What happened to the Baguio Cathedral's organ?

hardly noticed it at first. In fact, I didn’t notice it at all when I shot the photograph of the Baguio Cathedral’s tabernacle from the west entrance a few weeks back. Days later  while cataloguing  JPEG files in my computer I noticed two similar shots of the same subject--but there was something notably missing in one.  The first photo (above) was taken on September 9, 2012. On the balcony just above the right side pew banks you could clearly see the huge pipes of the church organ jutting up towards the ceiling, surrounded by a protective mesh cage. Those organ pipes are gone in the latest photograph taken on September 9, 2020—exactly eight years to the day.

Don't look now, but that old familiar Baguio Cathedral pipe
organ is gone. The chamber vibrato you will hear during
"organ masses" these days is likely coming from a digital
keyboard wailing through hi-fi speakers suspended from
the church's massive columns.

   The digital age has caught up with the House of God. To be sure, you can still hear organ music at all masses held today. But the sound is no longer coming from vibrating air rushing through a forest of tall resonating pipes made of anodized steel. These days it’s coming from a network of high-fidelity speakers hanging from the columns holding up the cathedral’s roof, each one powered by a tiny matching amplifier driven by a central amplifier in a small control room beside the tabernacle.

   And the organ player is not tickling the ivories on an old Hammond organ anymore, or pumping the pedals of a mechanical air bladder to produce the distinctive chamber vibrato of an authentic church organ.  He or she is more likely to be keying the music on a MIDI synthesizer—perhaps a digital Roland or a KORG keyboard--which are the anointed electronic implements of choice in many churches these days.  Anyhow, the sound they produced must equal or even surpass the tonal quality of their analog predecessors because no one has been known to complain.

   I could be the first one, and my reasons have nothing to do with music. Or even religion, for that matter. I grew up a firmly-indoctrinated Roman Catholic, something that was par for the course back in my gradeschool years studying in Baguio Central School. We had a religion subject and, not being part of the state curriculum, our teachers were young women who were volunteer catechists from the various dioceses scattered around Baguio City. My religion teachers, in particular, were from the Saint Vincent Church in Naguilian Road, just a stone's throw away from Baguio Central School.  

This is Saint Vincent church where me and my
fellow Baguio Central School (BCS) altar boys
served. This was our base but in all the years
that I was a sacristan here, I didn't even know  
that Saint Vincent HAD a surname--Ferrer! I 
just found out when they installed this wrought
iron gate and welcome arch in 2005.

  The most memorable to me was Miss Dicang and she had two proteges, Miss Evangeline and Miss Susan.  Miss Dicang was in her late 20s, a bit more elderly, her two understudies were in their teens. Miss Evangeline and Miss Susan couldn't be older than 18. The unwritten rule  seemed to be that full-time  (meaning more elderly) catechists were called by "Miss" and their surnames, while the younger ones were called "Miss" with their first names.  Miss Dicang (that's her surname) wasn't quite a fullfledged nun. She wore the short-sleeved  brown vestments of a Carmelite--women studying for a nun's order but who have not taken their vows yet. Her two younger--and charming--proteges Miss Evangeline and Miss Susan were almost your average girl-next-door but for the small scapulars they wore around their necks intended to ward off amorous advances.

    I don't recall too much biblical discussions during those one-hour religion classes, beyond your basic orthodoxy of the redemption story. However, every single one of those  religion "Misses"  are able to play an instrument.  If it wasn't a guitar, it was the harmonica and with it they patiently taught a whole classroomful  of tone-deaf little scoundrels like me songs with lyrics that goes "Sons of God, hear His holy name..gather 'round the table of the Lord...eat His body, drink His blood and you'll see the Son of God, hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah!"

Not quite as spacious as the Baguio Cathedral
the inside of Saint Vincent Church still had that
Gothic ambience--and it did have its own organ. 
Not a pipe organ but one that produced a 
sound with a tone wheel. But for the most part
the "guitar mass" was the more popular choice. 

    I've always been fascinated by praise music. So I was one to quickly volunteer for extracurricular involvement in after-school laity service as an altar boy (we were called sacristans). I wasn't the only one, and for other reasons as well.  It was a "guy thing"--a rite of passage, if you will--among elementary boys to always have a boyhood crush on one of these saintly damsels. We never did understand why regular teachers were homely looking, but religion teachers--the veritable untouchable daughters of God--were always the gorgeous ones, of all people.  

    On very busy days when there were more masses and fewer altar boys available, we sacristans from Saint Vincent Church were often "loaned" over by our Belgian parish priest Fr. Paul Belense  to the Baguio Cathedral.  Aside from altar boys, song leaders like Miss Evangeline and Miss Susan were loaned out too. It was a definite level-up for  them, from leading "guitar mass" at Saint Vincent to leading "organ mass" at the Baguio Cathedral.  Back in the day, it was a high spiritual honor to be called to service at the cathedral.

     But on a more temporal consideration, if you did have a crush on your religion teacher, the best way to keep Miss Evangeline or Miss Susan in your sights was to select the worship services where they would be the song leaders.  You were so enamored with them already, it sent your head spinning to find out that on top of their charm they played the organ too!

A cathedral without a pipe organ? It's almost like having a 
cathedral get rid of its belfry towers. In my book, every true 
cathedral must have a real organ--not just a digital keyboard
no matter how much more powerful or high-tech they may be.

    The cathedral had two organs back then. One was an electric Hammond that the lovely Misses played with ease and glee. But on days when there was a brownout and the electric organ was out of commission, they had to contend with a foot-powered Hamlin pump organ  which had a mechanical air bladder that produced the compressed air needed to blow across a bank of reeds. The Misses absolutely  hated it and it broke our hearts to watch them sweat profusely working  the footpedals and playing the keyboard at the same time. It was such a heavy cardio workout for them, they christened that organ "The Bicycle."

    Now both the Hammond and The Bicycle are gone. Almost 50 years later I'm sure Miss Evangeline and Miss Susan  must be old ladies now, warm and comfy in their beds, doting on adorable grandchildren and married to very lucky husbands.

    For years after elementary and high school, and even on to college, everytime I looked up at the cathedral organ pipes, I always remembered those two gorgeous religion teachers and how, despite the temporal struggles they put me through  nursing a secret crush on a couple of "absolute unattainable" girls I could still be deeply grateful. Those two gorgeous ladies  imbued all the boys of my day   with a soft spirit and an appreciation for the kind of beauty in another human being that was more profound than skindeep.  As well, they planted the seed of  a lifetime love for music I still have today--including the love for the piano, guitar and the saxophone.  

    For my part, I think every true cathedral must have an organ--a real organ with tall pipes, 3-layer keyboards, a complicated console of   switches and drawbars, the whole enchilada,  Just the sight of that tall forest of pipes soaring into the ceiling and the glorious sound of piped harmony echoing back and forth in the cavernous domed atrium of a cathedral--that to me evokes the grandeur of religion.  I wish they would bring back the organ of the Baguio Cathedral.

    I could ask but I would be guilty of conflict-of-interest. 

   I can't imagine walking up to the bishop today and asking him to return the pipe organ because they were my sentimental links to a couple of juvenile boyhood crushes. I'd be banished to hell and perdition in a heart beat. With the vast improvement brought in by digital technology relegating analog instrumentation to the dustbin of history, seeing that organ restored---just like attaining the endearment of Miss Evangeline or Miss Susan--is now maybe just another  pipe dream. (all photos copyright 2020 Joel R. Dizon)

NOTE FROM JOEL: Hi, folks! Recently, I started a YouTube channel which is called "Parables and Reason" It  is kind of similar to this blog content-wise. You can check out my channel by clicking the link below:

 Joel R. Dizon - PARABLES AND REASON