Hmm many years ago, my piano teacher and I would sometimes play music for four hands. I didn’t enjoy these occasions very much because when two people play in tandem, each must always be very aware of the other, of the time (beat count), and the placement of the hands. Spontaneous grace notes, sustained notes, or, God forbid, missed notes, are off limits because precision is imperative for a unified sound. Much practice, coordination, personal expertise, and a kind of telepathy, are essential for four-handed piano. How much more so when two adults share a seat for a four-handed, four-footed organ recital? The space is narrower, since a piano keyboard has seven octaves and even a modern organ keyboard is only five octaves wide. In addition, there are three or four keyboards, foot pedals, including crescendo and swell pedals, and many other buttons and pulls, variously named “stops” and “couplers” plus some others I still don’t know that names of.
All that to say, for two people to play one organ, there needs to be such a degree of cooperation, coordination, precision, almost a symbiosis, not to mention a general agreement on who does what, and whose feet go where, that the mind boggles. Yet, Max Kenworthy and Nicholas Grigsby, organ duo, the Bermuda Festival’s Wednesday evening presentation, and the final in their Festival-within-the-Festival cycle of four organ recitals, made it look, if not easy, then deceptively effortless and uncomplicated.
Seamlessly crossing hands, crossing feet, moving from keyboard to keyboard, the programme notes did not exaggerate when they stated the “unanimity of hands and feet is so beautifully judged that one might forget that two people are performing”.
The duo took turns presenting the first and second halves of the programme. Max, currently Assistant Director of Music and College Organist at Ardingly College in West Sussex, and who interestingly, also happens to be our Governor’s son-in law, shared a little about the division of labour between himself and Nick. He (under)-stated that Nick does most of the pedal and ‘heavy’ work, while he, Max, turns the pages and handles the “fiddly bits”.
Nick, in addition to being a regular broadcaster on New Zealand national radio, presently serves as Artistic Director of the Wanganui Festival of Organ Music in that country, where he is also Director of Music and School Organist at the Collegiate School. He gave the audience a brief overview of a typical organ as well as a brief history of this ancient instrument which was once used as a battle instrument by the Ancient Greeks who would wheel a water operated organ onto the battlefield to terrify their enemies with its horrendous sound — similar to the origins of the bagpipe.
The evening’s performance seemed much more contemporary than the two previous organ recitals I attended, although most of composers were from the 17th and 18th centuries, perhaps because so many of the selections seemed designed to display the joy, the liveliness and the amazing versatility of this giant and most ancient of instruments. We were led from the majesty of Handel’s ‘Arrival of Queen Sheba’ and the sweet solemnity of Bach’s ‘Air on a G String’ as well as his (Bach’s) light and ‘jolly’ ‘Scherzo’, through Albinoni’s sonorous and rich ‘Adagio’, and Wesley’s reflective ‘Sonata for Two Organists’, to Merkel’s ‘Psalm Sonata for Two Organists’ inspired, it is said, by Psalm 42. The third movement of this selection kept my heart in my mouth as Max’s sock-clad feet competed with Nick’s heavier shoes for mastery of the pedals. I kept waiting for pinched toes that thankfully did not come! The final notes of this movement created vibrations that one could feel right up through the floor.
I did not recognise Elgar’s ‘Pomp and Circumstance March # 4 in G’, being more familiar with the March #1 of the same name, the trio movement of which is often played at graduations, or sung as ‘Land of Hope and Glory’. The audience was given a potted bio of Elgar, collector of poetry and apple varieties, who lived through both World Wars and lost many friends and family, from which he never quite recovered. His essential melancholy seemed to permeate this selection.
The final two selections of the programme presented quite a contrast. Viennese composer Johann Strauss’ ‘Tritsch Tratsch Polka’ was quite light-hearted, almost reminiscent of a fairground theme, while German Richard Wagner’s apocalyptic ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ was a fitting triumphal ending, which, although deserving of a standing ovation, still occasioned prolonged applause. As an encore, we were treated once again to an impish Noel Rawsthorne medley, a composer whose work was previously introduced by Dr John Scott at an earlier organ recital. In this selection, snatches of ‘Lord of the Dance’, a hornpipe, Popeye’s theme song, and even ‘Old MacDonald’s Farm’ were recognisable. What fun!
