Rosie's not riveted

Our new feline, Rosamunda, has graced our domecile for nearly two-and-a-half months. She's very entertaining, friendly, quiet, and has a wonderful purr. The trouble is her musical taste is suspect.

You may find this a trifle, but since one of her humans is a musician this is at least bound to cause some friction. It could be worse, though.

A teacher of mine in college had two dogs that would howl whenever they heard the sound of a piano. I dog sat for him one week and if you wanted to practice you had to lock the dogs in an upstairs bedroom and turn the radio on loudly to a country music station (no pianos). When you returned a couple hours later the dogs were hanging out listening to country. It was surrealistically amusing.

Rosie doesn't whine when I play the piano. In fact, she seems to tolerate it rather well. But she's no fan of the organ. I can tell because, whenever I play a recording of the instrument she leaves the room immediately.  There are at least modifications that can be tried. For a start, I don't have an organ at home, so, being recordings, I could spare her suspect ears by using headphones. Also, the organ is a variable instrument, with a wide sound palette. As a result of experimentation I've determined that it is only the rich, full organ sound that she dislikes. That means it is likely the sharp, high-pitched mixture stops that are bothering her. Some humans have trouble with these stops also, particularly if they are older and losing their hearing. The year I was recovering from chemotherapy I was having trouble with them myself.

My former feline, Erasmus, used to find the organ fascinating. Whenever I played a recording he would press his ear to the speakers, and whenever I played a particular piece, he would mew whenever I got to a particular note. Only that one evoked a response. I'm not quite sure if he was saying "bravo!" or "turn that off!"

The only thing he didn't care for was repetition. If he came in to the room while I was practicing he might stay for a while, but the instant I got back around to something he'd heard before, namely the passage I was on when he walked in, he left immediately. He was not into encores. Otherwise, save the time he was under the piano and got caught off guard by a bass entrance during a fugue, he and instrument were at least functional acquaintances. It's the same way with Rosie and the piano.

Some of my human listeners must feel the same way, which is unfortunate for the organ. Usually when someone doesn't like something they don't stick around long enough to risk their mind being changed, either. Oh well. At least I'm diversified.

Since this week's headline recording at pianonoise.com features the organ (without those offensive mixtures) I thought I'd try it out on Rosie, who was sitting on my lap. She stuck around for the whole thing. Maybe you will too.

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this week on the homepage of pianonoise.com, we settle the superiority of the piano versus the organ once and for all. And achieve world peace.

Piano vs. Organ (part 3)

We get tourists, sometimes. Or visitors. In any case, a young woman walked into our sanctuary one afternoon while I was practicing the organ and decided to ask the question that was pressing on her mind: which is harder to play, the piano or the organ?

She did not, it seems, want a complicated answer.

I've become proficient at both instruments, and I don't like to disparage either of them. And I like to get people to think, which usually requires a longer answer, which is something for which patience is required.

The piano, I explained, has a sustaining pedal, and an organ does not. So you can play a group of low notes and hold the sound of them while your hands are in the air leaping to notes far away. This is impossible on the organ where the sound ends the moment your hands quit the keys (depending on the building's reverb, I guess) and generally tends to sound stupid on an organ. Therefore, leaps are one of several things that abound in the piano literature but do not in pieces written for the organ. Also the piano tends to emphasize hand crossings, and rapid runs more than pieces written for the organ do. So in that way, the piano requires something that the organ usually does not. It is also an instrument that rewards or punishes according to the subtlety of the touch, where an organ has a little more room for error. There the articulation matters, but a heavier attack on one note in a group will not produce a distracting bang like it will on the piano, ruining the phrase.

I said all this to set it in counterpoint to the next part, which is what most people would assume I would say, namely that the organ has all kinds of buttons and knobs that the piano does not have, and notes to be played with the feet on top of that, and is therefore a more complicated machine than the piano, case closed.

Actually, I didn't close the case, but my interlocutor did. She decided the organ was way more complicated and that was that. And therefore, I suppose, better. Or more praiseworthy as a pursuit, anyway. After all, the technical difficulty score counts big, just ask the Olympic judges.

And considering that the organ at Third Church has 175 ranks and about 188 knobs, with 4 manuals, two rows of couplers which I haven't counted, probably around 40 toe studs and 50 thumb pistons, 4 expression pedals, two kinds of crescendo, and a magic drawer with multiple features I would need several paragraphs to begin to describe...well, it's a large organ. I don't know that it is really fair comparing it to a piano since it isn't really an average organ. It is complicated. And difficult. And maybe I should get  a gold star for being able to play it. And maybe, when people simply want to be really impressed by something I should leave well enough alone and let them be impressed.

But I still like to think. And I think that life is not about being impressed by something that is difficult if your appreciation stops there. Admiration is only a start. And though I've noticed people at dinner parties would rather hear about the organ than they would the piano that nobody is playing organ music on the radio. Not even the classical station. People aren't lined up to come to organ concerts either. I hope I can do something about that.

Meanwhile, the piano in our sanctuary is out of tune. The tuner comes next week. I'm looking forward to that. I've been missing the piano. It does only have one manual, and only three pedals for the feet, no knobs, no buttons. But it is a wonderful instrument. Many feel a closer connection to it than they do the mighty organ. I can understand that. I'll be making more pianonoise very soon. Until then, Hector and I are going to make some wonderful music together.



What, I can't give the organ a name?

It's coming!

Talk about a first world problem.

I'm having some conflicting thoughts about the return of our organ console sometime next week. It has been nice to spend time with our piano, and only the piano. It feels a bit relaxing not to feel like one needs to simultaneously be a proficient organist and pianist, to take on the massive repertoire for both instruments at once, and to compose, improvise, and continually be learning new music for both instruments. Not to mention that the poor piano has suffered so much neglect lately at the hands of this so-called pianist that it was probably starting to wonder if I even cared anymore. So I've been enjoying the feeling of sitting at the piano every day, both because I get to reconnect with my musical instrument "roots" and also because it feels like a bit of a vacation.

Not that you'd notice that, I realize. There is the fact that the current state of the pianonoise sound archive is such that there are several more organ recordings than those for the piano, and the fact that I've blogged about nothing but the organ all summer. But this month I've made several piano recordings which you won't get to hear until I start rolling them out in October, and I promise to spend most of my forthcoming blogs, once the year gets rolling at the end of September, on the piano.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I was so excited by playing the organ I wondered what I had even seen in that instrument a few feet away with the single keyboard and only one type of sound. But then, I have the privilege of being able to wax hot and cold over both instruments. I get paid to play both of them, and, at the same time, both seem like a hobby.

It's just now that, making a luxury out of a necessity, I'm enjoying the sound, and the ease of operating, the piano. Recently I discovered a few 20th century pieces to tickle my congregation with. The voices of Rachmaninoff, Poulenc, Villa-Lobos and Leo Ornstein have echoed through the church. I think there was a little Marteau in there, too.

Several people in my congregation prefer the piano, and have told me so. They usually have the manners to add, "but I like it when you play the organ, too." It does seem, somehow, that the organ is a little harder for most folks to find friendly.

And yet one can find organ enthusiasts. They are frequently among the most enthusiastic enthusiasts anywhere. They have to be. It's an uphill climb. But I always liked mountain climbing (metaphorically speaking, anyway).

There is at least one fellow who much prefers the organ. He's been waiting patiently all summer. Next week we'll both get a dose of the sound that only comes when a fellow named Bach writes a piece for an instrument called the pipe organ. The rest of you poor slobs just don't know what you are missing!

This week we'll have one more crack at the piano, and some good old hymn tunes from our Methodist, piano-loving forebears. Then, next week, suddenly, in a twinkling, the majestic sound of the king of instruments returns.

It's really a wondrous machine.

You say goodbye, I say hello

We said farewell to our pipe organ yesterday.

If you're not in the loop, what's happening is that the pipe organ at Faith United Methodist Church in Champaign, Illinois, USA, where I am organist, is getting a new console and extensive work is being done to essentially correct a problem with the electronic relay system that has been an issue since the organ was installed in 1984 and has been growing steadily worse. Digitizing the console will fix the problems (among which are the distressing random appearances of notes that won't play across several ranks of pipes) and add some new features (like 100 memory levels! woohoo!).

This means, however, that our organ is going to be out of commission for the entire month of July and probably most or all of August.

No problem, says our mild mannered organist, dashing into the nearest phone booth (if he can still find one--maybe the cell phone dealer down the street will do). He emerges just moments later as....a pianist!

::gasp!!::

I know. It's a real shocker. The author of Pianonoise: the blog (the breakfast cereal is still in negotations, and the movie is in contract disputes) is actually a pianist. I don't blame you for forgetting about that since I've spent the last month almost exclusively at the organ, trying to spend as much time with it as possible while I still could. But, truth be told, I'm a little relieved, because now I have an excuse to give the piano some attention. All of it, actually.

Yesterday, we sent the organ out with a blazing finale. I played the D major Fugue of Bach (Bwv 532) which has a very exciting pedal part which no one was able to see with the console tucked away in the corner away from the congregation (hint hint, guys, you can still pitch in for the dolly that will let us move the new console out onto the floor). But it was thrilling nonetheless. While I was procuring the score for the fugue I came across this recording of the work on the piano. It also includes the prelude, which I played on Palm Sunday 2013, as well as the fugue which follows, which I meant to get around to last year but was just a little too busy preparing a piano recital at the same time (which was a year ago tomorrow, and featured the works of civil war-era touring virtuoso Louis Moreau Gottschalk. You can check out the current pianonoise radio program to hear the music at pianonoise.com (right hand side below the "new on the blog" box) and read blogs about the experience in the menu on the left, all on the homepage of pianonoise.com this week.)

Another year has come--this time no June recital, so I've gotten around to the fugue. Here are my recordings of both of those works:

[prelude]
[fugue]

Now, I am not a large fan of transcription, although, for occasional fun and frolic, I have indulged in a few of them on pianonoise. Mostly, though, I prefer to play works written for the organ on the organ, works written for the piano (or the harpsichord) on the piano, and works written for the banjo I leave well enough alone.

But it can also be interesting to hear someone reinterpret a work in a different medium, particularly if they do it well. Here is a link to the International Score Library Project page which features a recording by pianist Martha Goldstein. It is interesting to here all of the Romantic grandeur from her performance: the octave bass to give the piece more gravity (and after all, an organist would probably be using stops in different octaves anyway). the lavish rubato, leaning on certain notes to give them expressive properties, and then dashing away in a shower of sound. One thing I find particularly interesting is the very opening, when the pianist, probably realizing that the opening flourish is played with the organist's feet, assumes that that would mean it would have to be played slowly! Of course, in the recording above, I actually use my feet and that doesn't slow me down a bit. There are other spots after that when the pianist seems to be trying to evoke a particular feeling of grandeur to compensate for the piano not actually being (her idea of ?) an organ. It is, at times, the complete opposite approach to the one I took--but then, I didn't have to worry about communicating grandeur so much on an actual pipe organ! Well, you listen:

http://imslp.org/wiki/Prelude_and_Fugue_in_D_major,_BWV_532_(Bach,_Johann_Sebastian)

Scroll down the page under "recordings" until you get to the one on the piano.

piano vs. organ, round two

First, the obvious. We know that an organ can easily out-shout a piano, so if sheer volume is your thing the organ is the clear winner--at least if your particular model has any size on it. The one at Faith church can hold its own with a 40 piece brass band and even a dozen bagpipes (frankly, I could have blown either of them away if I'd pulled out all the stops, although I'll admit the bagpipes did give me some pause!)

The organ can, under other circumstances, whisper as well, though the organ at Faith finds this a challenge, one which is exacerbated by the fact that the softest string stop is not complete--if you want access to the lowest octave you have to use the louder of the two string stops on the Great manual--not a thunderstorm, exactly, but less of a zephyr than otherwise.

However, the piano purrs in a way that the organ does not, and, having been raised as a pianist, I still admit to preferring the basic tone of the piano. I will state frankly that I think most congregants do as well, for better and worse. There is a lot one can do with it; it dies as it speaks, it varies ever so slightly with each note, it is intimate and friendly (and familiar--there used to be one in every home). By contrast many people find the basic organ sound disagreeable. A pity, especially with so many fascinating sounds to choose from--an organist is basically commanding the sound of an orchestra. But it is an orchestra that is missing a piano.

The piano is also the better instrument if you have an inferiority complex. These days I am mainly "reduced" to practicing on a 7 foot Steinway, which is two feet shorter than the instruments concert artists prefer and most concert halls have. There is a difference between those Steinway D's that festoon the concert hall and the model B of pianonoise fame, but it is not nearly so great as the difference between the organ at Faith church and the organ at St. Paul's cathedral. A piano's size does matter, but there is only a two foot difference between our B and the largest pianos in the world (o.k., at least one firm makes a 10 foot piano but it doesn't seem to be considered an improvement), whereas some of the grand organs in European cathedrals are many, many times larger than our organ, and feature pipes that you can actually walk through they are so large.

Large, and complicated. As I've mentioned before, the organ is a great instrument for problem solving. It has a large number of switches, knobs and buttons which allow not only for all manner of different ranks of pipes to be activate, producing different sounds, but it allows the player to manipulate and mix those sounds together by either transferring those sounds from one keyboard to another or to add sounds an octave above or below without actually having to play those notes. If the organ has an electric action, you can pre-program combinations of stops and activate them with the touch of a finger or the swift (friendly) kick of the toe. This gives the organist lots of power, not only in volume but in variety; however, it also frightens people with its complexity. My pastor sent me this comic the other day that illustrates the problem:

(that's from ToneDeafComics.com which you should check out if you found that funny)

This may be why organists don't seem to have as many friends. It is a very specialized instrument. Organ enthusiasts share their love for the organ with other organ enthusiasts. At least with a piano there is a chance you will find someone from outside the ranks willing to listen. A partial shame there, too. Whenever I am in a room with lovers of the piano I feel like an organ apologist, but when confronted with the bigotry of organists I assume the same defensive posture with regard to the piano. Why not have both?

A piano, of course, cannot hold it own in a large cathedral, but most of our churches are not such monuments of stone, and have pianos as well. Ours has both and I wander easily from one to the other. Acoustically it is a little wet for the piano, and a touch dry for the organ, but it is not a bad compromise (Methodists tend to be in the middle of the road in a lot of other ways, also.)

That allows for a lot of variety both for me and our congregants, and allows me to draw from a very rich heritage. The organ goes back to before written music, and has about 7 centuries from which to select it. Most of its contemporary repertoire seems to be limited to Europe and America, though--the organ may be catching on in other parts of the world, but it is too expensive to be enjoyed everywhere. The piano only goes back to 1700; playing Bach on one is still a controversial decision, but it has a vibrant present and future in terms of the size and scope of the literature. Still the quality and quantity of works produced for either instrument is enormous. Another draw.

It is nice to be able to fight over something that does not draw blood or result in massive property damage, and so you won't hear partisans squabbling over the superiority of their favorite musical instrument on the evening news ("hey! hey! equal time for the banjo!" somebody yells from the back). The woods are full of secretly overwhelmed pianists sniffing that the organ isn't a worthwhile pursuit anyway, and organists looking down their spectacles at an instrument that doesn't even take up an entire room, and with a pedigree than doesn't go back to the English Civil War (can you believe it?!). Meanwhile, I am on both sides of the line, which is a great way to get shot by both sides.

But I get to have a lot more fun than either of you. So there.

piano vs. organ

Regular readers of this blog (both of you) will have noticed an alarming trend. The blog is called pianonoise, and yet it seems to increasingly concern itself with the organ, which is a different instrument entirely. All of the topics entertained here lately are for the older instrument, and a glance at the new recordings in the audio index show that nothing but organ recordings have been posted for the last month. What gives?

It is a little embarrassing, I'll give you that. For the second time in the site's history the piano side of the catalog was running neck and neck with the organ side and then the organ portion did the same thing it did last year and took off with the prize. I do have an explanation for all this, however.

Mainly it is that this summer at our church the organ is undergoing some major renovations, and will be completely out of service for the months of July and August. Therefore, if the organ and I are going to spend any quality time together it had better be now. As a result of which the piano is being almost completely ignored. But a month from now that situation will be reversed.

The other reason for the predominance of the organ is however, that I am also an organist. Not just a guy who plays the organ. I love the instrument. I've become pretty good at playing it. I want to play all the great literature for it, explore all the registrational possibilities, shake the roof with its magnificence, and I don't care who knows it. Even if that is pretty much a ticket to musical geekdom of the first order. Too bad.

And what is most interesting over the past couple of years when my interest in the musical behemoth really took off is that I can see, from the heights of my enthusiasm, why organists are so dismissive of the piano whenever they condescend to even think about it in print. I don't share their smugness or their opinion, but I can see why.

Because when you are engaged in one of the glories of the organ, during those times when that is all I am playing, I think: why could I possibly want to play the piano, anyway?

But, as it happens, I always come back to the piano, eventually, and when I do, I think: what did I ever see in that other instrument?

The two live only a few feet apart from one another in our church sanctuary, and yet their history, and the music written for them, is so different. So is the approach. So is the effect on the listener.

And yet, if I were stranded on a desert island with only a computer and an internet connection (of course--how else could I post my effusions for you?) I'd want both a piano and an organ. The second one would be damnably hard to take care of on a desert island, with the reeds going out of tune every five minutes, and the piano wouldn't be all that maintenance-free either, but all the same, I don't think I could exist without both of them.

The same cannot be said for adherents of the two instruments. In fact, in a room full of everybody except organists I end up being an organ apologist. But I think organists who don't care at all for the piano are really missing out.

I can wax eloquent about each instrument in future installments. In the meantime, here are two pieces of music, as if to say, how, when you listen to this one, can you not love the piano? And how, when you hear this one, can you possibly not love the organ?

Rank Amateur

I'm a professional musician. I even have degrees in it. I've played at Carnegie Hall. But that doesn't mean I'm an expert in everything.

My degrees are in piano performance. All three of them (including a doctorate). But in matters of playing the organ I have no training at all. Which has made my life very interesting these last few years, since my major source of income involves playing a keyboard instrument for which I am not officially prepared. It's like getting paid for your hobby.

Not that I don't have a head start. But the two instruments aren't really all that much alike. I've always been able to play the pedals, however. I've been playing the organ in churches since I was a teenager, and I do a lot of improvisation, so I could always get a congregation to believe that I was a qualified organist even though I've always thought of myself as a fake one.

This isn't rare. A lot of church organists are actually pianists in disguise. Some of them don't play the pedals at all, or seldom. Many or most have no idea what all those knobs are for and don't use those much either. I have spent a lot of time in years past using boring or ineffective organ registrations.

When I finished school I started to spend a lot more time on the organ, learning the great literature written for the instrument. Since I had progressed so far on the piano and had friends who were world class organists I was well aware of my deficiencies. But I love a challenge. And the organ is a glorious instrument.

And there was the internet. At first I used to walk to the library at the university to check out books of organ music, but in recent years I can discover new pieces, download the music, hear lots of people play them, and learn all sorts of things about organs without leaving my living room. Some day that is going to seem routine, but I can remember the days before you could do that. Way back near the dawn of the century. Nearly a whole decade ago. Before Youtube, even. Or Wikipedia. Or even, before Google. I think dinosaurs may have roamed the earth.

I've watched fine organists play and watched their pedal technique. I've read (and asked) about registration. I've spent hours experimenting on our church's instrument. I've read about organ building and the properties of pipes. I'm a slow learner in this area and need to hear some of these things again until they start to make sense. That's usually how things work at first--slowly. Then the pace of learning accelerates because you have some context for the information you are receiving and are more heavily invested in it, are passionate, and also because not only do you know what you know but you are really able to focus on what you don't know (because finally you are aware of that, too).

A number of beginner organists, recently converted from the piano, have started blogs chronicling their adventures. Even though I'm up the tracks a bit given my pianistic ability and long history with the organ, I can feel the enthusiasm of the amateur when I take on the organ, each time there is something I didn't know yesterday, or I tackle a new part of the repertoire. This week I'm giving my congregation my first de Grigny.

de Grigny was part of the classical French school, which means there are a lot of rules regarding organ registration. I was afraid I had run afoul of one of them the other day when I recorded the following piece, but it turns out I was right, though I can't always distinguish a plein jeu from a grand plain jeu in the dark without thinking about it--yet. For most of you, who are thinking, sure, whatever, this is obviously of no particular excitement to you. It is a matter of specialized knowledge--nerd adrenaline. My third-year medical student wife didn't know about ideopathic relapsing febrile non-superative panniculitis until recently either. But's it enriched both our lives. Well, trying to remember how to say it has. I'm no doctor. But it sure sounds cool (and happens to be a rather nasty disease).

Anyway, I've got lots of folks on the internet to help keep me in line, and I'm still trying to improve my craft. And having some fun along the way.

Here's a bit of Pentecost music: de Grigny's "Come, Creator Spirit" -- part one.

[listen]

The Big 3 - 0....0.

Johann Ludwig Krebs turns 300 years old sometime this week.

Are you wondering who that is? (Hey, if there's cake, don't ask....)

Mr. Krebs was a student of a fellow named Johann Sebastian Bach. If you haven't at least heard of Mr. Bach I assume you've been living in a cave or were raised by wolves or both. Or that the aliens just put you back. Krebs, on the other hand, appears to have had some difficulty in securing recognition in life, on his way to becoming a composer whose name I had seen before in my reading but whose music I had never played until a couple of weeks ago when fellow organist and blogger Vidas Pinkevicius mentioned the upcoming anniversary. So don't feel too bad if the name doesn't ring bells for you.

Besides, that means I can introduce you to something new. In the process of investigating Mr. Krebs' legacy I can currently share with you several pieces based on Lutheran Chorale melodies which one generally assumes were written in connection with Krebs' job as a church organist. Krebs himself had a good bit of difficulty getting such a job, according to The Wikipedia, which I shamefacedly confess has been my only source of research to this point. When he actually did get a job, he got paid only in food to feed his family, in lieu of an actual salary. (By the way, getting part of your salary in foodstuffs was actually quite common at the time, although there was generally also a reasonable amount of money involved as well.)

Since I myself am a church organist, and with better luck than Mr. Krebs, apparently, in that I have a job and it pays actual money, I've chosen to play a handful of these works in my church over the next couple of weeks. I've also done what might seem like an odd thing and gone and prepared these works to perform on the piano. Since Monday is generally a day for listening to piano music on this blog that makes it just about perfect.

But why the piano? The beast was only invented about 1700. That means that Krebs probably had heard of one, and may have seen one (his teacher, Bach, tested an early prototype, and later on became a kind of sales rep for an associate who built them), but it's not very likely that he had one at home or was thoroughly acquainted with this newfangled instrument. Besides, these pieces are liturgical in nature, probably meant for church, and that means the organ, because in Europe in the 18th century pianos certainly did not live in churches.

Well, about that....being the impatient type, and with a lot to do these days, I found some scores at everybody's favorite website, the International Score Library Project, printed them out, and, being at home at the time, promptly went to my piano to try them out rather than waiting until I got to church. The first thing I noticed is that they don't have a pedal part. And that they can be played rather easily on one keyboard, so they work very well on the piano. They also sound very nicely on a piano. I wondering if they would perhaps not sound so nicely on the organ. There are some rolled chords and other types of writing that make me wonder, even though I haven't tried them that way yet.

So I wonder, in my non professional-musicologist, not-completely-up-to-speed-on-all-the Krebs-literature way, whether they were in fact intended for the harpsichord, because in my mind's ear they would sound quite well on the that instrument, and also because if Mr. Krebs didn't hold a church position for a good portion of his life, that would mean he didn't have regular access to an organ, a predicament I have grown to appreciate through my wanderings on the web and the comments I have read therein. Did he have difficulty conceiving music that took advantage of this rather unique king of instruments, or did he want something he could play on instruments he had access to? (By the way, the rather secular-minded non-organist-virtuoso Telemann also did not seem too wrapped up in conceiving his chorale-based pieces for the organ, although they do steer clear of specifically non-organistic things; they simply have no pedal parts and are short and uninvolved.)

These speculations will lead me to a rather unpopular conclusion in another week or so when I discuss the provenance of a set of short Preludes and Fugues I'll be playing the last week of October. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, here are a few very nice pieces by that student of Bach. Notice the chorale tune doesn't figure prominently at all in some of them. In others, those that seem to have two parts (most of them actually have three parts in the score, but in some cases I am only playing the first, and in others the first two, parts) a solemn, quarter note melody comes in only in the second verse. In the third part, the hymn tune is played like it would be sung in church. I wonder why he did that. At any rate, you can enjoy the music without being steeped in the tunes.

Krebs: selections from the first part of his Klavier Ubung (Keyboard Notebook):

Sei Lob und Ehr dem hochsten Gut         Praise and Honor be to the Most High
Vater unser im Himmelreich                  Our Father in Heaven
Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan               What God does is done well
Jesu, meine Freude                              Jesus my Joy