Journal Article

The Organist of Ponikla

Sienkiewicz, Henryk

2020

Overview

In his hand he carried an oboe, on his head an unlined cap, in his stomach a few glasses of arrack, in his heart delight, and in his soul great cause for happiness, for that morning he had signed a contract with Father Krajewski to be organist of the church of Ponikła. Until then, he had roamed about like a sad gypsy, from inn to inn, from wedding to wedding, from country fair to country fair, from one church to another, trying hard to earn whatever he could by playing his oboe or the organ, on which he was more proficient than any of the local musicians. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the tolling of the great bells and the tinkling of the smaller ones, together with the odor of myrrh, ambergris, and fragrant herbs, the flickering of the candles, and the glitter of the monstrance, all combined to uplift the souls of the people so they felt the nearness of the Great Divine. The good old priest, raising, and lowering the Host, closed his eyes in ecstasy, and Klen did the same in the organ loft; and it seemed to him that the organ played itself; that voices of the metal pipes were rising like waves, flowing like rivers, thundering like cataracts, pattering like rain; it seemed as if they were flooding the church, as if they were flowing under the vaults and before the altar, in the clouds of incense, in the sunshine, and in the souls of his hearers; one voice threatening and majestic, like a thunderbolt, others like human voices, still others like the tender notes of the nightingale. On the deserted road, between frozen meadows buried under the snow that changed from red to blue in the faint evening light, he carried his joy like a bright lantern that lighted his way in the increasing darkness.

• Publisher: Organ Historical Society, Incorporated
• Subject: Heart / Oboe music