it." The organ certainly is a great polyphonic instrument, but could it be called an orchestra, in the modern sense of the word? To be sure, many of the instruments of the orchestra are represented by certain of the organ stops, but they are, at best, only representations. How could the music of the violin be reproduced by a set of pipes worked by a number of keys? The stops which at all approach the timbre of the stringed instruments are, for the most part, sharp and "twangy" and seem almost unworthy of the great organ, which is capable of producing such mellow roundness of tone. How can the organ represent the rippling melodies of the clarinet or oboe,-their flexibility of tone, their quick change of mood from sprightly merriment to tender pathos? It is impossible to imitate these successfully by means of a mechanical contrivance, for no matter how skilful the performer may be, he cannot reproduce with the uniform tone of the organ (practically uniform because with a single set of stops only one effect can be produced) the graded cresendo, the delicate diminuendo of the oboe or clarinet, the violin or other instruments of the orchestra. The organ cannot take the place of an orchestra, and why should it be lowered into a mere imitative instrument, when in this imitation it is everywhere inferior to instruments of the real orchestra ? The organ has its own proper sphere which cannot be reached by any orchestra, for what orchestra could reproduce the solemn grandeur of the organ? Although the moderu organ is far from perfect, it is hard to recognize as the parent of our mighty organ the primitive syrinx or "pan's pipes." It is interesting to trace the art of organ building from its very humble beginning and see how some of the difficulties of construction were overcome. The Pan's pipes (so called because men believed that the great god Pan had invented them) were merely a number of reed pipes of graded length and thickness bound together in a row with their open mouths in a straight line. The player blew directly across each one to make the sound. This method was difficult and ineffective for any but the most simple airs, for it was hard to skip quickly from one pipe to another, nor could more than one be played at a time. The continuous blowing was so fatiguing to the musician, that makers began to place the pipes in a stationary frame and to supply wind from external sources, so that the player could give his whole time to playing the various pipes. A wooden box was devised, containing a row of holes, into which the ends of the pipes were inserted, and the wind was sometimes supplied by two attendants who blew alternately into pliable tubes, one blowing while the other took breath. The accompanying sketch shows an antique organ of this type, sculptured under a monument now in the museum at Arles, bearing the date XXMVIII. feet of the pipes, which could be drawn out to allow the wind to enter the pipe or pushed in to cover the opening. Another change was made in the introduction of two small bellows which were worked alternately and made a much more uniform current of wind than could be gotten from the blowing of the two attendants. 66 Indeed, a method of producing an absolutely uniform pressure of wind was secured in the hydraulic organ. This variety, invented by Ctesibius, an Egyptian of the third century before Christ, was hydraulic" in no sense except that it used an ingenious apparatus which regulated the wind current by water pressure.' This organ appears in the Hebrew Talmud under the name of hirdaulis or ardablis. The Magrepha which stood in the Temple at Jerusalem had ten notes, with ten pipes to each note. This organ, however, was not an hydraulic one. After various experiments, the hydraulic organ was found to be 1 For an interesting description of one of these "hydraulic" organs, see Hopkins & Rimbault, "The Organ, Its History and Construction," p. 5. See also in Grove's Dict., "Organ," p. 575. impracticable for ordinary use, and makers went back to the former method of bellows and wind-chest. Although nothing very precise can be learned from the ancient writers as to the time and place of these beginnings of organ building, nevertheless it is plain that the primitive forms of many of the chief ideas of that art to-day were in use before the beginning of the Christian era. The exact period at which the organ was first used for religious purposes in Europe is not known, but, according to Julianus, a Spanish bishop who lived 450 A. D., the organ was in common use in the churches of Spain at that time. At the commencement of the eighth century the use of the organ was appreciated and the art of making it was known in England, and early in the tenth century a most remarkable organ was erected in Winchester Cathedral. A description of this has come down to us in a Latin poem by a monk, Wulstan.' "Such organs as you have built are seen nowhere, fabricated on a double ground. Twice six bellows above are ranged in a row, and fourteen lie below. These, by alternate blasts supply an immense quantity of wind, and are worked by seventy, strong men, laboring with their arms, covered with perspiration, each inciting his companions to drive the wind up with all his strength, that the full-bosomed box may speak with its four hundred pipes which the hand of the organist governs. Some when closed he opens, others when open he closes, as the individual nature of the varied sound requires. Two brethren (religious) of concordant spirit sit at the instrument, and each manages his own alphabet. . . Like thunder the iron tongues batter the ear, so that it may receive no sound but that alone. To such an amount does it reverberate, echoing in every direction, that everyone stops with his hand his gaping ears, being in no wise able to draw near and bear the sound which so many combinations produce. The music is heard throughout the town and the flying fame thereof is gone out over the whole country." This naïve account shows that although many of the principal features of the organ were in use at that time, they were still clumsy and harsh and needed a great deal of toning down. In 1 Wulstan died A. D. 963. For original Latin poem see Hopkins & Rimbault, p. 16. 2 This may have been copied incorrectly from the original manuscript, possibly seven instead of seventy. Or it may mean that the seventy took turns at pumping, being divided into several squads. the Winchester organ there were, evidently, three manuals, one for the organist and one for each of the "brethren of concordant spirit," and at each the player allowed one note to sound at a time by pulling out the block under one of the pipes. Perhaps all three played the melody, or possibly each took a part in some of the discordant harmonies of that time. An interesting representation of the pneumatic organ of this time is preserved in the M. S. "Psalter of Eadwine" in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. It is copied below. The players seem to be forcibly complaining that the men at the pumps do not work hard enough. (Players of small organs seem to have that trouble even up to the present.) Towards the end of the eleventh century huge keys, or rather levers, began to be used as a means of opening and closing the pipes, instead of the old blocks that had to be pulled out and pushed in. Early keys are described as being from three to five inches wide, or even more, and an inch and a half thick, so that they were hammered with the fists rather than played with the fingers. In the fourteenth century the three keyboards began to be arranged one over another, so that the organist could reach. them all with very little change of position. In the fifteenth century, the invention of pedals at first enabled. the organist to play the lowest notes of the manuals with his feet, for these keys were connected with the pedals by means of cords, but later an entirely different set of pipes was arranged for the pedals. |