What is old can be new again, in the right hands and under the right feet. For example, the pipe organ. With origins in ancient Greece, it is associated today mostly with church music and horror films.
Pipe organs are big, expensive, and complicated. Most have multiple keyboards, called manuals, and a pedalboard. Each manual can play many different sounds, controlled by knobs called stops. Organs are the opposite of portable. Each is site-specific, built for the space it occupies. An organ can have many thousands of pipes, hidden behind walls and even under the floor. Once they're installed and voiced, they're meant to stay put.
Until the building comes down, or is renovated or burns. After the devastating Notre Dame fire in April, musicians around the world waited anxiously to hear if the Grand Organ with its five manuals and almost 8,000 pipes survived. It did.
If you want to hear a pipe organ — and for some people, that's a big if — you have to go to a church or a concert hall. And while the organ repertoire is vast and majestic, it's rarely cutting-edge.
But that may be changing. Last month, the wildly talented young British organist James McVinnie, who zoomed to fame when he played at the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton, joined London-based electronics duo Darkstar at the University of Minnesota's Northrop auditorium for the world premiere of a Liquid Music Series commission called "Collapse." An evening of swirling, immersive music, it was brand new and thrilling.
In early 2018, longtime Minnesota Public Radio host Michael Barone heard a new recording by another young British musician. Kit Downes is an award-winning jazz pianist with his own trio and dozens of recordings. But he chose to make his first solo album for the influential German label ECM on three different pipe organs, each with its own distinct character.
The music on "Obsidian" is a mix of his own compositions and improvisations, a haunting version of the Scottish ballad "Black Is the Colour" and a song co-written with his father. It's lyrical and emotional, full of unexpected sounds, dynamics and colors. One reviewer called the album "a richly layered, moving soundscape with dark, whispering undercurrents."
"Obsidian" caught Barone's ear.