Anybody who says I'm not is a liar. Here's the thing.
I'm Peter Shickley, and this is Shickley Mix, a program dedicated to the proposition that all musics are created equal.
Or as Duke Ellington put it, if it sounds good, it is good.
And let me tell you, it's good to know that our bills are being paid by the American Public Radio Program Fund,
whose contributors include the Ford Foundation, by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and also by this upstanding station right here on your radio dial.
Today's program is called Varieties of Organic Experience.
The title refers not to different vegetables in a healthy garden, nor to notches on the holistic pistol of life,
but rather to the alleged king of instruments, the organ.
Or, I guess in these politically correct days, we should say the ruler of instruments.
But that sounds like a good idea.
Something they use at Steinway to see if it's a seven-foot grand or a nine-foot grand.
Emperor of instruments is sort of hard to say. Czar of instruments. Pope of instruments has obvious problems. How about top dog of instruments? Or maybe the CEO of instruments.
Well, it's probably beside the point anyway. The synthesizer may have usurped whatever title we come up with. After all, the synthesizer... Okay. Okay.
I'm not even going to answer it.
Okay. Can the calls, folks?
I wasn't really serious.
Everybody knows that nothing could ever take the place of the mogul of instruments.
Boy, organists are...
Well, they're a breed apart.
I studied composition at Juilliard with Vincent Persichetti, who was an organist as well as a composer.
And he said to me once, You know, Peter, organists and librarians don't sweat.
There is something a bit alien about it.
I said, I've never heard of organists.
But nice and very proficient. No other instrument engages as much of your body when you play it as does an organ with pedals. Well, I guess a one-man band.
But a one-man band is to a large pipe organ what a sideshow is to the circus.
And believe me, a large pipe organ is a three-ring circus.
It consists of several keyboards, including a pedal keyboard, hooked up to hundreds of pipes capable of producing a great variety of timbres
or tone colors. You select the timbre you want by pushing tabs and buttons or
pulling plungers, they're called stops, that are situated above, beneath, and
beside the keyboards. You can mix different kinds of pipes to get combination timbres and you can couple pipes in such a way that any note you
play will be accompanied by the same note an octave above or an octave below or two octaves above or two octaves below. On a big organ you can set up a
registration that will enable you by pushing one single key on one keyboard
to produce an ear splitting sound whose notes encompass the entire range of the
piano keyboard. And talk about power. No wonder organists are a bit out there.
It's bound to go to your head. Now of course we're talking about traditional pipe organs here. There are many kinds of organs in the musical body and we're
going to take a look at this one.
to hear several of them on today's program starting right now varieties of organic experience
one has three numbers and i'll be back in about ten and a half minutes
you express would you know we're riding on the marrakesh express they're taking me to marrakesh
money just to take you there i smell the garden in your head
charming cobras in the square strike your levels right crazy would you know we're riding on the marrakesh express
you know we're riding on the marrakesh express
Varieties of organic experience, one. We began with a movement from a concerto by Handel, the concerto in D minor, opus 7, number 4,
the first movement, that fantastic somber sonority of divided bassoons and cellos. By the way, you know, that whole concerto, let me just take a look here,
that whole concerto lasts 16 minutes, about. And, you know, if you think symphony orchestra concerts are long now, they are nothing compared to what they were a couple centuries ago.
Handel wrote his organ concertos to be played between acts of his oratorios. Gives you an idea of how long they went on.
Then we had Crosby, Stills & Nash, Marrakesh Express, and, of course, that was a little electric organ with a sort of an oboe, a Near Eastern oboe sound. And an electric organ of that kind,
the tones are actually electrically generated. It's really a completely different, different thing from the kind of organ we were talking about before. But they're still grouped together because the music sounds similar. They sustain notes.
They can change quality as if they had stops, the same way as a regular pipe organ. Then we had from an album called Here's Bubbles,
Cabaret, played by Marilyn Bubbles-Libbon on the mighty Wurlitzer Theatre Organ at Cincinnati's Emory Theatre, where, at the time this recording was made, she'd been having a lot of fun.
She'd been doing a wide-open love affair with that organ for the past two years. And a theatre organ is just a big pipe organ, but all the connections are electric in the first place. There's a lot of vibrato.
And then also it usually has a lot of percussion stuff hooked up to it. Drums, bells, even sound effects sometimes, like car horn, police whistle. Now, if you listen to that carefully,
you'll notice that the drum type effects, the snare drum, there was a tambourine in there. Now, if you have an orchestra, and you have somebody playing tambourine, they might go... They do a particular rhythm that may not be the same as the melody.
But if you listen to that, you'll find that the tambourine does the same rhythm as the melody. Why? Because the tambourine is simply hooked up to that keyboard. And every time that the player plays a note,
in addition to the actual pitch, the note of the melody, you also get the tambourine. So the percussion parts on a theatre organ are very much related to the melody parts.
Or they can be hooked up to a... to a pedal. So you get a bass drum going boom, boom, boom, every time you play a bass note with the pedal.
My mother is old enough to have played organ for silent movies in the 20s. She played piano. She was not primarily an organist. But once in a while, somebody would get sick,
and she would get called in to play for silent movies. And she remembers one incident. Of course, you never got to see the movie first. And she was playing, and she didn't know the organ well. She was sort of...
grabbing for stops and hoping that things would turn out okay. And looking up at the screen, and there was this love scene going on. And as the man and woman, as their lips got closer and closer together, just at the moment of the kiss,
she reached for a stop and played a note, and it turned out to be the bass drum and cymbal stop. The humor was unappreciated by the theatre manager. I'm her son, Peter Shickley.
The show is Shickley Mix on APR. The pipe organ is a wind instrument, some of the pipes have reeds, as oboes do,
and some have fipples, as recorders do, but they're all activated by wind. One of the reasons you see so many kids hanging out on the street these days with nothing but time on their hands
is because the harnessing of electricity has made it unnecessary to have someone pumping the bellows while an organ is being played. Every time old Johann Sebastian Bach sat down to play the organ,
somebody was back there pumping air. Often it was a schoolboy, but not always. I recently saw an old print, an old engraving, showing an organist and his wife. He was playing a small organ, and guess what?
She was in back of it working the bellows. Figures, right? Behind every great organ. Actually, the young J.S. Bach got into trouble once for having a woman in church with him late at night,
and she might not have been working the bellows, but he ended up marrying her, so I guess it was okay. I mentioned studying with Persichetti. When I got married, his wife took my wife aside and gave her a bit of advice.
Never learn how to copy music. My daughter has made a point of never learning how to type. Well, electricity freed people from having to work the organ bellows,
and soon it'll free them from having to write down music and words. The computer is ready and willing to take over. In the case of organ bellows,
there was an ingenious alternative before electricity. Water. Either by having pressure supplied hydraulically through the use of gravity,
or by having a fan hooked up to a water wheel outside the church. Pretty nifty, huh? As they say in the Navy, where there's a will, there's anchors away.
Okay, here comes Varieties of Organic Experience II. The first number features a full-blooded 19th century church organ. The second uses the modern small electric organ.
And the last piece is a song accompanied by one of the most, most modest forms of the organ, the harmonium, in which the bellows are worked by the player's knees or feet. See you in about 12 and a half minutes.
¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶ ¶¶
¶¶ ¶¶ that terminology, but he wrote large pieces in symphonic form and called them symphonies,
even though they're for organ alone. The symphony orchestra was the instrument of the 19th century, and it's particularly fitting that he should write a symphony for organ, because
organ makers in the 19th century tried to build organs that imitated symphony orchestras, tried to make them sound as much like orchestras and orchestral instruments as possible. That
staccato is a real rabble-rouser. Also, some of those arpeggios, those broken-up chords,
sound an awful lot to me, like Philip Glass. Who was the composer of the next item in this suite?
Philip Glass from the album North Star, which is music he wrote for a movie about a sculptor,
and this was called Ange des Orages, which I believe means Angel of the Storms. I assume that's the name of one of the sculptors.
Probably. And it certainly has a twisting, wind-blown sound that makes you wonder if it isn't something that revolves. I don't know. But the interesting thing about Philip
Glass here is I ran into him at a performance of his opera about Gandhi, whose title I can never pronounce, and it was one of his, I believe, one of his first orchestra pieces.
He'd written very much for his own group, which consisted, as in this recording, of mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, mostly, of organ, and a couple of saxophone sounds, perhaps, and some singing. I forgot to mention,
in this one, we hear Farfisa, Yamaha, and Hammond organs, maybe Fender Rhodes' piano, although I'm not sure he used it in that cut. And he loved the sound of the little
rock and roll organs that were developed during the 60s. I used to be in a band that had one of those Farfisa organs, too. I loved that sound. And during the period when the music
establishment was completely turning its back on Philip Glass's music and not having anything to do with him, he had his own group to perform his own music, and people in the
group liked that music and performed it well. And when I ran into him at this performance of the Gandhi opera, where there was a regular orchestra in the pit, he said, you know, all
during the 19th century, they were building organs, trying to make them imitate orchestras. Well, I'm trying to write for orchestras so that it sounds... Sounds like organs. And he succeeded in doing that. And then the last one was John Sebastian's
song, The Room Nobody Lives In, from his album John B. Sebastian. And that was John accompanying himself on the harmonium. And there was, I think, also a string bass in there, doubling
the bass line. Yes, it was played by Ray Neapolitan. I'm Peter Shickley. The program is Shickley Mix on APR.
I'm Peter Shickley, and this is John Sebastian, and this is John Sebastian, and I'm Peter Shickley.
And you usually have to settle for one sonority and one dynamic level, usually very, very loud. Otherwise, it's a great instrument. As I said, it was invented, according to the
usual suspects, in the 19th century. But my discovery of the manuscript of P.D.Q. Bach's Toot Suite in C minor for Calliope Four Hands means that Grove's dictionary and everyone
else are almost certainly wrong, since P.D.Q. lived only seven years into the 19th century. It's tidbit time, and we will now hear the Fuga Vulgaris from P.D.Q. Bach's Toot Suite
for Calliope Four Hands, played on an indoor chamber calliope by the great four-handed organist, Emanuel Peddle.
Here we go.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ・erves.
Thank you.
Try shutting your eyes during the middle one.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
That's Schickely Mix for this week. Our program is made possible with funds provided by the American Public Radio Program Fund, whose contributors include the Ford Foundation, by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting,
and also by this radio station and its members. Thank you, members. We'll tell you in a moment how you can get an official playlist of all the music on today's program
with record numbers and everything. Just refer to the program number. This is program number 40. And this is Peter Schickely saying goodbye and reminding you that it don't mean a thing
if it ain't got that certain je ne sais quoi. You're looking good. See you next week.
© BF-WATCH TV 2021