Accademia d’Organo “Giuseppe Gherardeschi” Pistoia announces new website

Sarah Mahler Kraaz, DMA, is Professor of Music and Chair of the Department at Ripon College in Ripon, Wisconsin, where she teaches organ, piano, and music history, and directs the Collegium Musicum. She is an active composer and has performed recitals in the U.S.A., Scotland, and Italy. She is a frequent contributor of reviews and articles to The Diapason. Dr. Kraaz spent several weeks this spring researching and playing historic organs in Italy and Spain during a sabbatical leave.

  In a perfect world, we organists would always be able to play music on the instruments for which it was written. Putting music and organs from the same time and place together produces a beautiful synchronicity, the closest thing to time travel we can experience. Happily, this was recently my fate. What follows is a description of some music and instruments that have expanded my understanding of a particular musical tradition. They will continue to inform my performances.

On March 6, I played a recital of Italian music on the Vespers Series of the Giuseppe Gherardeschi Organ Academy in Pistoia (www.accademiagherardeschi.info). Pistoia is a small city in Tuscany approximately 30 miles northwest of Florence. The remains of a medieval wall circumscribe the old town whose Cathedral of San Zeno houses a silver altar dedicated to San Jacopo, thereby putting it on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. The cathedral, the former Bishop’s Palace, the Baptistry, and the Town Hall, all dating from the 13th–15th centuries, surround a central piazza that even today dominates the center of Pistoia. An open-air fruit and vegetable market, shops, restaurants, and cafes spread out from there in a web of narrow cobblestone streets. Wednesday and Saturday mornings are market days, when stalls appear in the centro selling everything from clothing to kitchenware. Bells from the many churches in the city mark the passage of time. Pistoia is off the beaten track for tourists. It’s a great place to visit if you want to mingle with Italians who live comfortably in the present while surrounded by the past. The city and neighboring towns are also home to a number of historic organs, most of them from the 18th and early 19th centuries.¹

Giuseppe Gherardeschi

A brief biography in the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians² states that Gherardeschi was an organist, composer, and eventually maestro di cappella at the cathedral; except for a brief period of study in Naples, he spent his entire life in Pistoia. He began his musical studies with his father, Domenico (1733–1800), who was maestro di cappella at the cathedral, and continued with his uncle, Filippo Maria (1738–1808). The latter, also a Pistoia native, had been a pupil of Giovanni Battista (a.k.a. ‘Padre’) Martini³ in Bologna from 1756 to about 1761, when Filippo was admitted to the elite Accademia Filarmonica. Giuseppe completed his formal studies with Nicola Sala at the Conservatorio di Santa Maria della Pietà dei Turchini, one of three music conservatories in Naples. Upon returning to Pistoia, he married, fathered seven children, and became organist at the church of Santa Maria dell’Umiltà. When Domenico Gherardeschi died in 1800, Giuseppe inherited his position as maestro di cappella at the cathedral, a post he held until his death. In the tradition of the Bachs and Couperins and other families of musicians at the time, Giuseppe’s son, Luigi (1791–1871), and grandson, Gherardo (1835–1905), succeeded him. The Gherardeschi men all composed sacred vocal and instrumental music, much of which survives in the cathedral archives. Giuseppe did not confine himself to music for the church, however; five symphonies, all in the three-movement fast-slow-fast pattern favored by Giovanni Battista Sammartini and other 18th-century Italian composers, survive, as do numerous arias, chamber music, and oratorios.⁴

Umberto Pineschi’s edition of 

Gherardeschi’s organ works

That we know anything at all about the life and music of Giuseppe
Gherardeschi—and consequently, about the contemporary Tuscan organ—is due to the almost single-handed efforts of Umberto Pineschi. Organist, teacher, scholar, founder of the Gherardeschi Organ Academy, and now in “retirement” Director of the Scuola Comunale di Musica e Danza “Teodulo Mabellini” in Pistoia, Pineschi has worked tirelessly to locate, preserve, and restore organs in and around Pistoia. He edited the organ works of Gherardeschi for publication beginning in 1978. The first collection was followed by a second, third, and fourth, but as he confesses in the foreword to the newest edition (in Musiche Pistoiesi per Organo, published by the Fondazione Accademia di Musica Italiana per Organo in 2009), there was “no organized plan, since every time only the pieces considered interesting at the moment were selected.” Further, he adds, “Their context, often crucial for their understanding, was not taken in[to] account. Such a fragmented presentation of the Gherardeschi organ works did not allow one to fully appreciate both their lesson on the Pistoiese organ and the artistic relevance of the composer.”⁵ Pineschi here refers to the symbiotic relationship between organ music and the instruments for which it was written, in this case Pistoiese organs of the 18th and early 19th centuries. These deficiencies are addressed in the new edition, which is the basis for the discussion that follows.  

The present volume brings together all of Gherardeschi’s known compositions for organ, including some that have never been published. The pieces appear in the same order as in the manuscripts. Pineschi identifies several groupings by genre: 1. Sonatas; 2. Masses in C and D (Offertorio, Elevazione, and Postcommunio) and a Mass in E-flat that has versets for alternatim performance with the Ordinary; 3. Collections of versets; 4. Miscellaneous short pieces, including a colorful Sonata per organo a guisa di banda militare che suona una Marcia, two pastorales, and a fugue in G minor. Each piece has been assigned an opus number (a P followed by a number). Strict classification according to this scheme is impossible, however, since two of the sonatas (P.IV [1787]) are rondos and a number of the Mass movements (the Elevazione in D, P.I,5; the Offertorio in C, P.I,7) are sonatas. Elements of secular genres, including the concerto, aria, and symphony, also define and shape these pieces in a manner surely intended to entertain as well as sanctify the listeners.

Since the purpose of this article is to present an overview, rather than a comprehensive discussion, of Gherardeschi’s works, representative examples from each of the categories above will highlight important stylistic features of the music and the organs for which they were written, beginning with the sonatas. These all conform to the binary form and tonal design of the 18th-century keyboard sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti and others.

Offertorio, Mass in C: 

a representative work

The Offertory in an organ Mass is generally longer and more elaborate than other movements because it provides music during the preparation of the Eucharist. Gherardeschi takes advantage of these large dimensions by writing the Offertorio from the Mass in C as a sonata. The movement begins assertively with strong tonic chords in the left hand against clearly articulated right-hand rhythms in a 4-bar phrase. This antecedent phrase is answered by a consequent phrase in a reduced texture and registration, much like a dialogue between the tutti and solo parts of a concerto (Example 1). Indeed, Gherardeschi’s registration directions support this impression: initially, he calls for ‘[ri-]pieno con Trombe (trumpet)’ and ‘Timp[ano]’ in the pedal, which would be the equivalent of a full orchestra. The second phrase is labeled ‘p[ieno] senza ripieno [i.e., without the Trombe] e senza ped[ale]’. Without the trumpet (soloist) and pedal + timpani, the effect is of an echo. This alternation continues throughout both sections of the Offertorio. The texture is open, treble-dominated, and non-contrapuntal; occasional octaves in the manuals add a bit of dramatic emphasis at times. Harmonically, the music is predictable, with the first (A) section ending in the dominant key of G major. The B section opens in G minor, however, and moves to d, a, and F before returning via the dominant G to C.  

The energy, rhythmic drive, clear tonal design, and concerted style of the Offertorio reveal how steeped
Gherardeschi was in the music of Corelli, Vivaldi, and Sammartini. Written at the end of the 18th century, as Vienna and Paris were eclipsing Italy in the development of instrumental music, these pieces remind the listener of the connections among the various schools.

The concerto and symphony are not the only models for this music, however. Pineschi observes that the influence of opera and the theatre is clear in the Masses: “Indeed, the Offertori show the influence of the overture, the Elevazioni and the Benedizioni that of the romanza, while the Postcommunio echoes the always attractive spirit of the cabaletta; all, however, display whimsy, balanced proportions, and, above all, good taste.”⁶  

In fact, two of the three Masses in the collection, those in D and C, consist of exactly these movements, that is, Offertorio-Elevazione-Postcomunio. In modern usage, these may stand alone or be played in concert as a group of fast-slow-fast movements. The remaining Mass, in E-flat, is more complex because of versetti that alternate with chant. The Table of Mass movements summarizes the shape and content of the Messa in Elafá. One observes immediately the variety of tempos, meters, and registrations Gherardeschi uses in the versetti. The last aspect is the most important, for it tells us a great deal about the late 18th-century and early 19th-century Tuscan organ in general and the Pistoiese organ in particular. In this regard, the Mass resembles the other sets of versetti in the collection, all of which specify different stops as solos or in combinations.  

Registration

Gherardeschi frequently calls for “organo aperto” in his music. This means the complete Ripieno (Principale 8′, Ottava 4′, Decimaquinta 2′, Decimanona 11⁄3′, and two or three high-pitched ranks combined, the Vigesima seconda e sesta [1′, 2⁄3′] or seconda, sesta e nona [1′, 2⁄3′, ½′]), plus the Trombe (trumpet) 8′ and Cornetto.⁷ This combination, the equivalent of a full organ without flute stops, produces a clear and brilliant but not overpoweringly loud sound. “Pieno” refers to the complete or partial (i.e., 8′, 4′, 2′) Ripieno (Gherardeschi does not specify which). All the other combinations in the Messa call for specific principal and ‘da concerto’, i.e., solo, stops, including some divided stops (Musetto treble 8′; Clarone bass 4′; Trombe bass 8′). Stops divided between bass and treble registers have been a feature of Italian organs since at least 1664, when the Flemish Jesuit, Willem Hermans, built an organ for the church of Sant’Ignazio di Loyola (known in later times as “Spirito Santo” and since 1 February 2011, again as Sant’Ignazio) in Pistoia.⁸ They are advantageous on a small organ. In Pineschi’s words, “Gherardeschi’s clever use of the divided stops allows one to casually move from the bass section of the keyboard to the treble section and the other way round in such a way that the listener has no time to realize that.”⁹ He might have added that Gherardeschi must have possessed uncommon dexterity, given the lack of mechanical aids for registration changes and the fact that many of these occur in the middle of a piece. Perhaps he employed an assistant, maybe his son Luigi as organist-in-training. Pineschi suggests that these directions to change or add divided stops (which always occur at cadence points) reflect spontaneous changes made by Gherardeschi when he was improvising, as experienced organists did; the written version is for organists who were not as skilled or experienced in the art of improvisation.¹⁰

Of course, Gherardeschi’s registrations reflect and reinforce the character of individual versetti in the Messa; rhythms, tempos, and styles complete the picture. The first and last Gloria verses are of particular interest because they are cast as marches in duple meter with an abundance of dotted rhythms, repeated chords, triadic openings, trumpet-like solo lines, and liberal use of a “special effect” Timpano stop (from two to six wooden pipes, out of tune in such a way as to give a kettle-drum effect, operated by a pedal played by the right foot). The first Gloria verse begins with a fanfare in the manual accompanied by pedal and Timpano. In measure 5, another special effect (also played with the right foot), the Usignoli (Nightingale) stop, appears alternately with the timpani to simulate the trills of a clarinet¹¹ (Example 2a). Marches, whether for military bands or in concert music, were a common and popular musical genre in the 18th century.¹² As such, they connoted heroism, vigor, cheerfulness, and manliness.¹³ Gherardeschi was not the first composer to set the “Et in terra pax” couplet to a march; François Couperin had done that 100 years earlier in his Messe pour les couvents.¹⁴ Undoubtedly, the triumphal, affirmative nature of the text is a determining factor in the choice of musical style, but in the Messa there is more to the matter. Napoleon invaded Italy in 1790, defeating the Austrian army. The next 15 years were tumultuous ones in all the regions of the Italian peninsula, when French-initiated political and social reforms met with strenuous opposition from many Italians and the Church. The return of Austrian rule in 1815 after the Congress of Vienna, repressive as it was, was hailed as a return to order and normality.¹⁵ Gherardeschi composed his music against this backdrop of political turbulence amid constant reminders of a military presence. The Sonata . . . a guisa di banda militare even includes the “Janissary style” derived from Turkish military bands, a type of march in which cymbals, bass drum, and triangle are implied in the instrumentation (Example 2b, see page 28). Marches figured prominently in operas, symphonies,¹⁶ and secular keyboard music in the late 18th century, so it is not surprising to find them in organ music as well.

Versetti

In the preface of this volume, Pineschi lists the versetti as a third group after the sonatas and Masses. These works, though individually brief, are the most numerous and perhaps the most important for what they tell us about the Pistoiese organ of the time. There are two types of versetti, distinguished by their registrations. Versetti a pieno require the
[ri-]pieno, or full, sound, with only a tempo indicated at the beginning (the registration is implied) (Example 3a); versetti concertati require use of the ‘da concerto’ stops and have specific registrations provided at the beginning of each piece (Example 3b). From these, we learn the tonal design of the organs for which
Gherardeschi wrote his music.¹⁷ The ‘da concerto’ versetti are also labeled ‘solenni’, referring to their intended liturgical use in the Mass or other services, especially the Office of Vespers (e.g., the Magnificat). Versetti are written in all eight psalm tones, as one would expect. Interestingly, the versetti a pieno, P.II, are only figured basses; the organist must realize them in performance. Obviously this Baroque musical shorthand was still proving useful at the beginning of the 19th century.

Organs

Specifications for four organs that
Gherardeschi would have known appear in the preface to the Opere per organo. The first, by Hermans, was the prototype for the rest, which were built in the 1780s and ’90s by Antonio and Filippo Tronci and Pietro Agati. These instruments have been preserved and restored in Pistoia and Lucca. A similar organ built by Luigi and Benedetto Tronci in 1793 has been in the Cathedral in Pistoia since Pineschi rescued it from the chapel of the Rucellai villa, Campi Bisenzio (a small town between Prato and Florence), in 1998.  This is the instrument I played every day for five days in preparation for the Vespers performance. It is, amazingly, in its original condition. The specifications are as follows (For photos and audio clips of the Hermans and Tronci organs, visit The Diapason website,
Diapason.com>.):

Ripieno stops

Principale 8′ (first eight pipes are wood and play without drawing a stop because they are placed on a separate chest; the remaining pipes are tin, with C2 the major pipe of the façade)¹⁸

Ottava 4′

Decimaquinta 2′

Decimanona 11⁄3′

Vigesima seconda e sesta (1′, 2⁄3′)

‘Da concerto’ stops

Flauto 4′ (from C2)

Cornetto I (soprano 4′, 13⁄5′)

Cornetto II (soprano 22⁄3′)

Voce languente (the same as the Voce umana, soprano 8′)

Special effects: Timpano, Usignoli

Manual compass: 47 notes, C1–D5 with short octave at the bottom)

Pedals: eight notes (C–G), short octave, always coupled to manual

Divided registers between E3 and F3

As other writers have observed, having the ranks of the ripieno available as single stops (rather than as a multi-rank mixture stop) presents a multitude of registrational choices, many of which are subtly different. I enjoyed getting to know the sounds of all the stops individually and in various combinations. The Tronci keyboard has a uniform and light touch perfectly suited to the lively, graceful lines of 18th-century music. Using the short octave on both manual and pedal requires re-patterning of both cognitive and muscle memory. (What usually feels like a fifth is now a second, for example.) The short pedals are also quite different; one hardly needs organ shoes to play them, since only toes are used—heels remain on the floor. To sum up, playing an instrument like this, so different from a modern organ, requires total concentration, since all the senses—visual, auditory, kinesthetic—are involved in sometimes unfamiliar ways.

I hope this brief introduction—to the music of a composer who, in his own lifetime, was well known and highly respected in Tuscany, and to one of the organs he could have known—will encourage interest in both topics. This delightful, lively, and lovely music deserves to be better known on this side of the Atlantic. At present, the Opere per organo is only available from the editor, Umberto Pineschi, at . It is well worth the effort to obtain the book.

In 2015 there are several composers whose anniversaries can be commemorated, albeit some of the dates are not known for certain; some of the names need no introduction but there are also several lesser-known names listed here whose compositions are well worth exploring. No claim is made for completeness and there is no guarantee that every edition is in print—there may well also be editions by other publishers.

Christopher Gibbons (1615–76).Eldest surviving son of Orlando Gibbons, he was organist of the Chapel Royal and Westminster Abbey; only a few compositions for keyboard survive in various manuscripts, comprising two short pieces (corrente and saraband) for harpsichord, four verses or voluntaries and three verses or double voluntaries (i.e. requiring two manuals for their execution), with passages for solos on Cornet, Sesquialtera, and Trumpet. Some versions of these double voluntaries seem to have been considerably amended and elongated by the scribe. All nine pieces have been re-edited by John Caldwell for American Institute of Musicology’s Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series (CEKM 18). 

Spiridionis a Monte Carmelo (1615–85). German organist, who traveled widely in Belgium, Germany, and Prague before taking a position in Bamberg in 1664. He composed sacred music and also published a two-volume keyboard tutor, Nova instructio pro pulsandis organis, spinettis, manuchordiis, in Bamberg, of which the first part, which appeared in 1670, contained a very large number of cadences, 35 canzonas, and 15 dances including corrente, and the second part, which appeared the following year, contains mainly cadenzas, as well as ten canzonettas, seven toccatinas, two gagliardas, and four corrente. Part three contains more formulas for cadentiae followed by ligaturae and trilli; part four contains the actuarium for parts one and two, an aria, allemanda, sarabanda, and modus variandi. A modern edition by Edoardo Bellotti of parts one and two has been published by Andromeda. Parts three and four have also been edited by Bellotti and published by Il Levante, obtainable via La Stanza della Musica, Rome (www.lastanzadellamusica.com).

Gregorio Strozzi (ca. 1615–after 1687). Organist in Naples and doctor in both civil and canon law, in addition to sacred works he left a Capricci da sonare cembali et organi, published in open score in Naples in 1687, which is indebted to Trabaci, Mayone, and Frescobaldi, its 31 pieces covering the main compositional genres of the time including three capriccios, three ricercatas, three sonatas, four toccatas, two balletti, three gagliardas, three sets of variations, eight correntes, a mascara, and a Toccata de passacagli. This important print has been re-edited by Barton Hudson for American Institute of Musicology in the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series (CEKM 11).

Heinrich Bach (1615–92). Great uncle of Johann Sebastian and organist in Arnstadt, almost all of his compositions in various genres have unfortunately been lost. He was the father of Johann Christoph and Johann Michael Bach, who also became composers. For keyboard he left a Chaconne in A, edited by Laura Cerutti for Armelin, and two chorale preludes, on Erbarm dich mein and Da Jesu an dem Kreuze stund, included in Organ Works by the Bach Family, edited by Diethard Hellmann for Edition Peters.

Tarquinio Merula (ca. 1594–1665). Organist and violinist active mainly in Cremona, he published a number of sacred concertos, Mass and psalm settings, as well as madrigals and ensemble canzonas. Fourteen keyboard works have survived in manuscripts, including a chromatic Capriccio and Sonata, the former based on the chromatic tetrachord, the latter on a figure covering a major ninth by semitone (!), although many subsequent entries are limited to the tetrachord. There are three intonazioni cromatiche (which may well be incorrectly attributed), a toccata (which contains a fugal section sandwiched between sections akin to Merula’s toccatas but lacking his inventiveness), a capriccio with an insistent rhythmic figure and much sequential writing, and five canzonas, of which the first, an arrangement of his ensemble piece La Loda, has basic similarities to the capriccio, and the second is based on an intriguing sequence of four descending broken triads. The next three canzone have been attributed tentatively to Merula, no. 3 being a version of his ensemble Canzona La Marca. All of these pieces together with a cromatica by Soncino and a  canzona by Fasolo have been edited by Alan Curtis and published by L’Organo, Brescia, as Monumenti di Musica Italiana Series 1, Organo e Cembalo, vol. 1, available from Armelin. There is also a reprint by Kalmus, which lacks the introduction. 

Wolfgang Ebner (1612–1665). Organist of St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna, and court organist, contemporary with Froberger. Three works certainly by him include three toccatas, a courante, a Capriccio sopra L’aria Pergamasco, the Partite sopra l’Aria Favorita with seven variations, and the 36 variations divided into three groups of 12 (the second and third groups being in the form of a courante and sarabande) on an Aria in A Minor composed by Ferdinand III. Works of uncertain authenticity include 56 versets encompassing various forms (i.e. toccata, capriccio, fugue in the eight church modes), eight of which are variants of pieces by Froberger and one by Frescobaldi, two preludes, a partita in A, and eight individual dance movements. Published by Bärenreiter in 2 volumes, edited by Siegbert Rampe, the publication also includes keyboard works by Georg Muffat. 

Nikolaus Bruhns (1665–97). Pupil of Buxtehude, he became organist in Husum in 1689. Comparatively well known to players today, particularly for his preludes in E minor, Bruhns was also a highly skilled violinist who, according to undoubtedly reliable contemporary accounts, accompanied his violin playing at the organ by a bass played with great dexterity on the pedals. None of his organ works were printed in his lifetime, and no autograph manuscripts have survived. His small opus survived in a virtually unbroken transmission in both manuscripts of the 18th century and printed editions from the 19th forward. He wrote chamber music, which regrettably has not survived, and 12 cantatas, and left four brilliant praeludia for organ in manuscripts—multi-sectional, and clearly showing the influence of his teacher as well as echo devices. A highly ornamented Chorale Fantasia on Nun komm der Heiden Heiland also shows continuation of the North German tradition of Scheidemann, Reincken, and Tunder. Modern editions, which also include an adagio and a praeludium, of which only fragments survive, have been prepared by Klaus Beckmann, published by Schott in the series Masters of the North German School vol. 13, and also edited by Harald Vogel for Breitkopf & Hartel.

Johann Hanff (1665–1712). Organist in Hamburg and Schleswig, only three of his cantatas and six chorale preludes survive in manuscripts. Five of the preludes are in a similar style to Buxtehude’s, with highly ornamented melodies in the right hand, but in Erbarm dich mein two verses are set, the second verse opening with a fugue based on the descending chromatic fourth before reverting to a right hand solo of the ornamented melody. They have been edited by Ewald Kooiman for Harmonia Uitgave, Incognita Organo Part 7. 

Johann Fischer (ca. 1665–1746). Kapellmeister to Ludwig Wilhelm of Baden, he published chamber and vocal music. His keyboard works include four sets of pieces, comprising two sets of suites for harpsichord/clavichord in 1696 and 1738, which show the French influence, and two sets of pieces for the organ, which show a more Italianate influence. Musikalischer Blumenstrauss of 1732 is a collection of pieces on the eight tones comprising a praeludium, six fugues, and finale for each tone. Ariadne Musica, of 1702 and 1715, contains 20 short preludes and fugues, each in a different key (including B, E-flat, and A-flat major, B, F#, and C# minor), which were known to J. S. Bach, who used some of the subjects in his Well-Tempered Clavier, and five ricercars on hymns for Advent, Christmas, Quadragesima, Passiontide, and Easter. 

The complete keyboard music has been edited by Ernst von Werra for Breitopf & Hartel. The Ariadne has been edited by Ernst Kaller for Schott as Liber Organi vol. 7 and the Musikalischer Blumenstrauss by Rudolph Walter for Musikverlag Alfred Coppenrath, Altötting as Süddeutsche Orgelmeister des Barock vol. 1, available through Carus Verlag. Facsimile editions have been published by Broude Bros in the Performers’ Facsimiles series nos. 197 (Ariadne) and 199 (Musikalischer Blumenstrauss). 

Johann Molter (1696–1765). German organist in Eisenach and Karlsruhe whose comprehensive works embrace all genres. Six chorale arrangements have been edited by Siegbert Rampe for Bärenreiter in German Organ and Keyboard Music from Bach’s Period.

Xarava y Bruna (ca. 1640–1715).Nephew of Pablo Bruna. Two pieces by him, an Ydea Vuena por a la mi re and fuga, and an Obra en lleno de 3 Tono (a tiento accidental found in the Jaca manuscript is a short version of the fuga), are to be found in one of the Martín y Coll manuscripts, and have been edited by Julian Sagasta for Union Musical Española in Tonos de Palacio y Canciones Communes vol. 2, and by Carlo Stella and Vittorio Vinay for Zanibon in Composizioni Inedite dal ‘Flores de Musica’ di Antonio Martin y Coll. 

Georg Wagenseil (1715–77). Organist and composer to the court in Vienna, he composed operas, chamber music, concerti, and organ and harpsichord music. Although considered as one of the most important Viennese composers of the 18th century, very few of his many keyboard works have been published, and conspicuous by their absence are the organ works, including 97 versets in various tones, a cycle of Praeambula and Versets on the Eight Tones, and numerous other individual pieces. Five pieces have been edited by Erich Benedikt and included in Viennese Organ Music from around 1750 published by Doblinger as DM1335 in the Diletto Musicale series, including a praeludium on the 1st and on the 2nd tones, a Fuga in D Minor, a piece titled Das Glockengeläut zu Rom dem Vatican (in C minor), and an Andante in D minor taken from the third Divertimento of opus 1, better perhaps suited to stringed keyboard instruments. 

James Nares (1715–83). Became organist of York Minster in 1735. In addition to much sacred music including services and secular vocal music, he left several publications for keyboard including two sets of lessons for harpsichord and a set of six fugues with introductory voluntaries for organ or harpsichord, which are available in a modern edition by Greg Lewin as well as in facsimile from Oxford University Press. Only nos. 1, 3, and 5 are preceded by an introduction. Also available in facsimile from Oxford University Press is Il Principio, or A Regular Introduction to Playing on the harpsichord or Organ, which gives basic information on ornamentation and fingering followed by a graduated series of pieces.

Georg Reichardt (1715–89). Pupil of Jakob Adlung. His Sechs fugierte Orgeltrios have been edited by Rudolph Walter for Hänssler Verlag and are available from Carus Verlag. 

Charles-Joseph van Helmont (1715–90). Organist in Brussels, he composed a large quantity of sacred vocal music including Masses and motets and a much smaller amount of secular vocal music. His keyboard works comprise the Pièces de clavecin of 1737, which include two suites, the pieces of which have French titles. The first suite and four fugues have been edited by J. Watelet and published by Vereniging voor Muziekgeschiedenis te Antwerpen in 1948 as Monumenta Musicae Belgicae vol. 6 (also contains pieces by Dieudonné Raick), with the second set edited by Laura Cerutti for Armelin, with a facsimile edition published by Anne Fuzeau. The complete set of Six Fugues has been edited by Jan Vanmol for Calcant.

Johann Doles (1715–97). Pupil of Bach in Leipzig, where he became Kantor, he composed much sacred and secular vocal music, harpsichord sonatas, and some chorale preludes, of which four pieces from the fifth volume of Singbare und leichte Choralvorspiele has been edited by Eberhard Hofmann for Musica Rinata in Orgelpräludien vom Barock zur Klassik. 

John Alcock Sr. (1715–1806). Organist at Lichfield Cathedral from 1750 until 1765, and thereafter at Sutton Coldfield and Tamworth, he composed sacred choral music, numerous secular vocal works, Six Suites of Easy Lessons and a Trumpet Tune for the harpsichord, which has been edited by Richard Jones and published by the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, as Easier Piano Pieces (vol. 15), and a set of Ten Voluntaries for the Organ or Harpsichord, a new edition of which has been edited and published by Greg Lewin.

Carlmann Kolb (1703–65). Organist of the community of Asbach and priest, he left a sinfonia for harpsichord and strings and the Certamen aonium published in 1733, a set of pieces on the eight tones, including a fairly expansive prelude, 3 fugal verses in a variety of styles and meters, and a toccata-like cadenza. Some of the preludes, particularly the third, are almost extravagantly eccentric in their modulations and dramatic rests. Modern editions by Rudolf Walter for Musikverlag Alfred Coppenrath, Altötting as Süddeutsche Orgelmeister des Barock vol. 5, available through Carus Verlag, and by Gregor Klaus for Willy Müller Süddeutscher Musikverlag, available from Bärenreiter.

Jose Ferrer (1745–1815). Organist in various Spanish cathedrals, including Oviedo, he composed mainly secular and chamber music. Seven sonatas for keyboard by him are preserved in a manuscript now in Zaragoza, and a further six have been attributed to him on stylistic grounds, although as no. 8 is by Domenico Scarlatti, it may well be that further pieces are by other composers. Many of the sonatas are far better suited to stringed keyboard instruments but nos. 9–11 sound well on the organ. All 13 sonatas have been edited as Sonatas para Clave by Dionisio Preciado and published by Real Musical, Madrid, as Teclado Espanol Siglo XVIII, vol. 1. No. 2 in G minor and a further Sonata in C Minor, both taken from MS 1665 at Montserrat, are included in Early Spanish keyboard music: an anthology—Vol. 3, The eighteenth century, edited by Barry Ife and Roy Truby for Oxford University Press.

Pietro Morandi (1745–1815). After studying with Padre Martini in Bologna he worked in Pergola and Senigallia cathedrals. He composed sacred and secular vocal and damatic music and also left 12 Concerti per L’Organo solo, with instructions for registration, and twenty sonatas and sinfonias, all of which have been edited in four volumes by Maurizio Machella for Armelin. 

Giuseppe Gherardeschi (1759–1815). Organist in Pistoia, first of S. Maria dell Umiltà and then the cathedral, he composed much sacred vocal music and several sonatas for harpsichord or fortepiano plus violin and also concerti. His numerous organ compositions, which include versetti, offertorios, elevazioni, sonatas, and rondos, contain precise instructions for registration, including drum pedals and toy stops such as the Uccello. Many have been edited by Umberto Pineschi in Musiche pistoiesi per organo (Biblioteca Classica dell’Organista, vol. M05 and M06), Antologia del Settecento organistico pistoiese (Biblioteca Classica dell’Organista, vol. 19), Musiche d’organo a Pistoia (Biblioteca Classica dell’Organista, vol. 30); Letteratura organistica toscana dal XVII al XIX secolo (Accademia di musica italiana per organo, Pistoia). Some twenty pieces have been edited by Maurizio Machella in two volumes for Armelin as L’organo Italiano nell’Ottocento (OIO 222 and OIO 223). An official download of Gherardeschi’s complete organ works, together with many other pieces from the Pistoia cathedral archives, is available from www.accademiagherardeschi.it/eng-partiture.php?id_sezione=6 for a payment of 10 Euros.

Domenico Puccini (1772–1815). organist in Lucca and grandfather of the famous opera composer, he composed both sacred and secular vocal music, as well as operas. He left 42 one-movement sonatas for organ in manuscripts, which have been edited in four volumes by Maurizio Machella for Armelin. A further volume contains sonatas for violin with accompaniment for organ or fortepiano. 

An increasing number of pieces, ranging from complete original publications/manuscripts (which present the usual problems of multiple clefs as well as original printer’s errors) to modern versions of complete or individual works, are to be found on various free download sites, most noticeably IMSLP; however, the accuracy of some modern typesettings is highly questionable, and all should be treated with caution before use. 

Publishers’ websites 

American Institute of Musicology—CEKM series:
www.corpusmusicae.com/cekm.htm 

Armelin: www.armelin.it

Associated Board: shop.abrsm.org

Bärenreiter: www.baerenreiter.com  

Breitkopf & Hartel:  www.breitkopf.com  

Broude Bros: www.broude.us 

Calcant: www.janvanmol.be 

Carus Verlag: www.carus-verlag.com 

Doblinger Verlag: www.doblinger-verlag.at

Fuzeau: www.editions-classique.com     

Greg Lewin Music: www.greglewin.co.uk

Monumenta Musicae Belgicae: www.dbnl.org 

Musica Rinata: www.berliner-chormusik-verlag.de

OUP: ukcatalogue.oup.com/category/music.do 

Schott Music: www.schott-music.com 

Those attending the Italian Festival of Music at The University of Michigan enjoyed a good portion of Mediterranean musical sunshine during the second weekend of spring. The event featured presentations by Martha Folts and Keith Sadko, a masterclass with Italian organist Umberto Pineschi,and recitals by Sadko and Pineschi. The festival took place in the Blanche Anderson Moore Hall of the School of Music with its 27-stop Marilyn Mason Organ built by Fisk. For the harpsichord performances, Dr. Folts brought her two-manual instrument built by Keith Hill.

Martha Folts, a recent University of Michigan graduate, opened the festival with a Saturday noon lecture about "Frescobaldi's Preface" of 1615. With explanations, examples,and demonstrations, she provided a three-point distillation of Frescobaldi's ideas:  1)Flexibility of beat and tempo; 2) Sonority:  keeping the sound of the harpsichord alive; and 3) Clarity of sections. Dr. Folts capped her lecture with a suave and convincing Frescobaldi Toccata performance.

Maestro Pineschi's masterclass began with two harpsichord students of U of M Professor Edward Parmentier.  Tami Morse played a Canzona by Frescobaldi; Leonard Kim rendered a Toccata by the same composer. Dr. Pineschi pointed out that the canzona originated as a sung polyphonic form which the Italian composers then transferred to instruments. Hence, the canzona should remain mostly in rhythm.  The toccatas of course are quite another story. Here, the composer called for much freedom and expression.  Pineschi advised reaching for the "big pillars" of the toccata with significant freedom in between. He suggested close study of the works of Froberger, a Frescobaldi student, who wrote out far more ornamentation than his teacher did. Pineschi also remarked that the works of North German composer Buxtehude sound quite "exultant" when played with a Frescobaldi approach.

Organ students James Wagner and David Saunders, both from Marilyn Mason's studio, then performed works by Michelangelo Rossi and Frescobaldi respectively. Pineschi commented that the intense chromaticism of Rossi reflected the Baroque predilection for shocking effects. Returning to Frescobaldi, he reiterated the importance of studying the composer's own writings about the performance. Thus, a rest often needs to be stretched to create tension, consecutive trills and passaggi should receive varied treatment, and judicious application of the Lombard rhythm can enhance passages with eighth notes against sixteenths.

The Saturday activities culminated in Mr. Sadko's recital on the Fisk organ which he dedicated to his late teacher, Eugen Friedl Gmeiner, himself a onetime pupil of Marilyn Mason. Sadko, a former faculty member of the Mabellini School of Music in Pistoia, Italy, entitled the performance: "Bach the Italian." Works by Bach such as the Concerto in a minor, the Canzona, the Sonata IV, and the Passacaglia were juxtaposed with related compositions of Frescobaldi and Andrea Gabrieli.  While Mr. Sadko disclaimed any proof that the Kantor of Leipzig knew the specific Italian pieces on the program, the similarities were certainly striking.

On Sunday afternoon, Dr. Pineschi  presented an unusual and challenging program.  He began with Frescobaldi's majestic Toccata sesta sopra i pedali (Book II) followed by his Toccata undecima (Book I).  Cantors David Saunder and Christopher Meerdink, both U of M doctoral students, joined the maestro in alternatim to the versets from the same composer's Messa della Domenica. Pineschi's registrations ex-ploited the various flue stops of the Silbermann-influenced Fisk. The one-fifth comma modified mean tone tuning of the organ also added much color to the music, making the dissonance more striking and the consonance more stable.

For the final work on the program, the performer and his cantors tackled the anonymous Messa in quinto tuono from the mid-eighteenth century.  Here, as in the preceding selections, Maestro Pineschi's decisive playing ranged from forceful and brilliant in the Toccate to peaceful and serene in the Elevazioni. The recital, and the festival ended in grand style with Pineschi drawing even the 16¢ reed in the pedal for the final movement. 

--James Wagner

Graduate Student Instructor and doctoral student in organ,

The University of Michigan

We were so pleased to have Umberto Pineschi with us during our Italian Festival. Maestro Pineschi is a natural teacher. His comments were directed not only to the performer, but to the entire class. His observations and suggestions were general enough so that they could apply to the situation, but yet meant a lot to the class as a whole. He did not just teach the one student—he taught the whole class.This is what a master class should be—as opposed to a private lesson.

 --Marilyn Mason

Faculty, The University of Michigan

The sights and sounds of Italy offer more inspiration than any score or treatise—they provide clues about the spirit of the music, where words and musical notation fall miserably short

What if I told you that there is surviving Italian organ music as splendid as Giovanni Gabrieli’s In Ecclesiis and as ethereal as Gregorio Allegri’s Miserere? A few months ago, I would not have believed it either. In fact, I was under the impression that compared to Italy’s glorious tradition of ensemble music, its organ music was of lesser importance, and its historical organs were pretty but small. On paper, every instrument looked the same—a single manual, one octave of pull-down pedals, and a stoplist consisting of a principal chorus (the Ripieno), a flute or two, and perhaps a Voce Umana.¹ Three months of studying organ in Italy with Francesco Cera radically changed my mind. I went intending to obtain a more complete picture of early organ music, having already spent time in France, Holland, and Germany. I left in love with a magnificent collection of keyboard music.  

My change of heart began not with the music but with the art and architecture of Italy. The entire country is like a giant open-air museum. Visitors can enter and experience the very places where Gabrieli, Frescobaldi, and so many others made music. That they were inspired by their surroundings is impossible to contest. These places are by definition inspiring. They were designed by the world’s greatest architects and filled with art by the greatest sculptors and painters from anonymous Roman masters to Pinturicchio, Raffaello, Michelangelo, Bernini, Tintoretto, and many others. Elaborate organ cases are among the most striking architectural features of many Italian churches and palace chapels. I began to realize that such glorious spaces where the organ had so much visual importance simply must have resounded with impressive organ playing. 

The instruments themselves also provided indisputable proof. They were far from boring. Though their stoplists were similar, their tonal character varied widely from region to region in a way that perfectly complemented the art and architecture of the area. What of the music that survived for these instruments? At first glance, it seemed simple to me, appeared not to require pedals, and certainly seemed an inappropriate choice for performance on modern instruments. Fortunately, all of this was only an illusion created by a style of musical notation that left many crucial interpretive decisions to the discretion of the performer, who would have been familiar with the contemporary musical style and performance practices. I learned why an understanding and appreciation of historical art, architecture, and instruments and a knowledge of the surviving repertoire and treatises are so crucial for today’s performer.  

Early Italian keyboard music is most successful when its interpretation is informed by historical sources and inspired by the conviction that it is the aural representation of Italy’s breathtaking visual splendor. Italy’s art, architecture, and music can be organized into regional schools based in four of Italy’s most historically important cities: Venice and Florence in the north, Rome in central Italy, and Naples in the south. Allow me to share some of the highlights of my journey to discover their art, historical organs, and keyboard music. 

Venetian Splendor 

Today, the city of Venice continues to exist mainly because of the tourists. Many of the locals have moved to the mainland. Nevertheless, the city’s colorful vibrancy and the remnants of its former grandeur are very evident. The reds, oranges, and yellows of the houses and shops, the green of the canals, the aquamarine of the lagoon, and the glistening white of the church façades are a feast for the eyes. Appropriately, Venice’s painters—Titian, Tintoretto and others—are famed for their use of color and the way that light seems to shine from within their paintings. Of the city’s 114 churches, the Basilica Cattedrale di San Marco is the most famous (Figure 1). One of the finest examples of Byzantine architecture, its exterior is covered with inlaid marble and carvings, while its interior glows with gilded mosaics. Besides its breathtaking opulence, the sheer size of the cathedral is impressive. Remarkably, at the time of Claudio Merulo (1533–1604), Andrea Gabrieli (1533–1585), and the rest of the illustrious line of musicians who worked here, San Marco was not a cathedral, but the private chapel of the Doge of Venice, and Venice was one of the richest and most important cities in the world! My impression of Venetian organ music changed completely when I examined it through the lens of Venice’s vibrant color palette and astounding splendor.

Organs of Northern Italy

The organs of northern Italy are characterized by their cantabile tone. Some also have much more colorful stoplists than organs in other parts of Italy. In 2006, Giorgio Carli completed the restoration of the 1565 Graziadio Antegnati organ of the Basilica di Santa Barbara, the private chapel of the duke of Mantua.  The organ’s case is beautiful. Its richly painted doors contrast with the white walls of the chapel. This instrument was built under the direction of organist and composer Girolamo Cavazzoni (1520–1577). Its 16′ plenum is glowing rather than brilliant, perfect for Cavazzoni’s music, which is closely related to choral polyphony. As was the norm in Italy until the 18th century, the organ is tuned in mean-tone temperament, but the keyboard has split keys (Figure 2), allowing the player to choose between D# and Eb and between G# and Ab, thus enabling one to play in many more tonalities and to better imitate the pure intonation that a vocal ensemble is able to achieve. The keyboard and pedalboard both have particularly long compasses, the keyboard from C to F5 and the pedalboard from C to A2. The music of Marc’Antonio Cavazzoni (1485–1550), Girolamo’s father, demands such a compass. This long key compass also permits the organist to play in different octaves, using the 16′ Principale at 8′ pitch, for example. The winding of this organ is a special treat. Rather than supplying an electric blower, Giorgio Carli installed an automatic bellow lifter to pump the bellows. This allows the player to experience the wonderful flexibility of playing on pumped wind without the trouble of hiring a person to pump the bellows.  

Near Mantua, in the Chiesa di San Tommaso Cantuariense in Verona, stands a well-preserved 18th-century organ built by Giuseppe Bonatti in 1716. It is a two-manual instrument with an unusually colorful stoplist and a lavish complement of special effects. The main manual controls the Grand Organo—the usual Ripieno plus a Cornetto (in two parts: 4′-22⁄3′ and 2′-13⁄5′), Trombe reali, and two flutes. An exquisitely crafted Regale with rare original parchment resonators mounted on a separate windchest like a Brustwerk is also playable from the main manual. The second manual controls the Organo Piccolo, a tiny 4′ echo division situated behind the player. Other special effects include a chorus of bird stops (Figure 3) and a Tamburo (a stop played by the lowest pedal note that imitates a drum using a cluster of bass pipes). The pedals are permanently coupled to the main manual, but this organ also includes an independent pedal reed and Contrabassi—octave of 16′ wooden pipes. The tone of the organ is sweet and elegant, thanks in part to its comparatively low wind pressure, a common feature of Italian organs. The wind pressure of this Bonatti organ is set at 53–55 mm. By contrast, the wind pressure of the comparably sized 1704 Schnitger organ in Eenum, the Netherlands, is set at 62.5 mm. The tonal variety and elegance of the Bonatti organ make it perfect for 18th-century music, including the music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who, incidentally, played this instrument while on tour in Italy.   

Music of the Venetian and Emilian Schools

The keyboard music of northern Italy reached its peak during the Renaissance. Its focal point was the Basilica di San Marco in Venice. The splendid polychoral tradition of the basilica profoundly influenced the organ music of the Venetian school. Composers of the Venetian school were responsible for some of the most important developments in keyboard composition of both the Renaissance and the Baroque. Marc’Antonio Cavazzoni’s collection, Recerchari, mottetti, canzoni–Libro primo, printed in Venice in 1523, is one of the most important examples of early 16th-century organ music. Cavazzoni was born in Bologna, where he probably received his musical training at the Basilica di San Petronio, and likely knew the famous 1475 Lorenzo da Prato organ there. Later he moved to Venice and was an assistant to Adriano Willaert at San Marco. Cavazzoni’s recerchari are particularly significant, because they are among the earliest free compositions for the organ. These recerchari are majestic pieces written in an improvisatory style. Like later toccatas, they investigate idiomatic keyboard figuration rather than counterpoint. While his father, Marc’Antonio, was a pioneer in developing idiomatic keyboard figuration, Girolamo Cavazzoni, organist at Santa Barbara in Mantua, was a master of imitating vocal polyphony at the keyboard. An understanding of the text of the chants, motets, and chansons on which many of his works are based is absolutely crucial for a successful interpretation.  

Claudio Merulo and Andrea Gabrieli worked together as organists at San Marco. Merulo was renowned and influential during his lifetime. Girolamo Diruta dedicated Il Transilvano, one of the most important treatises on Italian organ music, to him. Merulo’s toccatas were the first to alternate virtuosic and imitative sections, a technique that Frescobaldi and the North German organ school would use later. Also, foreshadowing the Baroque, they often use ornamental figures as motives. Merulo’s music is full of unique written-out trills and diminutions. Studying it is an excellent way to learn how to add ornaments to repertoire of the 16th and early 17th centuries. In comparison, Gabrieli’s music may seem rather subdued, but, in fact, it only lacks the profusion of notated trills. Presumably, Gabrieli would have added these in performance. His Ricercari ariosi are particularly beautiful adaptations of the polychoral style.  

Eighteenth-century Bolognese composer Giovanni Battista Martini (1706–1784) was highly esteemed during his lifetime, and attracted students from around the world. Leopold Mozart even asked his advice concerning the talents of his son. Nevertheless, his surviving compositions do not seem to justify his reputation. They are pleasant but simple pieces in galant style. Consider them in context, however, and the picture changes. The majority of these pieces survive in manuscripts written in Martini’s own hand. They are predominantly written in two-voice structure, but occasional figured bass symbols suggest that they were really sketches, and that the organist was expected to fill out the texture by adding chords. Some of Martini’s Sonate per l’Elevazione survive in both simple and elaborately ornamented forms, exemplifying how he might have actually performed them.² Playing Martini’s music as written is a little like stripping a Baroque church down to bare plaster walls. Far from being easy and uninspiring, these pieces are charming examples of Italian Rococo organ style and exciting vehicles for creativity.

Rome’s Legacy

Rome is sometimes called “the Eternal City.” It displays its long rich history in an abundance of art and architecture (Figure 4). Romans are proud of their heritage. In the past, Rome’s great noble families collected antiquities, displaying them in their palaces. The Farnese collection, now on exhibit in the Naples National Archeological Museum, is particularly impressive evidence that admiration of antiquity dates back at least to the beginning of the 16th century. Many of its more than 300 marble sculptures were unearthed in archeological excavations specifically conducted on behalf of Pope Paul III and other members of the Farnese family. These same noble families and the Roman Catholic Church employed contemporary artists as well, who left masterpieces from every historical era. The poignant perfection of High Renaissance works like Michelangelo’s Pietà in St. Peter’s Basilica, the dramatic lighting and gestures of Baroque treasures like Caravaggio’s Crucifixion of Peter in the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Popolo or Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Theresa in the Chiesa di Santa Maria della Vittoria, and the busy ornamentation of Rococo creations like the organ case of the Werle organ in the Basilica di Sant’Eustachio are all on display. In the churches, clouds of angels surround visitors, while the palaces seek to amaze them with marvels of architecture like Bernini’s and Borromini’s staircases, which compete for attention in the Barberini palace. For me, Rome’s deep appreciation of its long tradition of artistic excellence is the key to understanding the music written there.   

Organs of Central Italy

Only a few of Rome’s Renaissance and Baroque organs survive. As in many large wealthy European cities, pipe organs were replaced as fashions changed. Nevertheless, the smaller towns and villages in central Italy are home to a wealth of unique historical organs. It is far beyond the scope of this article to describe them all—the city of Rieti, where I spent much of my Italian sojourn, alone is home to 14 historical organs in varying states of playability. Let me begin by describing one of the oldest organs in Italy. It was built in 1509 by Paolo di Pietro Paolo da Montefalco, and is located in the Chiesa di San Francesco in Trevi, Umbria (Figure 5). This instrument is priceless for many reasons including its antiquity, its proximity to the birthplace of Girolamo Diruta, the way that it documents the history of organbuilding, and certainly also its beauty. Organbuilder Andrea Pinchi told me how thrilled he was to be given the opportunity to restore this instrument in 2005, having been convinced since he was a teenager that the case in the Chiesa di San Francesco held something very special. When it was first built, the organ consisted of a five-rank Ripieno and a Flauto in ottava.³ In the 17th century, a Flauto in duodecima was added, and in the 18th century the important Umbrian organbuilder Fedeli restored the instrument and added a Voce Umana and Cornetta. Because they reflect the historical development of the organ, these stops were all preserved in the restoration. The sound of this organ is bright and brilliant. The small Ripieno easily fills the sizable Gothic church. Like the Antegnati organ in Mantua, this was an instrument designed to imitate vocal music. Its extremely sensitive key action allows the player to create subtle text-like inflections by varying attacks and releases.

The organs that Frescobaldi played at St. Peter’s have long disappeared, but a splendid 17th-century Roman organ does survive to transport Frescobaldi’s sound world to the present day. The 1612 Giovanni Guglielmi organ in the Chiesa di Santa Maria in Vallicella (Figure 6) was restored by Ruffatti in the year 2000, but it continues to lack the international attention that it deserves. It is a large instrument based on 16′ pitch. The grandeur of the Ripieno is enhanced by many doubled ranks and by a trumpet. I was surprised to learn that a trumpet stop was a common feature of large Roman organs. The 1597 Luca Blasi organ of the Basilica di San Giovanni in Laterano, for example, also includes a trumpet. Perhaps the most eye-opening aspect of the Guglielmi organ is its narrow pipe scaling. The organ’s sound is bright, almost nasal, but crystal clear. It is simply impossible to cover up passagework even with the densest chordal accompaniment. The spectacular case of this instrument is also noteworthy. It is, as it were, created using ornamentation, including two giant sculptures of angels, and the entire case is sumptuously overlaid with gold.⁴ The matching case in the other transept of the church now contains an 1895 Morettini organ, which also merits a visit.

Music of the Roman School

Girolamo Frescobaldi (1583–1643) grew up in Ferrara, home of the great d’Este family. While Frescobaldi was young, many notable composers—including Claudio Monteverdi, Orlando di Lasso, Claudio Merulo, and Carlo Gesualdo—visited court. As a child prodigy studying with court organist Luzzasco Luzzaschi, Frescobaldi absorbed these diverse influences. In his early twenties, he decided to seek his fortune in Rome, and proceeded to write and publish some of the most important music of the 17th century and to pass on his skill to talented students from all over Europe.  

Frescobaldi’s music is like the city of Rome. It glories in tradition while being unafraid of innovation. Walking in the footsteps of Lasso and Palestrina, Frescobaldi composes masterful counterpoint, but juxtaposes it with flamboyant baroque figuration, skillfully incorporating affect figures. In his performance instructions that preface Il primo libro di capricci of 1624,⁵ he explains that in his music the metrical relationships that were so important in Renaissance music are now governed by the mood of the music. His sacred music, including the three Masses of Fiori musicali and the two extended elevation toccatas from his Secondo libro di toccate, is deeply spiritual. Frescobaldi masterfully communicates the meaning of the Mass liturgy into his settings. His elevation toccatas take the listener on a journey through contemplation, sympathy, and ecstasy. Though at first glance Fiori musicali seems like just another book of short pieces, when these pieces are considered together they form imposing Mass settings, and it becomes clear that this collection shares the monumentality of other early Roman Baroque sacred art like the baldacchino that Bernini designed for St. Peter’s Basilica (Figure 7).

Similarly, Bernardo Pasquini’s (1637–1710) music demonstrates both his admiration for the past as well as contemporary tastes. His output is extensive and varied, ranging from works like the Fantasia la mi fa fa and the Capriccio in G, which recall Frescobaldi’s contrapuntal works, to figured bass sonatas and versets, to variations, toccatas, and suites in a style similar to that of his friend and colleague Arcangelo Corelli, and foreshadowing the keyboard writing of his most famous pupil, Domenico Scarlatti.  

Michelangelo Rossi’s (1601–1656) music shows the other face of the Roman Baroque—the face that seeks to shock and amaze, especially by breaking the rules. During his lifetime, Rossi was best known as a virtuoso violinist. He also composed at least two operas and spent most of his life working as a court rather than a church musician. His ten keyboard toccatas are formally similar to Frescobaldi’s toccatas, but are full of startling effects and chromaticism that borders on the grotesque. In them, extreme virtuosity makes up for contrapuntal simplicity.  

Neapolitan Daring

Drama and audacity are a key part of Neapolitan art. For twenty-five centuries, Naples has brazenly lain in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius. It is a city of daring and a city of extremes. Emerging from the strange semi-darkness of the old city’s narrow streets, for example, one finds oneself confronted by the glittering brilliance of the bay. Neapolitan art and architecture express this too. Naples is famous for its seemingly quaint hand-crafted nativity scenes. Take a closer look, and you will find them full of drama enacted by humorous and grotesque characters. Behind a most forbidding fortress-like block façade, soars the opulent Baroque interior of the Chiesa del Gesù Nuovo, with its profusion of colorful frescoes, inlaid marbles, and priceless treasures. Similarly, the famous sculptures of the Cappella Sansevero, including Giuseppe Sanmartino’s The Veiled Christ, combine absolute technical perfection with gestures and facial expressions so full of pathos that they do not just invite an emotional response from their viewer, they force one. 

Organs of Southern Italy

My most memorable experience with southern Italian organs occurred during a trip to the town of Teggiano in the region of Campania. The south of Italy is full of secluded towns and villages and many undiscovered artistic treasures. Teggiano is home to several historical instruments, but the two most interesting were built around the turn of the 17th century—one in 1595 (Figure 8) and one in 1619 (Figure 9), only four years after the publication of Giovanni Maria Trabaci’s Secondo Libro de Ricercate et altri varij Capricci. Neapolitan-style instruments from this time period are extremely rare. Neither instrument is playable at this time.⁶ The restoration of the 1595 instrument is nearly complete, but has been suspended because of a lack of funding. The 1619 instrument, though magnificent, is still a ruin. Nevertheless, they still reveal much about Neapolitan organ music from the late Renaissance time. The pipe scaling used in these instruments is extremely narrow and would produce a sound as brilliant and arresting as the glaring Neapolitan sun. In addition, both instruments have very narrow cases that would act only as soundboards, and would not mix or soften the sound at all (Figure 10). 

The Neapolitan area was also home to talented 18th-century organbuilders, including Silverio Carelli. In 1784, Carelli built a beautiful instrument as a gift for the cathedral of his hometown of Vallo della Lucania. Its tone is sweet and full; several ranks including the Principale 8′ are doubled. Its keyboard and pedalboard are both fully chromatic, also in the lowest octave. The case is magnificent (Figure 11). Carelli spared no expense in building this instrument. He even included bagpipes, which could be used to play pastorali at Christmas time—so fitting in an area famous for its hand-crafted pastoral scenes.         

Music of the Neapolitan School

Like the Venetian school of keyboard music, the Neapolitan school flourished during the late Renaissance. Its leader was the Franco-Flemish composer Giovanni de Macque (1550–1614). He worked for the Gesualdo household and later as maestro di cappella for the Spanish viceroy. Giovanni Maria Trabaci (1575–1647) and Ascanio Mayone (1565–1627) served under De Macque as organists of the royal chapel. Their music is radical. De Macque’s in particular is full of daring harmonies and forbidden intervals. How it must have appalled proponents of strict Renaissance counterpoint! But then, it was written in Naples, not in Rome. As was the Neapolitan tradition, the music of De Macque, Trabaci, and Mayone is suitable for performance on keyboard instruments as well as on harp. It stands to reason that the composers assumed that the performer would make adjustments idiomatic to the instruments on which they chose to perform, adding a pedal part on the organ, arpeggiating chords on the harpsichord, and so on. Unlike Frescobaldi, none of the Neapolitan composers wrote prefaces including detailed performance practice instructions, but Trabaci does include an important word of warning in the preface to his Libro primo (1603).⁷ He writes that his music is carefully composed, but that study is necessary to discern the spirit of the music. Should the performer neglect to do this study, it will be their own fault if they did not succeed in realizing his intentions. Of course, it is impossible to know today exactly what Trabaci meant by this statement, but one thing is sure: in order to perform this Neapolitan music convincingly, it is crucial to study, determine the affect that the composer sought to convey, and then to do everything possible to communicate it as intensely as possible.

Conclusions

In conclusion, allow me to offer a few practical suggestions regarding interpreting the notation of early Italian organ music. Musical notation developed over the centuries to include more and more performance information. At first, however, it was simply a memory aid in a musical tradition that was transmitted orally. Early Italian notation of keyboard music gives no information about dynamics or registration, and little information about tempo or the use of pedal. Some composers, like Merulo, for example, notate trills and other ornaments, while others notate only the minimum of ornaments, and still others like Martini provide only a skeleton of their composition. Both the typesetting of modern editions as well as the moveable type in use in the 16th and early 17th centuries make this music appear rigid. Further, the time signatures and note values common at this time tend to be much larger than we are accustomed to today. Quarter notes in the music, for example, are often the same speed as what we would notate as eighth or even sixteenth notes today. As a result, this music can appear simple and boring at first glance. Performed with a good dose of imagination—and, as Trabaci reminds us, sufficient study—however, this music is completely captivating, and its exuberance is sure to attract music connoisseurs and first-time concertgoers alike.  

Diruta’s Il Transilvano (1593), Antegnati’s L’arte organica (1608), and Adriano Banchieri’s L’organo suonarino (1605), along with a good ear, are the best guides for choosing registration. In Renaissance music, a slow tactus permeates the music, and the relationships among meters help to establish a tempo. In Baroque music, the tempo is more flexible and governed by the affect of the music, as Frescobaldi discusses in the prefaces to his Libro primo di capricci and his two Libri di toccate. Historical Italian organs are the best source of information regarding pedaling. With the exception of some 18th-century organs, Italian organs have pull-down pedals with no independent stops, but they are very effective for reinforcing a cadence, harmonic sequences, or a cantus firmus. As Frescobaldi demonstrates in his two toccate sopra i pedali, the pedals can also be used to sustain pedal points. Most composers did not notate these pedal points, though their toccatas often feature extended passages decorating a single harmony. Adding a pedal point in these passages makes the organ sound much fuller and more impressive. Studying written-out ornaments and examples of diminutions in treatises like Silvestro Ganassi’s Opera intitulata Fontegara (1535) will help a performer to develop a repertory of ornaments. Playing from facsimiles of music that were published using beautiful copper engraving, like the toccatas of Frescobaldi and Rossi, allows one to avoid the uninspiring straightness of modern notation. As Frescobaldi counsels in the preface to his Fiori musicali, contrapuntal music should be studied in its original open score format. This is guaranteed to deliver much more coherent counterpoint.⁸   

Now is the perfect time to restore early Italian organ music from its relative neglect. Much music that was unavailable outside Italy has recently been released in excellent modern or facsimile editions, formerly unplayable instruments are being restored, research has uncovered helpful performance practice information, and new recordings of ancient instruments are allowing people around the world to experience their beauty for the first time.⁹ But, in my opinion, the sights and sounds of Italy offer more inspiration than any score or treatise. They provide clues about the spirit of the music, where words and musical notation fall miserably short.

The author thanks Francesco Cera for his assistance in preparing this article.  

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

In the 1980s I was a graduate student in Rome, doing research on oratorios in the archive adjacent to the sanctuary of the Chiesa Nuova (Santa Maria in Vallicella). That church, established by St. Philip Neri, witnessed the flourishing of the oratorio in the 18th century; more oratorio performances were held there than at any other venue in Rome. Oratorios, performed weekly from November through Lent, were written by the leading opera composers of the day.
Twice weekly (the archive was only open from 5–7 pm on Tuesdays and Fridays; this explains why my research took a while), I entered the large sanctuary and walked toward the altar on my way to the archive. Though the church still revealed its Baroque splendor, there was no splendid—i.e., in playable condition—organ. So I took no note of the instrument; lack of maintenance on an organ was not an uncommon situation in Roman churches.
Fast forward to 2003, to the office of The Diapason, where I was now on the editorial staff. A new CD had arrived,1 featuring organist Francesco Cera playing the Guglielmi organ at Santa Maria in Vallicella, the instrument having been restored by Fratelli Ruffatti.2 I was impressed by the marvelous playing and the incisive sound of the instrument. Even the temperament was revelatory; the meantone tuning gave the dissonances extra pungency and made their resolutions all the more satisfying.
Francesco Cera, born in Bologna, now resident in Rome, studied organ and harpsichord with Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and Gustav Leonhardt. He has appeared as a soloist in international festivals and has played historic organs in various European countries. His recordings of the complete keyboard works of Michelangelo Rossi, Tarquinio Merula, Bernardo Storace, and Antonio Valente were praised by the international press. He is currently the conductor of the Ensemble Arte Musica, which specializes in Italian vocal repertoire, from the madrigals of Gesualdo to 18th-century cantatas.3 Cera has led masterclasses and seminars at such institutions as the Accademia di Musica Italiana per Organo, Academie d’Orgue de Fribourg, the Royal Academy of Music in London, the University of Illinois, the University of Evansville, and the Eastman School of Music.
I felt it was worth a try to see if I could meet Mr. Cera in person. An e-mail was graciously answered and led to further exchanges, and my husband and I were able to meet Cera on our next trip to Rome. He was most kind and agreed to show and play the organ for us. We met at the church one December day, along with the organist of Santa Maria in Vallicella. After making our way up the curving staircase to the shallow loft, Cera fired up the instrument. He began playing some works by Rossi, but had not played for very long when the competition arrived—another organ was being played, to lead a rehearsal of children singing. We weren’t going to win this one, so we ceased and desisted and headed for the coffee bar across the street.
Time passed. Cera’s CD was given a glowing review in The Diapason.4 In October 2006 he made a tour to the United States to present concerts and masterclasses, to demonstrate Italian organ music of the 17th century. His tour included a stop in Chicago, where he played on the Flentrop organ in Holy Name Cathedral. We were able to meet up with him once again, to discuss the Guglielmi organ and its restoration in further detail.

JR: Was the Guglielmi organ in Santa Maria in Vallicella installed when the church was first built?
FC: The organ that we hear today is the second built by Giovanni Guglielmi for the church, and for centuries it was paired with a second organ, also built by Guglielmi, for the newly built church, in about 1590. The church of Santa Maria in Vallicella (called the Chiesa Nuova) was constructed at the request of St. Filippo Neri, who in the nearby oratory founded the order of the Philippine fathers; thus it is a crucial place in the history of the Catholic Church. The organ we hear was built in 1612, according to archival research.

JR: Is the Guglielmi organ typical of other Roman instruments? How does its design reflect the style of Italian organ building of the 17th century?
FC: Yes, the Guglielmi organ is a traditional type of organ quite frequently found in large Roman churches at the end of the 16th century. I would say that this organ is clearly distinct from those built in northern Italy during the same period, for example those of Antegnati and his followers. It is typically Roman because it exhibits construction characteristics that are very similar to those of organs built in Rome (such as in the 1598 Luca Blasi organ in the basilica of San Giovanni Laterano, in the small organ ca. 1600 by an unknown builder in Santa Barbara ai Librari, and later in the century in the 1673 Testa-Alari at San Giovanni dei Fiorentini). We can note these characteristics in even later instruments that have survived, and through descriptions in old contracts: a short-octave 50-key manual, C–f3 (plus five chromatic split keys for D-sharp/E-flat, and G-sharp/A-flat); a Ripieno based on a 16' Principal, an 8' Trumpet with full-length resonators (called Tromboni)5, and a pair of flutes pitched at 4' and 22⁄3'. The scales of the principals and of the Ripieno ranks are very narrow, giving much transparency to the 16' Ripieno, and a very silvery sound, full of light, to the organ. These narrow scalings produce a very clear and pungent timbre, compared to, say, Tuscan organs of the same period, which have wider scalings and tend towards a rounder sound. The Tromboni, frequently found in Roman organs, add power and color. The sound of the Guglielmi organ seems to reflect the grandeur and luminosity of Rome.

JR: The organ’s case design is something special, too.
FC: Its golden case, redesigned in 1699, is a triumph of the Roman Baroque, clearly inspired by Bernini’s style. Gilded carvings show angels that seem to float across the façade: bas reliefs with putti, garlands of flowers, and a big shell crowning the top just behind the major pipes. Three pipes are embossed with a twisting surface, including the central one, 16' low C. The pipe mouths are also gilded with decorative patterns.

JR: Is the Guglielmi organ similar to any of the masterpieces of Italian organbuilding?
FC: I don’t believe so. For example, the famous organs of San Petronio in Bologna (Lorenzo da Prato, 1475, and Baldassare Malamini, 1596) or the 1545 Antegnati at San Maurizio in Milan have quite a different sonority from the Guglielmi. In fact, the characteristic of Italian organbuilding of every era—from the Renaissance to full-blown Romanticism—is to conceive of nuances of sonority that are distinct in every single region (remember that Italy was divided into many small states until 1860).
At times we have stops typical of a school of organbuilding—for example, in the Venetian school, the 8' Tromboncini (a short-resonator reed); in the Lombardy school, the orchestral stops such as Corno Inglese or Flauto traversiere; or in the Tuscan school, the multi-rank Cornetti. But it is interesting to note how very many old organs having the same stoplist (for example, the most common in various parts of Italy is a Ripieno, a 4' or 22⁄3' Flauto, Voce Umana, and 16' Contrabasso in the pedal) offer quite diverse sonorities, above all in timbre (tone color), due to the scaling and type of voicing. The major organbuilders imparted a personal “character” to their instruments, and it was inevitable that a local “school” resulted. This is the great fascination of the Italian organ—the different nuances of timbre, which still needs to be better understood. The Guglielmi organ is a masterpiece of Roman organbuilding.

JR: The instrument is based on a 16' Principal—is that typical for that time?
FC: Almost all the large Roman churches had instruments whose Ripieno was based on a 16¢ Principal. This was probably felt to be necessary due to the vastness of the churches, but certainly also for the desire for a very solemn sound. At the same time, the narrow scalings provided great luminosity and clarity.

JR: Who played the Guglielmi organ? What documents refer to the organ?
FC: Among the famous organists who played the organ were Bernardo Pasquini, who was the organist at Vallicella from 1657–1664, and also in the 17th century Giovanni Battista Ferrini and Fabrizio Fontana (both of them, along with Pasquini, wrote organ music of high quality). Various documents about the organ and its maintenance through the centuries have been published by Arnaldo Morelli, in the musicological journal Analecta Musicologica.6

JR: When was the organ abandoned and no longer maintained?
FC: At the end of the 19th century, a romantic-style organ was built in the right-side choir loft, and from that point the old Guglielmi, after some mediocre work, was gradually abandoned. Yet most of the 17th-century pipework was not altered—neither the mouths nor the pipe lengths. Thus, notwithstanding the negligence, it was possible to again have the original sound, without having to reinvent it, as it was necessary to do in other cases. This was a very good thing.

JR: How did organ restoration in Italy begin and evolve?
FC: Historic restoration in Italy originated with the pioneering work of the celebrated organist Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and the great scholar, the late Oscar Mischiati. The first organ “saved” from restorations that had a tendency to alter and “modernize” historic organs was Graziadio Antegnati’s 1581 masterpiece in the church of San Giuseppe in Brescia, restored back in 1956. In subsequent years, following the directives of these two great experts, it became more common to respect the original features of every instrument, including the short-octave manuals and pedalboards, which previously had been “normalized” through the addition of chromatic keys. Then came the practice of reconstructing the pipes of lost ranks, with faithful copies of authentic pipes by the same maker. In the late 70s there was a return to the old temperaments, where there had been some surviving traces (meantone and its variants). All this spread at first in the north, with the help of government financing, and since the 1980s, also in central and south Italy. Today my country can claim at least ten organ builders who have specialized for a long time in restorations of the highest quality—work that is on a par with the best carried out in the rest of Europe, perhaps even characterized by a deeper historic consciousness.

JR: Who provided the funds for restoring the organ? When did this come about?
FC: The Italian government provided funding for the restoration, and the work took place between 1998–2000. The superintendent of historic and artistic works of Rome entrusted the work to Fratelli Ruffatti of Padua, due to their experience in restoring historic organs in various regions of Italy, with the leading expert Oscar Mischiati as consultant.

JR: What work needed to be done on the organ?
FC: The spring windchest that was found in the organ was almost destroyed by rainwater that had leaked in, but although it was probably from the 19th century it seemed inspired by 17th-century building technique—thus it was reconstructed with the same design. Also lacking was the console, but after an accurate analysis of the pipes, it appeared clearly that its compass was of 50 keys (c1 to f5, with the first “short” octave), plus five added “split” keys, for a total of 55 keys, and the stops arranged vertically.7 The keyboard and pedalboard were reconstructed according to models of the period. The surviving group of original pipes was simply put in the best possible playing condition, and the temperament reset to meantone, with the pitch being detected as A=400—quite low, but close to the documented pitch in use in Rome at that time (i.e., around A=390). Ruffatti’s work has produced a very satisfying result.

JR: What are some other important recent restorations?
FC: Italy has the good fortune to possess very many Renaissance organs, which have had only minor modifications. Among these are the two organs at San Petronio in Bologna (to which I referred earlier), whose restoration, done by Tamburini under the supervision of Tagliavini and Mischiati, was completed in 1982. These two organs have been recorded on many CDs and have been visited by many organists from all over the world. Then there is the splendid 1556 Giovanni Cipri instrument at San Martino (also in Bologna), and the 1521 Domenico di Lorenzo at the church of the Annunziata in Florence.
Among the most important recent restorations, I would name the 1509 Pietro da Montefalco in Trevi (Umbria), restored by Pinchi-Ars Organi, the 1852 Tronci with three manuals and two small pedalboards at Gavinana (Tuscany), restored by Riccardo Lorenzini, and the 1775 Gaetano Callido at Fano (the Marches), restored by Francesco Zanin. Lastly, there is the 1565 Graziadio Antegnati organ in the church of Santa Barbara in Mantua, within the Gonzaga palace, an imposing 16¢ instrument with seven split keys for D-sharp and A-flat, restored by Giorgio Carli. I had the honor of playing the inaugural concert.

JR: Has there been much publicity about the Guglielmi organ?
FC: Unfortunately, after the restoration, nothing was published regarding the organ, and few organists played it. Realizing its importance—a great Roman organ from the time of Frescobaldi!—I proposed to Radio France that they do a CD recording for their “Temperaments” series, and Gilles Cantagrel, artistic director and noted Bach and organ scholar, accepted right away.
The CD notably helped develop interest in this important instrument, which restores the authentic sonority of the organs that the great Frescobaldi—and also Rossi, Pasquini, and their German pupils (Froberger, Kerll, Muffat)—would have regularly played, and for which they conceived their organ works.

JR: Francesco, you have toured a few times in the United States. Do you find that American organists know much about Italian organs?
FC: Generally, I think that it’s quite a mystery—people have only a vague idea—but all the organists that I’ve met in America are very interested to know more! For example, someone who heard the Guglielmi organ through my CD was extremely surprised by the very clear, or as they say, “stringy” sound—but also by the presence of the trumpet rank. Both these aspects are not part of their conception of the Italian organ, if their idea of the Italian organ only comes from visits they made to organs in Bologna rather than Florence. In Italy today, the Italian language is spoken with many varied accents (in the past, dialects were spoken more than they are today), and these differences are found in our old organs as well. It seems to me that the interest in Italian organ music, and the desire to explore it in all its vast scope, is growing. I have the impression that lately, after having concentrated on German Baroque works, people are looking for new repertoire, and the Italian repertory is clearly gaining popularity!

JR: Tell us something about your latest trip to the U.S.
FC: I was surprised to be able to play two historic Italian organs! I had heard of the 18th-century organ at the Eastman School in Rochester, inaugurated last year and now at the center of a strong, thorough study of Italian organ music. Its placement within the museum is really splendid; being surrounded by Italian Renaissance and Baroque paintings, it is put in a cultural context that is so important for those who are knowledgeable as well as for American students. Equally excellent is the positive organ that I played at Cornell University in Ithaca—an instrument with a strong Neapolitan character, built by Agostino Vicedomini in the 1720s. I think that both these instrument were restored very well.
I was also delighted with the sound of the big Flentrop at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago—faithful to the Dutch Baroque aesthetic—and also the John Brombaugh organ in Springfield, Illinois, a fine balance between historic copy and personality. I hope that soon the United States can have more organs in Italian style, maybe entrusting their construction to Italian builders so that the true Italian sonority—luminous and full of character—can be more widespread. I think that in mid-size churches with good acoustics, such an organ could be successful, or in churches where in addition to a traditional instrument there is a desire for an organ with a different sonority. Why not?

The author wishes to thank Fratelli Ruffatti, and especially Francesco Ruffatti, for their kind assistance. All translations are by the author.

John Collins has been playing and researching early keyboard music for over 35 years, with special interests in the English, Italian, and Iberian repertoires. He has contributed many articles and reviews to several American and European journals, including The Diapason, and has been organist at St. George’s, Worthing, West Sussex, England for almost 26 years.

In 2010 there are several composers for organ from the 16th to 18th centuries whose anniversaries can be commemorated, albeit only some of the dates are certain. Many of the names listed here will not be well known, but their compositions are well worth exploring and many are suitable for both liturgical and recital use. Although the dances and variations were destined primarily for the harpsichord and clavichord, they would have also been played on the domestic chamber organ—even performance on a church organ can sound most effective when using carefully selected stops based on clarity, rather than thick diapasons. From the 16th century onwards, publishers had an eye for commercial exploitation and frequently included multiple instrumental possibilities on the title pages! This list makes no claim to completeness, but the compiler has copies of almost everything here, although it is entirely possible that some items are out of print and would have to be consulted in libraries.

Antonio de Cabezón (1510–66). Leading 16th-century Spanish composer for keyboard. Several of his works (including 14 tientos, some 15 hymns, and two short diferencias or variations) were published in Venegas de Henestrosa’s Libro de Cifra Nueva (1557), which includes important comments on performance practice, including ornaments and fingering; modern edition by Higinio Anglés in two volumes (Groen’s catalogue mentions a reprint in four volumes) for Monumentos de la Música Española. The posthumous Obras de Música para Tecla, Arpa y Vihuela, published by his son Hernando in 1578 (which also includes invaluable comments on performance practice), contains much liturgical music; after four duos and five pieces in three parts headed “for beginners,” there follow 11 hymns, sets of four versos, four fabordones, six (on the second, third and fifth tones) or seven verses on the Magnificats, and four Kyries on each of the eight tones, in addition to 14 tientos, nine diferencias, a setting of Duinsela, and over 40 glosadas (intabulations) in up to six parts, including four by Hernando, one by Juan de Cabezón, and one anonymous. A modern edition in three volumes excluding the glosadas is edited by Anglés and published by Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas. A new edition is in preparation, edited by Claudio Astronio for Ut Orpheus. The glosadas have been edited by Maria Ester Sala for Union Musical Ediciones. A few pieces in MS 242 at Coimbra published in Portugaliae Musica Vol. XIX have tentatively been assigned to de Cabezón, although the ascription to A.C. may well have meant Antonio Carreira, the leading Portuguese organist of the 16th century.

Ercole Pasquini (ca. 1560–1620). Organist in Verona and Rome, from which post he was apparently dismissed in 1608. He left over 30 pieces in MSS (none autograph), including six toccatas (some with interesting rhythmic patterns in the note groupings), ten canzonas, one fuga, sets of variations including Ruggiero, two on Romanesca and two Pass è Mezzi, an intabulation of Ancor che co’l partire, a sonata, a gagliarda, and the earliest known examples of two durezze and two correnti. Collected edition by W. Richard Shindle, published by American Institute of Musicology, Corpus of Early Keyboard Music 12.

Peter Philips (ca. 1560–1628). Spent much time in Italy, Spain, France, and Belgium, where he died in Brussels. Left some 34 compositions, including pavans, galliards, three fantasias, 15 intabulations of madrigals, and a set of 10 verses on Veni Sancte Spiritus. Nineteen pieces, mainly dances and intabulations, are to be found in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book Vol. 1. A further eight pieces, including an almande, pavana, fantasia, four intabulations, and the setting of Veni Sancte Spiritus, are edited by John Harley for Stainer & Bell’s Early Keyboard Music K40. The complete keyboard works, edited by David Smith, are in Musica Britannica, Vol. 75.

Hieronymus Praetorius (1560–1629) was organist of the Jakobikirche in Hamburg. He left a large corpus of organ music in the Visby MS, of which the eight Magnificat cycles bear his name. Ascribed to him with some certainty from the same MSS are 19 hymn cycles (of Latin hymns) and 10 Kyrie cycles as well as four sequence cycles, a setting of Psalm 113, of the German Magnificat using the Tonus Peregrinus, and two recently discovered lengthy chorale fantasias, on Christ unser Herr zum Jordan kam and Wenn mein Stündlein vorhanden ist. All of these pieces have been edited by Klaus Beckmann in three volumes for Schott (ED 9581–9583).

Johann Benn (ca. 1590–1660) worked in Messkirch (Baden) and Lucerne, and left seven ricercars and two canzonas in a MS now in the BL. A modern edition by R. Schächer is published by Cornetto Verlag (CP342).

Pedro de Tafalla (1606–1660) was organist at El Escorial, Spain, where his three known compositions for organ are preserved. They include a Tiento lleno on the 2nd Tone, a Medio registro alto on the 2nd Tone, and a Tiento de dos tiples on the 7th Tone. They have been published recently by Ediciones Escurialenses in Música para órgano (siglo XVII) Volume 1-1, which also includes works by Diego de Torrijos and Cristóba1 de San Jerónimo, available from Tritó, Barcelona.

Henri Dumont (1610–84). Born in Belgium, Dumont became organist at St-Paul in Paris and left 17 pieces, including 11 allemandes, one courante, one pavane, and four préludes. Modern edition P. Bonfils, Editions Musicales de la Schola Cantorum et de la Procure Générale de Musique, L’organiste Liturgique 13.

Bernardo Pasquini (1637–1710). Organist in Rome and teacher of Zipoli, Casini, Georg Muffat, composer of over 200 pieces for keyboard conserved in four main MSS, covering all the main genres (17 suites, a few individual dance movements, about 30 short arias, over 35 toccatas, two capriccii, a fantasia, three canzone), one fuga, four ricercari (one of which runs to 345 bars), four sonatas, 22 variations (including four passacagli), and including over 300 versos and 14 sonatas for one and a further 14 for two instruments with just a figured bass. Available in seven volumes, edited by Maurice Brook Haynes, published by American Institute of Musicology, Corpus of Early Keyboard Music 5—this edition is unfortunately very unreliable but does group the works by genres. The far more accurate new Italian edition in seven volumes—which, after volume one that contains an Introduzione and Pastorale, and 60 versetti, all taken from a newly discovered MS in Bologna, follows the haphazard groupings of the (mainly autograph) MSS—is available from Libreria Musicale (www.libreria musicale.com). A facsimile edition of the Landsberg MS has been edited by Emer Buckley in two parts plus CD, published by Anne Fuzeau Classique (www.
editions-classique.com).

Alessandro Scarlatti (1660–1725). Better known for his sacred and secular vocal music, he left many toccatas in MSS, most of which are multi-movement (with some loose fugues as well as dance movements), including lengthy sets of variations on the Folia. Some toccatas are retrospective, others are forward-looking, with many dissonant clashes and lengthy passages of chords to be arpeggiated. An excellent new edition by Andrea Macinanti and Francesco Tasini with a most illuminating introduction on performance is published in five volumes by Ut Orpheus: Alessandro Scarlatti, Complete Works for Keyboard, Vols. 1–5, Ut Orpheus AS 01–AS 05; <www.utorpheus.com&gt;.

Johann Kuhnau (1660–1722) worked in Leipzig and published two sets of seven suites (the first set in major, the second in minor keys, also including a sonata in B-flat), seven sonatas in from three to seven movements, and a set of six sonatas that are multi-movement programmatic pieces entitled Biblical Histories. All are available in facsimile, published by SPES. The edition by Moser for Denkmäler deutscher Tonkunst volume 1/4 is out of print, but a new edition in two volumes has been edited by C. Harris in Art of the Keyboard Vol. 6 for Broude Brothers: Johann Kuhnau: The Collected Works for Keyboard, ed. C. David Harris; AOK 6, 2 volumes; Broude Brothers Limited (www.broude.us/Catalogues/EarlyMusic2006.pdf). The Biblical Sonatas are available separately, AOK 6C.

Christian Witte (ca. 1660–1717), organist in Altenburg, left about 20 pieces in MSS, including suites, preludes, fugues, three chorale preludes, and ciaconas; a passacaglia on D-C-Bb-A with 30 variations was formerly attributed to J. S. Bach. A modern edition of 12 pieces has been edited by Laura Cerutti for Armelin (www.armelin.it) in two volumes (AMM 026/053), of which the pieces best suited to organ are in volume 2. Three pieces from the Mylau Tablaturbuch are edited by John R. Shannon for American Institute of Musicology, Corpus of Early Keyboard Music 39. A capriccio in the Andreas Bach Book has been edited by Robert Hill for Harvard University Press: Keyboard Music from the Andreas Bach Book and the Moller Manuscript, ed. Robert Hill; Harvard University Press (www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog/HILMUS.html).

Georg Leyding (1665–1710) studied with Reincken and Buxtehude and became Jakob Bölsche’s successor at Braunschweig. He left three praeludia, a chorale prelude on Wie schön leucht uns, and a set of six chorale variations on Von Gott will ich nicht lassen, which have been edited by Klaus Beckmann for Breitkopf & Härtel: Georg Dietrich Leyding, Organ Works (EB 8405) (www.breitkopf.com).

Vicent Rodríguez (1690–1760) was organist at Valencia Cathedral, successor to the great Cabanilles. In MSS he left a Libro de Tocatas (30) for harpsichord and a few pieces for organ including a fantasia, six tocatas (several of these are pieces for the clarines or trumpet stops and are much lighter in style than those by Cabanilles), and a partido. New edition by Águeda Pedrero for Tritó edicions (www.trito.es). Ten versos sobre Pange Lingua have been edited by Vicente Ros and included in Música de Tecla Valenciana Vol. 5.

Thomas Arne (1710–78). Left Six favourite concertos for organ, harpsichord or piano-forte published ca. 1787, which may be performed without the accompanying parts; edited by Robin Langley for OUP; and Gwilym Beechey has edited the organ solos from the concerti for Peters (H 1544). Arne also published a set of Eight Sonatas or Lessons for the harpsichord in 1756, facsimile edition edited by Beechey and Dart for Stainer & Bell K27.

Thomas Gladwin (1710–99). Worked in London, where he published Eight Lessons for the Harpsichord or Organ, three of which have violin accompaniment, in the 1750s. Facsimile edition of these two-movement pieces has been published by Jacks, Pipes and Hammers; <www.
btinteret.com/~edjacksph/pub.htm>.

Giuseppe Paganelli (1710–63). Worked in Venice, Bayreuth, Munich, and Madrid, where he may have succeeded D. Scarlatti. He published XXX Ariae pro organo et cembalo in 1756, facsimile edition in Minkoff, and edited by M. Machella for Armelin AMM163. He also published in 1757 Amusement for the fair sex or Six sonatines for the harpsichord, modern edition by Laura Cerutti for Cornetto Verlag (CP388). Three further sonatas are included in volumes 2, 3, and 4 of the Haffner Raccolta. Facsimile edition of volumes 2 and 3 in Raccolta musicale… Bibliotheca Musica Bononiensis IV/56 Bologna.

Wilhelm Friedemann Bach (1710–84). Oldest son of Johann Sebastian, he left relatively few keyboard works, most of which sound best on the clavichord, including eleven sonatas, eight fugues, twelve polonaises, ten fantasias, seven chorale preludes, and eight fugues from isolated MSS, in addition to pieces in the Notebook for W F Bach compiled by Johann Sebastian. The eight fugues have been edited by Paul Simmonds and Mike Daniels (www.paulsimmonds.com/publications/php) and published by themselves. They are also included in volume 1 of the organ works edited by Traugott Fedke for Edition Peters in two volumes (vol. 2 includes the chorale preludes and some more fugues). A new complete edition of the keyboard music in two volumes (vol. 1 just published) is in progress for Carus Verlag (Carus 32.001, 32.002). Best suited to the organ are the fugues and chorale preludes.

Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710–36) is better known for his operas and sacred music, but three organ sonatas are included in Splendori del ’700 Napoletano Vol 1. and one in Vol. 2, edited by Maurizio Machella for Armelin as AMM 161 and AMM 240 (www.armelin.it). Many pieces formerly attributed to him in 18th-century sources have now been identified as being by other composers—the one certain thing about Pergolesi is that he died young!

Many of the publishers mentioned have their own websites and accept orders from anywhere; the following would supply “one-stop shopping” for orders from more than one publisher, although they themselves would have to order titles from many of the smaller publishers, including the Spanish and Italian.
Jacks Pipes and Hammers: <www.jackspipesandhammers.com&gt;
Saul Groen: <http://saulgroen.nl&gt;
Sheetmusicplus: <www.sheetmusic plus.com>

Other individual publishers’ sites include:
Edicion Tritó: <www.trito.es&gt;; especially useful for Spanish scores
Corpus of Early Keyboard Music: <www.corpusmusicae.com/cekm&gt;. 

This article is a considerably expanded version of a list originally published in British Clavichord Society Newsletter 46.