The Organ Has Pipes

 They call it the 1907 Hele Organ, and you would never believe it is over 100 years old. We might expect an organ that old to wheeze, or at least to cough or something. But it does not do that. It just soars.

The people who play this organ have been brought up studying it, practicing it, performing on it, and loving it. One might say they eat and drink it, for such is the food of souls. Today we had an organ recital at St Ia Church, and the Hele Organ was truly in its element. 

The performing organist today was one Martin Palmer, of Truro. Martin studied the organ, cello, composition and conducting at London's Royal Academy of Music (it doesn't get any better than that!), while singing with the London Philharmonic Choir. Imagine being able to immerse yourself that deeply into music! I have mentioned on this page before that I was brought up in church choirs and playing organs, but nothing like the riches of the London experiences Martin had.

The 1907 Hele Organ

I must mention our father, who was a wonderful singer himself and provided lessons in piano, organ, saxophone, flute, French Horn, trumpet, and so on. And he expected us to practice. We did. I think it drove him a little bit crazy listening to us playing our instruments in the other room. He had perfect pitch, and knew what something was supposed to sound like!

"No! It's a B-flat!" he would shout in our general direction. 

I recall that as a 7th grader, the band director at school, Mr. Crandall, placed me in the high school band. I played French Horn, and was taking lessons from a professional Horn player who had only one arm. She and I worked on the music Mr. Crandall gave us, and one day it was time for me to do the solo that was the centerpiece of the song. 

None of the students knew what we had been working on. I was pretty scared, as the band approached that place in the song. And then it was time, and I played it. Heads turned. Mouths dropped open. The two most popular girls in the school turned around and stared. Nobody could believe that solo was being played by a 7th grader! Mr Crandall kept directing me and together we, with the whole band, were in the middle of something bigger than ourselves.

I tell you that little vignette because it is my one example of significance a tiny bit similar to Martin Palmer. (I liked the mouths dropping open part..)

Oh - and here is a little something about Martin Palmer that I think is terrific. This morning he woke up and saw it wasn't raining or windy, so he got out his bicycle and rode it to the recital, stopping along the way in Portreath to gaze at St Ives 16 miles away! Just then, a storm broke through and he was drenched! 

But he made it to the organ recital, and played his heart out. 

It is summer season in Cornwall right now. Sometimes you will be walking down the street and hear something beautiful floating out in your direction. If you hear it, go in. Go hear what these people have been working on with you in mind. It's all part of St Ives in the summer.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady