A Conversation with Thomas Richner

July 20, 2004

Orwell, Vermont

Lorenz Maycher

LM: Tell me about your early years.

TR: I was born in a little town in Pennsylvania called Point Marion, about 15 miles from Uniontown, Pennsylvania, and 10 miles from Morgantown, West Virginia. Point Marion is where the Cheat River and the Monongahila River come together, and that’s the “point.” The main industry there is the Houze Convex Glass Company, where my father was a glass blower. He told me, “I’m never going to let you do this kind of work. It is not for you.” We agreed that I would do what was right for me, and that is how I got into music.

My first piano teacher, dear Mrs. Conn, lived next door to us. And, from a very early age I developed a great interest in understanding what I was hearing, and loved to practice the piano when people weren’t around, trying to perfect everything I was doing.

LM: How did you become interested in the organ?

TR: Well, in Point Marion, we were members of the Christian church, which did not have an organ at that time. There was just a piano, and I played it for church. When I was just a kid, as all kids do, I went backstage, so to speak, and found this piece of furniture that was all closed up. I opened the lid, and it had two keyboards and pedals – a pump organ. I started pumping the pedals and playing, and derned if it didn’t work! I immediately became attached to it, and thought the sound was just wonderful! I took mama’s vacuum cleaner from home and hooked it up to it to run it.

LM: How did you know to do that?

TR: Well, I knew it had to have some kind of in-come, or out-go! (laughs) And, frankly, I didn’t want to be the one doing all the out-going - I didn’t know where I might land! (laughs) Anyhow, it worked. I had an uncle who was a plumber, and we put the vacuum cleaner in the basement and ran a line up to the organ. All I had to do was press a button to play it – and this vacuum cleaner was downstairs running it!

LM: Did your mother encourage your music?

TR: Yes, she was very much with me. And, my father was, too. I was an only child. My father didn’t know a thing about music. But, my musical friends told him to go hear me when I started playing here and there in public. He began to see what it meant to me and he supported and encouraged it. He became very happy and it brightened him greatly – it changed him. To this day I enjoy playing for people and making them happy.

LM: Did being an only child have an effect on your music?

TR: Well, yes. I realized at an early age that I was on my own, and that I’d have to make do. I had to single things out in my own mind and seek those who could assist me, people who, in turn, became dear friends. When I first went to college, at the state college in Morgantown, I was surrounded by friends and never felt they were measuring my every note. This gave me great sense of freedom, without having to worry about being 99% correct all the time.

I knew, though, that I had to get away and seek other things. And, so, when I would play someplace, a person might come up and say, “You know, you should really play here,” or, “You should really play there for so-and-so. I’m sure there would be an opening there for you.” That sort of thing got me all kinds of jobs, ending up with my becoming the organist at the big Science church in Boston, where I was for a number of years.

LM: But, you were in New York City first, weren’t you?

TR: Yes. I studied piano there with Dora Zaslavsky. She had heard me play and accepted me into her studio. Her husband was the artist John Koch. She was a dear sweet thing, and her guidance saved me from not liking myself.

But, I had also developed a great love for the organ, and learned how to play it by myself. I would sit down at an organ and say to myself, “Oh, isn’t this incredible! What am I going to do?” Many people have said, “You play by ear, don’t you?” Well, in a way, yes, I do. I must make certain that what I do by ear is going to land on everybody’s ear, and they’re going to decide whether what I do is any good or not.

Later on I became organist at Fifth Church of Christ, Scientist in New York City, which is just half a block from Grand Central Station, with Schirmer’s just around the corner. We were on the air, and people listened to us from all over. Some people, of course, didn’t know the difference between A-flat and A-sharp, but we were under the pressure of perfection. Alfred Greenfield had been the organist there, and he was head of the music at New York University. He was a dear person, and directed me in the right path, saying, “You’re the one I want to have follow me.” When I succeeded him, and told him I was uneasy and didn’t feel worthy, he said, “Always remember, it is just one service at a time.” Isn’t that wonderful?

LM: Didn’t you tell me you used to run up to St. Bartholomew’s after your service?

TR: Yes, to hear David McK. What a wonderful musician and service player. He would do the most incredible decrescendos. You could see his hand raised above the console, and as he lowered it, the choir and organ would fade away into nothing. That’s what I call the theatre in music. Rather than stopping abruptly, he would just make it disappear unnoticeably. I admired him very much. Everything was just right. For instance, at the beginning of a service, he knew exactly what to play to usher in what they were going to say. And, the end of his prelude would just fade away so that the service could begin. It was just wonderful.

At Fifth Church in New York City we had a front organ, an antiphonal and an echo organ. I used all three for the hymns, but at the end played a tag, making the organ fade away into nothing. The echo was enclosed within the antiphonal, which was also enclosed. It really speaks to the people when you reduce, reduce and reduce. I learned this from David McK. Williams. What a dear man he was.

LM: How do you deal with nerves before you have to play a concert or big service?

TR: First of all, I think of how the music should sound, without squeezing or pushing it. It is important to know what you are doing is correct, and have your mind set on this. It is important to love what you are playing, rather than think, “Oh, I wonder if I can play this or not!” or, “Gee, I hope I can get this right!” Sometimes there are obstacles to overcome, like talking going on, or a not-so-good instrument. Well, that is why we have a mind, and why it is important to have our music up there, rather than looking at our surroundings for it.

When I played at First Church in Boston, we were on the air. One of the greatest teachers I had was being able to come back after a service and turn the machine on and listen to myself. And, I had a nice Aeolian-Skinner at home that I used a lot for practicing. Lord of mercy! But, I’m so happy that I worked at it, rather than just fiddling around “while Rome burns!” (laughs) Excuse me, but I have this burning sensation! (much laughter)

LM: You are too much!

TR: You know something? Never let your humor go. Do enjoy, have fun within yourself, and have fun with people you enjoy. Do things absolutely, and not just halfway.

LM: You have a lot of freedom in your playing.

TR: That’s right. Music is part of you. You can’t argue with it, and you can’t let yourself or the music down. Rather than just going over and over and over something, which isn’t much help, I make myself hear it mentally before I ever play it. One must have a goal in mind. Another important thing is to have patience with oneself. If you make a little boo-boo, it’s not going to make that big a difference. It is important, though, to not ever play something without first practicing and listening to it. We must be our own critics.

LM: What do you listen for when you practice?

TR: First of all, tempo. Second, every single note has a meaning. You have to have an understanding of why each note has meaning. This makes you a part of it. You’re not reaching out there for something. You’re it! It all has to be within you.

LM: And you play a lot of Mozart.

TR: Well, I have small hands, so they are well suited for Mozart. We are close friends! He helped me win the Naumberg Award, which got me a recital at Town Hall.

LM: What do you think his true personality was? Could it really have been like he was portrayed in “Amadeus?”

TR: In no way, shape or form. He was a born musician, and a serious man.

LM: Did you enjoy working with soloists at Fifth Church and The Mother Church?

TR: Oh, yes. We were like family. We got to the point that we understood each other so well, musically, that we always knew what the other was going to do. We rehearsed everything one week in advance, and recorded our rehearsals so we could come back prepared for the actual service.

LM: You also taught piano and organ at Rutgers and Columbia.

TR: Yes, and that was a wonderful experience. My colleagues were very dear and supporting, and I loved teaching.

LM: Did you know Searle Wright?

TR: Yes. He was very quiet and gentle, and never tried to act like a big shot. That means so much - to understand who you are without being arrogant (which is what Christian Scientists call “mortal mind.”)

LM: How do you approach teaching?

TR: Every student is different. You have to find out where they are and find something that is within their reach. Each person has something to give, and that’s what I stress to each student – he is a giver of the music. But, each gift has to come from above first. Then it goes to you and it is your duty to love it and yourself and then give it away to your audience with ease. And, remember, your audience, whether it be in concert or at church, is with you every step of the way. The only way to get something over to them, though, is to love it and enjoy it yourself first. And, remember what you are doing is benefiting mankind, and not just one person. It’s not a case of being selfish, but one of giving.

You’re looking at an old-timer! I was born November 5, 1911. And, I’ve learned that you get back what you give. You make your own future. If you give with tender loving care, people feel it.

LM: Do you practice much these days?

TR: I practice enough to keep myself going so that I don’t feel left out in the open. If somebody asks me to play, I can still say, “Sure.”

LM: Do you feel organists should have a piano background?

TR: Absolutely. It breaks the music down note for note, so that you have a clear understand of melodic line, harmonic structure, counter melodies, etc., instead of just fiddling with stops or mechanical things.

LM: Do you have a motto in life?

TR: No. But, I feel we should do the best we can in our giving. Don’t just play around, but play well, prepare, and give it away. It gives you such a wonderful feeling. And, I’m a big fan of that word “L-O-V-E.” Love what you are doing, love your friends, love every note you are playing.