A Reflection from our Staff
I have a doctorate in organ performance. I also haven’t touched an organ in five weeks. Among the countless things that have changed for me during the pandemic, this has to be the most challenging. It’s not that I miss playing the organ, per se, since I still spend a lot of time making music, but the alternative—playing the piano—is very difficult for me. This may be strange to hear, but I want you to know: I am not a pianist. I am an organist, and yet playing the piano is what I am doing now, all the time, because I’m working from home instead of the church.
I imagine you’re wondering why I think I’m not a pianist, when you’ve heard me play the piano so many times in church. Everyone can see that organ and piano keys are about the same, and they are arranged in the same pattern of black and white keys; but the instruments are fundamentally very different because of the way each produces sound: the piano has strings, the organ has pipes, and those speak and sustain their sound very differently. That difference is the reason the piano has a sustain pedal—which enables the strings to continue sounding while the player lifts the hands into a different position, while the organ has a full set of pedal keys—which enables the organist’s feet to work with the hands to facilitate a sustained texture.
From an intellectual perspective, this may explain why I am an organist and not a pianist, but my response when confronted with this situation is emotional: every week I sit in front of the piano, contemplate what I might play for that week’s service, and feel frustrated or even desperate. I could sit down at the organ today and play organ pieces for hours in a variety of styles and tempos, but I only know a few piano pieces, and they’re all slow movements! I might learn new piano pieces, but the fact is, I don’t have the technique for most piano repertoire—I haven’t studied piano technique since high school. I play the piano like an organist: I use complicated fingerings that are required to execute organ repertoire, but are a waste of movement on the piano. Add to this the fact that most organ music doesn’t work on the piano, because it would be missing all the pedal notes, and I’m pretty much out of options.
In the midst of this, I’m reminded of the first time I really noticed the organ in church. I was a sophomore in high school, and a piano student, but although I’d heard the organ many times, I hadn’t really thought much of it. Yet for some reason, at one particular service, I became entranced by the organ postlude. Looking back, I believe God was speaking to me directly at that service, through the organ, and it changed the direction of my life: it gave me something to be passionate about, and a clear path forward—through college and graduate school, and into a career that I’ve been in ever since. But what is God saying to me now? Can I still hear God speaking without the organ?
The answer, I’ve discovered, is yes—but in surprising new ways. For example, I can hear God speaking through the voices of our choir members after I’ve edited them together to create the virtual choir for our online worship. I actually can hear God speaking to me when I see myself playing the piano in those same videos—like a real pianist! I may feel anxious every week because I want my music to inspire others the way I have been inspired—so many times—by music, and right now I don’t feel equipped to accomplish that—especially at the piano. But I have been startled by God’s voice speaking to me through these new musical contexts in these challenging times. I believe God is telling me: “Be creative, try something new, be bold even when you don’t think you are able, and leave the rest up to me.” I’m still not a pianist—and probably won’t ever be one, but for now I’ll just keep making music the best I can—even at the piano—and leave the speaking to God. Maybe you’ll hear it, too.
David Kelley
