More than two decades have passed since the devastating Sept. 11 attacks on the World Trade Center left Trinity Church draped in dust and debris. Though the towering Gothic Revival church in Lower Manhattan survived the catastrophe, its venerable 5,000-pipe Aeolian Skinner organ, a fixture since 1923, was tragically damaged beyond repair.
Now, a new era of sound has begun. The church recently unveiled its magnificent replacement organ with a stirring inaugural concert by acclaimed organist Anna Lapwood. The performance not only filled the sacred space with breathtaking music but also carried a profound message of hope and rebirth. “It’s an amazing instrument,” Lapwood remarked, “You can really feel you are playing the building as well as the organ itself.”
(A moving passage from “Dieu Parmi Nous,” by Olivier Messiaen, plays, showcasing the instrument’s power.)
This extraordinary new instrument, the culmination of a decade-long design and construction process, cost nearly $17 million, including its intricate woodwork and casing. It boasts an astounding 8,041 pipes, some soaring as high as 32 feet, making it one of the largest organs in existence. The organ features two consoles—one positioned at the front of the church and another at the rear—each equipped with four keyboards (known as manuals) and 51 keys. An impressive array of 113 stops, the knobs above the keys, allows the organist to mimic the diverse sounds of an entire orchestra, creating everything from the grand, dramatic swells reminiscent of “The Phantom of the Opera” to the delicate pianissimo of a Debussy piece.
“Do you want loud or soft first?” Trinity’s organist and chorus master, Avi Stein, playfully asked before demonstrating the instrument’s capabilities. With a smile, he settled on, “Let’s pick quiet.”
Built in 1846, Trinity Church stands as the third iteration of a house of worship on this site since the parish’s founding in 1697.
The intricate craftsmanship of the new organ is a testament to dedicated artistry, taking nearly 10 years to complete. It is the result of a collaboration between Glatter-Götz Orgelbau in Pfullendorf, Germany, and the renowned tonal designer Manuel Rosales.
During its inaugural concerts, the mobile front console was prominently displayed. For regular services, it will find its place subtly at the side of the pulpit.
For those in the audience, the experience transcends mere listening; the sounds of these pipes resonate deep within the bones. As Anna Lapwood aptly described, “You are playing the building as well as the organ itself.”
While watching an organist, it’s natural to focus on their hands gliding across the keyboards. However, a true organist engages all four limbs in a mesmerizing dance. Below the manuals, Avi Stein’s feet perform an intricate ballet across a thicket of 32 pedals, each responsible for producing deep, resonant notes. Four levers, resembling gas pedals, are the ‘swell shoes,’ which open and close shades to control the volume, making tones softer or louder. Buttons, known as pistons, instantly activate programmed combinations of stops, allowing for swift changes in the tenor, pitch, and character of the notes.
(A video shows Avi Stein’s feet expertly navigating the pedals and swell shoes of the organ, revealing the unseen complexity of an organist’s performance.)
The journey to this new organ was not without its detours. In 2003, in the immediate aftermath of losing its original instrument, Trinity Church installed a digital organ called the Opus. Built by Marshall & Ogletree, this electronic alternative aimed to fill the void. Yet, whether it truly captured the authentic pipe-and-bellows sound that had graced the church for centuries remained a subject of ongoing debate. Despite engineers’ best efforts to fine-tune its sound, the electronic nature of the music was hard to overlook, with notes emanating from 74 hidden speakers rather than genuine pipes.
Unsurprisingly, this digital solution did not fully resonate with everyone in Trinity’s vibrant music community. Organist Avi Stein diplomatically noted that the Opus “lacks some of the tangible singing quality that turns a machine into a work of art.” Consequently, with a renovation in 2018, the church finally retired the digital organ.
(A video showcases Avi Stein performing “Prélude et Fugue sur le Nom d’Alain” by Maurice Duruflé on the new pipe organ, highlighting its rich and authentic sound.)
The versatility of this instrument is astonishing. Depending on how the organist utilizes its 113 stops, it can convincingly replicate a French horn, a booming trumpet tuba, a delicate oboe, or a soaring flute. “American organs in particular were built as equivalents of orchestras,” Stein explained, adding, “If you didn’t have an orchestra, well you had an organ.” To further illustrate its expansive musical palette, Stein played the concluding measures of Debussy’s String Quartet in G minor. “That’s not even a piece of organ music,” he mused, “But as you can see, it can do all these great orchestral colors.”
The organ is a singular instrument, yet it comprises four distinct components: the two consoles (a mobile one at the front and a stationary one at the rear) and two sets of pipes strategically placed in both the front and rear of the church. Crucially, unlike its digital predecessor, it produces no electronic sound. However, the mechanism that seamlessly connects these elements is predominantly electronic. Pressing a key on the front console sends an electric signal through an Ethernet network, triggering a precise blast of air through the corresponding pipes. Even the tuning is modernized, with a technician using an old iPod for precision adjustments.
However, not all connections are purely digital. In the gallery organ, for instance, a visible mechanical linkage demonstrates how a key directly moves pivots that meticulously control the airflow through the pipes, a beautiful blend of tradition and innovation.
(A video provides a close-up view of the mechanical linkages within the gallery organ, showing how keys physically control the air flow to the pipes.)
From its foundation on Broadway to the pinnacle of its steeple, Trinity Church soars to a height of 281 feet. When it was completed in 1846, it stood as the tallest building in the United States—a distinction it no longer holds, but its sheer scale remains imposing. After a 24-year absence, a majestic organ once again commands this vast space. “You feel it all through your body,” affirmed Melissa Attebury, Trinity’s director of music. “It is magnificent.”
(A final video features Charles Hubert Parry’s “I Was Glad” performed on the organ, filling the grand expanse of Trinity Church.)