All Saints KingstonThrough the console mirror |
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Through the console mirror
I sometimes think one has to be a little mad to be an organist. I am not referring so much to those at the top of the profession but to those of us lower down the heap. Who else would turn out on a freezing winter’s evening to practise in an unheated church or habitually stay sober at midnight on Christmas Eve? This is not to suggest that well known recitalists are in the habit of taking to the bottle in the festive season!
Organists have to be able to deal with the strange requests that come their way – usually from bridal couples or the recently bereaved. These can vary from the impossible to play (on the organ at any rate) to the banal in the extreme. Although it does not fall into either of these categories, Widor’s Toccata is one to be very wary of if ‘playing an away match’. I know several organist friends who have arrived at some distant church to find a two-stop organ either with no pedalboard or one of short compass, and probably a similarly short compass on the manual as well. This not only scuppers the first note of the piece but also the pedal tune we all know so well. To play parts of the toccata down an octave usually sounds grim and it would be a brave soul who attempted to transpose the whole piece into a lower key. On one occasion, the choir at Kingston was asked to sing at a wedding at an Oxbridge college. Although this was a good few years ago, the college had better remain anonymous. As I was to accompany the choir I arrived in good time to look the organ over. It turned out to be a small three manual instrument of the severely authentic variety, recently installed – tracker action (of course) and with no indication as to which stops related to which department. The top manual was of one stop only, a Regal. The couplers were kick down pedals and were similarly unlabelled. Naturally one of my first actions was to try each of these to find which coupler they operated and the second one I tried turned out to be the Regal to Pedal coupler. Now the tone of the Regal stop was reminiscent of an agitated fly in a jam jar, particularly in the lower register, and I could visualise little scope for its use during the service. It might possibly have answered well to imitate the ‘moth fretting a garment’ in psalm 39. However, once coupled, the stop became a permanent and unwelcome addition to the pedal department. This did not do at all, so I managed to remove a wood panel and discovered that a vital link in the mechanism had dropped into the bowels of the organ. Time was pressing so a rubber band was used to make a temporary repair. Just as I was refitting the panel one of the College’s organ scholars arrived and told me in no uncertain terms that as the college was in dispute with the organ builder I had probably wrecked their chances of winning a law suit. Apparently strict instructions had been issued that nothing that went wrong must be touched! After the service I carefully retrieved the rubber band and stole hastily away. Another friend of mine arrived at the last minute at an unfamiliar Cemetery Chapel. On enquiring where the organ was he was initially misdirected through a crowd of mourners and into a broom cupboard. He extracted himself with as much dignity as he could muster and then found a small electronic keyboard in a corner. This had been left in demonstration mode and as soon as it was switched on it broke into a rousing chorus of O come all ye faithful! The service eventually got under way once those present had composed themselves and all then went well until the closing voluntary. During this an elderly gentleman kept muttering something unintelligible in his ear. My friend imagined he had committed some further solecism but managed to carry on. In the end it turned out that the gentleman in question merely wished to retrieve his umbrella from behind the organ. It is well known that most organists are souls of discretion and contrive to have harmonious relations with their employers, but it will surprise you to learn that this was not always so in the past. The recent troubles at Lincoln Cathedral, although not in the musical department, were by no means the only difficulties experienced there. We learn that in the late 17th century the Precentor had reason to write on two occasions to the Dean on the subject of the recalcitrant behaviour of the organist: Mr Mudd hath so debauched these assizes, and hath so abused Mr Derby that he will hardly bee persuaded to stay to finish his worke unlesse Mudd bee removed. And I have stuck in the same Mudd too for he hath abused mee above hope of pardon. I wish you would be pleased to send us downe an able and more civill organist. And two days later: Yesterday Mr. Mudd shewed the effects of his last weeke’s tipling, for when Mr. Joynes was in the midst of his sermon, Mudd fell a-singing aloud, inasmuch as Mr. Joynes was compelled to stopp; ....at length some neere him, stopping his mouth, silenced him ... but this continued for the space of neere halfe a quarter of an houre. So that now wee dare trust him no more with our organ, but request you (if you can) to helpe us to another; and with what speed may be. Chichester Cathedral also had its problems with Thomas Weelkes. During the bishop’s visitation of 1616 it was noted that Weelkes hath been and is noted and famed for a common drunkard and a notorious swearer and blasphemer. However, he seems to have been tolerated because of his outstanding musical gifts. Such goings on might have been possible at Kingston in the days of the Compton organ, but the exposed position of the player of the Frobenius now imposes a strict regime of decorum. It is fairly well known that I am something of a railway enthusiast but I have so far resisted the temptation to copy a prominent railway author who always referred to his console as ‘the footplate’!
Brian Lewis
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