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Acoustical Design for Congregational Singing

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Congregational singing can be effectively stymied or greatly encouraged by the acoustical properties of the worship space. Recent trends in church architecture have unfortunately led to the use of more acoustically absorbent materials, which is harmful to this important aspect of worship. The following article provides helpful advice to remedy this problem.

Perhaps the greatest challenge in architectural acoustics is the worship environment. The acoustical characteristics within a worship space must cover the gamut from pristine clarity for the spoken word to enveloping reverberance for the pipe organ. The demands for room responsiveness exceed those of traditional concert halls and multipurpose performance facilities.

A closer examination reveals an even greater richness in this range of acoustical qualities. The speech end of the spectrum must accommodate all types of voices, from lay readers to seasoned preachers who will utilize every available nuance of the dynamic range—from a tumultuous shout to an intimate whisper to poignant silence. Through all this, the Word must be understood throughout the entire congregation.

At the opposite extreme is the pipe organ, capable of a dynamic range and frequency spectrum that can exceed that of a full symphony orchestra. And somewhere between the auditory alpha and omega are the choir and solo voice. They too must convey the Word with warmth and clarity, while encouraging and supporting the participation of the congregation.

Many of the difficulties of combining, within one structure, the requirements for speech intelligibility and musical resonance have been solved. Yet, if there is one facet of church acoustics that might be thought of as the neglected stepchild, it is the provision of appropriate acoustics for congregational singing.

Acousticians serving as consultants in church building projects, whether a renovation or new design and construction, are typically presented with a list of priorities during the initial stages. These invariably include a statement calling for “excellent acoustics for congregational singing.” However, as the project develops, this program element is frequently overshadowed or forfeited in compromise to other perceived needs.

Church renovation or construction projects involve an extraordinary variety of needs and priorities among the clergy and congregation. A church building project is, after all, a multifaceted undertaking and will typically involve

1.     An organ. The selection and cost of an organ can be a major issue. Usually, a committee is appointed to study alternatives and make recommendations. They may spend a year or more touring neighboring churches, interviewing organists, and debating the pipe-versus-electronic and tracker-versus-electropneumatic issues. The installation of a significant instrument can easily exceed $500,000 and have major architectural and aesthetic ramifications.

2.     A choir or music program. Here too a committee may be selected to address questions of placement of the choir, provisions for rehearsal space, new robes and robe storage, and so on.

3.     A sound-reinforcement system. Another committee or perhaps one of the other sound-related committees should be responsible for the sound system. The system must amplify speech intelligibly and perhaps include provisions for music reinforcement, recording, playback, and so on. It must also be visually unobtrusive and preferably invisible.

4.     Furnishings and finishes. The visual elements of the project call for many decisions regarding materials and colors, religious and art objects, seating, lighting, etc. This particular facet of the project is a major preoccupation for the architect who is deeply concerned about the impression the space will make, an overwhelmingly visual impression.

Too often the priority of congregational singing is overwhelmed by the high cost and visibility of other elements. When this happens, it is often assumed (or hoped) that if the worship space is designed to provide good acoustics for speech, organ, and choir, then it will naturally provide a welcome environment for congregational song. This is a reasonable-sounding assumption, but it is not necessarily true. To appreciate this, we might ask what is really known about the acoustical requirements for congregational singing and how these relate to those for speech intelligibility, organ, and choir. Before addressing these issues directly, let’s briefly consider a more fundamental question.

What Is Meant by Good Acoustics for Congregational Singing? This is indeed an intriguing question. When it comes to the qualities of the singing voice, research in acoustics has been primarily concerned with trained voices in the performance environment. This is not an appropriate paradigm for the common parishioner who may or may not be able to carry a tune, who may or may not even enjoy signing. Published studies dealing with the ordinary voice are generally geared toward open-plan offices, speech interference, telecommunications, and the like.

Let’s take a less pedantic approach, then, since there is little scholarship regarding the “optimal acoustics for the untrained voice as applied to congregational singing.” Let us consider some reasonable assumptions to motivate the formulation of acoustical requisites for congregational singing.

  1. The environment should provide support and encouragement for the untrained voice. It should sufficiently enrich and enhance the quality of the ordinary voice so that the singer feels encouraged to sing out, to participate in the communal act of lifting the voice in praise.
  2. The acoustic response of the space should impart to each individual in the congregation a sense of being a part of the assembly, an assurance that one is not alone or unduly exposed.
  3. The environment should convey to each parishioner the awareness that, as small as one’s contribution may seem, it is a meaningful part of the whole.

To summarize, the ideal environment ought to enhance the quality and fullness of the voice, provide a sense of envelopment, yet provide a sense that one’s simple gifts are an essential part of the whole and that this whole is profoundly greater than the sum of its parts. We seek, in essence, a sonic analog of unity, echoing the concept of the oneness of the assembly, while acknowledging the sanctity of the individual.

This is, perhaps, a rather grandiose concept; it surely exceeds the aspirations of even the most accomplished acoustician. But the concepts embodied in these lofty ideals suggest some well-understood acoustical principles. An insightful interpretation of these requirements can provide the proper acoustical conditions for congregational singing. Let’s take a brief look at some of the fundamentals involved.

Reverberation. Most people have some familiarity with reverberation time, the quality of sustain that occurs in large, hard-surfaced spaces. One need not be an acoustician to have some sense of the sound enhancement provided by a cathedral with a six-second reverberation time, a space where it takes six seconds for a sound to fade to inaudibility. Some of the more erudite may be aware that concert halls typically provide a reverb time of two seconds or more for symphonic music and that a pipe organ requires more than three seconds. There are many well-established benchmarks for “optimum” reverberation times for all types of environments and all forms of music. There are, however, no comparable reverberation criteria for congregational singing.

Nonetheless, reverberation is unquestionably a major and necessary factor for enhancing the quality of the ordinary voice in worship spaces. It also increases the loudness of a sound. Reverberation is, after all, made up of the myriad returns of acoustic energy from sound-reflective building surfaces. This energy combines with the original sound and increases the apparent loudness of the source. You might think of the analogy of a light source in a room. If the wall surfaces are covered with a dark, non-reflective finish, the overall illumination throughout the space will be less than if the finishes are light and reflective.

Sound-Absorbing Materials within the Worship Space. In most churches designed for good acoustics, there is a minimum of sound-absorbing material. In fact, in most churches, the single greatest sound absorber is the congregation itself. The fully clothed person provides about as much sound absorption as four to six square feet of conventional acoustical ceiling tile. A congregation of one thousand can provide as much sound absorption as an entire suspended acoustical ceiling over the nave!

It is fairly well-known that a certain amount of sound absorption is required to prevent echoes and to control reverberance. But it is not generally known that the performance of sound-absorbing material is strongly dependent on the location of this material relative to the sound source.

If a sound source is located quite far from a sound absorber and if this source is also projecting its sound away from the absorber, then the sound will have an opportunity to develop. It will blossom and begin to fill the room volume before the absorption begins to produce its sound-suppressing effect. In a church, these are generally the conditions that exist for sounds produced by the choir and organ. The major sound absorber (the congregation) is relatively far from the choir and organ, and both are oriented so that their sounds project directly into the full room volume. These conditions allow these sound sources effectively to utilize the available reverberation of the worship space.

If, on the other hand, the sound source is located near a major absorbing surface, the sound is directed (more or less) into the absorber, then the sound will be absorbed before it has a chance to be enhanced by the reverberance of the space. As we shall see later, these conditions fairly well describe those that exist for the voices in the congregation. In fact, it is a common perception, from within a congregation, that the choir and organ sound reverberant, while the congregation sounds rather dry in comparison. This is primarily a result of the proximity of the congregation’s voices to the sound absorption provided by the clothed bodies throughout the congregation’s seating area.

Sound-Reflecting Surfaces. Acoustically reflective surfaces are especially important for the support and distribution of unamplified sounds. A choir, if located near sound-reflective surfaces, can project its sound more fully and uniformly. A properly oriented overhead reflector can have enormous beneficial effects by projecting sound to the assembly and distributing sound among the choir members. A choral shell would be a real asset for a church choir, but such performance-oriented furnishings are considered by many to be inappropriate in the house of the Lord. Acousticians often attempt to introduce architectural elements that will perform the same functions as a choral shell while respecting the aesthetics and sanctity of the worship environment.

In much the same fashion, the voices of the congregation could make beneficial use of nearby reflecting surfaces to help distribute their sound throughout the assembly and provide support. However, only those singers near the perimeter will derive any advantage from sidewalls. There are rarely any usable overhead surfaces for the congregation since the needs for long reverberation require large room volumes and comparably great ceiling heights. The only available reflective surfaces are the pews and surrounding floor area.

Acoustical Requisites for Congregational Singing

We can summarize this review of acoustical factors with a statement of the obvious: Long reverberance and supportive reflections provide the foundation for delightful and awe-inspiring sound qualities of the archetypal church. These same factors greatly enhance the sound of the organ and choir and add a larger-than-life grandeur to speech.

It seems reasonable to assume that these qualities should also lend themselves to the need for congregational singing. They do. But they do not assure it. Nonetheless, large room volumes and long reverberation times are basic and minimum requirements for an environment that will encourage participation in congregational singing. We need to look just a bit further to see why these necessary conditions may not be sufficient.

Location and Disposition of the Sound Source. There is one feature of congregational singing that distinguishes it from nearly every other musical acoustic setting: The sound sources and receivers are in virtually the same location. Even more important, the sources and receivers are at the same physical height. There are few, if any, equivalent situations in musical acoustics. (There are some parallels in the acoustics of rehearsal rooms and stages, but the context and objectives are quite different.)

It should be evident that the height of a sound source, relative to the listener, is an important acoustical consideration. From an elevated position, sound is projected more efficiently and uniformly. The architectural acknowledgment of this principle is evident in the traditional form of music performance spaces. The principle is equally applicable in worship spaces. For example, the elevation of the chancel and celebrant takes advantage of the sound projection made possible by this simple height differential. The organ pipes and choir are typically elevated for the same purpose and are often located in a loft. Even within the choir, we typically find risers to take advantage of the enhanced projection of sound made possible by being elevated. Loudspeakers for the spoken liturgy are also placed as high as possible. Comparing these examples with the conditions in the congregation, we see that the assembly is at a decided disadvantage.

Another closely related factor is the directivity of the voice. The greatest concentration of sound energy from the untrained voice projects forward and down at a slight angle. Within the congregation, this tends to direct sound into the back of the person immediately in front. Most of the sound will be absorbed by clothing. What little remains to be reflected and scattered will be further absorbed by neighboring worshipers.

Pew Cushions and Carpeting. For the needs of congregational song, the use of any form of sound-absorbing material in and around the congregation is detrimental. It is not that these materials are the only cause of a poor environment for congregational singing. But, if we examine the most commonly occurring conditions in worship spaces, even in highly reverberant spaces, we see that the congregation already has several strikes against it:

  • The congregation is typically on one level (except where there is a balcony) and cannot take advantage of the benefits to sound distribution provided by elevation, raked seating, or tiers.
  • There are few, if any, proximal surfaces to produce supportive sound reflections and to distribute sound throughout the seating area.
  • The congregation is engulfed in a sea of highly effective sound absorption. The ordinary clothing worn to services is absorptive enough, and in cold climates heavy outer clothing can increase the amount of effective absorption by 50 percent or more.
  • To make matters worse, the normal directivity of the voice projects the sound energy from each member directly into this body of absorption.

The introduction of further absorption in the congregation in the form of pew cushions and carpeting is truly the final blow. It should be clear from the presentation above that this is a matter of physical fact, not simply the knee-jerk reaction of most acousticians who, as everyone knows, are always lobbying against the introduction of sound-absorbing material of any sort.

In fact, pew cushions and carpet produce, simultaneously, two effects that are directly contrary to the acoustical requirements for congregational song:

  • They absorb sound and do so in a highly efficient fashion because of their proximity to the sound source.
  • They occlude the floor and pew surfaces. These sound-reflective surfaces would otherwise be available to provide supportive reflections and to scatter sound among the assembly.

Pew cushions are generally considered to be a comfort issue as well as cosmetic concern. In truth, sitting on a contoured wooden pew for an hour is not a great discomfort. People of all ages are quite willing to sit in far less comfortable seating for even longer periods. Ballpark bleachers and park benches are two examples that immediately come to mind. This is really a matter of perception and priorities.

If pew cushions simply cannot be avoided, there are some alternatives that can minimize sound absorption. Cushions made with vinyl covering or fabrics with latex or vinyl backing will provide less sound absorption than the more common fabric upholstery. There are also closed-cell foams and alternative padding materials that offer adequate comfort without absorbing as much sound.

Carpeting is generally an aesthetic matter. There are many attractive hard-surfaced alternatives (for example, quarry tile, wood parquet, etc.) that would not introduce further absorption in and around the congregational seating area. If carpet is required for safety or to minimize the sound of footfalls, use the thinnest material possible and cover only the minimum area necessary.

Other Factors. Mechanical-system noise is of great concern in worship spaces. A noisy ventilation system can ruin speech intelligibility and cause distractions at the most inopportune moments. This same noise can have detrimental effects on congregational singing.

Consider the fact that background-noise generators are used in some open-plan offices to provide speech privacy and to reduce distraction from conversations and activities in neighboring areas. In such environments, an electronically produced “white noise” is used to drown out sounds from adjacent areas. The artificial noise effectively isolates areas by blocking or masking normally audible sounds. It is much like the effect of running water drowning out conversation in your home.

However, for congregational singing, we need to maximize communication within and throughout the entire sanctuary. A noisy background can greatly reduce the sense of support you would perceive from those singing around you.

Priorities and Compromises. Much of the foregoing has been a restatement of the oft-heard indictment against carpeting and pew cushions in the worship space. Hopefully, it has shown that if acoustics for congregational singing is a priority, then there are few options available, few concessions that can be made. There are no conventional methods that can offset the negative effects of sound-absorbing materials in and around the congregation.

It has also acknowledged the fact that church-building projects evoke conflicting priorities that call for compromise. There will surely be incompatibilities among the major areas of the project, for example, liturgy, architecture, and acoustics. There will even be disparities within these areas such as the conflicting acoustical requirements for speech and music. However, the acoustical characteristics required for choir, organ, and congregational singing are wholly compatible. These same characteristics (with a properly designed speech-reinforcement system) will provide the responsiveness necessary for the full range of liturgical oratory and actually enhance the richness and uniformity of speech distribution among the assembly.

It can be as compelling and uplifting as that which exists in any collective experience. While we might all wish for better singing voices, we must acknowledge that in some endeavors our God-given gifts are limited, but that we can be more than we are individually by being part of the whole. This is, perhaps, an idealized concept of the power of congregational singing, but proper acoustics within the sanctuary can help bring this concept to fruition.

The Piano in Worship

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Many congregations are discovering the piano as an excellent instrument to lead congregational singing. This article informs the reader about the intelligent use of the piano in worship.

Rate in the order of appropriateness for public worship:

  1. Accordion
  2. Guitar
  3. Organ
  4. Piano
  5. Zither

Asked this question, my hunch is that the majority who are reading this would put the organ in first place, the piano in second. (Actually, all the instruments have been used.) We’d answer that way because of what we’ve experienced; in our churches, the organ has long been the instrument most used in worship.

But for a number of reasons, that prominence may be waning. Many congregations are discovering that the piano provides an excellent alternative to the organ. Some use it only to provide variety and to give the organist a break. Others, especially smaller congregations, have consciously decided to use the piano instead of the organ on a regular basis. They have discovered that piano accompaniment is not only suitable but preferable to organ music for their style of worship.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Whether a pianist can successfully accompany hymns and provide service music for worship depends on a few key factors: the acoustics of the church, the quality of the instrument, and the performance ability of the musician. Although a good instrument under the hands of a competent pianist can produce marvelous orchestrations of tone and articulate, crisp rhythms, the piano has neither the sustaining power nor the instrumentation possibilities of an organ.

However, often the problems people face when using a piano in worship have less to do with the instrument itself than with the apparent lack of appropriate literature: unlike the organ, the piano has no rich heritage of repertory explicitly composed for use in worship. This gap can partially be filled from other sources. For example, pianists have discovered that many classical piano compositions may be appropriately adopted for worship. Musicians need only make judicious choices on the basis of length and style, avoiding pieces that are very familiar and thus easily associated with experiences outside of the worship service.

Other pianists have discovered a wealth of material usable in worship services in the repertory of organ music written for manuals only. This music maintains the dignity of a tradition, creates no tension by association with other styles, and generally supports the aim of worship. Only the sound itself is different: the pianist must decide whether a particular work is too idiomatic for the organ to be used effectively on the piano.

Apart from these two sources for piano worship—judicious selections from classical literature and from organ music for manuals only—pianists face an inadequate supply of commendable material suitable for worship. During the past century, composers in the American populist tradition have attempted to create a body of sacred piano literature, most of it based on hymn tunes. But without the advantage of historical precedent available to the organ, pianists have adapted various models of piano style that may not be appropriate for the worship service: nocturnes, etudes, concertos, and cocktail music have all had an influence.

Most of these efforts at adaptation are unsatisfactory because they are obvious imitations, conjuring up associations outside of worship traditions, calling attention to themselves, forcing hymn tunes to be something they are not, and in effect intruding on worship. If a model for piano style in worship is required at all, a more effective one is organ literature associated with worship. However, due to the inherent differences between the two instruments, this model also has problems.

A most helpful source of suggestions for piano music suitable for church (unfortunately never published and therefore not conveniently at hand) is Richard Cole Shadinger’s dissertation “The Sacred Element in Piano Literature: A Historical Background and Annotated Listing” (Southern Baptist Seminary, 1974).

Another helpful source now available is a ten-volume anthology, compiled and edited by Dr. William Phemister, Chairman of the Piano Department of the Wheaton College Conservatory of Music, released by the Fred Bock Music Co. in May l987. The multivolume collection is comprised primarily of music originally composed for the piano. (Exceptions include three organ chorale preludes by Brahms.) Six volumes are devoted to individual composers: Mendelssohn, Brahms, Schumann, Liszt, J. S. Bach, and Beethoven. Of the four remaining volumes, two include seasonal music (Christmas and Lent/Easter), another is a collection of duets (four hands, one piano), and the final volume contains selections by twentieth-century composers. These last two volumes also include some organ transcriptions. While this ten-volume work is designed for church pianists, it also of value to student pianists.

Selecting Music

As with any genre of music, church music’s quality or lack of it is associated with the names of publishers. Their boards establish the standards, which, if consistent, are of great assistance to the individual musician who faces a market of very uneven quality. The Lutheran publishing houses, Concordia and Augsburg, offer an outstanding selection of music for the piano, much of it published as organ music for manuals only. Other very reputable companies include Oxford University Press, Harold Flammer, Inc., and Peters.

In selecting music the musician should take into consideration principles of quality, moderation, and appropriateness. Some more specific, but not exhaustive, suggestions include the following:

  1. Do not choose music that is too difficult. Unless you can play the music well, you should not play it at all.
  2. Avoid obvious virtuosity. The music should assist worship and never be confused with a recital performance.
  3. If the music is based on a hymn, be sure its arrangement does not injure the original character of the tune and associated texts, either by excessive chromaticism or technical demands.
  4. Avoid any style that has strong associations with music outside of the context of a worship service.
  5. Avoid banality. Regard the music as an offering to the Lord, and make it the best in style, content, and rendition. Avoid obvious “formulas” for accompaniments, figurations, and modulations.
  6. Giving careful thought to the place of the music in the liturgy will help you decide whether to choose something quiet and meditative or festive and celebrative. The mood and associated text, if there is one, should be compatible with the church season and/or worship theme.

Designing the Organ for Leading Congregational Song

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The primary purpose of the church organ is to lead and accompany congregational singing. This article argues that the highest priority in organ design and construction in churches should not be to produce an impressive organ for recitals, but rather to construct an organ to meet the unique needs of congregational singing.

The organ is not placed in the church for recitals, nice as they may be. The organ is not placed in the church as a tourist attraction, although some wonderful instruments have resulted from a desire to make a statement and attract people. And especially, the organ is not placed in the church for the amusement and delight of organist, builder, or enthusiast. I believe the pipe organ still finds a welcome place in the church because it remains the single best instrument at which one person can lead a variety of styles of congregational song.

Some of you reading this article may be a bit upset with me because you like to use other instruments to lead congregational songs. So do I. I have used guitar, synthesizer, piano (I like this one a lot), handbells, flutes, brass ensembles, even full orchestra and band for the leadership of congregational song. All of these possibilities work well if employed creatively and with a good understanding of their musical potential and limitations. But the organ remains as the best single musical resource capable of producing an ample quantity, quality, and variety of sound useful for leading many styles of song.

Others may be upset because my original statement implies that I consider the organ’s reason for being in a space for worship in relation to its role in leading the song of the assembly. They believe that I am not interested in the organ per se, its repertoire, its history, its lore. Of course, I am interested. The organ is my instrument of choice as a performer, and my degrees are all in organ performance. I’m intrigued by its history and perpetually amazed by the incredible variety of organs built over the years. Organs are like people; they come in all shapes and sizes and are fascinating to study. They are complex machines, and many individual examples are marvels of engineering and artistic excellence. But, all the lore, all the questions posed by enthusiasts when visiting a new organ (for example: What kind of key action does it have? Is it suspended? What kind of woods are used in the music rack? Does this organ have flexible winding? How much lead is in the principal pipes?) can obscure or distract us from the real issue. Organs, with few exceptions, are placed in churches for the purpose of leading the song of the assembly. Organs are servants to and energizers of this song. This mission is primary and all other considerations are secondary. With this basic affirmation in mind, let’s now look at concepts that should influence the design of organs for spaces where people gather for worship.

Physical and tonal properties need to be considered. Organs are large pieces of furniture, and care must be taken in placing them in a worship space. Since the church organ is not primarily a solo instrument, it must be designed in such a way that the organ and organist can interact well with other musicians. The musicians include instrumentalists and especially the choir and congregation. Both aural and visual concerns must be remembered when considering this interaction. Will the organist and other musicians be able to hear each other with some reasonable feel for balance? Will they be able to see each other? Frankly, this makes it difficult to propose attached-console, mechanical action instruments for any but the smallest instruments. (Please understand I appreciate and affirm such a style of building, but my responsibility as a church musician is to consider the organ not in isolation, but in relation to its servant role in the life of the parish. Citing European examples of such an approach to organ building is not all that helpful either since church music practice there is so different from American practice.) Of course, detached-console, mechanical-action instruments are an option, and I hope more work is done to perfect this style of building. Some fine instruments with wonderful, sensitive key actions have been done. Some horrible examples can be found as well. We need to cautiously and conservatively design and build more good ones.

Console design is another concern. Consider the question of the combination action and layout of stop controls. Small, two-manual instruments don’t require combination actions. Larger instruments do (say twenty to twenty-five or more stops). If one is to be free to utilize color possibilities inherent in larger instruments, one needs the flexibility provided by a reliable combination action. The larger the organ, the more efficient and practical the entire console design should be. A few large drawknobs can be placed conveniently close to the manual keys. Thirty or more of the large drawknobs to be found on some organs begin to present problems which are made worse by the use of nameplates for the stops placed adjacent to but separate from the knobs. It gets hard to find a single stop quickly in a forest of knobs, and since the addition of a single stop is less noticeable in the total ensemble of a larger instrument, the addition of three or four at once is not all that easy and disrupts one’s musical and rhythmical concentration. Simple stop tables placed above the top manual are easier to find and see. Of course, they don’t look as elegant, but they do the job more efficiently.

While good physical and visual design is important, good tonal design is vital. The ultimate usefulness of the organ depends primarily upon its aural qualities. So let’s consider some basic concepts in tonal design for church organs.

Good, warm singing sounds are the ideal. The assembly sings best when it is invited to join and blend with the organ in song. This invitation is not by a gesture or the singing into a mike by the organist or cantor, but by the very nature of the organ’s sound—a sound which inspires participation. This sound requires adequate amplitude (loudness), character, and warmth. It needs a good bottom to lead, support, and undergird the assembly’s song (the bass voice is the primary energizer of rhythmic pulse in music). It needs to be clear with some brilliance to communicate the melodic line. The sound must not be so forced or distinctive that the amateur singer is frightened or awed into silence. Aural assault is not the preferred way to encourage congregational song! Rather, the singer must feel surrounded and supported by the sound of the organ, drawn into participation by the very quality and personality of the organ tone.

As the stoplist is determined, certain concepts must be remembered. The organ is an ensemble instrument, not a collection of favorite solo stops gathered willy-nilly into an instrument. A “buffet table” approach to organ tonal design never results in a good organ. Rather, a concern for blend and cohesion of stops, an ensemble approach, is essential, especially in smaller instruments. A large instrument can afford to have a few unique, solo stops that are rarely used. If an organ has only twenty stops, all must work well together. Fortunately, blending and ensemble stops can have character and distinction. Please understand, I’m not arguing for a tonal palate akin to the cream of rice cereal. Rather, I am proposing that the ensemble concept in organ tonal design works somewhat like the blend of a choir or congregation in song. All are group activities that work best when no single performer stands apart from the ensemble.

This ensemble concept is at work both within each organ division (say great, swell, and pedal) as well as in the relationship between divisions. First, let’s look at the concept at work within a division. Most organ ensembles are created by combining stops of different pitches much like rungs on a ladder—8´, 4´, 2´, and so on. And like a ladder, it is better—and safer—not to omit a rung along the way. Within a reasonably complete manual division may be found more than one ensemble: a principal chorus, a flute chorus, and perhaps even a reed chorus. The most important of these ensemble combinations is the principal chorus which, when complete, is “crowned” by a mixture. This ensemble is the backbone of the organ and the critical ingredient in good hymn combinations.

Not every principal chorus begins with a principal at 8´ pitch. It is possible to have a “principal chorus” using flute (usually stopped) registers as long as the combination has a principal on top. The well-designed two manuals are likely to have such a hybrid ensemble in the swell with its principal chorus being built upon a Rohrflote or Gedackt 8´ and the principal register being at 4´. Such a chorus will not be quite as broad in tone as one which includes a principal 8´. Flute and reed choruses are often less complete and not as important to hymn playing, although a chorus trumpet on the great and a reed chorus (16´ and 8´ with perhaps a 4´) on the swell is especially useful in hymn combinations.

Each division should have its own principal chorus with secondary flute and reed components. (For service playing, a complete, independent principal chorus in the pedal is not essential, although desirable.) These divisions should be designed to sound good and complete alone but also work well when coupled together. Divisions should complement and enhance each other as they are combined. Since an organ crescendo works best as an increase of brilliance and not just loudness, it is best that secondary divisions have choruses that add brilliance to the primary (great) division. Thus the mixture, or crown, of the swell would be higher than the great so that an increase in brilliance is noted when the swell chorus is added to a great chorus. While it is true that a crescendo works through an increase of brilliance, not the addition of more and more 8´ and 4´ stops, it is important to remember that as the sound grows brighter, more 16´ and 8´ foundation (especially pedal foundation) must be provided as well. Brilliance does not imply screaming, harsh sounds! No one likes to hear people or instruments shouting for very long.

Now, this discussion of organ tonal design could go on longer, and I could become more specific about choice of appropriate registers for individual divisions. But specific choice of stops is secondary to the primary consideration that basic, good organ design is built upon each division as a complete ensemble working alone or in combination with other divisions. Since congregational song is an ensemble activity, the organ interacts with and leads ensemble singing best when its individual divisions are used together. Thus, my hymn combinations always begin by engaging the couplers. Ensembles in each division are then selected. A more gentle hymn might be played upon a combination of great 8´ and 4´ with swell 8´, 4´, and 2´. A more majestic text might call for complete principal choruses from both manual divisions. The opening hymn on Easter Day would call for chorus reeds added to the ensemble. In each case, a pedal ensemble to support and undergird the manual ensemble would be important, although from time to time it is good to give the feet a rest and lead a stanza with manuals alone. But no matter what the specific combination may be, the goal is always warm, blending sounds from the organ.

A delightful by-product of such a design approach is an organ well suited for the classic core of its own repertoire. Thus good church organ design is not at all in conflict with good organ design for the repertoire, provided one is interested in a reasonably eclectic, middle-of-the-road approach to an instrument for the literature. Good news! We can have our cake and eat it too.

The Organ in Worship

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The organ is a very complex instrument both to describe and to play. The following article defines many of the terms used to describe and distinguish organs and identifies important issues in playing them in worship.

The organ was an invention of the Eastern empire early in the Christian era, where it was associated with court entertainment and was as a result never employed in church. When imported into the West about the eighth century, it was embraced by the church and became the archetypal instrument for the accompaniment of worship. Fully developed, the organ was, until relatively recently, the most elaborate mechanical device ever created, constructed by the cooperative act of numerous artisans, designed to be a worthy complement to the architecture and adornment of the worship environment.

The latest generation of instruments provides a summation of the best of the past and enables the performance of a wide variety of musical styles for a multitude of uses. A single performer, playing authoritatively, can provide both introductory, bridge, and closing music, accompany soloists and choirs, as well as play in concert with other instruments. Most importantly, the organ can lead congregational singing, a fundamental element in corporate worship.

The organ depends greatly for its effectiveness on the resonance of the building in which it is housed. The same acoustic environment which favors the organ aids singing, since singers feel more secure in a resonant building than in an acoustically dry space which results in vocal timidity and fatigue. Thus, it is best to avoid surface treatments that are overly absorbent of sounds, such as ceiling tile and carpeting.

Pipe Organs

The pipe organ is custom-designed by definition. It is expensive but can last for centuries. A pipe organ can be impressive visually, displayed sculpturally, or enclosed in a sound-focusing case. Considerable space is needed for the largest instruments. Where an elaborate musical program is projected, a pipe organ is ideal. A small chapel might be well served by a small pipe instrument despite its limited power and colors. For the most sensitive performance of early music, a tracker organ might be desirable, despite its higher cost. Naturally, only the most experienced builders should be considered if a sizable expenditure is to be made on a pipe organ.

Electronic Organs

The most recent electronic instruments, those in which the sounds of actual pipes are recorded digitally and stored in a computer, are sonically impressive. These can be of custom design, and vary from modest instruments, appropriate for a small church and congregation, to very large and complex ones. They may include useful features such as the ability to record complete selections using a computer sequencer and instantly alterable tunings. Naturally, since they are a product of the most recent electronic technology, it is impossible to predict their longevity with certitude, though it is probably considerably less than an instrument with actual pipes. Electronic instruments, providing a substantial quantity of varied sound at a price more modest than the pipe instrument, are a good value and musically effective.

Purchasing or Restoring Organs

Nowhere is there such a variety of issues to be faced as with providing an organ for the church. The cost of the instrument, the nature of the worship, the present and anticipated size of the congregation, the extent of the music program and number of choirs, and the amount of music that is actually used in a service are all factors to be considered. A large and expensive instrument is appropriate for a church with a professional-caliber organist and an extensive music program.

The restoration of older pipe organs should be decided on and undertaken with care. Some organs (despite sentimental attachment to them) were built at a time in the first decades of this century when organ design had descended to its worst. The advice of trained and impartial specialists is needed to appraise accurately whether such an instrument is worthy of preservation.

Often, for sentimental reasons money is repeatedly spent on organs that have in truth served their purpose and outlived their usefulness. They may never function adequately, either tonally or mechanically. Sometimes some pipework can be saved and revoiced and accompanied by new pipes, but this work should only be undertaken with a full awareness on the part of the church administration of what is involved. Having made such a decision, the church should only use a builder fully qualified to perform this work.

The Inner Workings of Organs

Organ stops, sets of pipes, or groupings of sounds, are designated by the approximate length of the pipe needed to produce their lowest tone. Thus 8´ represents the pitch of the piano. The pedal division is usually based on a 16´ principal, the next important keyboard or manual on 8´, the subordinate manuals on 4´ and 2´. Those stops with numbers less than eight, such as 4´ and 2´ are designed for what is called upper work, which gives brightness and carrying power. Off unison ranks, designated 1 2/3´, and so on, are called mutations and are used to color the unison stops. All stops should have individual character but should also blend into a cohesive ensemble.

Organs depend on a variety of sounds that have been produced historically by pipes of differing designs. The foundation is made up of the principals or diapasons, pipes of moderate size and scale, pipes of narrow scale. Flutes, open or stopped (closed), are stops of a wider scale. Hybrids are tapered pipes such as the Gemshorn which have a multipurpose use. The reeds have a vibrating tongue, not unlike a party horn and provide colorful solos or more full sounds used in climaxes. Mixtures are complex stops with more than one rank or sound per note and are used to blend the ensemble, giving brightness to the lower notes and added weight to the upper. Various percussive sounds such as chimes, bells, or harpsichord (in some of the electronic instruments), are also available, though not essential.

Registration is the art of combining stops appropriately, which constitutes a special demonstration of the organist’s refined ear for sound. The organist should avoid using numerous stops of 8´ or unison pitch, but selectively add upper work, especially when leading the congregation’s singing. It is best to rely on a principal tone with sufficient upperwork to produce a bright sound. The organ should be of sufficient power to support and envelop the voices. Most inexperienced organists play too softly for proper support of congregational singing. Further, softer voices of the organ should be dropped as louder ones are added to retain clarity. It is better to add upper work than more and more stops of unison pitch.

Inexperienced organists often make excessive use of the tremulant (or vibrato in certain electronic instruments). This device produces an undulation in the tone of the instrument. Normal organ tone is without it. It may properly be used to provide warmth and contrast either on a soft solo voice or a soft accompaniment. It should be avoided on louder combinations. [In black gospel worship, however, organists have long used vibrato as a coloristic device, bringing the vibrato to a stop, which functions as an expectant pause, then pushing it to a progressively faster rate as the next musical phrase begins. This kind of use of the organ had a great influence on the use of electronic keyboards in rock music.]

Organists

Most organists start their organ training after studying the piano, when they are able to read music well and play the simpler works of composers such as Bach, Mozart, and Schumann, and have a moderate degree of facility in scales and a basic understanding of harmony. While it is a keyboard instrument like the piano and harpsichord, playing the organ requires its own technique, notwithstanding the addition of performance on the pedalboard. The organist, having at his or her disposal an instrument that sustains tone, must learn to provide finger movement which connects tones smoothly, a technique called substitution, and to carefully articulate repeated notes. While formal instruction is desirable, a pianist who has been called to serve as organist in a small church can profit immensely from working through a good organ-method book. Churches might consider offering partial scholarships for organ lessons to young performers to ensure a supply of properly trained musicians and to relieve the regular musician of the feeling of being chained to the organ bench.

Organ Music in the Worship Service

In the use of solo organ music for the worship service, repetition and routine in registration and in the character of the music selected are to be avoided. Each service should be musically unique and the works to be played chosen carefully. It is best to begin by selecting hymns and anthems that reflect the topics or themes of the appointed scriptural texts and then choosing organ music to complement them. Often these can be an effective treatment of one of the hymn tunes to be heard in the service or one of the many organ works inspired by a line or two of Scripture.

The organ prelude, which prepares for the mood of the service, can be quite short. Prefacing a service with the common fifteen minutes of featureless and forgettable background music should be avoided. Postludes too can be quite short and varied in character. There are many ways of designing the musical architecture of the worship service. Sometimes, for example, the most substantial use of the organ might be in the center of the service, especially if the end suggests something more introspective.

For most churches the more extended works of Bach, for example, may be too long and grand; in all but the largest churches, the congregation may have already left before the conclusion of the piece. An occasional “recital postlude” might prove welcome. For someone of moderate organ technique, the so-called Magnificat fugues of Johann Pachelbel might serve as excellent postludes. Preludes and postludes based on hymns selected for the core of the service are especially good.

The amount of worthy organ music is vast, from all periods. It ranges through all degrees of difficulty from the simplest (much worthy music having been written for the hands alone) to the most virtuoso. Almost all major composers are represented as well as some lesser-known who have made an especially great contribution to the instrument.

In order to avoid the inevitable sense of isolation and enervation that develops when one plays week after week, the solitary organist should avail himself of the opportunity of growth through membership and participation in the many events sponsored by the American Guild of Organists and various other organizations devoted to church music. In addition, listening to recordings of all kinds of music, not just those for their instrument and for the church, is desirable. Attendance at services and musical events sponsored by other churches will provide positive experiences. Hearing performances of symphonies and opera will also stimulate an awareness of the varied power of music. Ongoing musical, liturgical, and theological inquiry is essential. Churches should encourage this through affirmation and budgetary support. The organist is a privileged minister able to proclaim the gospel powerfully.

The History of the Organ in the Christian Church

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The honor accorded the pipe organ in Christian worship represents a curious paradox. On the one hand, the Christian church through most of its history has had an abiding antipathy toward instruments; on the other, the organ (together with bells) has, since the late Middle Ages, become so identified with the church that it embodies the very essence of “churchliness.” How could this have happened?

The early church’s rejection of instruments in worship and its mistrust of instrumental music of any kind is well known. In particular, the Roman hydraulis or water organ, a predecessor of the medieval church organ, was linked with pagan rites, games, and the theater. The early church writers had no more use for the organ than for any other pagan instrument. St. Jerome (fourth century) spoke out sharply against the organ, warning that Christian virgins should be deaf to its music (Johannes Quasten, Music and Worship in Pagan and Christian Antiquity, trans. Boniface Ramsey [Washington, D.C.: The Pastoral Press, 1983], 125; 112, n. 128). The Eastern Orthodox churches have never included instruments in their liturgies. In the West, the use of instruments in worship did not become commonplace until the Renaissance, and Roman Catholic ecclesiastical authorities remained somewhat averse to them until well into the twentieth century.

A Gift to Pepin

Yet in spite of its general hostility toward instruments, the Western church accepted the organ into its worship at a relatively early date—perhaps at some point during the tenth century, far in advance of any other instrument except bells. The normal explanation for this paradox begins with the gift of an organ from the Byzantine Emperor Constantine Copronymus to Pepin, king of the Franks, in 757. The gift evoked great curiosity—a fact mentioned in many contemporary chronicles—not only because all knowledge of the organ had died in the West but also because of the organ’s imperial connotations. The instrument played a central role in ceremonial occasions at the Byzantine court; indeed, the organ had become the unmistakable symbol of the emperor’s imperial majesty.

Pepin’s organ was later destroyed, but in 826 there arrived at the court of Louis the Pious (Pepin’s grandson) a Venetian priest, Georgius, who was trained in the art of organ building. At Louis’s behest, Georgius constructed an organ to replace the earlier instrument. A contemporary poem indicates just how significant the organ was to the self-esteem of the Frankish monarchs:

Thus, Louis, do you bring your conquests to Almighty God
And spread your aegis over noble kingdoms.
The realms your forbears could not gain by force of arms
Beg you of their own accord to seize them today.
What neither mighty Rome nor Frankish power could crush,
All this is yours, O Father, in Christ’s name.
Even the organ, never yet seen in France,
Which was the overweening pride of Greece
And which, in Constantinople, was the sole reason
For them to feel superior to Thee—even that is now
In the palace of Aix [the Frankish capital].
This may well be a warning to them, that they
Must submit to the Frankish yoke,
Now that their chief claim to glory is no more.
France, applaud him, and do homage to Louis.

Whose valor affords you so many benefits. (E. Faral, Ermold le Noir (Paris, 1932), 2515–2527, in Jean Perrot, The Organ from Its Invention in the Hellenistic Period to the End of the Thirteenth Century, trans. Norma Deane [London: Oxford University Press, 1971], 213)

It is generally assumed that the adulation accorded a distinguished Eastern court instrument by the more primitive Western court and church led to its eventual admission into the liturgy of the Western church. There may be some truth in this statement, for church and state were much intertwined during the Middle Ages. But the assumption does not suffice to explain why the Western church should so summarily dismiss its centuries-old prejudice against all instruments and so wholeheartedly embrace an instrument with hitherto unmistakably secular connotations—an about-face reflected in the fact that the most recognized early medieval experts in organ building were monks, e.g., Gerbert of Aurillac (later Pope Silvester II, reigned 999-1003) and Constantius of Fleury. Nor does it explain why early medieval accounts place organs in churches but do not link them with liturgical functions.

An Embodiment of Cosmic Harmony

These curious inconsistencies are perhaps best explained by understanding the organ of that time as an embodiment of cosmic harmony and a means of manifesting and teaching basic Neoplatonic doctrines associated with the classical educational curriculum, the quadrivium, and the medieval cosmic worldview.

The traditional Christian worldview, inherited from ancient Greek philosophy—especially from Plato—understood the cosmos as pervaded by harmonia, a quality that caused all things to be related and interconnected, and manifested to humans particularly through music. In his Timaeus, Plato, following Pythagoras, asserted that God constructed the universe according to specific proportions or ratios that were none other than those of the perfect musical intervals: the octave (2:1), the fifth (3:2), and the fourth (4:3). For Plato and for medieval Neoplatonic thinkers following Augustine, music was of divine origin. It was the means by which humans could contact and absorb into their souls the balance and perfection of cosmic harmony.

Platonic teachings on music won Christian support not only because they were embedded in the quadrivium but also because they were sympathetic to the suspicious attitude toward the sensuous enjoyment of music voiced by most of the church writers. That attitude insisted on strict regulation and restraint in musical expression and eventually fostered a “Christian” music with specific characteristics: ascetic severity, subtlety, rhythmic reserve, serene balance, and repose. The Christian cosmic worldview persisted throughout the Middle Ages (indeed, here and there until the eighteenth century), governing and energizing all facets of musical activity.

The evidence for understanding the organ as a symbol of cosmic harmony is scanty and inconclusive, as is much source material from the early Middle Ages; yet we can trace a slender thread of support for this view. The evidence begins with a statement by the early Christian writer Tertullian (third century), proto-Puritan who, it seems, would be least likely to approve a pagan instrument such as the organ.

Look at that very wonderful piece of organic mechanism by Archimedes—I mean his hydraulic organ, with its many limbs, parts, bands, passages for the notes, outlets for their sounds, combinations for their harmony, and the array of its pipes; but yet the whole of these details constitutes only one instrument. In like manner the wind, which breathes throughout this organ, at the impulse of the hydraulic engine, is not divided into separate portions from the fact of its dispersion through the instrument to make it play: it is whole and entire in its substance, although divided in its operation. (Tertullian, De Anima 14; translation and commentary in Robert Skeris, Musicae Sacrae Melethmata 1 [Altötting, W. Ger.: Coppenrath, 1976], 43)

Tertullian goes on to say that precisely like the windblown in the pipes throughout the organ, the soul displays its energies in various ways by means of the senses, being not indeed divided but distributed in the natural order. Behind Tertullian’s words, one can detect not only an assumed Christian monism but also the Greek, Neoplatonic presupposition of a harmonically ordered cosmos.

Some early medieval writers merely hint at this interpretation, as if they take it for granted. Thus St. Aldhelm (ca. 639–709), English poet, scholar, and teacher, wrote:

If a man longs to sate his soul with ardent music,
And spurns the solace of a thin cantilena,
Let him listen to the mighty organs with their thousand breaths,
And lull his hearing with the air-filled bellows,
However much the rest [of it] dazzles with its golden casings
Who can truly fathom the mysteries of such things,
Or unravel the secrets of the all-knowing God? (De Virginitate; trans. in Perrot, 224)

And in 873 Pope John VIII charged Anno, Bishop of Freising in Bavaria, “to send us, for the purpose of teaching the science of music, an excellent organ together with an organist capable of playing upon it and drawing the maximum amount of music from it” (Monumenta Germania Historica, Epist. Merov. et Karol Aevi. V, anno 873, p. 287; trans. in Perrot, 222).

Baldric, Bishop of Dol, is much less ambiguous in his estimation of the organ. In a letter written to the people of Fécamp sometime between 1114 and 1130, he says:

For myself, I take no great pleasure in the sound of the organ (ego siquidem in modulationibus organicis non multum delector); but it encourages me to reflect that, just as divers pipes, of differing weight and size, sound together in a single melody as a result of the air in them, so men should think the same thoughts, and inspired by the Holy Spirit, unite in a single purpose.… All this I have learned from the organs installed in this church. Are we not organs of the Holy Spirit? And let any man who banishes them from the church likewise banish all-vocal sound, and let him pray, with Moses, through motionless lips.… For ourselves, we speak categorically—because organs are a good thing, we regard them as mysteries and derive from them a spiritual harmony; it is this harmony that the Moderator of all things has instilled in us, by putting together elements entirely discordant in themselves and binding them together by a harmonious rhythm.… As we listen to the organ, let us be drawn together by a two-fold charity. (Patrologiae latinae clxvi, 1177–1178; trans. in Perrot, 220–221)

Even in such a late source as the Syntagma Musicum of 1619, Michael Praetorius implies a similar attitude toward the organ: a respect for the instrument’s paradigmatic perfection, evident above all in its complex and ingenious mechanism:

Almighty God alone can never be given sufficient thanks for having granted to man in His mercy and great goodness such gifts as have enabled him to achieve such a perfect, one might almost say the most perfect, creation and instrument of music as is the organ … in its arrangement and construction; and to play upon it with hands and with feet in such a manner that God in Heaven may be praised, His worship adorned, and man moved and inspired to Christian devotion. (Michael Praetorius, Syntagma Musicum II: De Organographia, trans. W. L. Sumner (Wolfenbüttel: Elias Holwein, 1619), 117–118)

The early appearance of organs in churches, then, may well not have been so much for practical music-making as for symbolic and didactic ends: symbolic in that the instrument was the material embodiment of cosmic harmony, and didactic in that it provided a visible, tangible “sermon” on that harmony. Together with the complex astronomical clocks still extant in some of the medieval cathedrals, organs may have witnessed the divine basis for the quadrivium and its underlying worldview. The clock represented divine order evident in the heavens, while the organ represented it in music; mathematics and geometry, the other disciplines of the quadrivium, were represented by the architecture of the cathedral church itself. (See Otto von Simson, The Gothic Cathedral [New York: Harper & Row, 1962], 43.)

The Later Middle Ages

Organs in the earlier Middle Ages normally consisted of a single rank of pipes. At some point during the later Middle Ages, however, the organ underwent a new development in which each key began to control a number of pipes sounding intervals of fifths and octaves above a fundamental pitch. Thus the instrument became, in effect, a single large mixture—a Blockwerk, to use the proper German term. This development was most likely brought about by the perception of the overtone series on the part of an organ theoretician or builder. Given the medieval preference for theory over practical observation, however, such an advance was probably grounded in a desire to make the organ embody even more perfectly the Pythagorean proof of cosmic harmony.

Had the medieval organ possessed a sensuous, affective tonal quality, no amount of praise for its perfect structure would have won it the church’s approval. Like Bishop Baldric, who was quoted above, the church hierarchy prized the organ not for its sound but for its symbolism. Indeed, the very quality of sound produced by the medieval organ had an affinity to the Christian ideal of cosmic harmony and to the objective, nonaffective music produced by that ideal. The sound had practically no expressive qualities, only the slightest capacity for nuance, little variety in tone, very limited rhythmic capabilities, and no potential for crescendo and diminuendo. The medieval organ was remote in its playing mechanism, remote from its listeners (organs were often set in a balcony or “swallows nest” high up on the church wall), and was situated in a remote, mystic, and awe-inspiring acoustical environment. Its most unique musical characteristic, the ability to hold a tone at a static dynamic level for a theoretically endless period of time, was distinctly superhuman. If one assumes, as the Middle Ages did, that variation and fluctuation belong to the human sphere, while awe, remoteness, and constancy are characteristic of the divine, the mysterious, the holy, then the qualities enumerated above would seem to render the organ a peculiarly hieratic musical instrument.

Whether or not the organ gained entry into the church because it was the embodiment of cosmic harmony, it seems fairly certain that the organ was not brought in at first to aid in the conduct of the liturgy. Again the sources are few and inconclusive, but the gradual incorporation of organ music into liturgical celebrations seems to parallel the rise to prominence of polyphony (see Peter Williams, A New History of the Organ ([Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1980], 47ff.)—a development that may also have gained impetus from Neoplatonic musical speculation. Since the organ’s mechanical advances succeeded in keeping pace with the demands placed on it by musical developments, the instrument became capable of performing intellectual, contrapuntal music as that music evolved in the church. Thus with the support of both speculation and practice, the organ gained a firm foothold. By the thirteenth century, most major churches in Europe—abbeys and secular cathedrals—possessed an organ, and by the fifteenth century, many of them had two: one for solo performance and a smaller one to accompany and support choral singing.

Papal and Conciliar Decrees

By the same conservative process that granted approval to other previously foreign elements after long-established use, the Roman Catholic church hierarchy gradually sanctioned the organ’s official use in the church’s liturgy. This process is best traced through papal and conciliar decrees that include statements on the organ. The only instrument mentioned in the decrees of the Council of Trent is the organ; its playing had to be free from any element that might be considered “lascivious or impure.” Other sixteenth-century ecclesiastical ordinances likewise mention no instrument other than the organ (St. Charles Borromeo, Council of Milan in 1565; Ceremoniale Episcoporum, 1600). By the eighteenth century, the use of the organ in churches was almost universal, yet Pope Benedict XIV was less than enthusiastic about it, a view shared by his successors up through the early twentieth century. As Benedict wrote in the eighteenth century:

Thus the use of the organ and other musical instruments is not yet admitted by all the Christian world. In fact (without speaking of the Ruthenians of the Greek rite, who according to the testimony of Father Le Brun have neither an organ nor any other musical instruments in their churches), all know that Our Pontifical Chapel [the Sistine Chapel], although allowing musical chant on condition that it be serious, decent and devout, has never allowed the organ.… In our days we find in France renowned churches that use neither the organ nor figurative chant [i.e., polyphony] in sacred functions.… (Pope Benedict XIV, Encyclical Annus Qui, February 19, 1749; trans. in Robert F. Hayburn, Papal Legislation on Sacred Music, 95 A.D. to 1977 A.D. [Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1979, 96])

Benedict’s successors wrote in the nineteenth century: Figured organ music ought generally to be in accord with the grave, harmonious and sustained character of that instrument. The instrumental accompaniment ought decorously to support and not drown the chant. In the preludes and interludes, the organ as well as the other instruments ought always to preserve the sacred character corresponding to the sentiment of the function. (Congregation of Sacred Rites, Encyclical Letter, July 21, 1884; in Hayburn, 141)

And so wrote the three popes who bore the name Pius in the twentieth century:

  • Although the proper music of the Church is only vocal, nevertheless the accompaniment of an organ is allowed. In any special case, within proper limits and with due care, other instruments may be allowed, too, but never without special leave from the Bishop of the Diocese, according to the rule of the Ceremoniale Episcoporum.
  • Since the singing must always be the chief thing, the organ and the instruments may only sustain and never crush it.
  • It is not lawful to introduce the singing with long preludes or to interrupt it with intermezzi.
  • The music of the organ in the accompaniment, preludes, interludes, and so on must be played not only according to the proper character of the instrument but also according to all the rules of real sacred music. (Pope Pius X,Motu proprio tra le sollecitudini, November 22, 1903; in Hayburn, 228–229)

There is one musical instrument, however, which properly and by tradition belongs to the Church, and that is the organ. On account of its grandeur and majesty, it has always been considered worthy to mingle with liturgical rites, whether for accompanying the chant, or, when the choir is silent, for eliciting soft harmonies at fitting times. In this matter also, however, it is necessary to avoid that mixture of sacred and profane which through the initiative of organ builders on one hand, and the fault of certain organists who favor ultramodern music on the other threatens the purity of the holy purpose for which the church organ is intended. While safeguarding the rules of liturgy, We Ourselves declare that whatever pertains to the organ should always make fresh development. But We cannot refrain from lamenting that, just as formerly, in the case of styles of music rightly prohibited by the Church so today again there is a danger lest a profane spirit should invade the House of God through new-fangled musical styles which, should they get a real foothold, the Church would be bound to condemn. Let that organ music alone resound in our churches which expresses the majesty of the place and breathes the sanctity of the rites; for in this way both the art of organ builders and that of the musicians who play the organ will be revived and render good service to the sacred liturgy. (Pope Pius XI, apostolic constitution Divini cultus, December 20, 1928; in Hayburn, 331)

These norms [against exaggerated, bombastic music] must be applied to the use of the organ or other musical instruments. Among the musical instruments that have a place in the church, the organ rightly holds the principal position, since it is especially fitted for the sacred chants and sacred rites. It adds a wonderful splendor and a special magnificence to the ceremonies of the Church. It moves the souls of the faithful by the grandeur and sweetness of its tones. It gives minds an almost heavenly joy and it lifts them powerfully to God and to higher things. (Pope Pius XII, encyclical Musicae sacrae disciplina, December 25, 1955, #58; in Hayburn, 353)

In the Latin Church, the pipe organ is to be held in high esteem, for it is the traditional musical instrument and one that adds a wonderful splendor to the Church’s ceremonies and powerfully lifts up man’s mind to God and to heavenly things. (Pope Pius XII, encyclical Musicae sacrae disciplina, December 25, 1955, #58; in Hayburn, 353)

Changing Tastes

The organ experienced its golden age during the Renaissance. By that time, its mechanism was much refined and improved, and sixteenth-century writings attest to the high proficiency level attained in organ performance. Most of the art from this period is unfortunately lost to us since it was largely improvised—the extant compositions represent only a minute fraction of its glory. There was enormous activity in organ building at this time; ordinary parish churches, as well as prominent ones, acquired organs. By the time of the Reformation, the organ’s place in worship was so well established that its use continued undisturbed among Lutherans and Anglicans, even though Luther and others were in fact less than enthusiastic about it.

Luther rarely mentioned organ playing, but occasionally he did express an opinion against it, reckoning it among the externals of the Roman service; on the other hand, he was also musician enough in this area to appreciate and praise the art of a Protestant organist like Wolff Heintz.… Most Lutheran church regulations, at least in the Reformation period, paid no attention to the organ, a few left it as “adiaphorous” (neither forbidden nor approved) as long as “psalms and sacred songs” rather than “love songs” were played upon it, and as long as the organ playing did not, through its length or autocracy, encroach upon the principal parts of the service. (Friedrich Blume, Protestant Church Music [New York: W. W. Norton, 1974], 107)

The growth of alternatim praxis (chants divided into versets for choir and organ in alternation; the term is also applied to the Lutheran chorale) continued to insure an important role for the organ in worship. By this means the organ was raised to a prominence equal to the pastor or priest, congregation, and choir, since it could “sing” an entire segment of chant or stanza of a chorale, leaving the people to meditate on the text (which they usually knew by heart).

The baroque era witnessed a decline in enthusiasm for the organ in southern Europe. Its mechanical development was arrested, less and less music was written for it (and what was written was of lesser quality), and there were fewer well-known organists. Calvinism stifled organ music in Switzerland, and Puritanism inflicted mortal wounds on it in Great Britain. The Ordinance of 1644 mandated the speedy demolishing of all organs, images, and all matters of superstitious monuments in all Cathedrals, and Collegiate or Parish-churches and Chapels, throughout the Kingdom of England and the Dominion of Wales, the better to accomplish the blessed reformation so happily begun and to remove offenses and things illegal in the worship of God. (1644 Ordinance of Lords and Commons; quoted in William Leslie Sumner, The Organ, Its Evolution, Principles of Construction and Use [London: Macdonald, 1962], 135)

The use of organs in the public worship of God is contrary to the law of the land and to the law and constitution of our Established church [of Scotland]. (Presbytery of Glasgow, Proceedings [1807]; see Ian Crofton and Donald Fraser, A Dictionary of Musical Quotations [New York: Schirmer, 1985], 107:15)

In the early seventeenth century, however, Protestant north Germany found a new purpose for the organ: to accompany congregational singing. Thus the organ continued to be assured a secure place in the church, not only for philosophical or theological reasons but also for practical ones. The instrument reached another mechanical and artistic high point in middle and northern Germany during the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, as Michael Praetorius’s enthusiastic affirmation quoted above indicates. More than coincidence explains the fact that the authors who furthered ideas about world harmony during this period are the same ones who showed the greatest interest in the organ: Praetorius, Kircher, Werkmeister. Indeed the organ has flourished wherever the Neoplatonic worldview has been cultivated. The seventeenth-century English poets who eulogize the Neoplatonic concept of world harmony praise the instrument:

Ring out, ye crystal spheres,
Once bless our human ears,
(If ye have power to touch our senses so)
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time;
And let the Bass of Heav’ns deep Organ blow,
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full consort to th’ Angelick symphony. (John Milton, “Hymn on the Morning of Christ’s Nativity” [1645])

But oh! what art can teach,
What human voice can reach
The sacred organ’s praise?
Notes inspiring holy love,
Notes that wing their heav’nly ways
To mend the choirs above. (John Dryden, “A Song for St. Cecilia’s Day” [1687])

When the full organ joins the tuneful choir, Th’immortal Pow’rs incline their ear. (Alexander Pope, “Ode for Musick on St. Cecilia’s Day” [c. 1708])

J. S. Bach’s music represents the final glorious flourish, both for the concept of cosmic harmony in music (see Timothy Smith, “J. S. Bach the Symbolist,” Journal of Church Music 27:7 [September 1985]: 8-13, 46) and for the organ as a vitally important factor in the music world; even during Bach’s lifetime, the organ was being relegated to the fringe, where it has remained. Yet by that composer’s time, the interplay of sacred and secular ideas made paradox the order of the day: it is a measure of Bach’s profound synthesizing genius that he made the organ “dance”; a less likely instrument for dancing can hardly be imagined!

The pressure of the radically new Enlightenment ideas about music, such as the idea that its primary function consisted of expressing human emotion or providing entertainment and relaxation, had an enormous impact on the status of the organ and its music. The latter half of the eighteenth century witnessed a rapid decline and trivialization of the organ and its music, a trend that prevailed through the first half of the nineteenth century. The instrument could not compete with the new intimate, affective gestures, the rapid shifts of mood and emotional range of preclassical and classical symphonies and secular keyboard music (e.g., the works of the Mannheim School, or of C. P. E. Bach and Haydn). Compared with them, “the organ quite naturally was thought of as a clumsy, screeching, dynamically monotonous instrumental monster” (Arnfried Edler, “The Organist in Lutheran Germany,” in Walter Salmen, ed., The Social Status of the Professional Musician from the Middle Ages to the 19th Century [New York: Pendragon, 1983], 89).

If it were to be asked what instrument is capable of affording the greatest effects? I should answer, the Organ.… It is, however, very remote from perfection, as it wants expression, and a more perfect intonation. (Charles Burney, A General History of Music [London, 1776-89], quoted in Dictionary of Musical Quotations, 107–113)

[Organ playing] in France was generally irreverent, although once in a while a significant talent came to my attention within this irreverence. Not rarely is a gay pastorale heard during a church service which turns into a thunderstorm before closing with a sort of operatic grand finale in freestyle. Given that this is untenable from the German religious point of view, it must be admitted that such things are often done quite talentedly. A requiem mass for Lafitte in the church of Saint Roch gave me the opportunity to hear one M. Lefébure-Wély play in a solemn, appropriate manner, whereas he worked up a tremendous gay mood during the mass on Sunday. In response to my astonishment over this, I was told that the clergy, as well as the congregation, expect light-hearted music. (Adolph Hesse, “On organs, their appointment and treatment in Austria, Italy, France and England” [observations on a trip made in 1844], Neue Zeitschrift fr Musik [1853]: 53; trans. in Rollin Smith, “Saint-Saëns and the Organ,” The American Organist 20:4 [April 1986]: 190-191)

In spite of this decline, however, the organ continued to solidify its position as the musical instrument of the church. By the nineteenth century its sound had come to be regarded as the epitome of churchliness; even those church bodies whose Puritan heritage had hitherto rejected the organ now began to embrace it. Yet significant composers of the period between 1750 and 1850 wrote little or nothing of note for the organ, and no organist of this period was accorded the degree of international recognition granted to the premier violinists, pianists, and singers of the time. This held true even until the present day.

The Modern Revival

The mid-nineteenth century marked the beginning of attempts to rescue the organ from neglect and trivialization; for example, the outstanding work of Mendelssohn in Germany; S. S. Wesley in England; Cavaillé Coll, Hesse, and Franck in France. These attempts were essentially within the framework of the church; the corresponding groundswell to restore the organ to a position of prominence in the world of secular music never attained the same degree of intensity. The revival of the organ within the church was bound up almost entirely with efforts toward church renewal after its first disastrous encounter with Enlightenment ideas. Revival was largely fueled by Romantic sentiments, especially those of historicism (e.g., the revival of gothic architecture and the music of Palestrina and Bach) and aestheticism (the devotion to and cultivation of beauty). As neither of these movements had a firm theological basis, the organ’s continued existence in the church came to rest on its practical usefulness as a means of supporting large-group singing and on the increasingly unshakable conviction among the majority of Christian worshipers that the organ is the church’s instrument. (The latter notion has at times created problems for the organ, as well as discomfort for organists, especially those who do not wish to be associated with the church.)

Nineteenth-century attempts to make the organ conform to the new taste and the new “enlightened” worldview included enclosed divisions with swell shades and devices for rapid change of registration. These were quite clumsy, especially when compared with the flexible expressivity of the orchestra or piano, and they were only partially successful. Thus there arose in the early twentieth century a countermovement (the Orgelbewegung or Organ Reform Movement) that did away with the questionable “improvements” and once again built organs that were in greater conformity with older musical ideals—and inevitably with the old worldview. The revival of older organ-building techniques and concepts has only exacerbated the antipathy of those increasingly prevalent forces in the twentieth-century church that promote the ideal of a popular, intimate, and human-scaled church and worship.

The demise of the antique and medieval worldviews has relegated the organ to the fringe of the post-Enlightenment musical scene: to the degree that the modern instrument participates in the characteristics of the medieval organ, it evokes and espouses by the very character of its sound the medieval worldview. The notion that the organ is the church’s proper instrument is still strong in many quarters, but the idea has powerful detractors. The rise of styles of worship that deemphasize or exclude the organ while featuring the use of other instruments underlines the gradual dethronement of the organ as the special instrument of the church.