Halloween 2003 is right behind us now and the scary
stories are just a faint memory. I must admit, however, that one of
the stories aired on National Public Radio on Friday morning did excite
a little bristling on the back of my neck.
What made it even more disturbing was that the story was about a house
in the northside section of Pittsburgh. I didn’t learn about
its address until the story completed itself.
If I had known that, I would have switched to the hard-rock station
immediately.
Since I didn’t know that, I let myself be engrossed into the
stories about the British soldiers in the French and Indian War being
tortured and murdered on the site of the present house.
I won’t even mention the discovery of talking heads in large
formaldehyde-filled jars.
Grossed out yet? I was.
I’ll just never drive into the northside of Pittsburgh ever
again.
Ghost stories have come of age and common usage since the Harry Potter
phenomenon. Most of Hogwarts’ ghosts are somewhat friendly,
always idiosyncratic, and even a little annoying.
The only one of their forebears that had any charm was the cartoon
character, “Casper, the friendly ghost.” He doesn’t
count. Too cute.
Most of the other ghosts are associated with grisly deaths or macabre
activity. Their variety is enormous and their characters transcend
national boundaries.
In the catalogue of ghosts and their stories, I’ve yet to run
across musical ghosts who play ghostly music in ghostly places.
One would think that with the number of large urban churches that
have been closed in the past ten or fifteen years surely one of them
would be home to a former organist who plays Bach’s “Toccata
and Fugue in d minor” at midnight.
If the spooky organist isn’t up to the Toccata and Fugue, at
least he or she could simulate a novena and benediction service of
yesteryear by playing very slowly “Tantum ergo” with a
largo-issimo performance of “Holy God, We Praise Thy Name.”
There are enough deserted theaters in the less-than-desirable areas
in cities whose mighty theater organ is still there just waiting to
be played.
No one in the neighborhoods encircling the old theaters has ever been
thrilled with the strains of “When You Come to the End of a
Perfect Day” at 9:00 PM or heard the rousing section from Von
Suppe’s “Poet and Peasant” Overture played around
five minutes before midnight.
The last time I heard that piece played on an organ was the performance
provided by the mechanical calliope on a merry-go-round at the Jersey
Shore.
Alas, another tradition lost.
I shared my concern about no ghosts of dead church organists with
one of the editors at GIA. His answer was a simple one.
He maintained that the organ can be a powerful mood setter for Halloween
parties and/or Halloween displays on the porches of Halloween fanatics.
Perhaps the spectral organists are cruising around houses of middle-class
Americans hoping to be hired to play eerie music during the night
of October 31.
They simply aren’t in church much.
Well, it would certainly be an improvement over the stupid little
ditties on the chip-generated greeting cards and boom boxes hidden
somewhere under the aforementioned porches.
If a previously alive organist cannot be secured, then a living and
breathing organ virtuoso can set up an alternative performing gig:
The Halloween Organist:
Guaranteed to set an atmosphere somewhat eerie,
but never mind blowing.
Capable of generating scary feelings and thoughts
with tasteful repertory.
Flexible enough to change repertory to prevent scary
dreams in five-year-old children.
Suggested pieces:
Toccata and Fugue in D minor—J. S. Bach
Toccata from Suite Gothique—Leon Boelmann
transcription of Night on Bald Mountain
transcription of Sorcerer’s Apprentice
Any other suggestions?
