Well, Pipe Screams has certainly garnered the reputation it deserves. Sheer excitement fizzled in the air as I wove my way through throngs of people in Boe Chapel. In my freshman year, I had gone to Pipe Screams on a whim; back then, perhaps one-quarter of the pews were filled. This year, by the time the lights dimmed at 8:15 p.m., almost every seat was taken.
A blend of St. Olaf students and Northfield community members filled the room, and many were dressed in costume, especially the organists. A Ghost Face figure kicked us off with the quintessential “Toccata in D Minor,” followed by a few animals, followed by a caveman who led a spooky rendition of “Joy to the World.” At one point, sailors Jeremiah Knudson ’26 and Katie Nail ’26 performed an adorable little jig before giving us a flawless duet.
With purple light beaming up onto the pipes, the organ was bookended by a disconcerting mini-crypt cocooning two elderly dolls and an equally disconcerting sheep, and light licking at the black, scabby, stained glass windows before a chancel of empty chairs, the overall effect was deliciously eerie. When the music began, the normal world tilted away. The organ’s thrum traveled up through the floor, filling the whole body.
Of course, no two songs induced the same effect. Some made me think of a dreamy forestscape, others of a liquid black-gold color scheme, and others of flying over a snowy mountain river. The organ’s capacity to produce such a matrix of overlapping notes was spectacular. Its plurality, its resonance, its command — hearing it, I imagined a dozen hands scribbling across the same sheet of papyrus at once. Still, my favorites were the songs and phrases that dropped some of the layering. These segments, drifting and inquisitive, made the organ a living thing, an earnest creature let out on Halloween night.
After a proper ending to the concert with the theme from “Psycho,” I spent the walk back reflecting on care and dedication. Rapt doesn’t describe the attention with which the musicians leaned over their instruments, dipping their heads and shoulders as though the keys were whispering a secret. Eyes, touch, ears — the organ demands a full-body commitment. Playing it seems nothing less than a dance. Long after I graduate, Pipe Screams will remain a symbol of the purposefulness, curiosity, and whole-heartedness imbuing life here at St. Olaf.
