Learned to tune a rank wrong on purpose

Spent the morning pulling the Ophicleide rank out of tune on purpose—just a few cents sharp on the middle octave, so the swell cuts through the congregation's coughing. My old mentor would have called it sloppy work. I call it meeting the room where it lives. Twenty years ago I'd have chased the spec sheet to the grave; now I trust the acoustics more than the meter. There's a kind of peace in letting a pipe argue back.