Würzburg, Part IV— The Cathedral 1945 - 2008

…And then 1945.

On the night of 16 March 1945 226 Lancaster Bombers of the RAF reduced this magnificent house of God to rubble in 17 minutes. The medieval city center was engulfed in a firestorm which killed 5000 people in as much time. 90% of the city smoldered in ruins. Fortunately, some artwork was preserved— the bell of 1257 which was moved into the crypt, St. Kilian’s Book of Gospels which he brought from Ireland nearly 1300 years before (housed in the University Library) etc. Proportionately, Würzburg was more completely destroyed than Dresden to the east.

In another sickening twist of fate a month later…much of the state and ecclesiastical archives were moved for safekeeping to the castle at Wässerndorf (next to Seinsheim) in the country. Among other things, prosperous segments of the Diocese of Würzburg had kept exquisite and thorough sacramental records dating back to the beginning of the 16^th century— exceptionally rare considering the Council of Trent did not mandate this practice until decades later that century. Following the death of an American officer USAF P-47 Thunderbolts firebombed the area and ground troops torched the castle on 5 April 1945. The building burned for days and most records were lost.

In the winter of 1946 most of the remaining sections of the Kiliansdom collapsed. Over the next two decades countless Trümmerfrauen (‘Rubble-women’) carefully rebuilt and replicated much of the historical city.

There were three reconstruction proposals for the cathedral. The winning bid was taken in 1960 and the building was completed in 1967 incorporating what it could of the previous structure. A splendid historically-informed organ by Klais arrived in the gallery in 1969.

The choir was set up as the presbytery, and the cathedra relocated in the apse. The remaining stucco was preserved and renovated, while the flat nave ceiling received modern painting by Fritz Nagel. A bulk of the responsibility and decision making for this courageous and pioneering design came from Bishop Julius Döpfner and builder Hans Schädel. And, finally…the main altar was relocated to the crossing!

As mentioned above, one bell survived WWII— the Lobdeburg bell of 1257. The others melted. In 1965 eleven new bells were cast by Schilling of Heidelberg. The largest bell at nine tons is aptly inscribed: “JESV CHRISTE - SALVATOR MVNDI VENI CVM PACE - ANNO DOMINI MCMLXV” (Jesus Christ - Savior of the world, come in peace - In the year of our Lord 1965). Since 2000 the bells have been controlled by a computerized system.

The last couple decades have seen some additional work: in 1987 Hubert Elsässer added paintings depicting the history of the Faith in Franconia and in 2006 a new bright exterior painting brought the exterior closer to its original color. The cathedral is today a unique mix of Romanesque, Baroque, and Modern elements.

2008 saw the 160^th anniversary of the German Bishop’s Conference which first met in Würzburg in 1848 and quite appropriately reconvened there this year. On Monday 12 February more than 70 cardinals, archbishops, and bishops came together for Mass with Karl Cardinal Lehmann in the Kiliansdom. The outgoing Cardinal Chairman offered high praise for the diocese: "Wurzburg is a good place and a home for the Church in our country."

Also this spring eight new bells from the Rudolf Perner foundry of Passau were added, brining the total to 20. The Kiliansdom presently has the largest peal in Germany. It was dedicated on 22 May, this year. Check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eveLP_-_KIA

Würzburg, Part III— The Cathedral 743 - 1945

Würzburg’s Kiliansdom stands as a lesson in stone— just leave buildings alone, even if you don’t like them. Architectural styles come and go and one often becomes the whipping-boy of the next. In the end, however, a building is a representation of its era. There is no timeless style. Architecture is temporal; it exists in time because it is physical. Having an intact structure as a humanistic record (if not a theological one as well) is far better than well-intended ‘wreck-o-vations’ or just plain out smoldering wrecks. This seems hard for some people to grasp in the US— we have had the luxury of stability and the good fortune of a relatively small span of Western heritage to preserve (a few hundred years on the coasts/southwest and much less for the rest of us). Our complicit lethargy engenders foolish quibbling. A brief turn about Dresden, London, Coventry, etc. anytime in the last 60 years will get one’s priorities in order! http://www.dom-wuerzburg.de/

Bishop Burkhard established the first provisional Cathedral of Würzburg at the preexisting Marienburg Church in 743. The first purpose-built cathedral followed four decades later. Bishop Berowelf (episcop. 769 - 800) dedicated the new Cathedral of Christus Salvator in the presence of Charlemagne in 788. The bones of the three city patrons, martyred 100 years before and venerated since papal approval in 752 (when they were found buried in a stable), were moved to the new church.

This Frankish structure was renowned for its size, much like Köln later. Sadly, on 5 June 855 a lightning strike burned down most of the building and a storm three days later caused the remaining walls to collapse. Bishop Arn (855 - 892) built a third cathedral which burned again in 918. This time the fire destroyed numerous liturgical artifacts and documents. Between 855 and 1045 this Carolingian church was redesigned several times.

Under Bishop Bruno (1034 - 1045) the cathedral was redone in 1040 using older parts. Inspired by the work at the Speyer Cathedral the expansion plans included a pair of towers flanking the choir, a reconstruction of the transept, and the building of a larger nave with square twin-towers in the west front as well as a triangular pediment between. Bruno died as a result of an accident at a dinner party during the time of the construction on the choir. He was later canonized.

The crypt was consecrated simultaneous with Bruno’s burial by Bardo, Archbishop of Mainz on 16 June 1045. Bruno's successor Adalbero continued construction until completion 1075. Due to its external dimensions and superb architectural quality the new Cathedral of St. Kilian was one of the most impressive monuments of the time. This Bruno-Adalbero cathedral retained mere fragments of the older church— two of the capitals from the portals were removed to the crypt.

Bishop Embricho (1127 - 1146) charged master builder Enzelin in 1133 to "restore and beautify" the cathedral— especially the roof which was "almost in ruins" (always a problem in big buildings)! Besides the restoration work he extended the west towers and transformed the choir adding vaulted spans which were still preserved under the 18th Century stucco.

Bishop Gottfried von Spitzenberg (1186 - 1190) had three altars built in 1188. Each served a different purpose and effected liturgical segregation. During the high Mass with choir they used main altar; during parish level celebrations they used their own altar. This practice persisted for centuries!

In 1225 Bishop Hermann von Lobdeburg (1225 - 1254) remodeled the eastern section— notably completing a central dome. By 1250 Würzburg’s Cathedral took its final shape.

At 105 meters this building was the fourth largest Romanesque structure in Germany; a masterpiece of Salian architecture.

If the Kiliansdom represented the Romanesque well then it was high time for Gothic! In 1500 the aisles were transformed with rib vaulting with elaborate caps. The middle pediment between the towers of the western front was heightened and crowned in 1507 with a dainty clock.

During the Counter-Reformation in 1610 the city council commissioned Michael Kern to build an elaborate pulpit on southern side of the nave. Under Prince-Bishop Johann Gottfried von Aschhausen (1617 – 1623) the rood screen was removed in 1619.

Then came the Baroque craze in 1701! Previous renovations were nothing compared to this. Prince-Bishop Johann Philipp von Greiffenclau (1699 – 1718) approved several proposals from the Milan-born plasterer and architect Pietro Magno. Michael Rieß and Johann Balthasar engaged numerous renowned artists and craftsmen to the task. They moved the choir from the crossing to the east end and crowned the altar with a wide and rich golden baldachin. The picture is a 1731 proposal by J.L. von Hildebrand. Good Lord!

Between 1879 and 1883 Friedrich Friedreich oversaw a Neo-Romanesque overhaul of the façade, focusing on the gable, pediment, and portals. The photo here comes from a postcard of 1904.

Würzburg, Part II— Some Notable Figures

Shortly after St. Burchard/Burkard arrived in 741, Karlmann, the Frankish mayor of the palace, bequeathed a large amount of land to the diocese. The bishops dutifully continued to push for Christianizing Saxony. The nobles, in turn, showered them with real estate and free residence at the Marienburg fortress over the city.

By the early 750’s Würzburg’s bishops were well on their way to wielding great secular power in their own right! Indeed they would be Fürst-bischof or “Prince-bishop” over a growing swatch of land until the secularization of 1803. Through the Middle Ages and Renaissance numerous bishops saw great players in the arts and humanities in their town— Albertus Magnus, O.P., the philosopher; Mathias Grünenwald, the painter; etc. For centuries the Würzburg bishopric was a state of the Franconian Circle, an Imperial Circle of the Holy Roman Empire. The University was founded in 1402— one of the oldest in German speaking lands. Unfortunately it initially floundered because of financial and cultural instability. (Those humanists!) Johannes Trithemius, abbot of a local monastery, wrote in 1506 that the failure was due to "bathing, love, brawling, gambling, inebriation, squabbling and general pandemonium [which was] ...'greatly impeding the academic achievement in Würzburg.'" And who said collegiate rowdiness came with the sexual revolution of the 1960's? Apparently good hygiene is the real culprit. Oh, and in 1423 a student's assistant fatally stabbed the first Chancellor Johann Zantfurt.


Perhaps Würzburg’s most famous residents/prelates were the Schönborn family (as in Christoph Cardinal Schönborn, present Archbishop of Vienna). In the 17^th and 18^th centuries Würzburg had three Schönborn bishops. Most notably two brothers/bishops, Johann Philipp Franz and Friedrich Karl von Schönborn, oversaw the construction of the indulgent Würzburg Residenz between 1720 and 1744. Architects Johann Lukas von Hildebrandt and Maximilian von Welsch designed this new palace for the bishops. Balthasar Neumann created the famous Baroque staircase. Its Hofkirche and stairwell frescoes (the largest in the world) by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo shine as some of the most opulent (nearly grotesque!) examples of rococo one can find! Quite appropriately this structure sits on the UNESCO World Heritage Site roster. http://www.residenz-wuerzburg.de/englisch/residenz/index.htm

18^th Century bishop Adam Friedrich von Seinsheim (episcop. 1755-1779) oversaw major redesign of the Residenz palace gardens— as well as work on landscaping at his suffragan see and subsidiary residence at Bamberg to the east. Von Seinsheim was from an old noble family that, as the name suggests, traced its roots to nearby market town of Seinsheim (my family’s home) with one Erkinger who died in 917. Of course, as these things go, Adam Friedrich’s mother was a Schönborn. This made the Schönborn bishops his uncles.

The Von Seinsheim family itself has died out in 1917 but it persists in one branch— the House of Schwarzenberg. The Schwarzenberg’s had significant fiefdoms in Bohemia and owned a number of palaces, notably the Palais Schwarzenberg in Vienna. Construction on this marvelous baroque structure began in 1697 and it is now a hotel— owned by the family, of course!

More recently, and more secularly, Wilhelm Röntgen, discovered X-rays at the University of Würzburg in 1895.

Würzburg, Part I— The Church in Unterfranken

Everyone knows Berlin. Everyone knows Frankfurt. Everyone knows Köln. What about Würzburg? I certainly had a vested interested in acquainting myself with this locale as my family was only a few kilometers away laying bricks for God-knows-how-many centuries! Despite my personal interest (or anyone’s) it always seems that in the small world of European political and cultural cross-pollination everything is connected, every place has played a part.

This spot in the world came under the Roman influence when Winfrid of Crediton (St. Boniface) was still a wee lad over in Wessex. Details are scarce, but apparently St. Kilian, the patron of the diocese to this day, was born around 640 in Ireland or Scotland. Like many monks of the British Isles during the early middle ages he (and 11 companions) soon left to convert, ‘civilize,’ teach etc. on the continent. Thus in the 680’s he crossed over to Gaul, passed over the Rhine, and made his way up the Main valley ending up at the castle of Thuringian (Frankish) Duke Gozbert— pagan, of course.

After hanging around Gozbert for a while he decided to head to Rome in the summer of 686 to get some paperwork from the Pope to make his missionary status ‘official.’ When he returned after obtaining his faculties (he was a “regional bishop,” something like a vicar apostolic on the American frontier) his posse had thinned out and he was left with two companions: a priest Coloman, and a deacon Totnan.

Kilian converted Gozbert and soon spread Christianity with missionary zeal over Franconia (modern Northern Bavaria) and Thuringia just to the north. There was one problem, however— Gozbert’s wife Geilana was his brother’s widow. Kilian convinced the Duke that he ought to separate but the Duchess was not a fan. Again, the facts are nebulous, but on or around 8 July 689, when Gozbert was away, Geilana had the three missionaries murdered. (The earliest full scholarly exploration of St. Kilian is Der heilige Kilian, Regionarbischof u. Martyrer. Franz Emmerich. Würzburg, 1896).

But alas, they had already become a Christian family! Gozbert’s son Hetan built a church dedicated to Mary at the castle and thus the fortress was thereafter called Marienburg. In 704 we see for the first time the Latin designation Castellum Virtebuch for the city on the River Main below the fortress— the earliest presence of the name which has become Würzburg.

Now enters Winfrid, our more famous apostle to the Germans. Needless to say, he was caught in the midst of a political dynamic quite unlike his predecessor! Winfrid went to Rome in 718 where Pope Gregory II gave him the new name Bonifacius and sent him back north the following year, 719. Boniface noticed the residual influence of Kilian in Thuringia as he worked there as well as in Frisia and Hesse in the years following 719. In November 722 he moved up the ranks again as Pope Gregory II appointed him Bishop of the German lands.

Beginning in 723, Boniface came under the protection of Charles Martel and the Carolingians. This Frankish dynasty wanted to defeat their rival, pagan Saxons. When Boniface was made Archbishop of all German lands in 732 his clout and immense experience throughout the area over nearly 20 years became an asset for the Frankish nobles— though he personally had little to gain from this alliance. Nevertheless, his contemporary Daniel of Winchester pointed out that Boniface could “neither administer his church, defend his clergy, nor prevent idolatry” without his political protectors.

Not surprisingly, Charles Martel set to work establishing dioceses throughout Bavaria in the late 730s— Regensburg, Freising, Passau. They would surround and subdue the Saxons with political structure and Roman ecclesiastical order (perhaps inseparable then)!

Boniface himself received the Metropolitan see of Mainz in 745. As the Franks divided the land further into bishoprics moving north they allowed Boniface relative freedom in recommending/selecting his own bishops— so long as they would continue to push Christianity and be Frank-friendly vis à vis anti-Pagan Saxon. And so it was, no later than the summer of 741, that Boniface consecrated his friend and fellow-Englishman, Burchard as first Bishop of Würzburg. The red-tape was cleared and Pope Zachary confirmed the appointment and foundation of the diocese in a letter of 1 April 743.

87 bishops have followed down to the present day.

21 November- A Story for Today

Driving home from Lawrence I passed through the rolling hills of northeastern Kansas. Contrary to images conjured up by “Wizard of Oz” beautiful broken hills constitute much of the state. Moving towards the Missouri River, patches of timber and outcroppings of limestone peak through the soil. Ages of water racing to the sea carved out craggy bluffs which hover over the wide river. On a fine fall day it makes for a picturesque drive.

The human geography in that neck if the woods is no less interesting. The entire Missouri valley was long frequented by French Fur Trappers, and their ‘Half-Breed’ families. Many of the oldest towns in the area came out of this business— St. Joseph, MO was founded by Joseph Robidoux in 1843. The WASP settlers came in the 1850s. Bordering a slave state, plenty of conflict inevitably erupted. Atchison briefly had a pro-slavery newspaper. Bordering Missouri counties were hotbeds for Confederate sympathy before and after the war (including Jesse James’ family). German Benedictine Monks established an abbey in Atchison in 1857 and ministered to Irish immigrants. Then Germans came too.

By the time my family showed up Atchison County was long settled. I thought about these folks today as this is the 126^th anniversary of their marriage. Both came from relatively unusual circumstances…at least considering our contemporary stereotypes of period values. We pine for the ‘good old days’. We do it a lot— especially concerning religion, family values, welfare, patriotism, immigration, etc. Today seems an appropriate time to reflect.

Joseph Emmerich was born in a small but historically significant Bavarian village in August 1855. Though Seinsheim sits in a fertile wine growing region he and his forebears were traditionally stonemasons and bricklayers. According to tradition they participated in the renovation of the large medieval cathedral of Würzburg nearby. (Seinsheim had excellent records extending back to the early 1500’s but, sadly, everything was destroyed when the USAF firebombed the area at the end of WWII).

When Joseph was 17 his family got wind of a forthcoming military appointment. So, naturally, he booked it for America in 1872. Tradition has it that our draft-dodger was a stowaway. Sure enough he shows up on no ships’ lists. Interestingly, one “Josef Emerich” does appear but that one appears to be Jewish— hardly helping the ‘mainstream’ argument. (I do, nevertheless, suspect Semitic roots in this branch, however, from other sources… but I digress).

Joseph drops off the map until 1880 when he surfaces in rural Atchison County, KS near Effingham. His father and siblings came over and joined him. They worked as stonemasons around small commercial quarry operations. One source hints that Joseph lived in Missouri prior to settling in Kansas. It was there that I suspect he met his wife…which brings me to Louise.

Louise Breitenwischer was born in March 1862 in Carondelet, MO, a bustling river town immediately to the south of St Louis. When she was born there were slaveholders in the neighborhood. By the time she died 90 years later we had atomic weapons and neon lights. She reportedly didn’t talk much about her family during her long life. I can understand why. Louise was illegitimate— her father a German Lutheran and a severe alcoholic, her mother French Catholic.

To be fair her grandmother was also born to a single mom. The village moral authority of 1815 could not have looked kindly upon “inconnu” or “unknown” scribbled in under “father’s name”! The great-grandmother in turn was born in exile— their family dislodged from their Rhenish border-town by Austrian troops coming to the aid of Monarchists during the Reign of Terror in the 1790s. It was not easy for them.

Within a five year range of 1882 things looked pretty bad for Louise. Both her parents, her remaining grandparents, and most of her aunts and uncles all died from alcoholism, alcohol related accidents or tuberculosis. The City of St Louis had annexed Carondelet and the family home was now wedged between the Mississippi, a shipyard, RR, and a sewage ditch which drained most of the city.

But there’s no hand up like a “hand-out.” Louise’s brother Frederick had saved $500— a handsome sum for 1882. He gave her the money so she would have a chance to get out, get married, and have a good life. (As an aside, Fred and his family came out alright— this particular anecdote was passed to me by a descendant, a daughter of one Busch Stadium organist and her husband a certain Cardinals player/Hall of Fame broadcaster).

And so it was that Louise got on a boat in the fall of 1882. It wound its way over 300 miles up the Missouri to Atchison, KS. Shortly thereafter Joseph Emmerich and Louise Breitenwischer were married 21 November 1882 at St. Ann’s in Effingham.

They had two kids, one of whom was my great-grandfather. Joseph held numerous jobs from mason, to restaurant proprietor, to shoe repairman, to farmer. He did well enough to sit on the building committee for the new Catholic Church in Effingham in 1896. Sadly, that building was destroyed fire (suspected arson) in April 2008.

I didn’t go through Effingham on my way home from Lawrence. However, as I passed though the Missouri Valley I thought a great deal about all the life and stories those hills have witnessed. God Bless them all.

Chant and Doing Things the 'Right Way'

Last week I attended “Windows on Chant” at Kansas University. The Division of Organ and Church Music at KU http://www2.ku.edu/~organ/ hosts an annual thematic conference in the fall. This year’s gathering centered around the theory, history, and practice of Chant.

Drs. Michael Bauer and James Higdon put together a splendid program (as solid as the department over which they preside!) Two ‘heavy-hitter’ presenters took us through our time together. Fr. Anthony Ruff OSB lectured on the history of Chant, its revival and semiology and Susan Ferré addressed the practical component from a keyboard (organ) perspective.

It would have been difficult to find a more qualified American scholar of Chant than Fr. Ruff. He brings a bounty of experience and scholarship to the table— ranging from his life as a Benedictine to his Doctoral studies in the heart of the German semiological school at Graz. By all accounts his book Sacred Music and Liturgical Reform is a sober, formidable, and long-awaited balanced breath of fresh air (for the Catholic world).

The conference was well attended and Fr. Ruff pointed out that these days most Chant seminars are. Chalk it up to orthodoxy/conservativism/whatever you want to call it— it is unmistakably a trend. Among tradition-oriented crowds the motivation is particularly clear— this is getting back to our roots. And make no mistake that’s important. Vatican II was indeed quite clear about preserving the corpus of Sacred Music. However, nothing happens without a little irony.

As Fr. Ruff gave his talk on the history of Chant revival at Solesmes the funny business became clear. Call it a tale of two monks: after years of sparring with the Germans and bucking unfounded Papal endorsements of the Cecilians the French school of Chant interpretation took the lead (ca. 1903). But all was not well. The Solesmes monks all wanted to do the right/authentic thing…but they disagreed about what precisely that was. Infighting ensued.

Joseph Pothier suggested that rhythm should be driven by the text (oratorical). André Mocquereau supported a smooth equal rhythm. Mocquereau won that battle (as any person who sings Solesmes Chant knows). As it turns out, according to the current scholarly consensus (built upon a convergence of the best available sources), the wrong guy won. There were other disputes to be sure but this ironic incident represents a microcosm of historical performance practice debates and even historical research at large.

The principle? The first fruits of retrospective scholarship tend to miss the mark— and moreover, they often stick.

The axiomatic goal of historical research is to bring forth knowledge which can elevate and refine our present practices (most certainly for those which claim a historical flavor!) But what happens when misunderstandings, hasty conclusions or even flagrant disregard for sources leave us more Greek than the Greeks or “more Medieval than the Medievals?” (to borrow a line from Fr. Ruff). In other words, is there value to our imitation of historical styles if they are not, in fact, historical? The short answer (which I suspected and Fr. Ruff confirmed) is yes…but only through what I daresay is a modern concept of art criticism: judge it on its own terms— the “ars gratis artia.” This is nothing new in most circles but it may be tough medicine in some Catholic subgroups which see this pluralism as nothing more than applied moral relativism.

Fr. Ruff put it this way, “I grew up with the Solesmes Chant. The smooth, equalist flow has its own beauty and appeal [albeit a-historical]. I can appreciate that.” In fact, he went on to add that some of the most rigorous historically informed German renditions of chant are indeed a bit laborious! So where does this leave us? I don’t think there is a clear answer. We will always experience tension between historic authenticity and art for its own sake. Is St. Patrick’s in New York good Gothic architecture? No, it’s a wonderful neo-Gothic church. Do nineteenth-century tales of chivalry give us useful insights into medieval culture? No, they’re good Romantic literature.

We can’t ever recreate the past and even if we could it would never affect us the same way. Mozart will not sound the same to ears which have heard Bruckner and the Beatles. The power of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony escapes us thanks to a million TV commercials and an overused hymn. Nikolaus Harnoncourt put this well, “a deceptive cadence that one already knows no longer deceives, [it] no longer is a deceptive cadence.”

Therefore, Chanters beware! If you think that sixth of the hexachord in Ave Maria is a veritable transport to a 10^th century monastery, think again. Hartker, Notker, and John of St. Gall just might hear you with perplexed and furrowed brows.

The end of an era

Last night a friend asked me to place a bet on when the Presidential Election would be called. I don't particularly relish gambling (although I did win my money back at the boats this weekend) but I said what I thought.

I figured that everything would come together without much ado by 11 CST. A little last-minute statistical tip from a Gallup employee always helps!

It seems I made a reasonable guess.

I rather enjoy politics. I love the constant dialog, discussion and debate. I believe that a nation manifests its health in robust dispute. At the end of the day mutual respect prevails and we learn and grow.

I must admit, however, that these last few weeks have worn on me. It is time for 5 November. I am glad for tomorrow but nevertheless thankful for today.

Regardless of how I or anyone feels about the outcome this evening I believe that it points to at least one undeniable trend: our national identity is shifting.

I have traveled on something of a wild terrestrial and ideological journey over the last few months. Last Saturday morning I found myself planted at the kitchen table squarely across from my aunt.

Aunt D- came to town to review some paperwork for my grandmother's estate plan. She grimaced and griped, "Aren't you glad that you don't have to deal with this mess?" Lacking any context whatsoever I was perplexed. "What do you mean?" I queried. "You know, owning oil rights and real estate...all this paperwork, those taxes...I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

A real mess, indeed! I don't get too upset with Aunt D., however. Our minute conversation speaks volumes about her and all the people like her- and there are plenty. A born Texan, a bit ahead being a baby-boomer, and a life-long Midwesterner she has lived in a charmed world. Nothing has compelled her to engage the world all around her. She goes to the grocery store and then drives 20 miles to JC Penny's to pick up a pair of slacks. She watches the 'soaps' and Wheel of Fortune. She dusts all the furniture everyday and mows the lawn weekly. And, once a month, like clockwork, gets a pension check and a little oil royalty. That's the world. That was largely her parents' world. I understand.

But it's not mine.

America used to "Speak softly and carry a big stick." Then it yelled and smacked people with said weapon. Then, it was back to big sticks- giant nuclear ones and smooth, hard talk. Now everyone has big atomic sticks. What Dr. Strangelove predicted (with necessary sexy consequences) is disturbingly possible and hardly sexy in the least.

We have nukes, lots of other people with nukes, Russia, Iran, North Korea, a war, a faltering economy, dwindling oil, evaporating national resources and a world of countries who think as much of our policy as they do our current Commander in Chief. London gentlemen utter his name like a different kind of 4-letter word. I didn't believe it until I heard it myself.

I could roll my eyes. I could think of how we didn't used to need anyone and probably still don't. (We saved the French and Europe on D-day afterall!) I can rest rest on my laurels. I could just throw the newspaper in the trash and go to Penny's and pick up a pair of slacks... But the world has become to small and our capacity for evil has become too great.

I would hate to overstate the point, however. I'm not sure if it's ever possible to have a "global community." I believe 'community' has limits. It is concentrated. I merely believe we are more connected than ever. This is hardly a 'either...or' scenario. I see it as 'both...and.' Community can and indeed must remain intact in a global or post-national age. We need the sanity of balance. People seem to recognize this more and more.

The photo I added above has a grove of trees in the background. When my grandmother grew up in the years following World War I everyone came to that grove on hot summer days for picnics with watermelon in the shade. They were all Germans and mostly related. In the 20's exploration companies found oil all around. Many people got a little piece of the piece. They farmed, raised stock, and got a royalty check. It was a good life. For generations most of them lived in died within a few miles of where they started. And it worked.

I'm not jealous of that world. It worked and worked well for many. I'm grateful for mine and glad that we are beginning to see the difference.

The Correct Translation

I have a confession: rather than practicing those indespensible scales I have been perusing the Catholic blogosphere- both time consuming and occasionally frustrating! After two hours of digging I feel like every synapse in my brain is firing. There are just too many worthy issues to discuss and not nearly enough time... and given that this is an big election year everything is spinning in overdrive.

A series of posts on the Commonweal blog caught my eye. The USCCB's rejection of the newly proposed Roman Missal translations (reported 8 July) has generated a firestorm of response.

And here is where I descend into the generalizations: On one hand many US Bishops disliked the archaic language of the 2008 ICEL proposal. There is a great need for sensitive and resonant texts. Afterall, if people can't comprehend language what use has it?

On the other side champions of the newly proposed texts see this as a refreshing return to the authentic spirit of of the Latin texts- or at least a bona fide step in that direction. The 1997 ICEL translation was a 'watered-down' politically correct sham.

Looking at side-by-side excepts from the Missale Romanum, the Cramner/Duffy Reformation-era English, and the 1997 and 2008 ICEL renditions we can make some interesting observations. The differences are clear but the the motivations, ideology, and Ecclesiology behind them is at best debatable and at worst open to pure and shameless speculation.

For example: the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time: from 1997 we get "O God, the strength of all who hope in you..." From 2008 we have "O God, the strength of those who hope in you..." What's the difference? "All." Oh, we can read so much into this!! It's just like that worn over "pro multis" debate: 'God didn't come with that hippy inclusive language. He came with law and hard teachings. The Church is a special club and only certain people can make it.' Well, maybe. To echo the Academy Award-winning film There Will be Blood, "The doctrine of universal salvation is a lie, a lie!..."

Indulge me with another highlight, this time from the 12th Sun in OT. The 1997 version says "Lord God, teach us to hold your holy name both in awe and in lasting affection..." 2008 goes like this: "Grant us, O Lord, fear and love of your holy name always and in equal measure..." Key words that pop out , for me, are "teach" vs. "grant," "fear" vs. "awe," and "affection" vs. "equal measure."

My guesses on each... "Teach" is an everyday word that any English speaker comprehends quite quickly. "Grant" sounds legalistic or even archaic, to put it negatively...maybe 'formal' is a less derogatory description. I am trying to imagine, "Mom, prithee grant unto me thy blessings such that I may take the car for the evening." Who talks like that? Should the language of the Liturgy be the language of everyday (vis-a-vis meaningful and comprehensible)? Perhaps the broader question is, what kind of God do we have and how ought we approach him? "Does God wait to smite us with his divinely jeweled orb and sceptre?" or is he our "friend"? Maybe both, perhaps? If so, how do we strike a balance?

"Fear vs. awe:" Like "Fear of the Lord" disappearing from some Cathechetical texts, this is another one that draws the battle lines. Screams the Trad: "People these days need to be reminded that everything we have comes from God! We would cease to breathe if he forgot us for an instant! We can die at any second! Did I mention how terrible Hell is and that real people you and I know will probably go there?" Anyone ready for 1950's style sexual repression, depression, closet alcoholism, and abuse? An authoritarian culture of fear? Well, purely correlated, purely correlated. Then Sr. Starbeam butts in: "You stupid people and your fixation on fear. God loves all and forgives all- I'm okay, you're okay, God too. We care way too much about these old fashioned legalistic concepts of God and the Church. God is a woman and a beautiful one. We should be in awe of her feminine mystique. Fear? The only thing you should fear is me and my improvised liturgy!"

As for "affection" vs. "equal measure"...Huh? How do they even come up with this stuff?! Don't tempt me to start stereotypes about clergy, loony Latinists, and intimacy hangups. Ever read Song of Songs? God loves the Church in a visceral way, to put it mildly. These were earthy Mediterraneans writing- they knew how to be blunt and have fun. I guess I gave away my preference on this one.

Okay, I digress, massively! One of my Latin professors, a weathered classicist with more books in dead languages than the Library of Congress, once relayed this relevant story to our class: "As we were translating passages one day I had three students with three rather distinct renditions of one line. We heard them all and then one girl, sitting in the very back row, right in there" (he pointed to the very same seat), "asked, 'But, Dr. W-, what is the correct translation?' And then I just laughed." Why? **Disclaimer: This answer may cause some folks' skin to crawl**: there isn't one! Yes, I know, this seems to reek of "moral" relativism. But think, if you've ever studied a language you know this is absolutely true. And what about Babel? Don't we believe as a matter of Faith that language and communication hurdles are just one of many consequences of sin?

So, the point to all my ramblings: chasing the perfect/correct translation is chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. We'll never get it. To me this seems almost common sense but I am always surprised by what I find out there! To be clear, I acknowledge that a translation may be correct insofar as it is 'officially' endorsed or prescribed by the Vatican. I cannot, however, believe or even take seriously someone who thinks any given translation is unquestionable. There are too many factors to consider and none can accommodate them all: formality, accessibility, intelligibility, rhythm, ...even length, to name a few (how dryly pragmatic)!

Rather than the 'correct' translation we ought to seek the 'best' translation- and even that presupposes expectations built on a consensus. I hope and pray that the USCCB can agree on some concrete parameters which will guides its suggested revisions. Otherwise we're back with the same problem... And whatever they eventually agree upon I'm okay- even if I can't reconcile it with my ideology and preference. That's hard to swallow. When we say something is "correct" I suspect we often mean that it is merely congruent with our strongly held convictions or preferences- which is nice if it happens, incidentally. Either way, I trust the Bishops of this Country to make a choice that anyone can respect. If I don't like it I'm not going to go off and switch Rites or found the SSPX.

And then, some day, getting the ICEL and Vatican to validate it all? That mountain is safely in the distance, for now.

POEA- Emphasis on the 'A'

Pipe Organ Encounter Advanced. This was only the most recent inspiring event of my musical summer.

Some years ago the American Guild of Organists began camps for kids interested in the organ. Aptly named "Pipe Organ Encounters," (POE) they were wildly successful. However, problems developed. Many of the same students attended multiple times and, to put it mildly, were not exactly beginners anymore!

Thus, the AGO created the accelerated version. The Lincoln, Nebraska Chapter won the bid to host this first ever POEA and it was off to the races on 6 July.

Disarmingly talented high school students sent in audition recordings and ultimately 18 were selected to attend the week-long intensive. An all-star faculty was on hand to give private lessons and master classes... James David Christie, George Ritchie, Pamela Ruiter-Feensta, and Todd Wilson to name a few. The faculty recitals were quite a treat!

Volunteering bits of time in my scattered schedule to supervise, drive, etc., I tagged along on visits to some exciting instruments and events. Known for his outstanding craftsmanship and fidelity to significant historical trends in organ building, Gene Bedient gave tours of his shop and a lecture on tuning systems/temperaments. http://www.bedientorgan.com/

We spent one afternoon in Omaha, Nebraska visiting the Pasi organ of St. Cecilia's Cathedral. This instrument and space deserves an entire post of its own! After basking in its luxurious sounds and the outstanding scholarship and wisdom of Dr. George Ritchie in his masterclass, we spent the evening with a residential Kimball Theatre Organ that will blow your socks off.

Joel Martinson, a Dallas-based composer of organ and choral literature, gave a useful talk about trends in the musical profession regarding employment, composition, etc. The lesson here: self-publish if you can make it! The big houses are struggling to keep up and will drag you into their vortex if you sign your soul (or your rights) over in the end. It's bad news all around: Production costs are increasing; The internet makes things instantly available; They're taxed on their inventories (which are massive!); etc. And Mr. Martinson knows...he's in with Oxford University Press, Concordia, Morningstar, and Selah to name a few. http://www.joelmartinson.com/

Only two things went wrong, as far as I can tell: Paul Jacobs of Julliard had to drop out at the last second and the water didn't work in the dorms the first morning. The local paper, the Lincoln Journal Star, had a nice, if not rather hidden (back of the Saturday Religion section), article on the camp: http://journalstar.com/articles/2008/07/12/living/religion/doc4877d93cba41f294169917.txt

The absolute apexes of the week, however, were the student recitals at its conclusion. On Friday the 18 participants showcased pieces they had polished throughout the week in two recitals- the first on a new Reuter at First Presbyterian in Lincoln (see picture above) and the second on a fine Bedient at St. Paul United Methodist. As I was listening I often thought, "I can handle some of this stuff..." But then I kept remembering that these performers are 5 or 6 years younger than I! And regardless of age or training much of the music is just downright tricky...for anyone- Duruflé, Calvin Hampton, Reger, Langlais, major Bach preludes and fugues, one memorized JSB Trio Sonata movement, and much more!

As the students departed for home and other organ camps around the US, it dawned on me that they will be at the absolute forefront of our profession in forthcoming years. Their zeal, talent, and dedication stands to rocket them into the spotlight!

So...they gear up for more high school, and then, soon enough Julliard, Curtis, Oberlin, or Indiana. Me? Practice, practice, practice!

Shameless Propaganda

Well...after this gaping silence my two month hiatus must end. Now comes the time to resume writing! School is hiding somewhere in August and this summer has positively been an "Organ Spectacular."

A couple important facts:

1. The American Guild of Organists (AGO) has designated this next year as the "International Year of the Organ." The commemoration officially began at the National Convention which took place 22-26 June in Minneapolis-St Paul, Minnesota. The celebration will last until next summer. Countless people have arranged and engaged great scads of publicity, energy, and money to ensure that this instrument has high visibility in forthcoming months.

2. The organ is the greatest instrument- (besides the human voice)! Regardless of personal taste, it is simply impossible to disavow the magnitude of its greatness. Even those who don't like the thing can acknowledge its remarkable and unique status... as Stravinsky griped: "the monster never breathes!" Indeed, it is a breathless wind instrument.

As a keyboard instrument it covers more dynamic range than any other. With regard to timbre it is only matched by the orchestra- which is in itself many instruments. As far as power is concerned it can even swallow the orchestra if it wants. How about the greatest marriage of science and art ever? One can only marvel at the centuries of painstaking developments- a trio of fine artisan craftsmanship, the exquisite laws of physics, and the ceaseless driving quest for beauty. Given its complexity and considering when it arrived on the scene (as we know it) a few centuries ago we might even say that this is one of the greatest technological achievements ever. (If no one believes this then he/she ought to spend a little time inside an organ case)!

And repertoire? It has more music written for it than any other single instrument... spanning nearly 700 years of Western culture, reflecting its history accordingly in a rich diversity of styles. And, in the last century this icon of the West began to incorporate influences from around the world. If economic globalization was a recent phenomenon stemming from our instant communication mechanisms then musical "globalization," we might say, began in the progressive musical minds of people like Debussy, Charles Ives, Messiaen, and Duruflé- years ago. Bewitched by wonderful sounds from new places and ancient times composers such as these concocted compelling and delectable musical sounds that changed our world- and much for of it for the organ.

I must confess that only a few short months ago I was feeling rather phlegmatic about all this. However, a few things have ignited the fire. Namely: a fantastic European organ tour, the AGO National Convention last month, and the first ever Pipe Organ Encounter Advanced this last week. It was at this POEA that, as a part time volunteer, I had the unique privilege of meeting and interacting with some of the most prodigious young organists in the US. If I worried before I certainly now have no doubt that the organ has splendid future in store.

I am transfixed by the exceptional talent and zeal of all these other young organists. Hope abounds when I know that the organ captivates people with its depth and breadth- its timelessness. Whether inspired to play saccharine devotional music that would make the most pious person weep- or flashy Demessieux Etudes- or Calvin Hampton dances- or the golden Bach standards, there is room for almost everything and everyone at the organ bench. Considering all this I feel quite comfortable suggesting that many people would heartily echo Mozart's famous words spoken in October, 1777: "In my eyes and ears the organ is the king of instruments."

(Highlights and reflections on my travels and encounters are forthcoming).

Ecclesiastical Phishing

School controls most of my life at the moment. However, they can't keep me down forever- it's time to write.

Last week an official from the University Credit Union came to give a talk to my Fraternity about financial scamming. We learned we shouldn't write our pin-number on the back of the credit card. He also informed us that it is dangerous to approve large withdrawals from our accounts when initiated by people in Singapore whom we have never heard of. Overall, I enjoyed that good old-fashioned thread of common sense which ran through most of the talk. It lent a nice sense of continuity.

More than anything, however, I loved the talk about phishing. When I was 10 some paternal relatives and I hiked for an afternoon up into the Absaroka Range. At some little glacial lake near the convergence of Wyoming, Montana, and the sky we caught foot-long brook trout on every cast. It was marvelous...as is robbing people through cleverness. Indeed, the unethical and immoral homonym of my summer vacation activities captured my curiosity as we discussed last Monday evening.

We know that natural selection is hard at work when we encounter something like this- oh, the brilliance of it! I like Wikipedia's key phrase: "masquerading as a trustworthy entity." I can imagine the email now: "Hello John Doe, My name is Dave. I am with your bank. We want to send you a quarterly statement but for some reason we lost your name, Social Security Number, and account number. Please give us that crap so we can get our work done. Love, Dave." And people will supply!

But then a thought entered my head: "What if this trick was taken to a whole new level? What is people outside of cyberspace started exploiting the ignorance of the sincerely curious? What if it happened...in the Church?" And then I realized it does- all the time!

Intelligent people, no matter where they lie on the ideological spectrum, know that the one who controls the education and flow of information has immense power- perhaps more than anyone. There will always be a noble, even enthusiastic, few who are willing to step up to bat and be that underpaid teacher. But outside the classroom, where no degree is required (and likewise no accountability) and the wages altogether non-existent (but immense social renumeration waiting in the grab bag) it is very much the opposite of that Gospel parable- the harvest is small and laborers many. Yes, idiots and ideologues abound and everyone swears they've got the "real" story.

The little angel pictured above is named "Kitschy." He puts all human concepts of reproduction to shame for he has approximately 18,687 identical twins in parishes across the USA. No insane amount of fertility drugs could ever reproduce this reproduction. No, this takes the good old fashioned zeal of ethnic piety. (My gr-gr grandmother Anna Petrzelkova Egrova funded one of the twins). Anyway, Kitschy has a message for you: "I am the model for Catholic Art." Of course, there are many people sincerely asking that question. "What art is appropriate for Church?" "What music can go in the liturgy?" etc. And Kitschy and his confrères seem altogether too happy to play the prof and supply the definitive answers.

Take this to the next level. Take a bunch of truth, mix in a little crap, and...voila- heresy! It is terribly effective because people who ask questions are generally open to answers (to varying degrees depending on the place and time). When most Catholics can't name the 10 Commandments, much less the 7 Sacraments we know it can only be disastrous when folks pose questions like: "What language should the Mass be?" "How powerful is Mary?" "You mean my sister's ordination wasn't valid?" etc. Pick your extreme and there is, at worst, a heretic eager to answer- with devastatingly misleading poppycock. In most cases you'll probably just get some really confident, yet hopelessly unbalanced, apostle of (fill in the blank with fringe devotion of choice). I always have loved the Roman Church because there is something for everyone. It is a vast space in which to swim around (though it is still finite) and occasionally hang out in a little corner (for we all have gifts and talents, unique ways to be stewards). That's alright until I think everyone else should be clustered right where I am (read: checking Mary's message at Medjugorje like clockwork).

It seems that we should pick our battles. There are a few core teachings and if we 'cry wolf' every day we will run out of steam and be dead in the water when the real battle comes. Yeah, Kitschy will do, but he is hardly a well thought artistic contribution to Church decoration. He's still not the model and if anyone claims this I will dig my heels in. That kind of talk takes things to a whole new level. Likewise, when the SSPX priest tells you Vatican II was a farce and John XXIII was an anti-pope, they've hopped out of the pool. When someone says you should pray your daily Rosary because such-and-such Saint said it is 'the gold coin by which we buy our way into heaven' certainly don't let any Protestants hear. When another says, "Hi, I'm with the Catholic Church and Mary is co-Redemptrix," just be wary. (When even JPII didn't approve that I get suspicious. And he was as devoted to Mary as anyone. Heck, he had his Marian crest branded on his coffin!)

And don't give them your credit card number either.

More Loyola pics!

Chrysler Building anyone? Actually, it's Mundelein Hall!















It was very cold. Here is the chapel from the rear. In front sits Lake Michigan.















Decorative railing















Altar too















The Tabernacle















A Station















Processional Cross















Lots of lines















It's a lake

Madonna della Strada- on the way to Art Deco

"Madonna of the Way." I think this reminds us well that Christian living is a ceaseless journey. Maybe this also suggests to us the nature of healthy Marian Theology- it's going toward Christ. The focus belongs on Him (read: overt Marian theology creeps me out). I happened upon an article in the online Loyola Magazine that exemplifies what I believe is this true spirit of Catholic journey, inquiry, and progress (see link below). It speaks of the Cassaretto family. To summarize: A bright, young Frank Cassaretto attends Northwestern in the late-1920's. He believes that science and religion are not only compatible but inseparable (remarkably progressive considering this is decades before "Fides et Ratio!") When his chemistry professor suggested that by class's end there would be no room for God Frank left and headed straight down to Loyola. His family hasn't left since- and they've made quite the name for themselves it seems. This was all very interesting to me for several reasons: I've been having quite a few discussions about the apparent contradictions between faith and science lately; I think it's refreshing that there are people who will stand up and proudly say they found faith at a Jesuit school; and...I think the Cassaretto's helped build a damned good chapel! http://www.luc.edu/loyolamagazine/summer07/FamilyTies.html

Despite the raging Depression Professor Cassaretto helped raised money and his wife even pitched in the bridge club winnings. These contributions and many others from generous and dedicated women and men of faith culminated in the 1938 completion and 1939 dedication Loyola-Chicago's "Madonna della Strada" chapel- campus chapel to this day.

Madonna della Strada, designed by Chicago architect Andrew Rebori, stands as one of the finest examples of Art Deco in Catholic Chicagoland- at least among churches. (Next door, Mundelein Hall features some sculpted angels flanking the doorway that look like they came straight off the Chrysler Building!) However, it has been a long time in the making. Though the structure was remarkably completed in the midst of the Great Depression it wasn't until 1948 that the interior walls could even be plastered. In truth, the interior was never quite completed- until now. An interior renovation/completion project which began in 2004 has nearly ended. In January I had the privilege of experiencing this new space. My friends were initially struck by the relative simplicity of the room- which I expected. Many people display a predilection for the 'busy' decorative scheme, a kind of 'gothic' prejudice in Church design. This is no such animal. But neither is it the barren, so-called 'neo-iconoclasm' that so many people fear in churches today. (It's Art Deco!) Where there are images, and there are plenty, they are in rich and vivid color, stylized figures with clean lines, clearly respecting the Art Deco theme. It is a bright sanctuary- the walls are white and ample natural light flows in through a number of windows. This clarity only heightens the impact of the rich iconic material. The fresco behind the altar as well as the Stations of the Cross, both with gold-leaf, are the work of Turkish-born iconographer Meltem Aktas.

The liturgical furnishings are absolutely stunning. The altar, ambo, and decorative railing, fashioned out of iron and marble, form an elegant and cohesive visual statement. I especially like the floor in Madonna della Strada. The picture above shows what's going on here. Gray tile from a 1982 renovation was removed and replaced with Italian marble of several varieties. The marble is arranged such that it forms inlaid sleek-lined designs which add remarkable richness to the room. The floor patterns in the main aisle point processionally from the baptismal font to the altar- symbolic of our Christian journey, and the name of the chapel itself.
One other thing that many people notice straightaway are the chairs. This church has no pews...which seems to be an increasing trend in Churches today. Personally, I think pews are a bit overrated- "medieval torture devices" someone cynically called them once. But this is a bit anachronistic! Pews are a relatively new and Protestant innovation appearing initially around Reformation times. (This doesn't make them bad, just the discomfort)! My saintly LCMS neighbors once told me, rather shocked, that the European cathedral they visited had not a single pew- all wicker chairs! I chuckled discretely in accord with my ethnocentrism. The fact didn't surprise me. Church chairs in the old world are as much a Catholic tradition as booze. So, I suppose, the seating arrangement in Madonna della Strada comes with good precedent.

Also a big part of the Catholic tradition, at least nominally...in some places...is music. Madonna della Strada, with its plaster walls, barrel-vaulted ceiling, and polished marble floor has the wettest acoustic I've ever encountered in a church of its size (which is relatively small, surprisingly). It seems the S.J. powers-that-be spared no expense in this renovation. I was, however, a little skeptical when it came to the music part, only because the Jesuits haven't been known for their love of the organ in the last few decades. I was, accordingly, delighted to find that they've commissioned an instrument for Madonna della Strada which will make a sonic statement rivaling the room's visual eloquence in excellence. This coming summer Goulding & Wood of Indianapolis will install its Opus 47- a 3-manual, 70-rank instrument which takes its tonal inspiration straight out of 19th-century France. They have specifications on their website: http://www.gouldingandwood.com/main.htm. This will sound positively brilliant- and be worth every dime of the mint it surely cost. I think this is cause for a return visit! The installation of the organ will mark the last phase of the renovation. If Mr. Cassaretto were alive, I think he'd be happy to see the Chapel in its full splendor. And the sound of that instrument...I think it could bring anyone to God, chemists at Northwestern included.

This chapel has always been the preeminent visual reminder of God's presence at Loyola. Now, after a just renovation long deserved, Madonna della Strada can again fulfill its full purpose- It is grand house of God and a fitting sanctuary for his people. See their website for more: http://www.luc.edu/loyolamagazine/fall07/Feat_MadonnaDellaStr.html

Cathedral of the Holy Name- Chicago

A couple of months ago I was introduced to Dr. Ricardo Ramirez, music director and organist of Holy Name Cathedral, by a mutual friend at a concert. Dr. Ramirez is a wonderful man and a talented musician with quite the resume. In addition to his D.M.A. he holds a grad degree in electrical engineering. Not many organists can boast that kind of versatility! (Well, Naji Hakim). If I recall correctly he did some collaborative work with a dance troupe as well! In any case, I took him up on an offer to visit the organ. His secretary called, responding to my message, while we were at SS. Faith, Hope and Charity to say Dr. Ramirez could show me to the organ at 1pm. It was 12:40 and I was in Winnetka. "That's great," I said, and without a moment's delay we hopped in the car and headed down the Kennedy. People were returning from lunch so traffic was a bit hectic. I hopped out a few blocks up State Street and ran down to the Cathedral- only five minutes late. But alas, he was not there. I was a little upset with myself but the docent sent me around the block to the rectory. And there he was.

Dr. Ramirez took me up to the gallery which is, understandably, under lock and key. I'm always amazed how often small Catholic churches in tiny towns with small "toasters" for organs have both the loft and the console locked. In this case it seems pretty defensible- considering how many people (of all types) wander in and out of the Cathedral and considering what's on the other side of the door.

In the gallery, of course, is the largest Flentrop in the US. It also happens to be the largest mechanical-action organ in Chicago-land. A projected conceived by then-music director Richard Proulx, it was built in 1989 at the Flentrop workshop in Zaandam, Holland and generously funded by Alice O'Malley Robinson as a memorial for her husband. Pictures, as usual, don't quite do it justice. Visually I think it looks quite striking in the room, which itself has been tastefully and sensitively renovated. (A great example of how styles can be blended!) The organ is absolutely huge- physically and sonically, coming in at 117-ranks. And recordings don't do it justice either, mostly because there aren't any. Dr. Ramirez explained that there are no recordings of this superb instrument because for the longest time the acoustics didn't do it justice. I had to agree. I went to Mass at Holy Name over four years ago and recall the sound of the room was awfully stifled. However, much has changed. The entire floor has been redone- no more carpet, all terrazzo- hooray! I'm guessing this will usher in a new era wherein the world may soon be able to encounter something of this instrument's amazing sound. They have quite the choir too!

But, there is no better way to know an instrument than to play it. And play it I did! (Not so much as I would have liked). There were ongoing First Friday devotions in the Eucharistic Chapel so I was limited to smaller combinations or more delicate sounds. Nevertheless it was quite amazing. Ricardo gave me a brief demonstration. Some interesting highlights: certain chorus reed stops can be turned so that they are controlled by a pedal lever. Though they aren't on separate chests they act "effectively as ventil levers." This certainly comes in handy with French Romantic literature. Also, on the swell sits one of the finest voiced 1' flutes anyone will encounter. It's not at all shrill, not like olden-times Reuter upper-work- this positively glistens. Ricardo played a little Messiaen excerpt to show off the stop. Though there is no mechanical assistance he said it is never terribly heavy. A four manual tracker looks quite formidable! And speaking of which, glancing at the console you think you're looking at a giant 17th Century North-German instrument. Not so- this has all kinds of reeds, foundations, and mutations. And some of the voicing seems downright warm. In noodling around for a bit I found that the flutes have a fairly rich sound- and the celeste is hardly anemic. I expressed my surprise and Ricardo concurred, "there's nothing you can't play on it."

...Which brings me to the one downside- there are absolutely no combinations. So, the stops are all there (and they are quite large and pull out about 2 feet) but without a diligent assistant or eight arms it would be a bit difficult to play...oh...let's say Howells. But all reservations aside it's something positively amazing to behold. I understand every instrument has its limitations. As my old organ professor once said, "every time you choose one thing you necessarily loose another, in getting something new you loose something that was before." In this case it seems that the choice for the unmatched connection and control that mechanical action provides (especially for this size of instrument!) precluded the option of combinations.

The Holy Name Flentrop, like all good church organs, supports both the liturgy and the great solo literature. For more immediate sound at the front of the sanctuary Holy Name has an additional instrument. This choir organ, a 1981 Casavant (revoiced by Martin Ott in the later '80s), sits up on the south side of the sanctuary behind the ambo. Unfortunately I didn't get to hear that one. But this is just one more reason to return! The AGO has an excellent website from a 2006 convention which contains information, specs, and multiple pictures of the Cathedral organs. Check it out at
http://www.agohq.org/2006/html/venues/venues3/HolyNameCathedral.pdf