An organist of a thrice-daily religious broadcast I can scarcely stress enough the importance of valuable techniques employed by this "foot and hand" manipulator. Taking for granted that the organist is a born-again, consecrated Christian—for this is primary—let us proceed from there.
Ten seconds to go! We are on the air! Immediately the organist goes into action. Then, after nearly thirty minutes of industry and concentration, the clock tells us that only thirty seconds of the broadcast remain. The organ crescendos the few remaining bars of the closing theme, and we're off the air. Thus the organist is the alpha and the omega of the half hour of inspiration and devotion. During a successful thirty minutes of broadcasting, the organist must be alert and keep his wits alive. As a control-tower technician of a landing field keeps in touch with airships which circle the field, so must the organist, in order to "land" a good broadcast, keep his eyes fixed on the announcer, the radio technician, the speaker, and the singers. He must keep wide awake; this is primary. A dreamy, half-interested musician will make havoc of a potentially excellent broadcast.
Perhaps you have asked yourself, "How can I better profit my broadcast through the augmentation of music? How can I use this music to the best advantage?" I have listed a few suggestions and techniques which may prove helpful, and should enhance your program.
I. ORGAN BACKGROUND.—What a background is to a picture, so organ music is to a well-planned broadcast. As the broadcaster draws the word pictures, the organist adds the color. Musical background paints the gold and purple of nobility, the greens and blues of serenity and life, and the gray and black of poverty and death. Let me illustrate. The broadcast has begun, and the speaker is about to read the immortal poem of William Stidger, "I Saw God Wash the World Last Night." After the broadcaster announces the title of the poem, there will be a slight pause before he recites. At this moment, a space of one second, more or less, the organist may begin playing "This Is My Father's World" or "The Spacious Firmament." As the speak'er pictures nature in its grandeur, the organist adds the colors. This particular poem is composed of twenty lines. The first sixteen lines relate to the work of God in nature. Therefore, one of the hymns mentioned would be fitting.
The last four lines of Stidger's masterpiece describe the longing for cleansing and regeneration of heart. As the speaker is reciting the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth lines, let the organist subtly change the tune to "What Can Wash Away My Sins?" or "Whiter Than Snow." By the time the speaker is describing the regeneration of heart in poetry, the organist will have supplied the proper background, making a completed and satisfactory picture. If executed properly, the combination of words and music will delight and uplift your radio audience.
Two cautions should be mentioned. First, beware of clashing. If the speaker is presenting a vivid portrayal of Christ as a child among children, do not forfeit your integrity by playing "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded," or a tune that is comparable. And if you can see the lightning and hear the thunder in its fury about Golgotha, for the sake of the gospel, do not play "There Is Sunlight on the Hilltop," or a relative tune. Make the music describe the words and thoughts of the radio speaker. Remember that music is color. Watch your mixture.
Second, do not play loudly. The radio audience is primarily interested in what the speaker has to say—not in your competitive crescendos. There is a fine line drawn between exquisite background music and noise. Covet earnestly the forn-)er, or you will be a recipient of honest censure. Perhaps this line of Wordsworth will help, "Sweetest melodies are those that are by distance made more sweet."
I play for a thirty-minute broadcast of stories, poems, hymns and songs, and a sermon. I find that the radio audience, by a large majority, prefer no music background while the sermon is being presented.
2. CONTINUITY AND TRANSITION.—A good broadcast is characterized by a smooth and chainlike continuity of words and music. Here again the organ may be utilized to rood advantage. The organ acts as the welder of links, each weld being a transition point. A bit of poetry may be one link, a story another, vocal music another, and prayer yet another. But without anything to weld them together there is danger of producing a jerky, amateurish, disconnected broadcast. The organ may be employed to take these links and form a chain' of continuity that will be pleasing to the fireside listener. Here is how you can do it. The theme has been completed, and the organ music is brought to a whisper as the speaker welcomes his listeners. The speaker announces the first song. Without playing an introduction (for it may be a waste of time, and might be noted as unpreparedness by a critical listener) let the singer begin. The song is ended, and the organ softens to a background.
The speaker reads a poem, while the organist supplies the proper background. In the poem the speaker may be talking about the tolling of a church bell. Let the organist take advantage of the chimes that may be attached to the organ. The tempo of the poem changes. It becomes intensified. The speaker is describing the angel choirs welcoming the King of kings to glory. Let the organist be playing a background of praise and adoration, perhaps a portion of Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus," or the gospel song, "To God Be the Glory." As the broadcaster reaches the final climax and captivates the attention of his listeners, the organ should be painting the gold and purple of kingly splendor. The speaker has said the last word of the poem, and the last word is a cue for the organist to crescendo into a grand amen. Following the amen, the organ is hushed as a visiting minister offers prayer. The prayer is ended. The organ may rise to a mezzo forte, and quickly modulate to another key and back to pianissimo.
The speaker continues, and so the program progresses. A modulation is employed to set the stage for a new thought, and makes for interesting variety. Variety is the spice of life, and it is the spice of your broadcast. Incorporate modulations frequently, but not too often to be annoyino-b or showy.
So the broadcast continues, with the organ welding each separate link of the broadcast into one continuous chain. I am not attempting here to forge rules as to how your program should be patterned, but merely making suggestions of methods and techniques that have been tried and proved.
3. USE OF ORGAN SOLO AND RESPONSE.—The organ as a solo instrument can be a feature of your broadcast that will attract the heart of many who are deaf to words spoken or sung: A simple hymn or gospel song, uniquely arranged, may do more for a restless spirit than a theological discourse. The speaker gives forth the utterance of his soul by the medium of words. The vocalist sings what is in his heart by means of word and music combined. Then let the organist express his inward thoughts by playing his instrument. The audience will appreciate an organ solo.
I have often employed an organ response at the conclusion of the prayer. This is done for two purposes—to seal the prayer in the heart of the listener, and to prevent an abrupt transition of thought. The response may prove very effective in a broadcast.
4. EMERGENCIES.—Every broadcaster should be prepared for an emergency—the time when the unexpected happens. Emergencies are not a part of a good broadcast. Nevertheless, they exist, and creep in—who knows when? So there ought to be a plan in case of an emergency. What advantage is the organ in time of emergency? Here is an example. The broadcast is proceeding smoothly with every link of the program fitting to perfection. The speaker is presenting a graphic picture of Lot fleeing from Sodom. Suddenly, without warning, something catches in the throat of the speaker, and the worst begins to happen. The victim frantically endeavors to talk normally, but the harder he tries, the worse it sounds. In order to prevent choking, he coughs and gasps for air. It is 'then that the organist can crescendo into appropriate music and save the day and the broadcast. The organist may keep on playing until the speaker has removed the impediment, and then fade as the speaker resumes the story of Lot.
Other emergencies may be coped with in the same manner. A new singer may be overcome by nervousness, a too-confident singer drops his book, or a violinist breaks an "A" string and stops playing. Emergencies may come at any moment. By being alert and ready to play in a moment's notice the organist may be able to divert disaster.
