Jonathan Moyer earned his doctorate in musical arts in organ from Peabody Institute, where he also studied piano, before earning his artist diploma in Organ at Oberlin. He currently works at The Church of the Covenant in Cleveland and teaches at Oberlin, where he received the Excellence in Teaching Award and oversees one of the largest and most diverse collegiate organ collections. He will present a faculty recital this Saturday.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

What brought you to organ originally, and how did you find your way to Oberlin?

It’s kind of a circuitous journey, as it is for many musicians, with a lot of serendipity along the way. Church was a part of my life growing up, so I had some exposure to hearing organ through worship experiences, but I was focused on piano studies. In college, I studied the organ a little bit. I was always fascinated by the sound, its broad range of color, and its repertoire. It’s like a friendship you realize is more than just a friendship as it builds over the years. I still love the piano. I play it a lot. I appreciate the relationship between the two instruments.

In graduate school, my organ teacher really inspired me. I traveled to Europe more and was introduced to many historic instruments that have such diversity and broad range of colors. One day I asked myself, “On what bench am I ultimately more happy?” I continued graduate school for organ, did a doctorate in organ, and moved to Cleveland to become an organist of a Presbyterian church here. I was approached by the Organ professor at Oberlin at the time to consider doing an artist diploma here. Not long after, this second position opened up here. I feel like one of the luckiest people alive to be a part of this institution, teaching this amazing instrument at one of the greatest schools for organ study.

You mentioned briefly the relationship between the organ and the piano. How have they influenced each other?

The history of the organ is very long and complex, and represents an amazing evolution across Western Europe. It has the largest repertoire of any keyboard instrument — 600 years worth. It predates the piano, but by the end of the 18th century, the piano became a dominant force in music and music education. The techniques and repertoire developed for the piano strongly influenced organ builders. Many composers writing for the piano were also organists — Franz Liszt, Felix Mendelssohn, César Franck, even Johannes Brahms. Now, we have a whole host and range of repertoire on the organ that requires a background in piano.

You mentioned your religious upbringing, and you currently work in the church.  What is your relationship with faith and how do you navigate the religious implications of the organ in an educational setting?

Frankly, the instrument wouldn’t exist as it is today if it were not for organized Christianity in Western Europe. So much of our Western structures for education and libraries and philosophy are linked to the early organized Roman Catholic religion because monasteries and cathedrals were the centers of learning. They amassed these instruments; universities grew out of these places. I think it’s important to acknowledge that link. How can we play the work of Johann Sebastian Bach without understanding its context — 18th-century German Protestant Lutheranism?

I play much of the music of Olivier Messiaen. He was a mystic, surrealist, Roman Catholic of the 20th-century, and he was profoundly open about his faith expression through music. It’s not the exact expression I share, but I identify with its aims. It’s a gateway to understanding many eternal questions. That’s the beauty of faith: it’s trying to answer some of those mysterious questions through religious text and stories, ritual, and community. I am profoundly moved by the community aspect of religious experience, especially right now. We need it. We must share our human experience and express it through music and ritual and liturgy.

In a secular institution, because we want to be all things for all people, we want to be open and respectful, but sometimes we’re cautious about having specific conversations about meaning, context, and personal views on religious expression. But we shouldn’t be, because it’s very human. I think we can have respectful conversations about it and allow people to manifest their own spirituality. I’m not interested in proselytizing any particular walk of faith. I’m a generalist spiritualist. My wife is Japanese. I love Buddhism. I take the 10,000-foot view and see the shared experiences and expressions.

Is your upcoming recital related to the other Messiaen concerts Oberlin has hosted this year?

Not this one. We do have a Messiaen festival this year — we had two concerts in the fall and a third one is coming in March, featuring one of his cycles, Les Corps glorieux. He wrote it in 1939, right before World War II. It deals with symbolic representations of death and resurrection.

It’s a fascinating piece when you look at the arc of history because it’s written right on the cusp of this horrific event, and it’s an existential piece trying to come to terms with this eternal battle between forces of life and death. It’s profound stuff.

Why did you choose to focus on Messiaen this year?

In college, when I discovered his music, I had an immediate soul connection. I think we’re all just nerve endings in the universe and occasionally we find those nerves that we connect with. The first time I heard his music — some piano music — there was an immediate connection. I did my doctoral research on his organ music. He’s such a seminal, important composer, not just for organ. Many of our students play his music, but this was an opportunity to dig a little bit deeper into who he is and to experience the larger cycles he wrote.

You plan to play a set of variations you composed on a theme by Tallis on Saturday. Do you compose frequently?

It’s more than a hobby, but I let it happen when serendipity opens the door. As a liturgical composer, I improvise a lot for worship services. Often, those improvisations will turn into an idea that I can flesh out into a larger composition. I really like composing for old organs. This instrument in Fairchild Chapel has many unique aspects associated with 16th- and 17th-century music. I like to take past techniques and reshape them, add modern sensibilities, and stretch the tonal and technical boundaries of the instrument.