PipeChat Digest #4568 - Monday, June 21, 2004 Re: Organ teachers near Concord, NH by "Jan Nijhuis" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic by "Richard Huggins" <email@example.com> Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic by "Raymond H. Clark, Quilisma Publications" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic by "Alan Freed" <email@example.com> Speaking of Funerals [x-posted] by "Charlie Lester" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Re: Speaking of Funerals by "Travis L. Evans" <email@example.com> Decoration Day (was Ray Charles' Funeral) by "Alicia Zeilenga" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Re: Decoration Day (was Ray Charles' Funeral) by <DERREINETOR@aol.com> WNC by "Jon Humbert" <email@example.com> Re: WNC by "Mike Gettelman" <firstname.lastname@example.org>
(back) Subject: Re: Organ teachers near Concord, NH From: "Jan Nijhuis" <email@example.com> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 17:08:32 +0800 Suggestion that may get your student linked-up. Contact Jan Bordeleau at = Piano Arts in Hooksett. http://www.pianoarts.com/ If she cannot provide = lessons herself, she should know of an organ teacher in the area. FYI Her mother was my first piano teacher, her brother Paul was our tuner = in New Hampshire. ----- Original Message ----- > Hi everyone, > > One of my high school organ students will be attending Magdalen College > in New Hampshire in the fall and would like to continue organ lessons > (not offered at Magdalen). I'm looking for ideas on good organ > teachers in the Concord, New Hampshire area. Any farther away will > probably not work. Suggestions will be much appreciated. > > Steve Best in Utica, NY -- Jan Nijhuis firstname.lastname@example.org -- ___________________________________________________________ Sign-up for Ads Free at Mail.com http://promo.mail.com/adsfreejump.htm
(back) Subject: Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic From: "Richard Huggins" <email@example.com> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 12:59:30 -0500 > Each region of the country, and each ethnic sub-group, has its own = "quirks" > when it comes to death and mourning. In 1970, in my first church job after college and in a small east = Tennessee town, the church janitor died. He was white and poor. The funeral was held in the home, and I understand there's quite a bit of tradition regarding that practice as well. I wonder if it's seen much anymore in (particularly but not exclusively) the country south? Working in that area also gave me my first exposure to the term = "Decoration Day" for Memorial Day. I'd never heard that term in the southwest. It was quite an event for at least the rural communities. --Richard
(back) Subject: Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic From: "Raymond H. Clark, Quilisma Publications" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 11:14:43 -0700 I think it was "Decoration Day" originally ... the graves of Confederate (and later Union?) soldiers were decorated by their widows and sweethearts. Later it was extended to the dead of WWI; at some point along the line it became "Memorial Day." So you WOULD have heard Southerners still call it by the old name. I think my grandmother still did. Cheers, Bud Richard Huggins wrote: >>Each region of the country, and each ethnic sub-group, has its own = "quirks" >>when it comes to death and mourning. > > > In 1970, in my first church job after college and in a small east = Tennessee > town, the church janitor died. He was white and poor. The funeral was = held > in the home, and I understand there's quite a bit of tradition regarding > that practice as well. I wonder if it's seen much anymore in = (particularly > but not exclusively) the country south? > > Working in that area also gave me my first exposure to the term = "Decoration > Day" for Memorial Day. I'd never heard that term in the southwest. It = was > quite an event for at least the rural communities. > > --Richard > > "Pipe Up and Be Heard!" > PipeChat: A discussion List for pipe/digital organs & related topics > HOMEPAGE : http://www.pipechat.org > List: mailto:email@example.com > Administration: mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org > Subscribe/Unsubscribe: mailto:email@example.com > > >
(back) Subject: Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic From: "Alan Freed" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 14:36:42 -0400 On 6/20/04 2:14 PM, "Raymond H. Clark, Quilisma Publications" <email@example.com> wrote: > I think it was "Decoration Day" originally ... the graves of Confederate > (and later Union?) soldiers were decorated by their widows and > sweethearts. Later it was extended to the dead of WWI; at some point > along the line it became "Memorial Day." I'm hearing that it began in Waterloo, N.Y., in 1868. And the name was changed in 1881ish. But our family (who never lost anybody in any war) called it Decoration Day into the 1950s, even though my folks had been = born in 1905 and 1906. Northern states led the way on the date, but Southern states had the observance on a variety of May dates. Finally fixed and official by Pres. Nixon, I think. Alan
(back) Subject: Speaking of Funerals [x-posted] From: "Charlie Lester" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 15:04:00 -0700 .... reaching for my well-thumbed volume of funeral and weddling anecdotes ... =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= A few years ago, I played for a funeral at our church where the deceased was a young man who met an untimely and rather unsavory demise, allegedly at the hands of disgruntled drug addicts, or dealers, or something. There was quite a lot of whispered scandal around his "expiration." I arrived a half-hour or so early as is my custom. When I got there, I saw that the piano and organ had already been opened, and that there was an older lady seated at the piano "noodling." Well, "older" is a relative term. Can we talk: She was OLD. She looked like she had just stepped out of a vat of brine. She wore a big, ludicrously phony looking jet-black wig that appeared to have been made out of doll hair. The fearsome cracks in her withered, pruny cheeks were puttied in with enough rouge [and mortician's wax, probably] to last Tammy-Faye for a whole month! Completing her ghoulish ensemble were hideous-looking 3-inch-long fingernails. They were just bare nails, not painted or manicured in every way, and were quite disturbing to behold. She demurely stood and extended her hand, introducing herself as the organist from the mortuary. (Monty, that wasn't YOU in that black fright-wig, was it?!) She had come along to "help out." She said something along the line that she would conclude her services when I was ready to begin. Yeek. Whatever. I sanguinely smiled, deftly avoided the proffered handful of grotesque talons, and trotted off to the office. I needed to meet with the pastor and to get robed up, so I didn't give her another thought. Let her go ahead and play, what can it hurt? That was my first mistake... When I came out to begin the prelude, she was still seated at the piano. I nodded to indicate that I was ready to begin. She dodged the nod and kept playing. I sat at the organ and when she finally stopped and came up for air, I plunged in on the organ. Darned if she didn't start plunking right along with me on the piano! I was getting a tiny bit annoyed. It would have been nervy enough of her if she could really play. But all she was doing was "plinking and pecking" -- diddling out inane, discordant, arrhythmic improvisations and mismatched chords to the bizarre click-clack percussive accompaniment of her garish, overgrown fingernails. I got the brilliant idea to start playing stuff that I felt reasonably sure she would not know -- I blew the dust off my copy of "The Church Organist's Golden Treasury." Sure enough, she did not seem to know any of the selections. But that did not stop her from improvising along. Then, I played Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." I kid you not: She launched into an effusive counter-melody of "When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder." By now, steam was coming from my ears. If I had not been laughing so hard at her comical ministrations, I would have gotten into a blind rage by that point. The service began, with a soloist from my choir. He sang "How Great Thou Art," an arrangement we had worked up earlier. It was not "straight from the hymnal." But you guessed it ... Miss Prune-Face-Bad-Wig-Fingernails-from-hell chimed right in! At a bridge, I modulated from Bb to B, hoping it would throw her and she'd stop. Well, it threw her; that's for sure. But it certainly didn't stop her! She fumbled around trying to find the key and finally figured out we were in the key of ... F#. The next thing on the program was an opening invocation. During which, I crept around from the organ console to the piano and stood next to the bench, making it clear I wanted to sit there. She tried to ignore me, pretending to thumb through the hymnal and turning away from me. That was HER seat by cracky, and she wasn't about to surrender it! I finally leaned over and whispered, "I need to play the piano for the next soloist." She shot me a baleful look, her beady eyes peering out from under that lacquered, polyester wig --- and s-l-o-w-l-y, reluctantly, slid off the bench. She disappeared around the corner and I assumed she took a seat in the congregation. The next soloist on the program was another soloist from my choir. She was going to sing an arrangement of a well-known hymn. (Actually, it was our arrangement of an arrangement for choir.) Again, there were to be bridges, transitions, changes of key etc. Well, I began the introduction. Suddenly, an ear-splitting, banshee wail blasted forth RIGHT behind me and into my shocked ears. The electrifying impact was just as if I had been struck by lightning. I literally leapt to my feet with an audible report of my own -- and, in the process, sent the piano bench toppling over and my music flying every which-a-way. The issuance was from the deceased's wife who was suddenly seized in the grip of anguished grieving. (The family was seated on the first pew directly behind the piano, with my back to them so I could not see them.) Before that, the room had been fairly calm -- the usual sniffles and such. But she got the whole place going, and before long there was a bedlam of screaming, wailing, shouting, beating of breasts, jumping up and down, fainting. The wife then just went hysterical, shrieking and pulling her hair, and beating on the end of the pew. She ran up to the front of the church and tried to climb inside the still-open casket. Ushers had to come running down the aisle and pull her off, then they dragged her out a side door, her high heels making little track marks in the sea of thick blue carpeting. Her piteous screams and wails echoed down the long tile hallway as they carried her away. Unbridled pandemonium reigned for some few minutes. Fat ladies in glittering dresses and hats big enough to seat 6 were either swooning melodramatically or jumping up on the pews and shrieking at the tops of their lungs, wildly waving their hands in the air. Terrified children ran in and around the aisles as their mothers, brandishing "Compliments of Blessed Rest Mortuary" paper fans, chased after them, screaming, "Come back here you, or I'm gonna smack you upside the head!" Stone-faced ushers stood at the ends of each row of pews, trying to maintain decorum but finally breaking character and joining in the mourners' chorus. The pastor just calmly stood up there and watched. He finally began clearing his voice, then rapping on the pulpit, then intoning into the microphone, entreating the congregation to please be seated. The hysterics went on a good five minutes before people got wound down again. I began the introduction to the solo once again. Well, saints be praised! I'll be doggoned if there wasn't a booming butt-in from the organ! I whirled around and saw with astonishment that Prunella had seated herself at the organ and was striving mightily to join in with the soloist and me! That is, drown BOTH of us out! Exasperated, I made wild, waving gestures with my right hand and mouthed a stage-whispered "STOP!!!" to her. She hissed, "I know this song!" I hissed back, "I don't care if you do. STOP PLAYING!" She snarled, more loudly,"But I =3DKNOW=3D this!" I snarled back, more loudly, "STOP!!!" She huffed her way off the organ bench with a scowl and disappeared into the congregation, and I finally saw (and HEARD) the last of her. F I N A L L Y, we got to the solo ... "When Peace Like a River." After the funeral, one of the deacons came up to me. "What on earth did you say to that nice lady from the mortuary?! She said you are the Meanest Man she has ever met, and that you have absolutely no idea of protocol or how to respect other musicians. She's really steamed at you and said she is going to complain about you to the pastor." Talk about your flabbergastedness! Of course, what was going on was she had showed up, uninvited and unannounced, to play--- and wanted to make sure she "earned her keep" ... e.g., get her FEE! Later, I asked the pastor to let me see the bill when it came from the mortuary. The following week when I got there for choir rehearsal, a copy of the bill was in my mailbox. Sure enough, there was an item: "Organist...$150" !!!
(back) Subject: Re: Speaking of Funerals From: "Travis L. Evans" <email@example.com> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 18:15:59 -0500 While I dont' think I can or want to top Charlies funeral story. I do = have one to add to this most interesting topic. Having grown up in a very small town, populate 400. I played for lots of weddings and funerals. The most memorable happend I think my junior year = of highschool. My piano teacher had been asked to sing and of course I was asked to play for her and for the funeral. Not a big deal I thought until the funeral home told me who the funeral was for. The preceeding week I'd been sitting on the front porch of our home with = my parents. Now remember this is a small rural town of 400 people which I = know 98% of them. Well we had seen the two police cars fly by the house = further out into the country. Of course that means something is seriuosly wrong. Well a few minutes later an ambulance went by and at that point you = usually call someone who has a police scanner to get the scoop. Well, it had been = a shooting we later found out. Anytime you play for a funeral where its a murder seems to me puts a different spin on things. This time however the accused murderes where his wife and brother in law. Fast forward to the funeral. Small towns gossip travels faster than anything. So by the day of teh funeral the entire county knew who the suspects were. You could cut the tension with a knife when I walked in to the funeral home for the service. As I walked in there was the wife and kids and her brother, and on the other side sat his parents and siblings. I've never been so afraid that a fight was going to break out in all my life. We made it through the service with no real problems. However leaving was another story. People began yelling at each other, one person tried to run over one of the suspects. Was a trying afternoon. But one = of those days I'll never forget. Travis
(back) Subject: Decoration Day (was Ray Charles' Funeral) From: "Alicia Zeilenga" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 18:57:50 -0500 My grandmother called it that in the early 1990's and she lived all but the last 3 years of her life in the Chicago area. When Memorial day and the new Roman Catholic Visitation (May 31) fall on the same day, the mixture of Marian hymns and patriotic songs can be quite fun. I think I heard Immaculate Mary, Eternal Father, Strong to Save, Schubert's Ave Maria (instrumental for Communion) and America the Beautiful (all but the first verse, I don't know why) this year. Alicia Zeilenga -----Original Message----- From: "Raymond H. Clark, Quilisma Publications" <email@example.com> To: PipeChat <firstname.lastname@example.org> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 11:14:43 -0700 Subject: Re: Ray Charles' Funeral--off topic > I think it was "Decoration Day" originally ... the graves of > Confederate > (and later Union?) soldiers were decorated by their widows and > sweethearts. Later it was extended to the dead of WWI; at some point > along the line it became "Memorial Day." > > So you WOULD have heard Southerners still call it by the old name. I > think my grandmother still did. > > Cheers, > > Bud
(back) Subject: Re: Decoration Day (was Ray Charles' Funeral) From: <DERREINETOR@aol.com> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 20:56:40 EDT My Great-grandmother (who was British born in 1894 and died nearly a = century later in Massachusetts) ALWAYS called it Decoration Day. Having lost = numerous cousins and a couple of brothers during WWI in the armed services of = Great Britain, Canada and the United States, she used to say in her later years = that "No one day is a proper memorial. The perpetual memorial is our liberty, = both in North America and in Great Britain". To this day we "decorate"--in the cemetery--in remembrance, each year. It taught me not to forget the = sacrifices made by previous generations, and to be vigilant against foolish wars of = all kinds. It also taught me that, like the sacramental theology she held = dear, that there is much to be learned in the DOING. Planting geraniums has become a spiritual act, thanks to her outlook. In the decoration, is prayer and = very little rhetoric. Bill H.
(back) Subject: WNC From: "Jon Humbert" <email@example.com> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 23:12:51 -0300 Hi List, I just got home this evening from visiting family in Washington, D.C., area. We went to the Sunday organ recital at the National Cathedral. Recitalist was Brian Swager (Fourth Church of Christ, Scientist, San Francisco). He played Vierne's 2nd Organ Symphony and the Variations sur un vieux noel, Opus 20, by Dupre. This was my first time to the Cathedral. Afterwards, I went to greet Mr. Swager and see the console. I noticed the 64' Bombarde Basso. Question: Is this a resultant, a stopped pipe or a full-length pipe? Also, is there no 32' reed on the organ? I thought I saw one on the console, but do not see it on the website's stoplist. The organ was right there in front of me; there was no one keeping me off the bench. Boy, did I have to fight the urge to draw a handful of stops and start my own recital. Ah, maybe someday. . . Regards, Jonathan Humbert Organist, Word of Life Chapel Bainbridge, PA --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.707 / Virus Database: 463 - Release Date: 6/15/2004
(back) Subject: Re: WNC From: "Mike Gettelman" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2004 23:52:11 -0400 Jon Humbert wrote: > Hi List, > > > I noticed the 64' Bombarde Basso. Question: Is this a resultant, a > stopped pipe or a full-length pipe? Also, is there no 32' reed on the > organ? I thought I saw one on the console, but do not see it on the > website's stoplist. Hi Jon, This topic was addressed on another organ list recently and the = reports suggested the following. The 64' Bombarde Basso is a digital stop. The 32' Contre Bombarde and the 32' Contre Fagot have been left off the website stoplist for some reason. As I said, these reports come from a trusted source, but I have no way to verify them. Perhaps someone else might help here. Cheers Mike