Washington National Cathedral

“The heavens are telling the glory of God,” writes the psalmist, “and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.” From the highest point in Washington the sound of bells echoes God’s glory, lifting ears, eyes and hearts to the Creator. The Kibbey Carillon in the Cathedral’s “Gloria in Excelsis” central tower has marked occasions of joy and sorrow, of celebration and commemoration, of craftsmanship and artistry for nearly forty years.

Reaching the carillon requires a climb of 150 vertical feet up limestone spiral staircases (or a shorter trip in two elevators) from the nave’s floor. At the carillon level, enormous bronze bells hang from a battleship-gray steel frame that surrounds a small sheltered area where carillonneur Edward M. Nassor plays the keyboard and pedals. Fenestrations in this part of the tower are lined with coarse screens that let the music stream across the Close and as far as a half-mile into the neighborhood.

The screens also admit snow and rain. On one memorable occasion, so much snow and ice built up that the carillonneur could not pass from the stairwell to his seat at the keyboard.

A close look around this part of the central tower reveals large bells near the floor with medium and small bells hanging higher in the frame, some of them thirty feet overhead. Chipping paint on the steel frame and spots of oxidation catch the eye. But so does a terrific view of downtown—the Capitol, the Washington Monument and, on good days, Roslyn and Alexandria, Virginia, across the Potomac—and a special angle on the copper cross with green patina at the east end of the apse.

The bells themselves are nearly indestructible. They do not rust or change pitch, and do not change shape even where the clappers hit them. (In a carillon, the bell is stationary and a metal clapper strikes the inside of the casting.) The few spots on the bells from birds or paint do not even merit notice, much less cleaning.

The rest of the mechanical connections is another matter. Each time a clapper strikes its bell, the clapper flattens ever so slightly. The side of the clapper that strikes the bell must be rounded to create the cleanest, brightest sound. Over forty years of use, the clappers became flatter. The sound, more shrill and dull, carried less distance.

Good Stewardship and Good Timing

When rust and peeling paint reached a rather serious stage several years ago, the development department joined with the carillonneur and worship department to raise money to strip and repaint the structure. The carillon’s original manufacturer, John Taylor Bellfoundry of Loughborough in England, was contracted to remove many of the smaller bells, replace thirty badly worn clappers and regrind the twenty-three less worn ones while Cathedral craftsmen sanded, primed and painted. Removal of the bells revealed some additional need for repair where bells were bolted to the frame.

The day after Pentecost in 2001, the carillon fell silent for a projected five months as restoration work began. Clerk of the Works Don Myer described the project as a great work of stewardship, preserving and conserving a fine instrument for generations of use. Nassor served as the consultant for this restoration.

Apart from some metal work to be completed in Baltimore, all restoration work for the project was performed on Cathedral grounds. A room on the Close was provided for the carillon manufacturer’s workers, and painting was done by hand in situ. Cathedral staff first entertained bids to shroud the carillon level and sandblast the frame. The Cathedral’s own painters, however, estimated that they could save tens of thousands of dollars by working manually. After burnishing off the old paint and rust, they applied a rust inhibitor and finish with fresh gray paint.

The Best Seat in the Carillon

That little room where the carillonneur sits is located in the center of the carillon level, surrounded on all sides (except beneath) by sixty-four tons of bells and affording the carillonneur an ideal vantage to hear every note. Inside are a telephone, heater, air conditioner and the carillon keyboard. Nassor’s fists strike “keys” resembling wooden dowels, while his feet play a pedal board like an organ’s. The carillon therefore sounds up to six notes simultaneously. Each key or pedal controls the striking of one bell. When the carillonneur strikes a key, a cable—through the shortest possible distance and number of turns and springs—pulls the clapper up against the bell. A quick, firm strike produces a loud sound; a more gentle touch, a lighter sound.

As part of the restoration all of the tracker wiring—actually aircraft cable as long as thirty feet—was replaced, and the keyboard was regulated so that all bells will ring uniformly across the compass of the keyboard. All clappers now rest one and one-half inches from the bells, the same distance the keys travel when played.

While bell craftsmen and painters are working, the Cathedral’s mechanical workers improved the climate control in the keyboard’s room. Greater stability in temperature and humidity help preserve the wooden keys and the keyboard’s mechanical action.

A Clear Call to the Cathedral

The bells rang again on the Sunday after All Saints in early November 2001. Historically, bells have been used to call people to gather, particular for worship. The same is true today. “The bells draw people toward the Cathedral and give a preview of the liturgy of the day,” explains Nassor. One visitor to a Christmas Open House several years ago confessed that after parking several blocks away she could not find the Cathedral, so she followed sound of the bells.

Not just worshipers come. “Carillonneurs from all over the world come to visit our Cathedral just to play this carillon,” says Nassor. “Of the top three carillons [measured by weight], this one is in the most exacting tune.” This restoration process maintained those standards; no bells were added, no modernization done—just a complete preservation of a set of bells long regarded for their quality and sound. With this restoration process complete, the renewed clarity of these bells will call musicians, pilgrims and visitors for generations.

Sidebar

A History Cast in Bronze

Carillons were developed from town clocks in the Middle Ages. Thirteenth-century instruments had just enough bells to play the first few notes of a chant such as “Ave Maria,” “Te Deum” or “Veni Creator Spiritus.” The first carillon came to the United States in 1856 and the second in 1922. After World War I American soldiers, who had seen carillons in Belgium and France, erected them as memorials in the United States. The practice gave rise to a golden age of carillons between the wars.

The Cathedral’s carillon is the third heaviest in the world. Miss Bessie J. Kibbey, who gave the Cathedral its magnificent instrument in memory of her grandparents, sadly did not live long enough to hear it play. She traveled Europe, interviewing bell-founders until she found one willing to cast one as large as Big Ben. The Bourdon Bell tolls at funerals.

The Kibbey Carillon is one of the largest sets of carillon bells cast at one time; the single casting produces a more uniform sound. The Cathedral’s instrument also has one of the heaviest sets of bells, the largest of the fifty-three bells weighing twelve tons and the smallest seventeen pounds. New carillons can be as large as seventy bells; the standard when the Kibbey Carillon was built was forty-nine. With its extended bass, the Cathedral’s instrument qualifies as a grand carillon.

Directly above the Kibbey Carillon resides a ten-bell peal set played by bands from the National Cathedral School for Girls and the Washington Ringing Society. Peal bells play mathematical patterns, not melodic music, because peal bells cannot play a rhythm; it takes two seconds for a peal bell to ring and be ready to ring again. The Cathedral’s central tower is the only place in North America to house both peal and carillon bells. On New Year’s Eve 1999, as Y2K fireworks lit the National Mall down the hill from the Cathedral, the peal bells and carillon played a duet composed by Nassor. The Kibbey Carillon has also played with other instruments. This spring Nassor played Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture with an orchestra in the Cathedral’s nave. Microphones carried the bells’ sound inside.

Despite these collaborations, playing a carillon—especially one built in the style of the Kibbey Carillon—poses unique challenges. While the music looks like very easy piano music, playing requires special training and skill because notes are played with the fists, not the finely controlled fingers. Moreover, the Kibbey Carillon and many like it are transposing instruments. A C on the musical score or keyboard does not produce a the same pitch played on the carillon as on a piano or a flute; on the Kibbey Carillon that C would play an A-flat. Thus Nassor and other carillonneurs must transpose at sight.