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Brahms' Chorale Preludes

by Joseph Horning
Johannes Brahms

Johannes Brahms, who died 100 years ago on April 3, 1897, composed the final installment of his musical legacy--the Eleven Chorale Preludes, Opus 122 --during the last year of his life. They were written during his summer holiday at Ischl, where Brahms had vacationed annually from 1889. But his final visit was clouded by Clara Schumann's recent death and his own illness, cancer of the liver, which had taken his father twenty-five years earlier and the symptoms of which he likely would have recognized.1

 

When considering Op. 122, it is valid to ask: "Are these works all that special?"--because no composer created an endless string of pearls. Indeed, Peter Williams revealed his reservations in a review in The Organ Quarterly:

[While] the stature of the man makes all his works interesting in some way or another, there is something depressing about this music.  I do not mean merely the death-centered theme of Op. 122 but the general tenor of the musical idioms found here, the kind of organ sound most suitable for them and the weird absence--considering who their composer was--of melodic flare or that dramatic sense of sonority and rhythmic impetus we know from the composer's symphonies.2

As these works are chorale preludes, Mr. Williams' mention of "melodic flare" is peculiar. And his comparison to the "sonority and rhythmic impetus" of Brahms' symphonies is irrelevant, as these are clearly miniatures, each wonderful and satisfying when played in an empathetic manner. But it is perhaps unfortunate that the complete organ works of Johannes Brahms--his four early works dating from 1856-7 and the "Eleven"--fit so conveniently on one CD, for they are becoming the most frequently recorded set of organ works, second only to Boëllmann's ubiquitous Suite Gothique. Unlike the latter, however, Brahms' "Eleven" are a collection rather then a suite, and their effectiveness is diminished when heard all at one sitting. I feel they have far more impact and are more enjoyable inserted one or two at a time into an eclectic program.

Clearly, what can be a small masterpiece in the hands of one can be tedious in the hands of another--and even more so for Op. 122.  For with these works, Brahms has hidden eleven treasures inside a maze. In this essay, we will examine the "Eleven" and discuss ways to make these treasures come alive.

Form of the Chorales

To begin, see Table 1 for a survey of the forms Johannes Brahms used in Op. 122.  In addition to simple harmonized treatments, Brahms embellished some chorales into aria form, extended some with interludes, or used each phrase as a motif for the accompanying parts (Pachelbel style), or surrendered to a free fantasy form in which the original melody is almost totally lost.3

One can see from Table 1 that half are on Passiontide or requiem themes.  But only number 10, based on the "passion" chorale, expresses the depths of the emotions implied by the text: "My heart is ever yearning for blessed death's release." Of those based on other themes, numbers 5 through 8 are warm, lovely and contemplative and number 4 is an outburst of joy. Even O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, the last of the "Eleven" and Brahms' final composition, is a gentle farewell to life. E. Power Biggs summed up these works very well in the Preface to his edition of Op. 122:

Composed in memory of his dearest and most faithful friend, Clara Schumann, at the same time the Preludes are a revealing document of Brahms' thoughts on his own life. One biographer, Niemann, points out that most of the Preludes are: "A retrospect and an epilogue, a salutation to youth and its ideals, and a farewell to this world which is, after all, so fair." Somber as many of the Preludes are, they yet have a warm, autumnal quality that is all Brahms' own.4

Baroque or Romantic?

Since the "Eleven" are cast in the traditional German form of chorale preludes, and since Brahms had applied himself diligently to the rediscovery of early music, in particular Bach with whose music he was quite conversant,5 there is the question of whether the interpretation should reflect performance practice of the late 19th century or early 18th century. The great body of Brahms' compositions show that he was a thoroughly Romantic composer of great power. His Classical inclinations, however, restrained him from some of the delicious excesses of, say, a Tchaikovsky. Brahms' "Eleven" require the performance practice of Brahms' age, not the Baroque. When Villa-Lobos' Bachianas Brasileiras, or Dupré's "Chorale in the Style of J. S. Bach" (Fifteen Antiphons), or Franck's Three Chorales are performed--all of which took their inspiration from Bach --the interpretive style should be that of the composer's age, not the 18th century.  So also with the "Eleven." Robert Schuneman makes a key point when he says:

One should not be deceived by the brevity of the chorale preludes, nor with an initial reaction to the printed page which makes them look like chamber music. Their religious nature, the sacredness, otherworldliness, the transcendental quality--all of this is expressed by Brahms (as in other Romantic music) with grandeur, monumentality, and weightiness in terms of organ sound in acoustic space.6

An initial look at the printed page has misled many an organist to think that the "Eleven" are as easy to play as they are short, but Brahms sophisticated writing often seems to jig where the hand wants to jog. Simply learning the notes is the organist's first task.  But it is remarkable how many organists confide that these works are often poorly played even if the notes are correct.  Indeed, Schuneman decried " . . . the stiff, unyielding, ungraceful and ragged performances which are so often heard . . . "7

A Romantic Framework

For idiomatic interpretations of Brahms' "Eleven," it helps to consider them within the context of the 19th century. Born in 1886 in Belgium, the renowned organ virtuoso Charles M. Courboin provides a link with that sensibility. His pupil, Richard Purvis, discusses Courboin's approach:

Courboin always returned to three elemental principles in the consideration of any piece. First, one had to consider the architecture of the work; second was texture; third was emotional content. The architecture was most important. "Where are the high points," he would ask, "and how are you going to do them justice? Where are the transitional points, at which you leave one mood and go to another?"

If the architecture defined the parameters of the piece, the texture was the actual landscape for which Courboin often used visual imagery as might describe an oil painting, an etching or a watercolor.  At other times he would discuss texture in more strictly musical terms: was it contrapuntal, harmonic, a combination of the two?  And what tools were you going to use to emphasize the texture rather than obscure it.  Once you had the architecture and had done justice to the texture, you could then afford to explore the fine points of the emotions you were trying to communicate.  Courboin constantly asked, "What emotions does the piece involve, conjure up, portray?"8

The Brahms Organ

Brahms did play the organ to some degree in the 1850s when he wrote the four early compositions. But as he was never a professional organist associated with a specific organ, there has been an active debate over the years concerning the ideal Brahms organ sound. For example, registrations recommended by Walter E. Buszin and Paul G. Bunjes reveal their ideal Brahms organ to be a Baroque affair on which one should draw no more than one 8' stop per division.9 The result is far from weight, grandeur and monumentality.

A key year in this discussion is 1833, the year of Brahms' birth and the year in which E. F. Walcker completed his first major achievement, a 3-manual, 74-voice trendsetter for the Paulskirche in Frankfurt.10 The Oberwerk had five 8' flues and the Schwellwerk had six. The structure of the 23-voice Hauptwerk was as follows: 32,16,16,16,8,8,8,8,51/3, 4,4,4,31/5,22/3,2,2,13/5,1,V,IV,V,16,8. Walcker built hundreds of organs based on similar principles throughout the 19th century, including a 3-manual, 61-voice instrument built in 1878 for the Votivkirch in Vienna,11 an organ which was certainly known to Brahms as he had settled permanently in Vienna in 1868.  The Oberwerk of the Votivkirch organ had four 8' flues and the Schwellwerk five. The structure of the 23-voice Hauptwerk is: 16,16,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,51/3, 31/5,4,4,4,22/3,2,2,VI,III,V,16,8,4.12 Franz Ebner, who recorded the "Eleven" on this organ, stated:

The instrument on which Brahms' art can most suitably be realized is not the Baroque organ but that type in which the endeavors of the 19th century to attain a full, warm, immediately arresting tone found fulfillment.13

However, a "Brahms organ" does not have to be huge or even large.  As Max Miller pointed out in his article, "The Brahms Chorale Preludes--Master Lesson," the small instruments in every organ culture aspire to the effects of large instruments and thus clearly indicate the idealized sound of the time.14 He offers this 1869 German stoplist in which 60% of the manual voices are of 8' pitch:

Hauptwerk: 16,8,8,8,4,III

Oberwerk: 8,8,8,4

Pedal: 16,16,8.

For a fuller discussion of organ design in 19th century Germany, see Robert Parkins' series of articles in The Diapason: "Rediscovering the German Romantic Organ" (January, February and March, 1989).

Registrations

Robert Schuneman devoted a full page of his Brahms article to excerpts from Hugo Riemann's Catechism of the Organ, which gives an insight into German organ playing from the period 1845 to 1895. This is most valuable reading for those who play Brahms. One of the key concepts is horizontal registrations.  That is, one first combines a succession of 8' stops--from the softest to the Diapason--to create a bed of unison sound to which one adds the Octave, the 16', the 22/3' Quinte, the reed, the 2' and the Mixture in that order. The manuals are coupled to achieve fuller effects, and "gap" registrations like 8'+2' are to be avoided unless the composer has specified it.15

In "Some Thoughts on the Sound of the Organ," John David Peterson offers valuable insights into the ideal Brahms "sound":

Brahms' orchestrations call for a rich blend of dark colors. His favored instruments were the horn, viola, violoncello and clarinet, and his piano works challenge the player to call forth half- and counter-melodies from the tenor register of thick textures. It is not surprising that his organ works share the same sense of musical color.16

The key word which sums up registrations for Op. 122 is "warmth." Thus it is surprising that Robert Schuneman would have said: "Strings, as we know them today [1972], and especially celestes, are not appropriate."17 German 19th century stoplists had many a Gemshorn, Salizional, Fugara and Viola da Gamba and the celesting stops Unda Maris and Voix Celeste were to be found.  If these sounds were part of the organ culture of Brahms' time, and if one of his favorite orchestral effects was massed cellos and violas, what better way can there be to realize Op. 122 than by including strings in the registrations? The quieter chorales--Nos. 5, 6, 8 and 11--are excellent candidates for a celeste. If one has a broad Violoncello Celeste, it might be just the thing for the pedal cantus in No. 10. And how better to let the final notes of No. 11 O Welt, ich muss dich lassen float up into heaven than with a quiet celeste?

Brahms' Markings

While Brahms didn't indicate registrations, he left dynamic indications which, coupled with the precepts in Riemann's Catechism, may well amount to the same thing (see Table 2).

The dynamic markings and performance indications would seem to be clear enough, with the possible exception of "dolce." In Dynamics in the Music of Johannes Brahms, Imogen Fellinger says that dolce implies a weakening of the given preceding dynamic strength, just as expressivo is an intensification of the predominant dynamic strength.18 This may well be so where the dynamic marking is forte. Thus "forte ma dolce" in numbers 1, 3, and 11 would translate "loud but sweetly" or "loud but not strident." However, it seems a bit of a stretch to say that "dolce" in numbers 5 and 8 actually implies a dynamic slightly softer than the indicated "piano." It probably calls for a "sweet" or "gentle" interpretation and has nothing to do with dynamics. In support of this, note that only numbers 2, 7, 9 and 10 are without the "dolce." What is different about them from the rest? Both 2 and 9 are sturdy and forthright (the latter remarkably so), number 7 is a combination of urgency and melancholy, and number 10 is characterized by great pathos.

Tempo

In preparing this article, I studied fourteen organ recordings of Op. 122 and two of the Busoni piano transcriptions of Nos. 4-5 and 8-11. The range of tempi is remarkable. The slowest interpretations of the complete "Eleven" take 42 minutes whereas the fastest last but 21 minutes--half as long, or twice as fast.  The median19 duration was 321/2 minutes. See Table 3.

It is easier and clearer to discuss the tempos of these works, which as Romantic works are subject to considerable rubato, using the duration of the piece rather than metronome indications. The player who wishes to play Brahms musically would be well advised to avoid the extremes of tempo. Speeding through these works with the fastest tempos renders them meaningless and trite, but performances with the slowest tempos lacked energy and were often boring and stultifying. I found it of passing personal interest that the tempos at which I play these pieces are, in most cases, pretty close to the median. These median durations would seem to be a good starting place for those attempting to discover the ideal tempos.

Rubato

In his essay, "Playing Around With Tempo," Robert Schuneman describes tempo rubato:

Most music is mechanical without it in some form. On the other hand, the same music may turn into a caricature of its own intent and content with too much of it poorly applied. It is the most difficult of all musical terms to describe in words, and it takes an extremely sensitive player to use it well.20

As rubato is so difficult to describe in words, I would recommend Arthur Rubenstein's renditions of the Chopin Nocturnes as a most exquisite example of rubato in 19th century music.21

One might divide music into two types: objective and subjective. With objective music, of which Brahms' early a-minor and g-minor Prelude and Fugue are two good examples, if you play all the notes in a reasonably steady tempo, you achieve 80% of the composer's intent.  With subjective music, of which the "Eleven" are an excellent example, if you simply play all the notes in a reasonably steady tempo you realize absolutely none of the musical content the composer put into the work. The worst performances (with the notes played correctly) one will ever hear of Op. 122 are those in which, to paraphrase the popular song, "the beat goes on."

Schuneman makes an excellent point which is quite relevant to Op.122:

With the emergence after 1830 of free forms, program music, salon music, and the seeking out of emotional content over form, declamatory expression (free tempo rubato) became much more indispensable to good performance.  Furthermore, as the 19th  century progressed, tempo rubato became increasingly tied to dynamics. Accelerando means crescendo and vice-versa; ritardando means diminuendo and vice-versa.22

The most important performance points here are that in Op. 122, the beat itself is modified, which is a considerably further modification of tempo than the 18th century notion of rubato, where the melody in the right hand was subject to rubato but the beat in the left hand was not.23

Chorale No. 5, Schmücke dich, provides a clear illustration of the above points. Consider Figure 1, which is a harmonization of the chorale, as it would be sung. The added crescendo and decrescendo markings--not to be overdone, of course--simply indicate what any good choir would do intuitively. This music, all music, for that matter, is meant to be performed expressively. So apply this dynamic pattern to Brahms' realization of the chorale in Figure 2 (expression marks added to the Henle edition). If played on the Swell 8' flues, subtle opening and closing of the swell box is no problem. Per the above discussion of rubato, a subtle accelerando would accompany the crescendo and a ritardando comes with the diminuendo. One might alternatively describe this as a slight increase and decrease in intensity. Then there is the syncopated rhythmic pattern in the left hand which Brahms notated as shown in Figure 3, the way George Bozarth would have preferred to notate it in the Henle edition.24 Then there are the delicious dissonances, Brahms beloved major seconds, which Samuel Swartz always said "Brahms put there to linger over." And finally, there are the notes here and there to which, in expressive playing, one gives agogic accents. Integrate all of this into a performance and one has a small masterpiece. Play it straight on through ignoring these factors, on the other hand, and one has a very trite rendition.

Another excellent example of the necessity for rubato is in Chorale No, 11, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen. The structure of the work has a forte section followed by a piano section followed by a pianissimo section--which is repeated six times. Whether Brahms is simply using a series of echos or is referring to the vigor of youth, the mellowness of middle age and the weakness of old age we cannot know. But all of the pianissimo sections need to end with a ritard and a pronounced pause before beginning the next forte section. It is truly amazing that many play this work as if a metronome were clicking inside their heads, rushing past the pianissimo to get at that forte just in the nick of time. See Figure 4 for the interpretation marks I would suggest, and heed Max Miller's advice:

The variables of building and organ will dictate how much time is to be allowed and how freely the echoes should be taken. The non-harmonic tones require spaciousness and breadth in performance.  Time, for Brahms, has with this last composition ceased its hurry and its very meaning.25

Yet another reason for rubato is to give meaning to one of Brahms' favorite rhetorical gestures, the sigh motiv.  Consider the first four bars of O Gott, du frommer Gott (Figure 5), where the sigh motives are indicated by a bracket.  They are descending in mm. 2-3 and inverted in mm. 4-5.  Played in a metronomical tempo, these gestures are as musical as the regular clicks and whirs of factory machinery.  Played with a slight relaxation of tempo, they define the essence of Op. 122.

Indicated Phrasing

In addition to the dynamic and tempo markings, Brahms indicates a wealth of phrasing. Consider the first four bars of No. 1 in Figure 6. Brahms clearly and deliberately sets out a phrasing pattern which leaves little doubt of his intentions. In No. 3, however, there may be some question about the two-note slurs (see Figure 7). Some organists misinterpret these slurs as phrasing marks, and play the two eighth note figures as an eighth and a sixteenth, with a sixteenth rest before the next group begins. This misguided approach gives a jerky, frenetic sound which is the antithesis of the feeling of the chorale, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen. What Brahms meant by these markings was to give a slight stress to the first note of the groupings of two eighth notes. If strings played this piece, there would be the slightest, almost infinitesimal, pause in the sound as the bows changed direction between the eighth-note groupings. And this is precisely how it should be played on the organ.

It is in the very pianistic No. 4 that the precision markings in the Urtext Henle edition clearly communicate Brahms' intentions--markings which are changed or omitted in some other editions. See Figure 8 for the first four bars of No. 4. The quarter notes in the alto voice form a melody in which some notes are held longer than the precise note values, as indicated by the secondary slurs. In bars 1 and 3 the notes marked A are held for two beats,26 in bar 2 the note marked B is held for five beats, and in bar three the note marked C is held for three beats. This is consistent with 19th  century piano practice.

Leslie Spelman, who has spent a good bit of his extraordinarily long career promoting the "Eleven" in both recital and masterclass, sees a parallel to the above technique in No. 10 (see Figure 9). The notes with the horizontal bars added above them form a melody, and Dr. Spelman suggests holding them beyond their indicated value. The notes with the added slurs are to be held even longer. All the while, observing Brahms' molto legato indication and keeping the pulse nicely articulated in the bass.27 This exquisite chorale is also very pianistic and, in fact, is marvelously realized on the piano with a cello playing the cantus. Organists have been ending this piece with an a minor chord for nearly a century, and the A Major ending in the new editions--correcting an error in reading Brahms' autograph by the original editor Mandyczewski--sounds very strange to ears accustomed to the minor ending. But Henle edition editor George Bozarth points out that all of the minor-key preludes in the "Eleven" do, in fact, end with a Picardy third.28 A pronounced ritard in the penultimate measure and a generous observance of Brahms' indicated Adagio in the final bar does "set up" the A Major chord.

Soloing Out Melodies

In several of the Chorales, Brahms allows a clearly discernible melody in the soprano to move moments later to an inner voice where it can be obscured by the accompaniment above it. For example, this happens in measures 5-6 and 14-16 of Es ist ein Ros' entsprungen and measures 28-31 and 38-41 of O Gott, du frommer Gott. There are two schools of thought on this challenge.  Vernon Gotwals feels it is wrong to solo out melodies because this:

. . . shows an unawareness of the abstract nature of Brahms' conception.  It is wrong to emphasize any voice in the manner of the piano in these organ pieces, as Brahms knew that the melody would be lost when it dipped into the tenor in No. 7 or climbed from tenor to alto in No. 8. His subtle conception is destroyed by those who cannot forebear going beyond his precise registrational directions simply because it is physically possible to do so.29

Of course, this implies that in Op. 122 Brahms' conception was a total departure from almost everything he had written before. In his previous compositions, the pianists, instrumentalists and vocalists were able to emphasize and bring out musical lines in a way most suitable for the performance. I find it very unlikely that Brahms would prohibit emphasis of these obscured melodic lines--in fact, he probably would find the very question incomprehensible.

There are two ways to treat these lines. One can choose "solo" stops of exactly the same character as the accompaniment so that the principal difference between solo and accompaniment is volume, or one can choose a contrasting tone color. The former approach is probably more characteristic, although I must confess that the temptation to solo the tenor portions of Es ist ein Ros' on a Clarinet is very strong. The Clarinet was one of Brahms' favorite instruments, and if one has a nice one it may serve quite well. One doesn't have to play these works exactly the same way each and every time. The tenor melody in Es ist ein Ros' can be played on the pedals as suggested in the Biggs' edition (see Figure 10). But an alternative solution, which Leslie Spelman learned from Joseph Bonnet, is to play both the bass and tenor on the pedals starting on the third beat of m. 5, leaving the left hand free to solo the melody (see Figure 11).30

O Gott, du frommer Gott is one of the longest and most graceful of the chorales. One can very easily play the cantus on the Pedal 4' Chorale Bass. Draw 8' stops (at least the 8' Diapason and flute) on both the Great and Swell and couple them. Thus in the forte sections played on the Great, the Swell box can give an arch to the line. And in the piano sections played on the Swell, the box allows expression and perfect balance whether the solo soars out above or is buried within the accompaniment. The timbre of the Chorale Bass would be quite similar to the Diapason and flute of the Swell, with just a boost to the volume (see Figure 12). For emphasis one can add the Swell 4' Octave in measures 22-26, 50-54 and during the final five bars, but there is no indication that the forte section with which the work concludes should be significantly louder than the forte section with which it begins.

Repeated Notes

In the slower of Brahms' chorales, repeated notes in the soprano and bass should always be articulated, but there are some decisions to make about the inner voices. No. 11 O Welt, ich muss dich lassen is an excellent case in point. Though instances occur throughout the piece, the final three bars with their implied molto ritardando are critical. One might very well separate all the repeated notes in a room with five seconds reverberation. But see Figure 13 for a suggestion of adding ties on the inner voices to have the feeling of repetition without choppiness. This is not to say that Brahms should "ooze." In mm. 24-25 of the same chorale are two instances where added phrasing marks in the left hand and pedal can help set up the ending (see Figure 14).

Conclusion

Brahms' Chorale Preludes are very special compositions. As Fenner Douglas once observed, it's too bad for organists that Brahms didn't have a church job for a while, so that we might have more works from this master. I would urge those interested to seek out the cited articles by Bozarth, Gotwals, Miller, Peterson and Schuneman for a broader scope and fuller understanding of the problems and possibilities these works present. Playing these works expressively on the piano is also very helpful, as is experimenting with legato and super legato touch on the organ. Those who unlock the secrets of Op. 122 will not just have gained eleven lovely pieces for their repertoire--they will have learned things of inestimable value which they can apply in countless other works. n

Appendix: Survey of Opus 122 Recordings

The Early Recordings

Of the four late '50s and early '60s recordings, the best are by Robert Noehren and Franz Eibner, but none of them leaves you wishing for a reissue on CD. Dr. Noehren's Brahms (Lyrichord LLST 7123) is well played with sufficient rubato and convincing transitions between sections. But both of the Noehren organs he recorded on were totally unenclosed 2-manual organs with Positiv rather than Swell. The lack of a swell box and absence of registrational variety limited this recording.

Franz Eibner (Teldec SLT 43018-B) had the best organ of the early LPs. The 3-manual, 61-voice Walcker in Vienna's Votivkirche dates from 1878 and was certainly heard by Brahms. The organ's sound--with its rich palette of flutes, strings and principals--is most appropriate to Brahms. Eibner's playing, though consistently a bit stiff, borders on satisfactory, with suitable rubato at times but some awkward transitions. Some chorales, like Schmücke dich, he trots through with no regard to musical subtleties.

The other two early recordings are very disappointing. Karl Richter's recording on the Steinmeyer in the Herkules-Saal in München (Deutsche Grammophon 138906 SLPM) features a most unattractive organ sound. His registrations overemphasize screechy upperwork and de-emphasize the fundamental, sometimes creating a "music box" effect. Richter's playing is completely insensitive to the music, charging right through Opus 122 from start to finish.

Kurt Rapf's recording on the organ of Vienna's Ursulinenklosters is even worse, with an organ sound lacking fundamental but featuring prominent chiff on the manuals and a loud, deep and murky pedal sound. The plenum on No. 11 has searing mixtures, snarly reeds, booming bass and no "middle." Rapf's playing displays the fastest tempos at which these pieces have ever been recorded. All of the notes are there, but none of the music.

The Best of the Modern Recordings

(Note: All the CDs except Arkay include the complete works of Brahms.)

One of the most satisfying recordings to date is by Carole Terry on the 4-manual Flentrop of St. Mark's Cathedral in Seattle (Musical Heritage Society MHS 512523M). Blessed with a rich palette of principals and flutes in a gorgeous acoustic, the organ has a fine sound although the pair of Gemshorns on the Swell are a far cry from real strings. This recording was made before the recent rebuild added a wonderful 32' Posaune to the Pedal and an 8' Trumpet to the Great, plus enabled the 32' Prestant to actually speak. Ms. Terry's playing is simply elegant. She has a real empathy with Brahms and uses rubato and phrasing to create a truly musical result. The two settings of Herzlich tut mich verlangen are the high point of the recording: No. 9 is quite virile on a big registration and No. 10 is the essence of sensitivity.

Another fine recording on LP, unfortunately out of print, is by Bernard Lagacé (Titanic TI-38).  He recorded Opus 122 on the 1977 2-manual 23-voice Wolff organ in New York's Eighth Church of Christ Scientist. The neoclassic design has its limitations for Brahms, but Lagacé uses it fully and well. His playing is inventive, lively and sensitive.  Hopefully this recording will be reissued on CD.

Nicholas Danby made an elegant recording on the organ of the Church of the Immaculate Conception in London (CRD 3404). This 3-manual 44-voice organ is of some historical interest, having been built by Anneesens in 1876, rebuilt by Bishop in 1914, and completely remodeled in 1926 by Henry Willis III to the designs of G. Donald Harrison and Guy Weitz (organist from 1917 to 1967). Its virile plenum (with tierce mixtures), typically English reeds, rich foundations and colorful flutes make for a varied listening experience. Unfortunately, Danby failed to use the two sets of strings, but his playing is imaginative, solid and sensitive. A high point is an attractively up-tempo rendition of Herzlich tut mich erfreuen with well handled transitions between the forte and piano sections, and a sensible (that is to say, slight) volume differential between the sections. All in all, a rewarding experience.

The Interesting Middle Ground

Georges Athanasiadès has made a charming recording on the huge 103-stop Jann organ of 1989 in the lush acoustics of the wildly Baroque Basilica of Waldsassen (Tudor 790). It missed the first tier only because of a severe lapse of taste on the chorale No. 1, where the cantus in the pedal is registered on flue stops plus a set of tubular bells--the effect is ghastly. But in the remaining ten chorales, Athanasiadès proves to be a resourceful player who provides the most tasteful registrational variety of all the recordings. In Herzliebster Jesu and O wie selig he goes to an extraordinary effort to solo out the melody--unnecessary, but interesting and not at all unpleasant. He makes tasteful use of the tremulant on the pedal cantus of the second Herzlich tut mich verlangen and on a splendid rendition of Es ist ein ros'. In the final chorale he exhibits a sensitive balance between the forte, piano and pp sections, with a very attractive string celeste based pp section. Clearly Mr. Athanasiadès has many good ideas and much to offer on this CD.

Jean-Pierre Leguay, one of the four titular organists of Notre Dame in Paris, has made an impressive recording on the monumental 4-manual 1890 Cavaillé-Coll at the Abbey of Saint Ouen in Rouen (Euro Muses 590073 AD 184).  This organ--lavishly equipped with diapasons, a great variety of flutes, several sets of strings and reeds galore--is actually not far from what one might consider an "ideal" Brahms organ. All the stops are colorful, and there is a great amount of variety in the 8' range. The massed unison stops, which are exhibited in Herzliebster Jesu, sing beautifully. For a climactic effect, nothing in the recorded literature of Opus 122 quite matches the final section of the first chorale, where Mr. Leguay adds the 32' Bombarde to an already grand plenum. Some of the chorales, Nos. 4-6 and 11 for example, are given a rather indifferent treatment, but O Gott, du frommer Gott sparkles in a high-energy high-volume treatment with reeds in both the forte and piano sections. A tasteful Es ist ein Ros' alternates a beautiful string celeste with a quiet flute. Opting for contrast and clarity, Mr. Leguay gives the pedal cantus in Herzlich tut mich verlangen to a Trompette. This recording is recommended for generally excellent playing and a quite stupendous sound.

Jacques van Oortmerssen chose the 1906 Setterquist organ of the Kristine Church in Falun, Sweden for his recording of the works of Brahms (BIS-CD-479). This 2-manual 30-stop instrument is based on the French Romantic organs of Cavaillé-Coll, but the sound is a far cry from St. Ouen. There are some lovely individual stops, but the plenum with pedal is murky and a 2' Octava sticks out rather than blending. Oortmerssen's usually elegant playing is uneven, with one chorale singing and soaring and the next plodding quirkily along. He does observe the implied crescendo in O wie selig and builds to a satisfying forte.

Herman Schäffer chose a 4-manual 92-stop 1911 Steinmeyer at the Christuskirche in Mannheim for his Brahms recording (Motette CD 10711). This instrument offers generally attractive sounds and great variety, but Schäffer's playing is uneven. Herzliebster Jesu has no energy and a painfully slow O Welt, ich muss dich lassen (No. 3) falls flat, but these are followed by an energetic and stylish Herzlich tut mich erfreuen.  Schäffer loves contrast, and solos the melody in Schmücke dich on an oboe, the pedal cantus in Herzlich tut mich verlangen (No. 10) on a trumpet, and the melody in O wie selig on a Nazard combination (with the bass played on a heavy and murky 16' pedal). In Es ist ein Ros', Herzlich tut mich verlangen (No. 9) and O Welt, ich muss dich lassen (No. 11) the contrast between the forte and piano sections is far too great. Within these works, however, there are registrations of great beauty, including some luscious string celestes. In sum, the playing and interpretations are uneven and the largely original historic organ is of interest.

Recordings Of Lesser Merit

One might think that recording Brahms on a 1965 4-manual 56-stop Marcussen organ would give a thin, chiffy and uncharacteristic sound (Nimbus NI 882 286-909). On the organ at the Odense Domkirche this is not so, although the upperwork (used only in the first chorale) is too intense. Kevin Bowyer's registrations prove that this instrument can give an appropriate sounds to Opus 122. His playing is another matter, though--tempos seem either to be too fast or too slow. For example, he makes a race out of Herz-lich tut mich erfreuen. But whether the tempo is fast or slow, he doesn't offer much more than the notes. In O Welt, ich muss dich lassen (No. 3) he misinterprets the slurs over the two eighth note groups for a very choppy result. His favorite chorale would seem to be Herzlich tut mich verlangen (No. 10), as he gives a very sensitive performance of it (at 4:38 the slowest of all the recorded performances) with a lush sound and a lovely articulate solo flute with tremulant for the cantus solo. Would that the other ten chorales had had this degree of attention.

Jonathan Dimmock recorded Opus 122 on a 2-manual 26-stop Frobenius at St. Stephen's Episcopal in Belvedere, California (Arkay AR 6113). A visceral involvement with the music seems to be missing, and there are some note problems. Dimmock followed a basically conservative approach to registration, passing on the opportunity for a true forte even for No. 9 Herzlich tut mich verlangen. Although he did make good use of the Gambe Celeste in two chorales, it was an unfortunate choice to solo the melody in O Gott du frommer Gott on the Swell Oboe, because this precluded a significant contrast between the forte and piano sections, a key element of the work.  Whereas O wie selig is satisfying with a nice Oboe combination, No. 11 O Welt, ich muss dich lassen receives a perfunctory performance without the crucial implied ritards between the pp and forte sections.

Robert Parkins recording on the large Flentrop in the Duke University Chapel would seem to have a lot going for it (Naxos 8.550824). A lush acoustic, large organ, talented performer. Large as the Flentrop is, however, is has no expressive divisions and no strings--one wonders how Opus 122 would have fared on the spectacular Aeolian at the front end of Duke Chapel. Parkins gets around this limitation well, however, and the massed 8' tones provide needed warmth. His tempos are the key problem--Nos. 1, 2, 3, 7 and 9 are or are among the slowest tempos on record. The energy of these pieces drains away and you are left wanting to shout "Get on with it!" Balance this criticism with artful performances of No. 4, 6, 10 and an especially sensitive rubato in No. 11. Interesting though flawed, but at a bargain price.

Rudolph Innig's performance of Opus 122 has little to recommend it (Dabringhaus and Grimm MD+GL 3137). The 3-manual Klais organ at St. Dionysius in Rheine is a lightweight neoclassical design with lots of mutations which Innig, unfortunately, uses.  His interpretations feature separated pickups, which are decidedly un-Brahmsian, and a general lack of sensitivity to the music.

 

Notes

                  1.              Heinz Becker, "Johannes Brahms," The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 1980, Vol. 3, p. 161.

                  2.              Peter Williams, Review in The Organ Quarterly.

                  3.              Anonymous essay on "Brahms' 11 Chorale Preludes" on Lyrichord LP (LL 123).

                  4.              E. Power Biggs, Preface, Brahms' Chorale Preludes, Mercury Music Corporation, 1949, p. 2.

                  5.              Becker, op. cit., pp. 173-174.

                  6.              Robert Schuneman, "Brahms and the Organ," Music/The AGO-RCCO Magazine, September, 1972, p. 34.

                  7.              Schuneman, op. cit., p. 34.

                  8.              Jonathan Ambrosino, "Lessons with Dr. Courboin--A Conversation with Richard Purvis," The Erzähler, Volume 4, Number 3, January, 1995, pp. 3-4.

                  9.              Brahms' Complete Organ Works, ed. by Walter E. Buszin and Paul G. Bunjes, Edition Peters.

                  10.           Peter Williams, The European Organ 1450-1850, published by The Organ Literature Foundation, 1967, pp. 94-95.

                  11.           Vernon Gotwals, "Brahms and the Organ," Music/The AGO-RCCO Magazine, April, 1970, p. 42.

                  12.           Günter Lade, Orgeln in Wien, Austria, 1990, p. 184.

                  13.           Franz Ebner, Program Notes to Teldec LP: SLT 43018-B.

                  14.           Max B. Miller, "The Brahms Chorale Preludes Master Lesson," TAO, April, 1979, pp. 43-46.

                  15.           Schuneman, op. cit., pp. 32-33.

                  16.           John David Peterson, "Some Thoughts on the Sound of the Organ," The Diapason, April, 1981, p. 16.

                  17.           Schuneman, op. cit., p. 34.

                  18.           Imogen Fellinger, Uber die Dynamik in der Musik von Johannes Brahms, (Berlin and Wunsiedel: Hesse 1961), p. 20. Translated by and cited in Schuneman, op. cit., p. 34.

                  19.           The "median" is the middle value in a distribution of data--half of the times are shorter and half are longer than the median.

                  20.           Robert A. Schuneman, "Playing Around With Tempo," The Diapason, May, 1970, p. 16.

                 21.           Arthur Rubenstein, The Chopin Nocturnes, RCA 5613-2-RC (two CD set).

                  22.           Schuneman, "Tempo," op. cit., p. 16.

                  23.           Peter Hurford, Making Music on the Organ, Oxford University Press, 1990, p. 67.

                  24.           George S. Bozarth, "Brahms Organ Works: A New Critical Edition," The American Organist, June, 1988, p. 56.

                  25.           Miller, op. cit., p. 46.

                  26.           Less a brief "lift" on the first quarter note in measure one, so it can sound again on beat three.

                  27.           Leslie Spelman, in a February, 1995, masterclass.

                  28.           Bozarth, op. cit., p. 57.

                  29.           Gotwals, op. cit., p. 48.

                  30.           Masterclass, February, 1995.

Permission to reproduce segments from Werke für Orgel granted by G. Henle Verlag.

 

Other articles of interest:

Franz Liszt and Johann Gottlob Töpfer: A Fruitful Relationship in Weimar

Théodore Dubois and César Franck at Sainte-Clotilde

Brahms Opus 122 in score

Related Content

New Recordings

David Wagner
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Organ Works of Johannes Brahms (1833–1897), Scott Hanoian, Washington National Cathedral. JAV Recordings, JAV 170;
<www.pipeorgancds.com&gt;.
Eleven Chorale Preludes, op. 122: 1. Mein Jesu, der du mich; 2. Herzliebster Jesu; 3. O Welt, ich muss dich lassen; 4. Herzlich tut mich erfreuen; 5. Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele; 6. O wie selig seid ihr doch, ihr Frommen; 7. O Gott, du frommer Gott; 8. Es ist ein Ros’ entsprungen; 9. Herzlich tut mich verlangen; 10. Herzlich tut mich verlangen; 11. O Welt, ich muss dich lassen. Prelude and Fugue in A Minor; Prelude on “O Traurigkeit, o Herzeleid”; Fugue in A-flat Major; Prelude and Fugue in G Minor.
It has been said that the Eleven Chorale Preludes are a summation for Johannes Brahms of “last things.” Written in the last year of Brahms’s life and published after his death as his opus 122, they were composed in the summer and the fall of 1896, shortly after the death of his lifetime friend, mentor, advisor and fellow musician Clara Schumann. How can one sum up the importance of Clara Schumann in the life of Johannes Brahms? It would be equally as difficult to sum up the impact of Bach on the lives of people who love and play the organ. Just as Brahms may have been influenced by events in 1854, with an attempted suicide of Robert Schumann, and his own mother’s death in 1865 when he produced Ein deutsches Requiem, so it can be posited that Brahms was so moved to write his Eleven Chorale Preludes on the death of Clara Schumann and with awareness of his own impending death.
Thus, all of the chorale tunes have to do with “last things” and the gentle acceptance, as in the German Requiem, that all creatures that are mortal will die. Just as the German Requiem is meant too as a comfort for the living, so too do the Eleven Chorale Preludes treat these most profound issues with comfort, clarity, and conciseness of form. Further, all are treated with not only a complete understanding of the Baroque chorale prelude style as exhibited by Scheidt, Buxtehude, Bruhns, and of course J. S. Bach, but all have the rich harmonic language of late 19th-century German romanticism and of the harmonic turns and style of Brahms that prove to be a rich synthesis of these two great traditions.
Also touching on the idea of “last things” in this recording are two further intersecting stories that also have to do with final chapters. The organist is Scott Hanoian, who at the time was the assistant organist and assistant director of music at Washington National Cathedral. Soon after the completion of this recording, Mr. Hanoian accepted a new position as director of music at Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan, where he now leads an extensive music program and presides over a relatively new instrument from Harrison & Harrison from Durham, England.
The second story is the organ itself. Built in 1938 by Ernest M. Skinner, the original design of the organ for the cathedral called for the instrument to adequately fill the smaller space of the present day choir with organ tone. At that time, Washington National Cathedral was a much smaller building, and no one knew if or when the plans for the grand cathedral would ever be finished. Such was the case of many buildings that were part of a larger plan. The building where Hanoian now presides in Grosse Pointe, Michigan is a permanent church, yet when it was constructed in the early 1930s it was intended to be the chapel of a much larger building that will now never be built. All that remains of that grand plan is a painting of the grand edifice, which hangs in the undercroft of the church, not far from the subdivision built in the 1940s that claims the land for the unfulfilled structure.
Washington National Cathedral was much more fortunate. After World War II their grand plan was realized, and it became apparent to all that the initial Skinner organ would not be sufficient to the size and to the tastes of a new generation of organists and musicians who were more influenced by G. Donald Harrison’s ideas than those of Ernest M. Skinner. Changes came to the venerable Skinner organ over the years, from a new console in 1958, two “Baroque” additions in 1963, a trompette en chamade above the high altar, and further work from 1970 to 1975, with the addition of more than 7,000 new pipes, bringing the size of the instrument to nine divisions and 10,650 pipes. An organist has to know the instrument very well and have “lived with it” to know its heritage and lineage, to know where Mr. Skinner left off and Mr. Whiteford from Aeolian-Skinner, along with others, picked up. This is the advantage of having a recording on an instrument played by an incumbent who had come to not only know the instrument but love it for all of its strengths and its weaknesses.
Now the cathedral is embarking on another project involving two famous builders who will totally change the sound of this instrument forever. Both are firms of the highest artistic quality, and the cathedral is getting two new organs: in the east section a totally new instrument by the Dobson Pipe Organ Company of Lake City, Iowa. Dobson says it will utilize the best of the present instrument, but as the organ program notes state: “ . . . but newly refigured and at a fitting size.” All that is known to the general public is that most of the new instrument will be placed behind the grand case fronts that exist in the choir. In the west gallery, a totally new instrument by Casavant Frères of St. Hyacinthe, Quebec will be the counterpart of the east choir organ, and both instruments will be able to be controlled by a new console in the choir. All of this will be happening by the year 2011. Work and planning on these instruments have already begun.
That being said, the “last things” aspect of this recording are united; the last substantial works of Brahms played on in instrument that for all intents and purposes will no longer exist, from a young musician who came to know and love it and has himself left a final musical statement in this recording before he has moved on.
I think it is fair to say that many of us who buy organ recordings take into consideration three factors: the music, the performer, and the instrument. Here is a perfect synthesis concerning the music of Brahms and these chorale prelude works that so many organists have always considered an essential part of their repertoire. In this recording, Hanoian uses almost exclusively the Ernest M. Skinner organ at Washington National Cathedral, letting the later massive editions remain silent. It is a wise choice, and the playing here is seamless, with a wonderful late romantic legato and just the right amount of tempo rubato that are the hallmarks of the romantic keyboard style. Yet with the sumptuous legato that Mr. Hanoian exhibits, there is always clarity of line; the tender Es ist ein Ros’ entsprungen, in some ways the most elusive of the set with the tune hidden in one of the inner voices surrounded by layers of accompaniment, is clearly heard in the beautiful voicing of the Skinner stops. Even in the more strictly contrapuntal works, such as the more fugal Mein Jesu, der du mich or the first of the O Welt, ich muss dich lassen settings, there is no lack of clarity in the style of playing or in the choice of registration. In these eleven chorale preludes there is a lifetime of musical experiences summed up by one of the greatest composers of the Romantic period. Hanoian plays this music with a depth of understanding and sensitivity well beyond his years, truly impressive for such a young musician. He has made a true connection to this music and to the richness that is found from bar to bar.
Also included are early works. We know now how very critical Brahms was of his own writing and that he destroyed up to 20 (!) string quartets before the publication of his very first quartet, or how he labored for more than fifteen years on his first symphony, and that even his first piano concerto began its life planned as the first symphony. How many organ works have not come down to us because Brahms felt they were not worthy?
The early Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, written in 1857 and dedicated to Clara Schumann, is one of the works that he did feel was worthy to be preserved, and is in the strict contrapuntal style based on the Baroque models that Brahms admired so much. This work also is played using the full resources of the cathedral Skinner organ, and on hearing it one wonders how anyone could have felt the sound of that early instrument to be inadequate in any way. Again, Hanoian plays this work with grandeur and with the expansive sweeping 19th-century style that is so very much at home on the Skinner organ.
This is another fine project of JAV recordings, a label that has specialized not only in organ recordings, but in documenting important instruments and making of them an audio portrait for future generations. How important it will be for archival purposes to have these recordings, especially after instruments have been changed, altered, or restructured well beyond their present day configurations. Then add to this a young musician like Scott Hanoian, who lived with the instrument and also had a great affection for it. Those of us who have loved and played particular instruments know exactly what it means to have that type of close musical collaboration with keyboards and pipes that is difficult to describe to non-organists. Hanoian’s playing takes full advantage of his knowledge of the instrument. This recording is a fine tribute not only to this organ and to the music of Brahms, but also to Scott Hanoian and his artistry.
David Wagner
Detroit, Michigan

Organ Historical Society Convention, Buffalo, New York, July 14-20, 2004, Part II

PART TWO OF TWO

Ronald Dean

Ronald E. Dean is Organist and Choirmaster at the Church of the Holy Cross (Episcopal) in Shreveport, Louisiana and Professor of Music, Emeritus, at the Hurley School of Music, Centenary College. A graduate of Williams College and the University of Michigan, his organ study was with Frederick Kinsley, Robert Barrow and Robert Noehren. His reviews appear from time to time in this journal.

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Sunday

The day's events began with the Annual Meeting held at the headquarters hotel with OHS President Michael Friesen presiding. Among the items of general interest was a report by Scot Huntington on the following organ preservation successes: St. Thomas, Boston; St. Casimir's, New Haven; and Nativity, Buffalo. Further items of note were as follows: a new endowment fund drive is to begin to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the OHS; Dr. Gregory Crowell is the new Director of Publications; the signing of a protocol of cooperation between the Archives in Princeton and BIOS and RCO in England, a representative of which was in attendance--thus a data base on organs is about to happen. The next OHS convention will be in southeastern Massachusetts (the Old Colony), and Rhode Island, July 12-18, 2005. Later ones are slated to be held in the Saratoga-Albany area in 2006, Indianapolis in 2007, and Seattle in 2008.

Following the meeting, Jeff Weiler delivered an illustrated historical lecture entitled "History of the Wurlitzer Organ." He featured remarks on the Wurlitzer family itself as well as the various enterprises that occupied their time and business talents. He outlined the interest in automatic musical instruments (including the "Gee, Dad, it's a Wurlitzer" jukebox) as well as pipe organ manufacture and their association with the eccentric genius, Robert Hope-Jones (see the remarks on the Ambrosino lecture given on the preceding Friday), and their production of the Hope-Jones Unit Orchestra. They built some 2,200 pipe organs from 1910 until 1943 with the largest being the instrument in Radio City Music Hall.

A short bus ride to the suburb of North Tonawanda brought us to another fine catered luncheon with ample time provided to wander up Melody Lane (!) to view the massive former complex of the Rudolph Wurlitzer Manufacturing Company with its landmark central tower. The facilities are now used for diversified industrial activities, offices and storage. Even though Wurlitzer is long gone, two consoles are on display just inside the main tower entrance.

On our way to the next event, the buses drove down Melody Lane, and at its intersection with Erie Avenue, there appeared a sign proclaiming, "Wurlitzer Pizza Company—We Deliver" (tibia toppings with phonon sauce?). Further on we passed the imposing and well-maintained former home of Farny Wurlitzer, a lovely pillared neo-classical residence with a large garden area to one side.

The first recital of the day was at Ascension R.C. Church in North Tonawanda where Rhonda Sider Edgington played the following program on a lovely restored 1-manual Felgemaker (Op. 601) of 1895: "Duetto III in G" from Clavierübung III, Bach; Partita on "Herzlich tut mich verlangen," Pachelbel; the hymn, "There's a wideness in God's mercy," sung with flute accompaniment to the tune St. Helena; "Pastoral" from Organ Sonata No. 20 in F (op. 196), Rheinberger; "O Welt, ich muss dich lassen" and "Schmücke dich, o liebe seele" from Eleven Chorale Preludes (op. 122, 1897), Brahms; and "Postlude Festival" from Deux Pièces en Ré Mineur, Reuchsel. The organ, situated in the rear gallery of this intimate and neat small church, sounded its solid, yet clear and bright ensembles to great advantage under the expert hands of Ms. Edgington, who wisely chose a program to suit the resources of the instrument.

A modest-sized 3-manual Schlicker of 1966 situated in a typical 1960s building was the venue for the next recital, a program by Frederick Teardo. The church, First Trinity Lutheran in Tonawanda, was Herman Schlicker's home parish. His widow, Alice Schlicker, was in attendance for the program and received an affectionate ovation. The program: Praeludium in d (BuxWV 140), Buxtehude; "Tierce en taille" from Livre d'Orgue, DuMage; "Allegro" from Trio Sonata No. 5 in C (BWV 529), Bach; "Lullaby" from Suite No. 2, Hampton; and The Ninety-Fourth Psalm: Sonata for Organ, Reubke, followed by the singing of the hymn, "The day thou gavest" to the tune St. Clement. The organ, which has received several changes and refinements over the years, has a full-bodied, bright, intense, but never cloying sound. It is well-balanced and features relaxed, warm and singing Principals with mild and charming attack sounds in the speech of the pipes. One's first reaction might be that the Reubke Sonata would not be a good choice for this organ, but Teardo made it work through his registration choices and expansive phrasing. He is a young artist who knows how to communicate music through his elegant playing.

The final recital of the day was played by the energetic and brilliant Gail Archer who prefaced her program with both entertaining and cogent comments. The locale was the rather bleak and undecorated interior of the Kenmore Presbyterian Church, which houses another landmark Schlicker that has undergone several revisions during its lifetime. The instrument became familiar to audiophiles as the one on which Robert Noehren recorded several LPs. Its sound features the fully developed, clear, bright and cohesive sound associated with Schlicker's evolving work.

Instead of a grand evening recital, there was a very enjoyable dinner cruise on portions of the Niagara River and Lake Erie. The continually threatening weather moderated and provided a pleasant backdrop for both good dining and convivial conversation.

Monday

The day's events began with one group going to the Buffalo and Erie County Historical Society and another proceeding to the beautiful, park-like and enormous Forest Lawn Cemetery to hear Justin Hartz perform on a gem of a four-rank unified Wurlitzer, Op. 2182 of 1933. Located in an intimate and acoustically superb stone chapel, this fine organ speaks through a wonderfully painted scrim which, at first glance, appears to be a stained glass window. The instrument has a carefully balanced sound and is well-maintained. Hartz entitled his short program &"Going out in Style&": Fountain Reverie, Fletcher; Twilight Musings, Kinder (featuring the Flute, Oboe Horn and Diapason); &"When Day Is Done&" (arr. Hartz) (played in &"Mighty Wurlitzer&" theatre style with reminiscences of both Jesse Crawford and Ethel Smith); Festival Prelude (introducing Palestrina's tune, &"The Strife Is O'er&"), Buck; and the hymn, &"Just a closer walk with Thee.&"

We then exchanged places with the group that had already visited the Historical Society Museum. This marble building is the only surviving one of many that were constructed for the 1901 Pan American Exposition, a World's Fair remembered, among other things, as the place where President William McKinley was shot. The museum houses many fascinating exhibits of Buffalo-area industrial products, and conventioneers had ample time to wander among the displays as a cozily installed Aeolian (Op. 1183 of 1911) demonstrated its voice by means of an automatic playing mechanism. Of interest also in the small auditorium, home of the Aeolian, were a 1-manual Derrick & Felgemaker of 1868 and an anonymous small English cabinet organ. We had a box lunch at the museum as the other group returned from Forest Lawn.

Since more than ample time was allotted for a trip to Middleport to hear two nearly identical Barckhoffs, the group spent some time wandering around the pretty town, which is situated on a working portion of the historic Erie Canal. A local sweet shop, close to the bridge, did an extraordinary business selling soft-serve cones to scores of conventioneers. The owners may have made their year's profit from the visitors during just this one afternoon. Because of limited seating in the two churches, we again split into two groups and were within comfortable walking distance for each repeated program. Former Biggs Scholar J. R. Daniels played a short recital on the 1902 2-manual Barckhoff tracker in the First Universalist Church: Prelude, Harris; Canon, Salomé; the hymn, &"Those who love and those who labor&" sung to the tune Domhnach Trionoide; Prelude on &"Beach Spring&" and Processional in E-flat, Wood. Daniels handled the instrument well and chose his pieces to show the various colors available on the small but solidly distinguished and well-maintained instrument.

Jason Alden performed on Barckhoff's 2-manual tracker of 1906 in the former Trinity Episcopal Church now occupied by the Middleport Fundamental Baptist Church. The organ, although visually quite different from that in the Universalist church, is identical in stoplist except that this instrument has a 2' Flautino in the Swell. The acoustics are certainly a challenge with a totally carpeted interior and a treated ceiling. Alden, always a reliably fine and sensitive player, presented the following program: Echoes of Spring, Friml (arr. Barnes); La Romanesca, Valente; &"Lied&" from Vingt-Quatre Pièces en Style Libre (op. 31), Vierne; A Joyous Postlude, Mallard; and the hymn, &"Shepherd, show me how to go,&" sung to the tune Feed My Sheep.

Following another bus ride through scenic western New York farm lands, we arrived at the charming small community of Wolcottsville where Mary Ann Cruger Balduf exhibited her usual musical creativity and apt programming sense on the second 1-manual organ heard in the convention, an 1897 Hinners and Albertsen in Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church. Prior to the program, the pastor gave enthusiastic welcoming remarks and noted that the instrument has been played every Sunday since its installation in 1897. The intimate church was filled by the large assembly of conventioneers; many parishioners assembled outside, furnished with a sound system that allowed them to hear the music. The same hospitable and appreciative people had set up tables with refreshments that were eagerly consumed following the recital. Balduf played the following program: Processional Fanfare, Rawsthorne; Verset, Lefébure-Wély; &"Improvisation&" from Suite Médiévale, Vierne; Fantaisie in A, Bach; Voluntary in A, Taylor; &"Interlude&" and &"Cantique&" from Sixty Short Pieces, Peeters; &"Chorale&" and &"Ground&" from Fifteen Pieces for Organ, Ridout; the hymn, &"For all the saints,&" sung with great gusto to the tune Sine Nomine; and Festival Postlude, (op. 32), Seifert. Balduf treated this dandy little organ with both verve and expertise, making the most of the keyboard division into treble and bass registers for solo and accompaniment effects. Brian Buehler acted as console assistant.

A bus trip back to Buffalo and the campus of the State University of New York at Buffalo brought us to one of the campus dining halls for dinner. We then took a short and unhurried stroll to Slee Hall for the evening presentation, a concert by the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra with associate conductor Ronald Spiegelman on the podium and David Schrader the featured soloist on the 1990 3-manual Fisk (Op. 95) in three major works: Symphony No. 1 for Organ and Orchestra, Guilmant; Snow Walker (1990), Colgrass; and Concerto No. 1 for Organ and Orchestra in E-flat (op. 55, 1902), Parker. The organ is located in its own alcove above and to the rear of the stage. Though possessing a commanding sound, the instrument was never overpowering and blended with and conversed amicably with the sound of the orchestra. The avant-garde Colgrass Snow Walker was a tour de force for both organist and orchestra, but Schrader, Spiegelman and the Buffalo Philharmonic played the work admirably. The hall, though not very reverberant, is acoustically quite sympathetic, and even with a near-capacity crowd, the organ and orchestral colors bloomed and enveloped the listeners.

Tuesday

The final day of the convention began with an expertly played recital by Bruce Stevens on the historic Garret House 2-manual tracker of 1860 housed in St. Stephen R.C. Church, Shrine of St. Jude, Buffalo. The organ, the largest surviving example by the Buffalo builder House, was originally installed in First Presbyterian's former church building. Stevens's program: two settings of Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland (BWV 659 and BWV 661), Bach; two versions of Es ist ein Ros' entsprungen, one by Heiller and one by Brahms; Introduction et Variations sur un ancient noël polonaise, Guilmant; Prelude on &"The Holly and the Ivy,&" Sumsion; Five noëls from L'Organiste, Franck; Grand-choeur varié sur un noël breton, Marty; Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern, Gade; and the singing of the hymn, &"O Morning Star, how fair and bright,&" sung to the tune Wie schön leuchtet. The program was organized to include music suitable for the seasons of Advent, Christmas and Epiphany. The organ, with its elaborately decorated Italianate case, sits grandly in the rear gallery (sharing space with a Hammond) and adds a complementary visual interest to the high-ceilinged and reverberant Gothic church. Stevens handled the instrument masterfully in spite of the fact that it obviously needs (and deserves) a complete restoration. Larry Pruett and Tony Marchesano had worked many hours prior to the recital to provide as much tonal and mechanical ministration as was possible so that one could get more than a hint of the organ's potentially dignified grandeur.

A bus tour to the south of Buffalo offered yet another occasion for viewing some of the varied scenery of this part of western New York. This time we went through rolling hills to the delightful small town of Boston and St. John the Baptist R.C. Church to hear a transplanted 2-manual Felgemaker tracker of 1901. The organ, originally installed in Our Lady of Lourdes R.C. Church on Main Street, Buffalo, was restored in 1991 by Tenerowicz Pipe Organ Service and replaced an electronic in the gallery of the Boston church. After a welcome by the pastor, Tim Socha played the following program and gave helpful comments on his registrations: the chorale, Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland, sung by all and followed by the Bach chorale-prelude, BWV 661; Sonata in g for flute (op. 16, no. 10), Vivaldi (with fine flute playing by Melissa Stewart); the chorale, Schmücke dich, sung by all and alternating with the variations by Walther (a very effective procedure); Concerto in F for Flute (op. 10, no. 5), Vivaldi (again with Melissa Stewart on the flute); and the chorale, In dir ist Freude, sung by all and followed by Bach's setting, BWV 615. The early 20th-century organ seemed quite content in its 1967 locale and sang out proudly under Tim Socha's expert playing. In spite of wall-to-wall carpet and acoustical tiles in the ceiling of the side aisles, the organ sound carried well and supported the vigorous hymn singing well.

After a wonderful barbeque lunch topped off with several choices of home-made ice cream (the black cherry was particularly delicious!), we reboarded the buses for a scenic trip to East Aurora (which, curiously, is many miles west of the town of Aurora) and Baker Memorial United Methodist Church for a recital by Peter Stoltzfus on a 2-manual, 18-rank 1928 Skinner, Op. 727. His program: Passacaglia per organo, Frescobaldi (transcribed for piano by Respighi and arranged for organ by Sowerby); &"Allegro&" from Sonata III in F (Wq70, 3), C.P.E. Bach; &"Clair de lune&" from Pièces de Fantaisie, Deuxième Suite (op. 31, 1913) and &"Divertissement&" from 24 Pièces en Style Libre, both by Vierne; Stoltzfus's own Prelude and Fugue (op. 12); and the hymn, &"Christ, whose glory fills the skies,&" sung to the tune Ratisbon. As usual, Stoltzfus displayed his distinguished and elegant musicianship. He was aided at the console by Jonathan Ambrosino. The organ benefits from an ideal central location, thus speaking directly down the central axis of the room. Its big, yet bright and cohesive and clear sound is enhanced by hard reflective surfaces on the walls and ceiling vaults.

Our next stop was in Lancaster, New York, and Our Lady of Pompeii R.C. Church for a program on its 3-manual 1920 Möller, Op. 2959. It had been transplanted to the 1953 vintage church by organist Joe Momot and a group of dedicated and hard-working volunteers. They began the project in 1996 and carried it through its dedication in 2001. For a demonstration, Mark DiGiampaolo, director of music for St. Joseph's Cathedral, Buffalo, played An Organ Mass from the music of Alexandre Guilmant. He had chosen various sections from Guilmant's op. 90, op. 41, op. 49, op. 39, op. 55 and op. 46, organized according to the liturgical sections of a low mass. The building with its barrel vault ceiling helped give a good acoustical home for the organ, which is centrally located behind the free-standing altar with an Echo division in the rear gallery.  The organ (originally in the First Methodist Episcopal Church, Cortland, NY) has the typical 1920s somewhat heavy, yet dignified sound of many Möllers of the time.

After a festive closing banquet back at the Adam's Mark, we walked to the huge St. Joseph R.C. Cathedral, where we joined many parishioners and other guests to hear one of the outstanding events of the convention--a recital played by Ken Cowan on the cathedral's monumental 4-manual E. & G. G. Hook & Hastings organ, Op. 828 of 1876. After some enthusiastic welcoming remarks by Mark DiGiampaolo, Cowan played the following program:  Prelude and Fugue in B-flat, Conte; the hymn, &"Dear Lord and Father of Mankind,&" sung to the tune Repton; &"Scherzo&" from Symphony No. 6 (op. 59), Vierne; &"Clair de lune&" from Pièces de Fantaisie, Deuxième Suite (op. 53), Vierne; &"Prelude to Die Meistersinger,&" Wagner (arr. Warren/Lemare); Ciaccona in c (BuxWV 159), Buxtehude (using the organ's original stops); and The Ninety-Fourth Psalm, Reubke. For encores, he played a transcription of a Scherzo in B-flat, Poulenc, and the &"Final&" from Symphony No. 6 (op. 59), Vierne. As usual, Cowan played magnificently. His unassuming demeanor complements the dual nature of his playing--a combination of technical virtuosity and great musical understanding and sensitivity. For this performance on an extremely hot night in a sweltering catherdral, he was aided at the console by his father, organist David Cowan. The organ, originally built by Hook for the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition of 1876, was brought to St. Joseph's in 1877 and somewhat modified at that time so as to fit in the gallery. Over the years, it has received further rebuildings, the most recent being by the Andover Organ Company in 2001. Its new console was built by Robert M. Turner. The latest tonal additions were made in a style consistent with the heroic sound of the organ and the vast dimensions of the building. As an interesting historical demonstration, Cowan wisely included the Ciaccona of Buxtehude (see the program, above) to highlight some of the stops that were original to the organ. For more information on this important instrument, see Barbara Owen's article in the Bicentennial Tracker of 1976 (pp. 128-135) and Joseph McCabe's in The Tracker, Volume 48, No. 1 (Winter, 2004), pp. 24-27.

Historic organ citations were presented throughout the week to the following instruments and their churches: the Schlicker in St. Francis Xavier R.C. Church, the Kimball in the Church of the Ascension, Episcopal, the Skinner in Central Park United Methodist Church, the Schlicker in Trinity Episcopal Church, the Votteler-Holtkamp-Sparling in Jordan River Missionary Baptist Church, the Wurlitzer in the Chapel of Forest Lawn Cemetery, and the Hinners & Albertsen in Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church. These citations are given to the churches as an acknowledgement of the importance of their instruments and to encourage their use and preservation.

Another important continuing function of the OHS is the awarding of E. Power Biggs Fellowship grants to help subsidize attendance at OHS convention by specially nominated candidates. This year's recipients, announced by Derek Nickels, Chair of the Fellowship, prior to the Scanlon recital at St. Paul's Cathedral, were Michael Diorio, a student at Boston University, and Nathan Lemahieu, a student at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois.

All OHS conventions are both educational and enjoyable. They allow people with similar collegial interest in the history of North American organ building to gather for several days for live performances on a variety of worthy instruments. This year's convention committee, chaired by the tireless Joe McCabe, spent several years organizing the Buffalo area events, and all involved deserve our sincere gratitude for a successful convention. Buffalo may be New York State's second city, but the gathering was first rate.

The 2005 OHS Convention takes place July 12-18 in southeastern Massachusetts. For information: 

The Oboe and the Titan: Two Chorale Settings by Dame Ethel Smyth and Johannes Brahms

by Sarah Mahler Hughes
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Sarah Mahler Hughes is Associate Professor of Music and
Chair of the Department at Ripon College in Ripon, Wisconsin, where she teaches
organ, piano, music history, and directs the Collegium Musicum. She is the
author of articles on French Baroque dance rhythms in Couperin's organ Masses
and the piano works of Veronika Dussek Cianchettini.

The music of Dame Ethel Smyth (1858-1944), like that of her
older contemporary Johannes Brahms (1836-1897), simultaneously embraces the
language of Beethoven and Schumann and the contrapuntal techniques of J.S.
Bach.  Although works for organ
comprise but a small part of their respective oeuvres, both Smyth and Brahms
composed a set of chorale preludes for organ. Whereas Brahms' settings have
been widely studied and remained in print as a staple of organ repertoire,
however, Smyth's disappeared and were only recently reprinted.1 This discussion
will focus on the relationship between Brahms and Smyth and examine their
respective settings of the chorales "O Traurigkeit, O Herzeleid," and
"O Gott du frommer Gott," comparing and contrasting Brahms'
well-known settings with Smyth's much less familiar ones. The question of whether Smyth's works were merely overshadowed by Brahms', or were relegated to
obscurity because she was outside the musical establishment and,
coincidentally, a woman (her own view) inevitably arises in the context of such
a discussion.

Ethel Smyth, in the course of her long life, distinguished
herself as a composer, suffragette, and writer whose best-known musical works
are the monumental Mass in D (1891) for chorus, soloists, and orchestra, and
the opera, The Wreckers (1902-04). She counted the leading musical figures of
her day--Grieg, Tschaikovsky, Brahms, Clara Schumann, Bruno Walter, Sir Thomas
Beecham--among her friends, and she moved comfortably in aristocratic circles
despite her radical views on women's suffrage. Smyth's achievements were recognized in Britain by the universities of Durham, Oxford, and St. Andrew's, all of which conferred honorary D. Mus degrees upon her. In 1922, she was made a Dame of the British Empire, the equivalent of knighthood. In 1877, however, Ethel Smyth was a merely a young and very determined Englishwoman who had
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embarked on a course of study at the
Leipzig Conservatory after overcoming the opposition of her equally determined
father. Upon her return to England in 1884, she became interested in the organ
and its repertoire. Her works up to that point had consisted of piano pieces
and chamber music.  In her own
words, "I became bitten with organ-playing, which, as a sort of athletic
exercise, appealed to me far more than the violin, not to speak of the prospect
of tackling Bach on his own instrument."2 A friend took her to Bramshill
where Smyth heard Sir Frederick Ouseley, a pupil of Mendelssohn, improvise on
the organ. Smyth found his improvised fugues "Immensely musical and
effective . . . I was much impressed." 3 Smyth subsequently studied organ
with Sir Walter Parratt (1841-1924) of St. George's Chapel in Windsor. Smyth's
organ studies resulted in the composition of Short Chorale Preludes (1884,
published 1913). In this collection, Smyth set five chorales: "Du, O schönes Weltgebäude!", "O Gott du frommer Gott" (2 settings), "Schwing dich auf zu deinem Gott," "Erschienen ist der
herr-lich' Tag," and "O Traurigkeit, O Herzeleid."

Johannes Brahms was at the height of his career when Smyth
began her studies in Leipzig. She had heard Brahms' music for the first time at
a Saturday "pops" concert in London on which the
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Liebeslieder Walzes were performed by a
solo quartet. She wrote afterwards with characteristic enthusiasm, "That
day I saw the whole Brahms; other bigger and . . . more important works of his
were to kindle fresh fires later one, but his genius possessed me then and
there in a flash."4 Smyth later met Brahms at the home of Heinrich and
Elizabeth (Lisl) von Herzogenberg, two of Leipzig's most prominent musical figures. Herzogenberg composed and, with Philip Spitta, founded the Bach Society (Bach Verein) in Leipzig. Lisl was a gifted amateur pianist and, next to Clara Schumann, Brahms's closest musical confidant. Lisl von Herzogenberg also became Smyth's confidante and dearest friend (As Time Went On, 300.) for a number of years. Brahms was a frequent guest at the Herzogenbergs, where Smyth heard him play the piano.

I like best to think of Brahms at the piano, playing his own
compositions or Bach's mighty organ fugues, sometimes accompanying himself with
a sort of muffled roar, as of Titans stirred to sympathy in the bowels of the
earth. The veins in his forehead stood out, his wonderful bright blue eyes
became veiled, and he seemed the incarnation of the restrained power in which
his own work is forged. For his playing was never noisy, and when lifting a
submerged theme out of a tangle of 
music he used jokingly to ask us to admire the gentle sonority of his
"tenor thumb."5

Smyth, the neophyte composer, writes, "To me
personally, he was very kind and fatherly in his awkward way, chiefly, no
doubt, because of the place I held in his friend's [Lisl's] heart; but after a
very slight acquaintance I guessed he would never take a woman writer
seriously, and had no desire, though kindly urged by him to do so, to show him
my work." Smyth's instincts proved correct. One day Lisl von Herzogenberg
showed Brahms one of Smyth's unsigned fugues, and when Smyth came into the room
she heard Brahms analyzing it, "simply, gravely, and appreciatively."
In her delight and surprise she revealed her authorship, asking eagerly,
"Don't you think if I feel it that way I have a right to end on the
dominant?". The result was electrifying:

Suddenly the scene changed, back came the ironic smile, and
stroking his moustache he said in a voice charged with kindly contempt: "I
am quite sure, dear child, you may end when and where you please!" There
it was! he [sic] had suddenly remembered I was a girl, to take whom seriously
was beneath a man's dignity, and the quality of the work, which had I been a
obscure male he would have upheld against anyone, simply passed from his mind.6

After the above encounter, Smyth continued to
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admire Brahms' music while understandably deploring his views on women. She accused him of subscribing to a
"poetical variant of the Kinder, Kirche, Küche axiom" then
prevalent in Germany, "namely that women are playthings."7 On the
occasion of a dinner party at the Herzogenbergs' she wrote a sarcastic little
poem whose last verse ran:

Der grosse Brahms hat's neulich ausgesprochen:

"Ein g'scheidtes Weib, das hat doch keinen Sinn!"

D'rum lasst uns einsig uns're Dummheit pflegen,

Denn nur auf diesem Punkt ist Werth zu legen

Als Weib und gute Brahmsianerinn!

(As the great Brahms recently proclaimed:

"A clever woman is a thing of naught!"

So let us diligently cultivate stupidity,

That being the only quality demanded

Of a female Brahms-admirer!)8

Brahms enjoyed this diatribe hugely and showed the poem to
everyone who approached him that evening to praise his work, insisting they
read it.  For his part, he liked to
say that everyone resembles some orchestral instrument, and he called Smyth
"the oboe."  Smyth's
portrait of Brahms in the first volume of her memoirs is candid and fair-minded
and totally devoid of hero worship. 
She wrote:

From the very first I had worshipped Brahms's music, as I do
some of it now; hence was predisposed to admire the man.
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But without exactly disliking him, his
personality neither impressed nor attracted me, and I never could understand
why the faithful had such an exalted opinion of his intellect. . . I saw
integrity, sincerity, kindness of heart, generosity to opponents, and a certain
nobility of soul that stamps all his music; but on the other hand I saw
coarseness, uncivlizedness, a defective perception of subtle shades in people
and things, lack of humor, and of course the inevitable and righteous
selfishness of people who have a message of their own to deliver and can't run
errands for others.9

Their relationship, although uneven, remained cordial even
after Smyth left Leipzig in 1884; she once called on Brahms in Vienna in later
years and he urged her to come back for a meal on her return trip.
Unfortunately he was away, and the two never met again.

O Traurigkeit, O Herzeleid

Similarities and contrasts between
Smyth's and Brahms' settings of the same chorales become readily apparent upon
examination. Both composers used the chorale, "O Traurigkeit, O
Herzeleid" (anonymous melody, 1628; text, Johann Rist, 1641) as the basis
of a prelude and fugue. Each composer placed the chorale melody in the soprano
in the preludes, which are brief (Smyth, 11 measures, Brahms, 16). Both Smyth
and Brahms rely on Baroque models for their settings and use the rich harmonic
language of late Romanticism to color their works. Beyond these similarities,
however, individual stylistic traits emerge for each composer.

Brahms had composed his Prelude by July 1858. He presented
an autograph manuscript of it to his piano student Friedchen Wagner before
leaving Hamburg that summer but made no arrangements to publish the piece.
Fifteen years elapsed before Brahms composed a companion Fugue, which he gave
to Philipp Spitta (without the Prelude). Spitta praised the Fugue, which he
classified as a Choralfantasie, finding it "worthy of its great Sebastian
Bach models in its art and pensiveness, in its warmth."
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Spitta hastened to add that the piece
seemed no "mere copy" but was "a self-reliant imitation."10
By 1878 several of Brahms' friends, including the conductor Hermann Levi and
Elisabeth von Herzogenberg, had obtained copies of both the Prelude and Fugue,
and it was probably during this period that Brahms revised the Prelude. In
1881, Brahms submitted both pieces to E.W. Fritzsch for publication in the
journal Musikalisches Wochenblatt, modestly describing the pair as "really
not too bad."11

Throughout the Prelude, Brahms uses flowing triplet figures
in the left hand to accompany the unadorned cantus firmus, thus creating a
unified setting in the manner of the Orgelbüchlein chorales. These
"drooping melismata" 
reinforce the sorrowful Affekt of the text ("O sorrow deep, who
would not weep with heartfelt pain and sighing?/God the Father's only Son within
the grave is lying").12 Brahms scholar Vernon Gotwals hears in these
opening measures an echo of the beginning of Bach's St. Matthew Passion, a
resonance reinforced by the shared tonality of E minor and the triplet
figuration.13 (Example 1)  The following fugue in three voices over a pedal cantus firmus uses as its subject a
descending stepwise figure that is "only tenuously connected with the
chorale."14 This subject is answered by its inversion, revealing Brahms'
economy of means and contrapuntal mastery. A muscular, ascending countersubject
(alto, m. 2, beat 3; inverted in the soprano, m. 5, beat 3), balances the
sighing subject (Example 2). The Prelude's "intricate and peaceful
counterpoint" in three parts is confined to the manuals while the chorale
sounds in the pedal.16 An intricate sixteenth-note figuration that begins in m.
4 carries the music steadily forward to its serene conclusion over a tonic
pedal point.

In her four-voice prelude on this chorale, Smyth places a
highly ornamented cantus firmus against 
supporting parts in the left hand and pedal. Interestingly, Smyth's
setting is a fourth lower than Brahms (E minor versus A minor).16 The
accompanying voices begin imitatively in the manner of Bach and continue in
like manner throughout the piece (Example 3). Rather than exploit a single
motive, however, Smyth underpins each phrase of the cantus firmus with a new
figure. The integration of this point of imitation technique into a smoothly
flowing whole reveals a degree of control over  musical material as great as Brahms' economical
counterpoint.

The four-voice fugue which follows Smyth's prelude treats
each phrase of the chorale melody imitatively. A textural crescendo (reinforced
by the composer's directions of "piu f") begins with the appearance
of the third and central phrase in m. 23. Rhythmic activity intensifies at this
point with the introduction of triplets against the cantus firmus. The climax
of the fugue occurs in m.32ff with the fortissimo entrance of the chorale in
the pedal (Example 4). As an 18-measure decrescendo begins in m. 36, the fourth
phrase of the chorale appears but is interrupted by the reappearance of a
now-subdued phrase three. Fugal activity comes to a gradual halt over a
dominant pedal (m. 49-51) and a half cadence. The last section of the piece,
marked 'Adagio', recapitulates the entire chorale in a simple, homophonic
texture (Example 5). Smyth demonstrates skill in her handling of the musical
materials of this piece. The contrapuntal writing is deft, building to the
climax of the piece halfway through and subsiding thereafter, and the
pianissimo ending captures the intensely sorrowful nature of the text. Smyth's
fugue is impassioned and full of contrasts, whereas Brahms' reflects peaceful
resignation and a uniform gravitas. Smyth's setting bears the same dramatic
stamp as her subsequent  Mass in D
and her works for the stage.

O Gott, du frommer Gott

Both Brahms and Smyth use a "salient thematic
motive"17 in pervasive imitation throughout their respective settings of "O Gott, du frommer Gott" ("O God, Thou Faithful God"). This
motive, derived from the first four notes of the chorale, appears in a slightly
different guise in each prelude (Example 6).

Brahms uses vorimitation to prepare the entrance of the
chorale in measure 7. The first phrase of the chorale (A of the AAB bar form)
appears in unornamented half notes in the soprano (m. 7-10). Vorimitation
intervenes again before the repeat of A in m. 17. This entrance is accompanied
by a Baroque-like harmonic sequence and a disjunct, energetic bass line
à la Handel. The vigorous figuration of Brahms' setting reflects the
text, which prays for good health, a pure soul, and a clear conscience.

Brahms maintains the pattern of presenting unornamented
chorale phrases separated by passages of vorimitation throughout the remainder
of the prelude. The beginning of the B section is heralded by "impressive,
trombone-like chords" with a chain of thirds in the bass.18 The texture,
heretofore strictly three-part, thickens momentarily in anticipation of the
majestic closing measures (58-62) of the piece. Thirds, both falling and
rising, figure prominently in the intricate texture that Brahms weaves
throughout. Brahms reveals his Titanesque nature in this stirring conclusion
when the pedal enters, for the first time, in thundering counterpoint with the
chorale in the soprano. The unusual and dramatic dynamic markings in this piece
(introduction and interludes are 
forte, whereas until the last phrase, the chorale is piano) have been
remarked upon by Gotwals, who maintains that the pedal "supports the forte
[of the last phrase] that must follow the dying away after ein unverletzte Seel
(a Soul inviolate).19 Brahms' debt to Bach is apparent in the Baroque
techniques of vorimitation, harmonic sequences, rhythmic figuration, terraced
dynamics, and pervasive imitation based on a single motive derived from the
cantus firmus.

Smyth likewise reveals her assimilation of Bach's
Orgelbüchlein techniques in both settings of "O Gott du frommer Gott." The brevity of these pieces (hereafter referred to as G1 and G2), at 15 and 16 measures respectively, reflects the careful organization of material  characteristic of counterpoint exercises. In G1, Smyth places the unadorned cantus firmus in the soprano, which is supported by a three-part (manuals and pedal) imitative texture (see Example 6). This setting, in plain common time, is straightforward and compact, without the cushions of vorimitation used by Brahms. G2 is cast as a canon between the soprano and bass. The alto and tenor voices engage in pervasive imitation in flowing eighth notes. These rhythms in the
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12/8 meter and quicker tempo marking
("Andante con moto" rather than G1's "Andante larghetto")
give a lilting, steady swing to the piece. The choice of C minor, a darker key
than the A minor of Brahms' setting, imbues Smyth's settings with a quality of
solemn introspection--perhaps earnest soul-searching for the path to a healthy
life and clear conscience. If G1 reflects, however, G2 strides purposefully
forward.  Echoes of Smyth's
vigorous, intense personality which was always subject to "the pull of
life and the constant longing for calm, the fascination of difficulties and
barriers, the need of human contact and affection, the love of one's own
ways--in short, . . . Lebensteufel,"20 may be heard in her settings of
"O Gott du frommer Gott." Because they complement each other, a
strong argument may be made for performing them as a unit.

In formal terms, G2 displays one rather odd feature: the second A section of the chorale is not repeated. Colette Ripley, in her prefatory notes to this edition, states, "Because of the use of the canonic
compositional device, Smyth does not repeat the opening line of the melody as
is done in the chorale."21 Since both canonic voices finish at the same
half cadence in m. 5, however, this opening material can be repeated with no
discernable effect on the canonic structure.22 (Example 7)
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Perhaps Smyth was experimenting--she
prided herself on originality in all things--or perhaps she simply neglected to
write out the repeat.

Without a doubt, in their chorale settings for organ both
Brahms and Smyth were influenced by Baroque models. The Orgelbüchlein of
J.S. Bach, in particular, is the musical and spiritual ancestor of these
late-nineteenth century pieces. Brahms' esteem for the music of Bach and
Handel, as well as that of earlier composers, is well-known, and his
scholarship advanced the fledgling field of musicology.23 Brahms frequently
performed Bach's organ preludes and fugues on the piano in recital and in his
youth studied counterpoint assiduously with his friend Joseph Joachim. Smyth's
participation in the Leipzig Bach Verein and enthusiasm for the works of Bach
have already been noted. She was profoundly moved by the St. Matthew Passion,
which she first heard at the Thomaskirche on Good Friday, 1878. The following
year Smyth participated in the same annual performance (playing in the second
violins!).  She recalled later that
"the church seemed flooded with the living presence of Bach . . . I
suppose that every artist can say of one or two hours in the past that in these
he touched the extreme height and depth of his emotional life; such hours were
mine during a certain Passion performance . . . "24 The massive choruses,
religious intensity, and dramatic structure of this work are echoed in Smyth's
own Mass in D.

German-speaking composers from Mozart onward studied the
extant works of Bach as contrapuntal and affective masterpieces, and Brahms and
Smyth were nourished in that tradition. The admiration that both composers
sustained for the music of Bach indubitably led them to compose for the organ
even though neither became proficient organists or indeed, showed a lasting
interest in the instrument. Much has been written about Brahms' choice of the
organ as a medium for his early and last works with an intervening fallow
period.25 In a striking parallel, Smyth, after her early chorale settings,
turned to other things (principally opera, choral, and chamber music) but
returned to the organ in her last published work, the Prelude on a Traditional
Irish Air, written for Edith Somerville in 1938.

Why did Smyth's chorale preludes disappear from sight for so
long? Their length (useful for service music) and modest technical demands
should have assured them a place in late-Romantic organ repertoire alongside
the chorale preludes of Brahms and the op. 67 and 135a chorale preludes of Max
Reger, which they resemble stylistically. The answer may lie partly in
historical circumstances:  Smyth
came of age during an era in which several well-established (male) composers
dominated the field. This phenomenon has occurred in every age, but one
critical difference distinguishes the nineteenth century from preceding eras.
The creation of a musical canon during the course of the century, incipient in
the efforts of the Bach Gesellschaft in the 1830s and nurtured by the
musicological studies of Spitta, Chrysander, and others, secured the posterity
of composers like Brahms and Wagner. Lesser composers, male as well as female,
were relegated to a secondary status. In addition, British-German antagonisms
during the Boer War and World War I played no small part in the disruption of
Smyth's career, forcing the cancellation of performances and severing contacts
in Germany.

Smyth felt herself an outsider on several counts:

Now it may be said that hundreds of artists are called on to
endure the like [neglect of their work], but in my case was a disheartening
element no man has to cope with . . . that given my sex, my foreign musical
education, and the conditions of English music life as I was coming to know
them, if I were ever to win through at all it would not be till I had one leg
in the grave.26

In 1933, assessing her career during the past fifty years,
she elaborated upon the "conditions of English music life":

The difficulty in my case has been that from the very first
. . . for some reason or other what I call 'the Machine' was against me.
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If you ask me, "What is 'the
Machine'?"  I can only answer,
"I don't know," but apparently it is a complex construction, made up,
say, of units from every section of our music life; heads of Musical Colleges,
leading publishers, dominant members of music committees throughout the
country, the Press, and so on.27

Despite these and other (admittedly self-imposed) obstacles,
Smyth did achieve a high degree of success and recognition as both a composer
and writer, reflected in the honors bestowed upon her during her lifetime and a
revival of some of her works in our time.28 Contemporary opinion of her
large-scale works varies,29 but Smyth's chorale preludes for organ, indebted to
Bach and late-nineteenth-century German Romanticism, bear an original stamp and
certainly compare favorably with those of Brahms. It is tempting to speculate
what he might have thought of her chorale preludes had he seen them in an
anonymous manuscript. (There is no indication that Smyth ever showed Brahms
these or any other of her works--the result would have been too predictably
patronizing.) The Titan's endorsement might not have made that much difference
to her, however. Throughout her career, Smyth refused to be deterred by any
real or perceived lack of approbation of her works. With characteristic
firmness, she penned encouraging words for future generations: "I do not
think the future looks too black for women composers who have something to say
and are not afraid of saying it after their own fashion
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 
. . . All one has to do is go straight
on and pay no attention!"30    

Illinois College Organ Symposium

Homer Ashton Ferguson III and Joyce Johnson Robinson

Homer Ashton Ferguson III received his bachelor of arts degree with a major in music from Illinois College in May 2000, studying organ with Rudolf Zuiderveld and piano and conducting with Garrett Allman. In May 2002, he completed his master of music degree at Arizona State University under the direction of Kimberly Marshall, where he is currently working on his doctoral degree in organ performance. He is also the organist and music associate at Central United Methodist Church in Phoenix, Arizona.

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

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Bach and Beyond: Bach and Bach Reception in the 19th Century

November 7-8, 2003, scholars and performers gathered for the organ symposium “Bach and Beyond--Bach and Bach Reception in the 19th Century,” sponsored by Illinois College (Jacksonville, Illinois), under the direction of Dr. Rudolf Zuiderveld, professor of music and college organist, and co-sponsored by MacMurray College (Jacksonville, Illinois), First Presbyterian Church (Springfield, Illinois), and John Brombaugh (Eugene, Oregon).

Day One: by Homer Ashton Ferguson III

Rammelkamp Chapel at Illinois College and Annie Merner Chapel at MacMurray College were the venues for the first day. Registration began at 1:00 p.m. in the foyer of Rammelkamp Chapel, and James Dawson, owner of Oberlin Music in Oberlin, Ohio, set up a sales booth for conferees to peruse various publications concerning the organ.

After a warm welcome by Dr. Zuiderveld and Dr. Axel Steuer, president of Illinois College, the symposium began with the keynote lecture given by Russell Stinson, the Josephine Emily Brown Professor of Music at Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas. Stinson’s lecture, “Bach’s Organ Works and Mendelssohn’s Grand Tour,” revealed some new insights into the reception of Bach’s organ music during the nineteenth century, the era of the so-called Bach revival, through the examination of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. The address gave conference participants a preview of Stinson’s recent research which has been codified in his latest book, The Reception of Bach’s Organ Works from Mendelssohn to Brahms, scheduled for publication by Oxford University Press in late 2005. The book will contain four rather hefty chapters on four major figures of 19th-century music (Mendelssohn, Schumann, Liszt, and Brahms) and will investigate how they responded to Bach’s organ music, not only as composers but also as performers, critics, theorists, and teachers.

Mendelssohn was the ideal figure for the “rediscovery” of J. S. Bach’s genius. He composed over thirty works for the organ, often using the organ music of Bach as a model, his editions of Bach’s organ chorales were among the first ever published, and as a concert organist he introduced Bach’s music to the general public. Stinson dwelled on one particular time period in Mendelssohn’s career, his self-named “big trip” of 1830-32, the longest Bildungsreise ever undertaken by a musician in modern times. His travels took him through Austria, Italy, Switzerland, France, and England as well as many German cities.

Mendelssohn’s journey began as a Bach pilgrimage, with stops in Leipzig and Weimar, where he was presented with manuscript copies of two Bach works by the publisher Breitkopf and Härtel. His time was also spent with Goethe, who owned six Bach manuscripts, two of which contained organ compositions. Goethe, a long-time fan of Bach, requested that Mendelssohn visit the local organist. Upon doing so, Mendelssohn reported that he played the “D-minor Toccata.” Stinson continued at some length in establishing that the “D-minor Toccata” reference was definitely a reference to the infamous BWV 565. This conclusion stems primarily from a letter sent from Paris to his family in 1831 in which he requests to be sent copies of six different Bach organ works, including a “Prelude and Fugue in D Minor,” which he identifies by notating the first two beats of the Dorian toccata. This eliminates the Dorian as a possibility because Mendelssohn knew that piece as a prelude, not a toccata.

In late July 1831, Mendelssohn arrived in Switzerland. In need of practice, he began to work on his technique using Bach’s organ works as his pedagogical tool. A letter Mendelssohn wrote to his family while stranded in the village of Sargans revealed that even at this point in his career he still lacked, at least according to his standards, the pedal technique necessary to perform Bach’s big organ works.

Upon his arrival in Munich several weeks later, Mendelssohn continued to focus his attention on mastering his pedal technique. Again, he found himself struggling in his conquest, only this time the organ he had to practice on was partially to blame. Mendelssohn wrote in a letter to his family, “I also play the organ every day for an hour. But unfortunately I cannot practice as I wish because the pedalboard lacks the five uppermost notes.” He did marvel at the beauty of the organ, though, and commented on finding the perfect registration for the famous setting of Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele.

As Stinson continued to demonstrate the influence of Bach’s music upon Mendelssohn, he touched briefly upon Mendelssohn’s sense of profundity in sharing Bach’s organ works with his family and friends. In an account regarding BWV 740, Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott, Vater, Stinson remarked upon the popularity of playing Bach’s organ works as keyboard duets on the piano. Within a rather emotional letter dated November 14, 1831, Mendelssohn sent this chorale to his sisters Fanny and Beckchen to play as a duet, noting, “Now play this chorale with Beckchen, as long as you are together, and think of me while doing so.” Stinson further illustrated this by quoting Fanny in a letter she had written to Felix two years earlier, apropos of Bach’s organ preludes that: “Beckchen is pounding out the pedal part with virtuosity, and it does my heart good to hear her. Old Bach would laugh himself to death if he could see it.” At this point in the lecture Dr. Stinson and his student, Skye Hart, resurrected an old performance practice by playing BWV 740 on the piano, in duet form.

On April 22, 1832, Mendelssohn sojourned back to London, regularly playing the postlude at Sunday morning services at St. Paul’s Cathedral, even as he had done to great acclaim in a previous visit in 1829. The organ at St. Paul’s proved to be the ideal instrument on which to perform Bach’s music, due to its larger compass in comparison to other instruments in London. Mendelssohn’s organ playing there is well documented and Stinson went into detail to support the fact that Mendelssohn’s Bach playing was revolutionary for the English organ scene. It was in London that Mendelssohn achieved the level of mastery that he had sought in the performance of Bach’s organ works.

Within this discussion one of Stinson’s most remarked-upon assertions concerned the Prelude and Fugue in E minor, BWV 533, the so-nicknamed “Cathedral.” Stinson believes that it was Mendelssohn’s introduction and repeated performance of this work to English audiences at St. Paul’s Cathedral that led to its nickname. All of the conference participants, including Christoph Wolff, could not think of any evidence to contradict this assertion and were in agreement that this may very well be the forgotten source of this often-quoted moniker.

Stinson concluded his stimulating opening to this conference, noting, “(Mendelssohn) would continue to occupy himself with Bach’s organ works his entire life--as a performer, composer, editor, antiquarian, pedagogue, and ambassador-at-large. Without question, he was the most influential champion of this repertory during the early Romantic era.”

The conference continued with a recital by Jay Peterson, professor of music and college organist at MacMurray College. Performed in Annie Merner Chapel on the MacMurray College campus, the recital featured the historic 1952 Æolian-Skinner Organ, Opus 1150, of four manuals and 64 ranks. This organ, installed under the auspices of Professor Robert Glasgow, then a member of the music faculty, has been dutifully guarded and maintained by Peterson. He recently completed a compact disc recording of this organ featuring American organ music in celebration of the fiftieth birthday of this landmark.

Dr. Peterson readily showed off the colors of the organ through his performance of 19th-century organ music, demonstrating his ability as a commanding performer. The program: Sonata in B-flat, op. 65, no. 4, Felix Mendelssohn; O World, I Now Must Leave Thee, My Heart Abounds With Pleasure, Blessed Ye Who Live In Faith, O God, Thou Faithful God, My Heart Is Ever Yearning, op. 122, Johannes Brahms; Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H, Franz Liszt.

Day one of the symposium concluded with a recital by Douglas Reed, professor of music and university organist at the University of Evansville, on the Hart Sesquicentennial Organ in Illinois College’s Rammelkamp Chapel. This recital attracted a large audience from the surrounding community as it was the November event on Illinois College’s McGaw Fine Arts Series.

Building upon a theme set earlier by Jay Peterson at MacMurray College, Dr. Reed played a program dedicated solely to the masters of the 19th century. His program construction was well-conceived as he “book-ended” his recital by opening with the first movement of the Symphonie Romane by Charles-Marie Widor and then closed with the Final. Originally premiered in 1900 in Berlin, Widor received his inspiration for this symphony from plainchant. Reed continued with a performance of Robert Schumann’s Six Studies for the Pedal Piano, opus 56 (1845). The remainder of his program consisted of Brahms’ Prelude and Fugue in A Minor and Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 5 in D Major.

The evening ended with a reception in Kirby Rotunda on the campus of Illinois College; organ scholars socialized and expounded upon ideas new and old. The inaugural kickoff of Illinois College’s biannual organ symposium was indeed a success. Events are currently being scheduled for November of 2005 and November of 2007, with focus in ‘07 on Dieterich Buxtehude in commemoration of the 300th anniversary of his death.

Day Two: by Joyce Johnson Robinson

All of Saturday’s events took place at First Presbyterian Church of Springfield, home to John Brombaugh’s 3-manual, 70-rank Opus 35.

The day began with an organ demonstration, “Music around Johann Sebastian Bach,” by Rudolf Zuiderveld, organist of First Presbyterian and professor of music at Illinois College in Jacksonville. The program comprised works by Bach’s predecessors, contemporaries, and successors, from Frescobaldi through Brahms, and included a hymn, “If You But Trust in God to Guide You” (Wer nur den lieben Gott), whose verses were preceded by organ preludes of Bach, Krebs, and Böhm. The Sonatina in d by Christian Ritter showcased the full organ, including the 16’ and 32’ pedal Posaunes. The organ is robustly voiced for a full congregation, and the room has a lively acoustic. Yet even with a sparse population in the church, the full organ was loud but not unpleasantly so. The instrument is essentially north German/Dutch, but can capably handle music of other styles as well. In Dandrieu’s variations on O Filii et Filiae, the organ’s French capabilities were highlighted, including récits de nazard, tierce, basse de trompette, flutes, larigot (siffloete), cromorne (dulcian), cornet, cimbel and Grand Jeu. The reeds offered just enough bite, the flutes were clear and full. The organ most definitely possesses gravitas, as demonstrated in Louis Marchand’s Fond d’orgue (Deuxième Suite), in which the 16’ Praestant enriched the plenum without detracting from its clarity.

Next, organists, including students of Douglas Reed (University of Evansville), Russell Stinson (Lyon College), Dana Robinson (University of Illinois), and graduates of MacMurray College and Illinois College played for the masterclass led by Robert Clark, organ professor emeritus of Arizona State University. All but one played Bach works. Dr. Clark’s suggestions reflected the concerns of making music, as well as matters of technique and registration. In order to accommodate all the students who wished to play, the masterclass continued after the lunch break. Participants in the class and in the subsequent recital were Zach Guenzel, Tim Weisman, Cecilia Bogowith, Alicie Zeilenga, Skye Hart, Jeremy House, Nicole Eyman, Luba Tkachuk, Alison Lewis, Scott Montgomery, Jin-Kyung Lim, and Kirk Rich. See Tsai Chan and Alison Lewis played in the masterclass although not in the recital; Robert Horton and Christine Smith played in the recital only.

Following the masterclass, Christoph Wolff of Harvard University delivered a lecture on the authenticity of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor. Prof. Wolff outlined the claims against Bach’s authorship, which are primarily based on interpretations of sources and on stylistic grounds. His remarks focused on a Berlin Staatsbibliothek manuscript; he considers this source, copied by Johannus Rinck, to be correct in its attribution to Bach. Wolff also discussed details of notation and stylistic traits (such as the arpeggiando figures) which would place the work early in the eighteenth century, and explained the octave doubling at the opening of the toccata as a way around the lack of a 16’ stop on a smaller organ--a way of achieving the effect of a North German plenum.1 Having been reassured that our beloved warhorse was indeed by Bach, we returned to the sanctuary to hear the masterclass participants present their pieces at a recital that capped off the afternoon.

The symposium concluded with a re-creation of Mendelssohn’s “Bach Concert” of August 6, 1840, at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig. The concert began with a full organ introductory work by A. W. Bach, followed by Johann Sebastian’s Fugue in E-flat (BWV 552b), Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele (BWV 654), Prelude and Fugue in A minor (BWV 543), Passacaglia and Thema fugatum (BWV 582), Pastorella in F (BWV 590), Toccata and Fugue in D minor (BWV 565), and closing with Mendelssohn’s Choral and Variation on Herzlich tut mich verlangen, and Allegro (Chorale and fugue) in D minor. Robert Clark, Russell Stinson, Rudolf Zuiderveld, Douglas Reed, and Jay Peterson collaborated with stirring playing; for those who had immersed themselves in details of these works’ histories, stylistic details, and performance practice, the concert was a satisfying ending to the weekend’s events.2

Interpretive Suggestions for Four American Organ Works, Part 1

by Earl Holt
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Earl Holt is a graduate of Elon College, the University of Michigan, and Arizona State University, where he recently completed the D.M.A. degree in organ performance with Robert Clark. Dr. Holt served on the music faculty of San Jacinto College North in Houston from 1982-90, and is currently Director of Music at the First United Methodist Church of Gilbert, Arizona.

Introduction

In Organ Technique: Modern and Early, George Ritchie and George Stauffer summarize the contribution of American composers to organ music of this century:

If the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries belonged to Europe as far as organ building and composition are concerned, the twentieth century belongs to the United States. For it has been America, with its extraordinarily eclectic culture, that has set the standard for the Modern Era.1

Organ building in the United States since the late 1960s has returned, more and more, to seventeenth- and eighteenth-century principles of design and construction; the interest in the tonal resources of these instruments may account, in part, for some American composers' renewed interest in the organ. Another contributory reason for interest in organ scoring is the possibility of early public performances, in comparison to the relative improbability of having large-scale modern orchestral works performed. Logistical difficulty and expense of paying multiple performers, combined with a lack of acceptance of modern art music by aging concert audiences, make orchestral conductors reluctant to program such works. In contrast, compositions for solo instruments or small ensembles are more likely to receive an early hearing. Some composers have written works for organ in combination with other instruments, particularly percussion; an important example of the genre is William Bolcom's 1967 work, Black Host for organ, percussion, and electronic tape.

In her book, Survey of Organ Literature and Editions, Marilou Kratzenstein attributes renewed interest in American organ composition to the Hartt College Annual Contemporary Organ Music Festival, held during the 1970s and early 1980s. She writes that "it is at least partly due to the efforts of this festival that an impressive number of composers not formerly associated with the organ have begun to view the organ as a viable vehicle for expressing contemporary ideas."2 Commissions have undoubtedly played a major role in the creation of new organ works, too. In particular, all four of the American compositions examined in this article resulted from commissions.

Viktor Lukas writes in A Guide to Organ Music that modern American composers "have recognized and been encouraged by the organ's diversity today, but that diversity along with, in the minds of some, the instrument's association with liturgical functions seems to have discouraged many gifted composers from writing on a scale similar to their output for other instruments."3 Lukas cites only Igor Stravinsky and Norman Dello Joio as examples, however, and his observation is more characteristic of the first sixty years of this century than of the last several decades. Lukas's comment has validity, nevertheless; it is questionable, for example, whether the sole organ works of George Crumb or Ellen Taaffe Zwilich would have been composed without commissions.

Major American organ composers of the past two decades have turned increasingly to programmatic, secular subjects. They have also incorporated modern performance techniques into their writing (tone clusters and cluster glissandos, for example), most of which are unassociated with past or present church usage. As a result, works that display these techniques are often inappropriate for church services. Even Bolcom's Gospel Preludes, based on church hymns, are at present more suitable for concerts than for church services. If western-European trends in organ composition are a paradigm, the secularization of the organ is likely to continue in the United States.

This article surveys four selected secular organ works by modern American composers and compiles relevant performance information in an attempt to make the compositions more comprehensible and accessible to recitalists, teachers, and students.

Mysteries by William Bolcom

Background

William Bolcom, born in Seattle, Washington in 1938, attended Mills College, the University of Washington, and Stanford University. At Stanford, he studied composition with Leland Smith; Bolcom also studied composition at the Paris Conservatory with Olivier Messiaen, Darius Milhaud, and Jean Rivier in the 1960s. Bolcom's career has included piano performance and composition; he has written organ, piano, choral, vocal, and orchestral works. In the 1980s he completed his fifth symphony and a violin concerto. The premiere of his first opera, McTeague, was at Chicago's Lyric Opera in October, 1992. Since 1973 Bolcom has taught at the University of Michigan, where he is a professor of music composition.4

Bolcom's organ works are Black Host for organ, percussion, and tape (1967), Praeludium for vibraphone and organ (1969), Chorale Prelude on "Abide with Me" for organ solo (1970), Hydraulis for organ solo (1971), Mysteries for organ solo (1976-77), Humoresque for organ and orchestra (1979), Three Gospel Preludes for organ solo (1979), Gospel Preludes, Book Two for organ solo (1980-81), Gospel Preludes, Book Three for organ solo (1981), and Gospel Preludes, Book Four for organ solo (1984). In all, the Gospel Preludes comprise four books of three pieces each. The third and fourth books, previously available only in manuscript, were published in 1994. The publication of the third book of Gospel Preludes also includes the 1970 Chorale Prelude on "Abide with Me" as an extra piece.5

The work selected for this article is Mysteries.6 Organist and composer William Albright, professor of music composition and associate director of the electronic music studio at the University of Michigan, played the premiere. The performance took place at the University of Hartford's Hartt International Contemporary Organ Music Festival, held July 21-25, 1980.7 Walter Holtkamp Jr. commissioned the work for the festival; it was subsequently published in 1981.8

Structure

Mysteries is a suite of four through-composed movements that are unrelated in motivic material. The movements are "The Endless Corridor," "Eternal Flight," "La lugubre gondola," and "Dying Star." In a note to the player, Bolcom states his preference that "the four movements be played together as a set, for cumulative effect."9

"The Endless Corridor" is a trio, and is the only movement with changing meters. Little stepwise motion occurs in the three voices of the trio, which move almost entirely by leaps of fourths, fifths, sixths, or sevenths. The voices are not imitative and the rhythm of individual beats is varied, so the same rhythm rarely appears simultaneously in two voices. This compositional technique makes each voice appear to move independently. Although the form of the movement is not ABA in the traditional sense of repeated motivic material, the registration does create that impression; one registration in mm. 1-9 and 20-32 flanks a differently colored registration in mm. 10-19, the central one-third of the movement.

"Eternal Flight" is a pointillistic movement with spatial rhythmic notation. It is in three continuous sections: (1) staccato figures and clusters that increase in frequency, tempo, and dynamic; (2) whole-note clusters that increase in texture and dynamic to full organ, and then reverse the process; and (3) staccato chords and short figures that decrease in frequency, tempo, and dynamic.

Viktor Lukas writes that the third movement, "La lugubre gondola," "suggests a gently rocking gondola through soft dynamics and an emphasis on lower registers and gently moving chord changes."10 Except for one short section (11/2-11/3), the movement is unmetered; that section is marked "all values relative," however.11 As in "Eternal Flight," this movement has three continuous sections: (1) low-pitched arpeggios with long note values; (2) overlapping, ascending melodic figures that lead to a few seconds of eighth-note figuration; and (3) another (abbreviated) section of long note values to end the work. Characteristic of this movement is the frequent use of pauses of various lengths that serve as sound objects.

"Dying Star" begins with rapid, scherzo-like figuration in spatial rhythmic notation. A pedal citation of the chorale melody An Wasserflüssen Babylon then joins the texture. Later, a fragmented version of J.S. Bach's harmonization of the same chorale, in 3/4 meter, alternates with the spatially notated figuration, which gradually becomes more widely dispersed. To heighten the effect of disintegration, which Bolcom describes as "floating in and out, like a radio signal from a distant star," he uses dramatic pauses ranging from seven to thirteen seconds.12 The movement ends with a pppp chorale fragment, and a final pause.

Registration

In a note to the player, Bolcom writes about the desired instrument for Mysteries: "The object is that this music should be equally effective on any type of organ, large or small, Romantic or Baroque--even on electronic organs."13 Each movement can be performed on a two-manual instrument, although a three-manual instrument is optimum. Because the score rarely indicates crescendos or diminuendos that require expression shades, the work can be performed adequately on an instrument without expressive divisions.

Although a large list of specific stops is not required, two movements recommend registrations that are often unavailable on small instruments. First, "La lugubre gondola" requires a 32' pedal Bourdon, but a footnote indicates that a 16' stop may be substituted if a suitable 32' stop is unavailable. Second, "Dying Star" requires a pp 16' and 2'  stop combination for the Bach chorale harmonization.

Bolcom writes that "registration is largely left to the organist, except for a few suggestions here and there."14 Because of the wide latitude given to the performer, and the variety of acceptable instruments, there are many possible registrations. Table 1 has an appropriate registration for a three-manual instrument.

The beginning of "The Endless Corridor" requires a "cool-sounding" 8' pp stop for each manual and a pp 16' pedal stop.15 The upper voice (right hand) requires a "different color" in m. 10 and the middle voice (left hand) requires a similar substitution in m. 14. The change in timbre can result from substituting a different 8' stop, adding a soft mutation, or substituting a 4' stop and playing an octave lower. It is important to maintain the pp dynamic; therefore stops of significant dynamic contrast should be avoided. The two manual voices return to their original registrations in mm. 18-19, and continue to the end of the movement.

No specific stops are indicated in "Eternal Flight." The opening section (5/1-7/2) requires at least two manuals, one with a pp registration, and the other somewhat louder for the sf material. If three manuals are available, the pp material is divided at random between two of the manuals, as indicated in the score.16 The pedal has to alternate between pp and sf dynamics in the opening section; this switch can be accomplished by quickly coupling soft pedal stops to the Great manual for the sf spots only. The middle section (7/2-8/2) is played on the Great manual alone. For the crescendo to fff and the subsequent diminuendo to pp, the crescendo pedal and other expression pedals may be used; if neither is available, a console assistant can add or remove stops. Registration for the final section (8/2-9/4) is the same as at the beginning, with the exception that the Great manual is not used.

The registration shown in Table 1 for "La lugubre gondola" is specified in the score. For the two manuals, Bolcom wants stops of "different but related color."17 In the pedal, a 32' flue is best, although the piece can be performed with a 16' pedal stop.

"Dying Star" requires an "8' soft flute with much 'chiff'''  for the flute figuration that continues throughout the movement.18 On a large instrument, a combination of 8' flute stops, instead of a single stop, is often necessary for sufficient dynamic. Registration for the harmonization of An Wasserflüssen Babylon (16/1), is "2' and 16' only--with a distant, otherworldly registration."19 Because of the ppp dynamic, there is often little choice of stops, however. On a large instrument it may be possible to couple manuals together for the desired pitch combination and timbre. The same chorale registration is coupled to the pedal, because the chorale cannot be played on manuals alone. The 4' pedal stop that was added for the "subliminal" chorale melody at the beginning of the movement (13/1-15/1) is removed before the chorale harmonization begins.

Double pedal technique is necessary for all movements except the first. In addition, pedal clusters are in "Eternal Flight" and "La lugubre gondola." Because of the slow tempos, however, the clusters are easy to play. The pedal clusters in "Eternal Flight" have to be carefully practiced, nevertheless; some require awkward positions--the C to E-flat interval played by the left foot in 8/4, for example.

Interpretation

Because of the programmatic theme of Mysteries, each movement should be interpreted in a way that is consistent with the text associations. For example, in the trio "The Endless Corridor," Bolcom creates the aural impression of three slowly moving, endlessly drifting voices. No tonal, motivic, or rhythmic relationships exist between the voices, no suggestion of cadence or phrase structure occurs, and the angularity of the voices discourages melodic perception.

The rhythm of "The Endless Corridor" is played precisely as written; because the irregular motion of the voices has been created rhythmically, further rubato is unnecessary and contrary to the character of the movement. Legato articulation further enhances the intentional monotony. Selection of thinly voiced, distant-sounding stops is consistent with the "cool-sounding" stops mentioned in the score. Slight shading with expression pedals is appropriate at locations indicated in the score.

In contrast to the precisely notated rhythm of the first movement, the spatial rhythmic notation in "Eternal Flight" allows considerable freedom in rhythmic interpretation. Creating a sense of immense space is important at the beginning, with a certain unpredictability when the pointillistic staccato clusters are played. Near the end of the opening section (6/3-7/1), the clusters and figuration become more densely packed, as if drifting closer and closer in space; the increased density should not be perceived by the listener as an increase in tempo, however. Bolcom indicates short accelerandos at irregular intervals by using arrows (----> ).

A series of ritardando arrows ( <----) reduce the tempo at the beginning of the middle section of "Eternal Flight" (7/2). The middle section has the broadest tempo, the thickest texture, the longest note values, and the loudest dynamic of the movement. The legato, parallel clusters in this section require a considerable amount of finger substitution, but the long note values allow sufficient time.

The third section of the movement (8/2-9/4) reverses the motion of the first section in a gradual process of disintegration: (1) clusters that are at first close together become spaced farther and farther apart; (2) the dynamic decreases; (3) pitch becomes gradually lower; and (4) texture thins to single notes. The performer helps to communicate the disintegration by allowing playing gestures to become gradually slower, to the point that notes in the final few systems are gently pressed down. If the console is in view of the audience, it is vital that the performer not relax his/her body posture, so that intensity is maintained during the increasingly longer periods of silence between the final notes.

"La lugubre gondola" has a stifling, airless quality created by the long note values, low pitches, and pauses of various lengths. Although the movement is almost entirely unmetered, the note values are relative, and must be played precisely in rhythm. Because of the difficulty in counting the long note values, the performer can count quarter notes, at the rate of one per second, as a basic pulse, and write the number of quarter-note pulses over each note in the score as listed in Table 2.20

The comma symbols used for the long pauses of varying lengths are unexplained in the score. The same symbols appear, however, in a previous Bolcom work, Hydraulis, and are defined in a foreword as "pauses, ranging from long to very short, depending mainly on context of the passage." In a recent letter, Bolcom confirmed that the Hydraulis pauses also apply to Mysteries.21

The eighth-note figuration that appears in the metered middle section of the movement (11/2-11/3) is played with light, elegant articulation. In the unmetered final section (11/3-11/4), playing gestures become increasingly slower; intensity must be maintained during the pauses, though.

The title "La lugubre gondola" is from an 1882 piano piece of the same name by Franz Liszt. Liszt had the inspiration for the piece while watching funeral processions by gondola through the Venetian canals, when he was staying with Richard Wagner and Cosima (Liszt's daughter, who had married Wagner) in Venice. Anecdotally, Liszt abruptly quit working on his final oratorio and wrote two versions of La lugubre gondola in December 1882, after he had a strange presentiment--presumably of Wagner's impending death. Irrespectively, Wag-ner died in Venice two months later, and his body was borne by gondola in the funeral procession.22 Although not widely performed, several pianists have recorded the piano piece La lugubre gondola, No. 1; listening to such recordings is helpful in establishing the mood of the Bolcom movement, because the central, metered section of the Bolcom movement quotes the Liszt work.

"Dying Star" begins with thirty-second-note flute figuration marked "legato, even throughout."23 A more detached articulation is appropriate, however, if the room is acoustically live or if the selected flute does not have enough chiff for articulative clarity. Nevertheless, the articulation should not be a mechanical staccato.

The thirty-second-note figuration in the right-hand part continues to the end of the movement, and it is impossible to play all four voices of the An Wasserflüssen Babylon chorale fragments (beginning at 16/1) in the left hand alone. It is therefore necessary for the pedal, coupled to the manual, to play the tenor and bass voices of the chorale. Articulation for the chorale is molto legato for both manual and pedal parts. Bolcom commented on the significance of An Wasserflüssen Babylon to this movement: "That chorale prelude always gave a chilling intimation of eternity; I could imagine a dead Earth with some eternal record[ing] of it [An Wasserflüssen Babylon] playing (or a ghostly organist)."24

During the long blocks of silence (beginning at 16/4 and continuing to the end of the movement) it is important to follow Bolcom's instructions: "These pauses are exactly timed--be sure to remain physically suspended during them so that the tension is not lost."25 As in the second and third movements, the fourth also ends with a gradual disintegration of musical texture in space and time.

No errata were discovered in the score, and Bolcom confirms that he knows of none. Mysteries has not been commercially recorded. Bolcom lists a performance time of seventeen minutes and ten seconds for the entire work, broken down by movement as follows:

The Endless Corridor  [3:35]

Eternal Flight   [2:40]

La lugubre gondola     [5:45]

Dying Star       [5:10]26

Pastoral Drone by George Crumb

Background

George Crumb, born in Charleston, West Virginia in 1929, studied composition at Mason College of Music and Fine Arts (B.M., 1950), the University of Illinois (M.M., 1953), and the University of Michigan (D.M.A., 1959), where his principal composition teacher was Ross Lee Finney. His compositions include chamber, orchestral, vocal, and instrumental works, and he has received many honors, including the 1968 Pulitzer Prize for the orchestral work Echoes of Time and the River. Since 1965 Crumb has been professor of music and composer-in-residence at the University of Pennsylvania.27

The work selected for this article, Pastoral Drone, is Crumb's only solo organ work.28 David Craighead, professor emeritus of organ at the Eastman School of Music, played the official premiere at First Unitarian Church in San Francisco on June 27, 1984, at the national convention of the American Guild of Organists, which had commissioned the work for the occasion.29

Structure

Crumb wrote the following notes about Pastoral Drone in Don Gillespie's book, George Crumb: Profile of a Composer:

Pastoral Drone, commissioned by the American Guild of Organists and composed in the summer of 1982, represents my first essay in the solo organ genre (my Star Child of 1977 included organ as an addition to the orchestral resources).

Pastoral Drone, cast in one continuous movement, was conceived as an evocation of an ancient "open-air" music. The underpinning of the work is provided by relentless drones executed on the organ pedals. The periodical "bending" of the basic drone sound (a lower D-sharp and a higher G-sharp, spaced as an interval of the 11th) announces the principal structural articulations of the work. The drone is overlaid by strident, sharply etched rhythms in the manual parts and the dynamic throughout is sempre fortissimo ("boldly resounding"). The characteristic sound of Pastoral Drone will suggest a kind of colossal musette.30

In the Gillespie book, theorist David Cope writes about Crumb's works from the early 1980s, including Pastoral Drone:

These later works show a progressively more inclusive use of tonality and interesting new approaches to formal organization. Although Crumb's stylistic "fingerprints" are indelibly impressed on every page, one also perceives an ongoing tendency toward new modes of expression.31

Two drones are in Pastoral Drone: a pedal drone based on a perfect eleventh (D-sharp to g-sharp), and a manual drone based on the perfect fifth. The pedal drone continues from beginning to end, interrupted at times by chromatic movement, but always returning to the same interval. The manual drone changes pitch six times, however. These pitch changes delineate the seven main sections of the work.

Each section contains the same three parts: (1) simultaneous pedal and manual drones with ff chromatic clusters constructed from neighboring tones to the drone; (2) a double pedal solo during which the feet move chromatically; and (3) a freely composed part, consisting of rapid manual figuration over the drone bass in the pedal. In sections 2-6 the three parts are presented exactly in that order. In section 1, however, the pedal solo is delayed, occurring in the middle of the manual figuration part. Section 7 is differently ordered, too; it begins with alternating pedal solos and manual figuration, and then concludes with a ff chromatic cluster in both manuals and pedal. Table 3 is a structural outline of the work.

As shown in Table 3, the manual drones, built on the pitches G-sharp, B, D, and F, outline a diminished-seventh chord. The symmetrical structure outlined by these tonal areas forms an arched rondo, with the distinctive manual drone, punctuated by clusters, serving as a ritornello. Besides using the tonal shifts of the manual drone, Crumb emphasizes the symmetrical structure in other ways: (1) quasi danza triplets in sections 3 and 5 flank the central section; (2) the parallel pedal movement from the first section returns, expanded, in the last section; and (3) the order of the parts is skewed in sections 1 and 7, as noted above.

The freely composed parts of each section are improvisatory in character. Each part is based on a unifying rhythm, headmotive, or harmony, and the end of each phrase is dovetailed. For structural material, Crumb uses tritones, perfect fourths in parallel motion, pentatonic sequences and clusters, and both whole-tone scales in simultaneous parallel motion.

The work is in changing compound meter, with only two exceptions to regular compound beats: (1) a single simple beat at m. 44, beat 2; and (2) pedal stop additions that occur on the second half of the simple beat in m. 72, beats 2 and 3, and m. 75, beats 2 and 3. Crumb uses traditional notation for the work, except in mm. 68-69, where a single enlarged accidental affects all five notes of each pentatonic cluster.

Registration

A three-manual instrument is necessary to perform Pastoral Drone. Because the manual compass is F-sharp to c'''', 61-key manuals are recommended. The score indicates three ossia passages (mm. 40-48, 56-58, and 78-84), marked come sopra, that are intended to make the work playable on an instrument with 56-key manuals by playing the passages an octave lower. A 56-key instrument's top key is g''', however, and the pitch a'''--requiring a 58-key compass--occurs in m. 66. In a recent letter, Crumb acknowledges that the pitch a''' was overlooked. He writes: "I was unaware that one note was outside the 56-key range. Perhaps the 56-key notion should be abandoned!"32 Although less common than 56-key instruments, 58-key organs can encompass all pitches, if the performer follows the octave displacement directions in the score.

The same ff registration, listed in the score at the beginning of the work, is needed each time the manual drone ritornello occurs:

            Gt.--full

            Sw.--full with 16'

            Pos.--full

            Ped.--32'16' 8'4'

            No couplers--Sw., Pos./Gt.

At the ritornello, a 16' reed plenum with mixtures is appropriate for the Great manual, with full registrations on the Swell and Positive manuals, too. The pedal drone is marked f sempre. Because the same pedal registration sounds, unaltered, through the first seventy-one measures, it should balance the Swell and Positive manuals, and must not be oppressively loud.

The registration direction "No couplers--Sw., Pos./Gt." is ambiguous at first glance, but apparently refers to the continuous alternation between coupled and uncoupled manuals: the Swell and Positive manuals are coupled to the Great manual during the ff introduction to each section, and then uncoupled for the rest of the time.

Manual changes are clearly marked and should be followed exactly. Additions to the pedal in mm. 72 and 75 are on simple divisions of the compound beat. Table 4 lists an appropriate registration for each section.

If the ossia passages are taken (on an instrument with manuals of fewer than sixty-one keys), the registration must be adjusted to mask the jump to one octave lower (mm. 40-48, 56-58, and 78-84). A footnote in the score that gives directions for this adjustment is unclear, however: "Ossia: play this passage (concluding at *) down one octave without 16' or 8' (come sopra)."33 What it should state is that (1) if 16' stops and couplers are the lowest-pitched stops used in the measure before the ossia, those 16' stops and couplers are removed for the duration of the ossia; or (2) if 8' stops and couplers are the lowest-pitched stops used in the measure before the ossia, those 8' stops and couplers are removed for the duration of the ossia.

Because of the large number of registration changes within the work, an instrument with an adjustable combination action is optimal. Otherwise, the performer will need a console assistant for stop changes.

Interpretation

Clean articulation clearly aids the "precise and sharply etched rhythm" that Crumb prescribes.34 Crisp articulation is particularly necessary in the rapid thirty-second-note figuration that occurs throughout the work. Furthermore, the dynamic, which is never less than f, creates a level of sound that takes time to disperse, particularly in a room that is acoustically live.

Except for the quasi danza parts, the freely composed parts are always introduced by an articulative element that imitates the percussive attack of bagpipes or musettes. Grace notes serve this purpose in sections 1 and 4, mordents in section 2, quintuplets in section 6, and arpeggios in section 7. The grace notes are played before the beat of the principal note; all other figures are played as written. In section 3, a distinction exists, and should be observed, between the dotted and triplet rhythms.

In the final cluster that ends the work, the right thumb has to play three notes at once: f-double-sharp, g-sharp, and a. The tip of the thumb plays the g-sharp, and the base of the thumb plays the two white keys. This maneuver is made more difficult by the position of the hand that is necessary to play seven notes at once.

A tenuto marking occurs at the pentatonic clusters in section 6 (mm. 68-69) and at the arpeggios in section 7 (mm. 73, 76, and 78). The tenuto causes a temporary broadening, and not a dramatic slowing, of the tempo; the passages that flank the tenuto passages are a tempo.

The pedal part is simple; throughout most of the piece, the organist merely holds down the two-note drone. Nevertheless, because of the wide distance between the two notes (a perfect eleventh), the length of time that they must be sounded, and the fact that they must be played by the toes, it is imperative that the organ bench be low enough that relaxed leg weight can be used to maintain the drone. Chromatic movement in the pedal part is marked legatiss. sempre, as opposed to the articulative clarity that is necessary in the manual parts.

C.F. Peters has published two versions of Pastoral Drone. The earlier version is an excellent-quality manuscript reproduction and the later version is typeset. Both are dated 1984, and both have the same cover, title page, and catalog number. Nevertheless, minor revisions in pitch, notation, registration, performance directions, dynamics, and scoring were made for the typeset version.35 Asked about the differences in the two versions, Crumb writes: "The typeset version is the definitive version. I checked the typesetting very carefully (I prepared it myself!)--so I hope there are no errata."36 Table 5 contains a comparison of differences in the two versions.

At the beginning of the manuscript version there are also two short instructions that are not in the typeset version: (1) the beginning registration has the direction "Sw. and Pos. balanced dynamically;" and (2) a footnote on the first page states "All long notes should be full value!"37

Pastoral Drone has not been commercially recorded. Gillespie lists a performance time of eight minutes, but the work is actually only six minutes and twenty seconds in length when played at the tempo indicated in the score.38

Praeludium by Ellen Taaffe Zwilich

Background

Violinist and composer Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, born in Miami, Florida in 1939, graduated from Florida State University and the Juilliard School. Her composition teachers were John Boda, Elliott Carter, and Roger Sessions. Besides becoming the first woman to take a composition D.M.A. degree at Juilliard, Zwilich was also the first woman to receive the Pulitzer Prize in music, which was awarded in 1983 for Symphony No. 1. Most of her compositions are chamber and orchestral works, including two symphonies. She has accepted numerous commissions from major orchestras.39

The work selected for this article, Praeludium, is Zwilich's only solo organ work.40 It was commissioned by the Boston chapter of the American Guild of Organists and published in 1987. Organist James David Christie played the premiere at the Church of the Advent in Boston, Massachusetts on May 1, 1988.

Asked in 1993 if she were planning any other organ compositions, Zwilich wrote: "YES! I will be writing a work for chorus and organ for next season, and I'd love to write more--I love the instrument."41 The work, A Simple Magnificat for SATB chorus and organ (1994), has now been completed and published. The premiere was recently performed at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, which commissioned the work.42

Structure

In the preface to the score of her first symphony, Zwilich describes her approach to composition:

First, I have long been interested in the elaboration of large-scale works from the initial material. This "organic" approach to musical form fascinates me both in the development of the material and in the fashioning of a musical idea that contains the "seeds" of the work to follow.

Second, in my recent works I have been developing techniques that combine modern principles of continuous variation with older (but still immensely satisfying) principles, such as melodic recurrence and clearly defined areas of contrast.43

This organic approach to the composition of Symphony No.1, whose premiere was in 1982, is similar to the organization of Praeludium, published five years later. The opening Maestoso of Praeludium contains the compositional techniques that shape the work: (1) complex harmonies and dense textures that result from piling up thirds; (2) distinctive articulative elements, or headmotives, used to begin melodic lines; and (3) frequent changes in texture.

Brochure notes in a 1986 recording of Zwilich's Symphony No.1 describe the first movement of the symphony, but they also accurately describe the genesis of Praeludium:

Everything in the work arises from the melodic and harmonic implications of the first fifteen bars, music Zwilich says she felt compelled to write. These [evolutions] work up to a sustained allegro that ultimately subsides into an ending as quiet as the beginning. All the most complex harmonies come from piling third upon third upon third.44

Praeludium develops according to the same construct. It contains four continuous sections: Maestoso, Più mosso, Allegro moderato, and Tempo I. Material from the Maestoso is later developed in both the Più mosso and the Allegro moderato. Both the tempo and dynamic increase gradually until the climax (mm. 168-73). The final section, Tempo I, has the tempo and dynamic of the Maestoso. The structural organization of the four sections of Praeludium is illustrated in Table 6.

Registration

In a note to the player, Bolcom writes about the desired instrument for Mysteries: "The object is that this music should be equally effective on any type of organ, large or small, Romantic or Baroque--even on electronic organs."13 Each movement can be performed on a two-manual instrument, although a three-manual instrument is optimum. Because the score rarely indicates crescendos or diminuendos that require expression shades, the work can be performed adequately on an instrument without expressive divisions.

Although a large list of specific stops is not required, two movements recommend registrations that are often unavailable on small instruments. First, "La lugubre gondola" requires a 32' pedal Bourdon, but a footnote indicates that a 16' stop may be substituted if a suitable 32' stop is unavailable. Second, "Dying Star" requires a pp 16' and 2'  stop combination for the Bach chorale harmonization.

Bolcom writes that "registration is largely left to the organist, except for a few suggestions here and there."14 Because of the wide latitude given to the performer, and the variety of acceptable instruments, there are many possible registrations. Table 1 has an appropriate registration for a three-manual instrument.

The beginning of "The Endless Corridor" requires a "cool-sounding" 8' pp stop for each manual and a pp 16' pedal stop.15 The upper voice (right hand) requires a "different color" in m. 10 and the middle voice (left hand) requires a similar substitution in m. 14. The change in timbre can result from substituting a different 8' stop, adding a soft mutation, or substituting a 4' stop and playing an octave lower. It is important to maintain the pp dynamic; therefore stops of significant dynamic contrast should be avoided. The two manual voices return to their original registrations in mm. 18-19, and continue to the end of the movement.

No specific stops are indicated in "Eternal Flight." The opening section (5/1-7/2) requires at least two manuals, one with a pp registration, and the other somewhat louder for the sf material. If three manuals are available, the pp material is divided at random between two of the manuals, as indicated in the score.16 The pedal has to alternate between pp and sf dynamics in the opening section; this switch can be accomplished by quickly coupling soft pedal stops to the Great manual for the sf spots only. The middle section (7/2-8/2) is played on the Great manual alone. For the crescendo to fff and the subsequent diminuendo to pp, the crescendo pedal and other expression pedals may be used; if neither is available, a console assistant can add or remove stops. Registration for the final section (8/2-9/4) is the same as at the beginning, with the exception that the Great manual is not used.

The registration shown in Table 1 for "La lugubre gondola" is specified in the score. For the two manuals, Bolcom wants stops of "different but related color."17 In the pedal, a 32' flue is best, although the piece can be performed with a 16' pedal stop.

"Dying Star" requires an "8' soft flute with much 'chiff' for the flute figuration that continues throughout the movement.18 On a large instrument, a combination of 8' flute stops, instead of a single stop, is often necessary for sufficient dynamic. Registration for the harmonization of An Wasserflüssen Babylon (16/1), is "2' and 16' only--with a distant, otherworldly registration."19 Because of the ppp dynamic, there is often little choice of stops, however. On a large instrument it may be possible to couple manuals together for the desired pitch combination and timbre. The same chorale registration is coupled to the pedal, because the chorale cannot be played on manuals alone. The 4' pedal stop that was added for the "subliminal" chorale melody at the beginning of the movement (13/1-15/1) is removed before the chorale harmonization begins.

Double pedal technique is necessary for all movements except the first. In addition, pedal clusters are in "Eternal Flight" and "La lugubre gondola." Because of the slow tempos, however, the clusters are easy to play. The pedal clusters in "Eternal Flight" have to be carefully practiced, nevertheless; some require awkward positions--the C to E-flat interval played by the left foot in 8/4, for example.

Interpretation

Because of the programmatic theme of Mysteries, each movement should be interpreted in a way that is consistent with the text associations. For example, in the trio "The Endless Corridor," Bolcom creates the aural impression of three slowly moving, endlessly drifting voices. No tonal, motivic, or rhythmic relationships exist between the voices, no suggestion of cadence or phrase structure occurs, and the angularity of the voices discourages melodic perception.

The rhythm of "The Endless Corridor" is played precisely as written; because the irregular motion of the voices has been created rhythmically, further rubato is unnecessary and contrary to the character of the movement. Legato articulation further enhances the intentional monotony. Selection of thinly voiced, distant-sounding stops is consistent with the "cool-sounding" stops mentioned in the score. Slight shading with expression pedals is appropriate at locations indicated in the score.

In contrast to the precisely notated rhythm of the first movement, the spatial rhythmic notation in "Eternal Flight" allows considerable freedom in rhythmic interpretation. Creating a sense of immense space is important at the beginning, with a certain unpredictability when the pointillistic staccato clusters are played. Near the end of the opening section (6/3-7/1), the clusters and figuration become more densely packed, as if drifting closer and closer in space; the increased density should not be perceived by the listener as an increase in tempo, however. Bolcom indicates short accelerandos at irregular intervals by using arrows (----> ).

A series of ritardando arrows ( <----) reduce the tempo at the beginning of the middle section of "Eternal Flight" (7/2). The middle section has the broadest tempo, the thickest texture, the longest note values, and the loudest dynamic of the movement. The legato, parallel clusters in this section require a considerable amount of finger substitution, but the long note values allow sufficient time.

The third section of the movement (8/2-9/4) reverses the motion of the first section in a gradual process of disintegration: (1) clusters that are at first close together become spaced farther and farther apart; (2) the dynamic decreases; (3) pitch becomes gradually lower; and (4) texture thins to single notes. The performer helps to communicate the disintegration by allowing playing gestures to become gradually slower, to the point that notes in the final few systems are gently pressed down. If the console is in view of the audience, it is vital that the performer not relax his/her body posture, so that intensity is maintained during the increasingly longer periods of silence between the final notes.

"La lugubre gondola" has a stifling, airless quality created by the long note values, low pitches, and pauses of various lengths. Although the movement is almost entirely unmetered, the note values are relative, and must be played precisely in rhythm. Because of the difficulty in counting the long note values, the performer can count quarter notes, at the rate of one per second, as a basic pulse, and write the number of quarter-note pulses over each note in the score as listed in Table 2.20

The comma symbols used for the long pauses of varying lengths are unexplained in the score. The same symbols appear, however, in a previous Bolcom work, Hydraulis, and are defined in a foreword as "pauses, ranging from long to very short, depending mainly on context of the passage." In a recent letter, Bolcom confirmed that the Hydraulis pauses also apply to Mysteries.21

The eighth-note figuration that appears in the metered middle section of the movement (11/2-11/3) is played with light, elegant articulation. In the unmetered final section (11/3-11/4), playing gestures become increasingly slower; intensity must be maintained during the pauses, though.

The title "La lugubre gondola" is from an 1882 piano piece of the same name by Franz Liszt. Liszt had the inspiration for the piece while watching funeral processions by gondola through the Venetian canals, when he was staying with Richard Wagner and Cosima (Liszt's daughter, who had married Wagner) in Venice. Anecdotally, Liszt abruptly quit working on his final oratorio and wrote two versions of La lugubre gondola in December 1882, after he had a strange presentiment--presumably of Wagner's impending death. Irrespectively, Wag-ner died in Venice two months later, and his body was borne by gondola in the funeral procession.22 Although not widely performed, several pianists have recorded the piano piece La lugubre gondola, No. 1; listening to such recordings is helpful in establishing the mood of the Bolcom movement, because the central, metered section of the Bolcom movement quotes the Liszt work.

"Dying Star" begins with thirty-second-note flute figuration marked "legato, even throughout."23 A more detached articulation is appropriate, however, if the room is acoustically live or if the selected flute does not have enough chiff for articulative clarity. Nevertheless, the articulation should not be a mechanical staccato.

The thirty-second-note figuration in the right-hand part continues to the end of the movement, and it is impossible to play all four voices of the An Wasserflüssen Babylon chorale fragments (beginning at 16/1) in the left hand alone. It is therefore necessary for the pedal, coupled to the manual, to play the tenor and bass voices of the chorale. Articulation for the chorale is molto legato for both manual and pedal parts. Bolcom commented on the significance of An Wasserflüssen Babylon to this movement: "That chorale prelude always gave a chilling intimation of eternity; I could imagine a dead Earth with some eternal record[ing] of it [An Wasserflüssen Babylon] playing (or a ghostly organist)."24

During the long blocks of silence (beginning at 16/4 and continuing to the end of the movement) it is important to follow Bolcom's instructions: "These pauses are exactly timed--be sure to remain physically suspended during them so that the tension is not lost."25 As in the second and third movements, the fourth also ends with a gradual disintegration of musical texture in space and time.

No errata were discovered in the score, and Bolcom confirms that he knows of none. Mysteries has not been commercially recorded. Bolcom lists a performance time of seventeen minutes and ten seconds for the entire work, broken down by movement as follows:

The Endless Corridor  [3:35]

Eternal Flight   [2:40]

La lugubre gondola     [5:45]

Dying Star       [5:10]26

lists stops suggested in the score for a three-manual organ.

Because the Trompette en chamade 8' is used as a solo stop against the full Great manual, the stop is most convenient on a secondary manual or floating division. If a chamade is unavailable, another loud trumpet or combination of reeds can be substituted. For the last pedal notes in the work, a 32' Bourdon is effective, although a footnote in the score indicates that a 16' Bourdon may be substituted, if necessary.46

Interpretation

 

In the preface to the score, Christie writes: "Praeludium was conceived in the spirit of the 17th-century North German 'Stylus phantasticus' and is to be performed as a fantasia with interpretive spontaneity and much freedom. The articulations are indicated to encourage clarity in all lines and textures."47 Besides working for clarity, the performer should observe the tempo markings in the score. As illustrated in Table 6, the tempo increases at major structural posts until the climax of the work (mm. 168-72).

A vocal 16' principal is specified in the score for the short pedal solo at the beginning of the Maestoso; if the principal is unavailable, 16' and 8' flutes are substituted. The pedal voices should be articulated cleanly, with attention paid to agogic accents that are marked above or below some of the notes. The molto legato marking in m. 3 applies to stepwise movement in m. 3 and mm. 8-10. Because of the wide leaps in double- and triple-pedal textures, an entirely legato articulation is impossible.

The pedal solo is followed by a section of densely textured harmonies that arise gradually out of piled-up thirds. The aural effect of piling up thirds is one of individual melodic lines coalescing into a chord; this recurrent compositional technique serves as a unifying characteristic of the work. During the process, the gradual change from Choir manual to Great manual in mm. 15-18 requires the left hand to "thumb up" to the Great manual while simultaneously holding three notes on the Choir manual. Depending on the instrument and the location of the manuals, it may be possible during this section to "thumb down" to the Great manual from the manual above, thus making this manual change less difficult.

The pedal motive at the beginning of the Più mosso is marked non legato, but the sixteenth notes should be given sufficient length for the pedal reeds to speak. The low pedal thirds in mm. 34-47 can be played by the left foot alone. In mm. 50-55, the accel. poco a poco increases the tempo to 112; restraint is necessary, however, because of a natural tendency to accelerate too much during the long note values. The right-hand part in mm. 62-64 is played one octave lower if the instrument has a short upper octave.

The climactic section, Allegro moderato, is a fugato that contrapuntally combines its subject with motives from the first two sections of Praeludium. Articulation of the staccatos and slurs in this section should be observed exactly as marked in the score. At m. 153 the Trompette en chamade may be coupled to the Great manual to achieve the fff dynamic. Alternatively, additional intramanual couplers or a sfz mechanism can be used.

Three short passages in the third section (mm. 131-34, 153-56, and 160-63) are marked: "Omit upper notes if not available."48 Even if the upper notes are available, though, it may be necessary to omit them if the sound is too overbearing. The extreme dissonance, in combination with full organ and high register, is excessively loud on some instruments.

At the climax in mm. 168-72 it is necessary for the left thumb to take the top two notes of the left-hand chord, because of the thirteen-voice texture at that point. Also, a meter change from 4/2 to 4/4 occurs in mm. 171-74; the note values remain constant, however. At m. 174 the pedal has to be reduced quickly from fff to subito mp.

Finally, the short closing section, Tempo I, serves as a soft codetta to Praeludium. In m. 185 the final pedal interval, a perfect octave, has the instruction: "32' Bd. alone or play the lowest 'A' on Bd. 16' only."49 Another possibility, however, is to play the pitches A and e on the 16' Bourdon; the resultant harmonic produces the desired 32' tone.

The score has one error: Page 6, Measure 81, Beat 2: the sharp in the bass clef should precede the F, not the A.

Praeludium has not been commercially recorded. The performance time is approximately eight minutes, if played at the score tempos.   

Notes

 

            1.         George Ritchie and George Stauffer, Organ Technique: Modern and Early (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1992), 304.

            2.         Marilou Kratzenstein, Survey of Organ Literature and Editions (Ames, Iowa: Iowa State University Press, 1980), 190.

            3.         Viktor Lukas, A Guide to Organ Music, 5th ed., ed. Reinhard G. Pauly, trans. Anne Wyburd (Portland, Oregon: Amadeus Press, 1989), 229.

            4.         John Woodford, "His Night at the Opera," Michigan Today 24, no. 4 (December 1992): 1-3.

            5.         Michael Lawrence Mazzatenta, "The Gospel Preludes of William Bolcom" (D.M.A. diss., Arizona State University, 1991), 95; William Bolcom, Letter to this writer, October 20, 1993; Id., Gospel Preludes, Book Three (New York: Edward B. Marks, 1994).

            6.         William Bolcom, Mysteries (New York: Edward B. Marks, 1981).

            7.         "Hartt Contemporary Organ Music Festival," The American Organist 14, no. 7 (July 1980): 22.

            8.         Bolcom, Mysteries, 1.

            9.         Ibid., 2.

            10.       Lukas, 238.

            11.       The symbol 11/2-11/3 refers to page 11, system 2 and page 11, system 3 of the score. All score references to movements 2, 3, and 4 of Mysteries, which are unmetered, will use this system.

            12.       Bolcom, Mysteries, 16.

            13.       Ibid., 2.

            14.       Ibid.

            15.       Ibid.

            16.       Ibid., 5-6.

            17.       Ibid, 10.

            18.       Ibid., 12.

            19.       Ibid., 15.

            20.       A footnote on page ten of the score defines a stemmed double whole note as two times as long as a double whole note.

            21.       William Bolcom, Hydraulis (New York: Edward B. Marks, 1976), 2; Id., Letter to this writer, October 20, 1993.

            22.       Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (London: Macmillan and Co., 1980), s.v. "Liszt, Franz," §4: Rome and the last years, by Humphrey Searle.

            23.       Bolcom, Mysteries, 12.

            24.       Bolcom, Letter to this writer, October 20, 1993.

            25.       Bolcom, Mysteries, 16.

            26.       Ibid., 2.

            27.       H. Wiley Hitchcock and Stanley Sadie, eds., The New Grove Dictionary of American Music (London: Macmillan Press, 1986), s.v. "Crumb, George," by Edith Borroff.

            28.       George Crumb, Pastoral Drone (New York: C.F. Peters, 1984).

            29.       Byron Belt, "AGO National Convention San Francisco 1984," TAO 18, no. 8 (August 1984): 29.

            30.       George Crumb, "Annotated Chronological List of Works," in George Crumb: Profile of a Composer, ed. Don Gillespie (New York: C. F. Peters, 1986), 112.

            31.       David Cope, "Biography," in George Crumb: Profile of a Composer, 14-15.

            32.       Crumb, Letter to this writer, Oct. 14, 1993.

            33.       Crumb, Pastoral Drone, 9.

            34.       Crumb, Pastoral Drone, 4.

            35.       References to the score in the text of this article are to the later, typeset version.

            36.       Crumb, Letter to this writer, Oct. 14, 1993.

            37.       Crumb, Pastoral Drone (manuscript version), 3.

            38.       George Crumb, "Annotated Chronological List of Works," in George Crumb: Profile of a Composer, 112; Two hundred seventy-nine total beats divided by forty-four beats per minute equals 6.34 minutes.

            39.       Hitchcock, s.v. "Zwilich, Ellen Taaffe."

            40.       Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, Praeludium (Hillsdale, New York: Mobart Music Publications, 1987).

            41.       Zwilich, Letter to this writer, October 21, 1993.          

            42.       Zwilich, Telephone conversation with this writer, April 24, 1995.

            43.       Richard Dyer, brochure notes for Ellen Taaffe Zwilich: Symphony No. 1, New World Records NW336-2, 4.

            44.       Ibid., 5.

            45.       Zwilich, Praeludium, 2.

            46.       Ibid., 11.

            47.       Ibid., 2.

            48.       Ibid., 9-10.

            49.       Ibid., 11.

This article will be continued.

Interpretive Suggestions for Modern Czech Organ Works, Part 1

by Earl Holt
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Earl Holt is a graduate of Elon College, the University of Michigan, and Arizona State University, where he recently completed the D.M.A. degree in organ performance with Robert Clark. Dr. Holt served on the music faculty of San Jacinto College North in Houston from 1982-90, and is currently a full-time Visiting Assistant Professor of Music Theory at ASU. His article, "Interpretive Suggestions for Four American Organ Works," appeared in the August and September 1995 issues of The Diapason; and his article, "Interpretive Suggestions for Modern Swedish Organ Works," appeared in the January and February 1996 issues of The Diapason.

Subjugated by the Soviet Union after World War II, Czechoslovakia became a socialist state in 1948; Czech arts organizations were systematically dismantled by the Communist government. Music was subject to the Doctrine of Socialist Realism, whose tenets dictated socialist content and readily comprehensible language, to achieve the ideological goals of the government. Late Romantic and folk styles were encouraged; Western avant-garde styles were deemed morally decadent. In addition, the atheistic stance of the Czech government made artistic association with the Church a liability, as summarized in The New Grove: "Along with the musical societies and their network, the function of church music in the life of society was destroyed."4

Despite the restrictions, Czech composers sought renewed international contact in the early 1960s, and were allowed to attend international music festivals. Active organ composers of this period were Petr Eben, Karel Janecek, Miloslav Kabelác, Otmar Mácha, Karel Reiner, Klement Slavicky, and Milos Sokola. The Czech government, reflecting the Soviet Union's relaxation in the enforcement of the socialist realism doctrine, began to encourage the composition of contemporary organ music by providing state subsidies, encouraging composition and interpretation competitions, and allowing international publication and dissemination of the most successful works. Nevertheless, the official atheism of the communist party government undoubtedly influenced the composition of secular organ compositions by its continuing authority to prevent publication of liturgical works. Historian Marilou Kratzenstein writes:

With the exception of Eben, none of these [composers] has written extensively for the organ, but each has written at least one or two very fine works. All of them, excepting Kabelác, have relied heavily on folk melodies and rhythms and have worked in a style which is an outgrowth of post-Romanticism. In general, Czech organ compositions are meant for concert, not liturgical, use. They are often virtuoso pieces, often symphonic, and can best be realized on an organ which is able to accommodate Romantic literature.5

Since the end of the Soviet Union's domination of eastern Europe in the late 1980s, and the Soviet Union's subsequent disintegration in 1991, Czechoslovakia has separated into two autonomous regions, the Czech Republic and Slovakia, in 1993.

An important outlet for international distribution of Czech organ works during the last two decades has been Panton's series, Nuove Composizioni per Organo, a six-volume set of contemporary organ works. The pieces included in the set were all prize-winning compositions at the annual Prague Spring International Music Festival.6 Of the four Czech works selected for this article, three are published in the sixth volume of Nuove Composizioni.

 Editors of the fourth, fifth, and sixth volumes stated Panton's editorial policy toward registration data in the respective prefaces. The editor of the fourth volume, Alena Veselá, writes:

In revising this miscellany I first of all respected the registration data of the composers. As far as an author has not written his composition with a completely real conception of sound, I thought it right to leave inventive freedom to the interpreter and not to add registration suggestions of my own.7

Otomar Kvech, the composer of Prazské Panorama, one of the selected works in this article, served as editor of the fifth volume of Nuove Composizioni. In its preface, he writes:

All these compositions require a modern instrument with rich possibilities of registration. Their scores contain only such registration data that have been mentioned in the authors' manuscripts. An interpreter may use all his creative freedom in application [of] the rich scale of colour possibilities of [the] organ.8

In volume six, editor Václav Rabas comments further on registration, and the desired instrument:

Having revised the particular works I therefore respected composers' datas [sic] of manuals and registration that however are mostly general. For this reason it is above all the task of every interpreter to register and interpret the work in a creative way, according to his possibilities and possibilities of particular instrument. As far as an indication of manuals is mentioned, the organ under discussion is a three-manual instrument, the type most common today.

I. manual--great organ

II. manual--choir organ

III. manual--swell organ9

This article surveys four selected secular organ works by modern Czech composers and compiles relevant performance information in an attempt to make the compositions more comprehensible and accessible to recitalists, teachers, and students.

Fantasia by Jozka Matej

Background

Jozka Matej, born in Brusperk, Moravia in 1922, had his first music studies with Frantisek Míta Hradil in Ostrava at the Masaryk Institute of Music and Singing. He then studied organ with J.B. Krajs and composition with Emil Hlobil and Zdenek Hula at the Prague Conservatory from 1942 to 1947. Further composition study was with Jaroslav Rídky at the Prague Academy of Musical Arts from 1947 to 1951. He taught courses in music for drama students at the academy from 1952 to 1954, but retired from teaching to become a full-time composer.10

Matej has composed two symphonies, orchestral and chamber works, a fully orchestrated cantata, and widely known educational music for winds. His composition is heavily influenced by Moravian folk music of his native Lach region. Liner notes to a recording of the Concerto for Trumpet, French Horn, and Trombone describe Matej as "experienced in all types of music, with a firm, definitely established niche in Czech music."11

Besides the work selected for this article, Fantasia (Fantasy), no other organ works of Matej were found. The premiere of Fantasia took place at the Prague Spring International Music Festival in 1984.12

Structure

Mid-twentieth-century Czech composers often used the names of traditional polyphonic forms, including the chaconne, toccata, and fantasy, as carriages for their works.13 Such titles usually bear only a superficial relation to formal structure, however, and might have been arbitrarily selected for their ability to earn government imprimaturs as secular works appropriate for publication.

Fantasia exhibits a modern harmonic idiom, as other arbitrarily titled modern Czech works do. The work is comprised of five continuous sections, delineated by rhythm, tempo, and dynamic changes. The main rhythmic figure in sections 1, 3, and 5 contains continuous, four-voice triplets. Sections 2 and 4 have simple beats, primarily, although a few supertriplets occur in section 4. Passages at the ends of sections 2 and 4 are related motivically, but the two sections begin differently: section 2 begins contrapuntally, with two rhythmically imitative voices, whereas section 4 (religioso) begins as a four-voice, atonal chorale.

Matej uses simple meter, despite the extended sections of triplets that could be more easily scored in compound meter. Sections 1, 3, and 5 are in 2/2 meter, except for a few measures of 3/2 and 4/2 in sections 1 and 5. Sections 2 and 4 are in 4/4 meter, except for two measures of 5/4 in section 4.

Tempo changes also occur between sections. Sections 1, 3, and 5 are fast, and sections 2 and 4 are comparatively slower. Within each section, however, the tempo does vary slightly. Sharp dynamic changes occur between sections, except between sections 2 and 3, where the change is from pp to p. Table 1 is a structural outline of the piece.

Registration

The score is marked for a three-manual organ, although a two-manual instrument is adequate. The manual compass is Eb to f''', and the pedal compass is C# to c', so the work is accessible on virtually any instrument. Expressive divisions are not required. The frequent dynamic changes can be made by an adjustable combination action or with the help of a console assistant. The numerous stop changes make it difficult for the performer to handle registration and maintain continuity at the same time.

The score names only one specific stop--a 16' Pedal Bombarde in m. 35. All other registration changes are indicated by numerous dynamic markings that range from ppp to fff, a practice that permits the performer considerable freedom in stop selection. Table 2 presents registration suggestions based on the dynamic markings indicated for each manual in the score.

Interpretation

The most difficult interpretive challenge in Fantasia is to accommodate the constant rhythmic change that creates the molto drammatico character of the work. Changes in tempo, for example, occur thirty-eight times. Most of the changes in tempo within each of the five main sections are small, subito adjustments of four to six beats per minute. Larger tempo changes occur between the five main sections. A note at the beginning of the score addresses tempo: "Resulting tempo will be dependent on possibilities of particular instruments. Only the quick passages can be slowed down, however by not more than 4 speeds of [the] metronome."14 Exactly what constitutes a "quick passage" is unclear, but the fastest tempos occur in the first, third, and fifth sections of the work (mm. 1-47, 94-143, and 177-235).

Besides changing tempo frequently, Matej uses arrows of varying lengths to indicate gradual accelerandos ( ----------> ) and gradual ritardandos ( <---------- ). While the use of such arrows is not unique, they occur ubiquitously, effectively eliminating the perception of a regular pulse in many passages. Besides the ritardando arrows, allargando and ritardando markings occur at the ends of many phrases. Although distorted by the various compositional techniques presented above, the rhythmic pulse should reflect the composer's choice of meter: the half note gets the beat in sections 1, 3, and 5, and the quarter note gets the beat in sections 2 and 4, as shown in Table 1.

Matej precisely marks articulation, too. Slurs indicate phrasing, and accents (agogic and dynamic) are used liberally. Staccato articulation is not marked anywhere in the score, although some passages must be played detached, either for acoustic clarity or because of fingering in dense textures. Traditional Italian terms are used at tempo changes and might also suggest the character of the articulation--sostenuto, amabile, giocoso, agitato, pesante, leggierissimo, and marcato, for example.

Optional cuts, or vide passages, occur at mm. 42, 62-93, and 218. The cuts at mm. 42 and 218 are, in each case, a single chord held for four beats. Although the long chords serve as cadences, their omission creates a heightened dramatic effect, and those two cuts are recommended. The long optional cut in mm. 62-93, however, would reduce the second section of the work from forty-six to only fourteen measures, leaving it significantly shorter than, and thus out of balance with, the other four sections. Such a large cut is recommended only if time considerations are paramount.

No commercial recordings of Fantasia were found. The performance time is nine minutes and thirty seconds, if no optional cuts are made.

Improvviso by Jirí Dvorácek

Background

Jirí Dvorácek was born in 1928 in Vamberk, eastern Bohemia. He studied organ at the Prague Conservatory from 1943 to 1947. After graduation, and two years as an organist and music teacher, he began studies in composition with Jaroslav Rídky and Václav Dobiás at the Prague Academy of Musical Arts from 1949 to 1953. In 1953 Dvorácek was appointed as a professor of composition at the academy, and he became head of the composition department in 1979. The Czech government named him an Artist of Merit in 1983. He also served as president of the Union of Czech Composers and Concert Artists from 1987 to 1989.15

Dvorácek has composed a large number of works for orchestra, chamber ensemble, piano, and voice. His vocal works often have patriotic or political themes. For example, Male Choirs, sung often at Czech public concerts, was composed in 1955 for the tenth-anniversary celebration of the World War II liberation of Czechoslovakia. Another work, From the Diary of a Prisoner (1960) for mixed choir, is set to Vietnamese poems by Ho Chi Minh.16 The chamber music and instrumental music form the largest body of Dvorácek's works. Although his compositions require modern performance techniques, most are tonally based; even his dodecaphonic compositions are constructed to avoid atonality.17

Besides the work selected for this article, Improvviso (1982), Dvorácek has composed a Sonata for Organ (1979), performed at the Prague Spring International Music Festival in 1980, and Violin and Organ Play (1984). The premiere of Improvviso took place in the Prague Rudolfinum by organist Milan Slechta on March 19, 1983.18

Structure

Improvviso (Improvisation), as the title suggests, is a free work. Dvorácek writes: "By the title Improvviso I wanted to express spontaneity of the music development and non-complicated image in accordance with the thematic material."19 The work, which lacks an identifiable formal structure, has four continuous sections that are delineated by tempo changes. Structural unity is primarily created by rhythm--the use of a constant metronomic pulse of eighty beats per minute--and by repetition of specific compositional techniques (gradually piling up notes into clusters, or the extensive use of trio texture, for example).

Compound meter occurs throughout the work--all 6/8, except for four measures of 9/8 (mm. 145 and 187-89). The basic pulse of eighty beats per minute applies to the dotted quarter note in sections 1 and 3, and to the dotted half note in sections 2 and 4. The tempo therefore doubles in sections 2 and 4, but nevertheless retains the basic pulse. There is no discernible tonal center in the work. Large chords are often based on intervals of a perfect fourth, perfect fifth, or tritone. Table 3 is a structural outline of the work.

Registration

Improvviso is written for a three-manual instrument, labeled I--Great, II--Choir, and III--Swell, although it can be played on two manuals, if quick stop changes are made. The manual compass for the work is C to bb.''' The pitches a''' and bb.''' occur only in the right-hand part in mm. 269-72, however. Those four measures could be played an octave lower, allowing the work to be performed on a 56-key instrument. The pedal compass is C to g', requiring a 32-note pedal clavier. The highest pedal note, g', only occurs in m. 315, but there does not appear to be an acceptable way to alter the pedal part to eliminate the g'.

No expression pedal markings occur in the score. The performer or a console assistant can make all stop changes; an assistant would be especially helpful if no adjustable combination action is available. The score lists no specific stops or traditional ensemble registrations. Stop changes are primarily indicated by numerous dynamic markings that range from pp to ff. Occasionally, though, an organ stop pitch designation is given. Table 4 presents registration suggestions based on organ stop pitch designations and dynamic markings in the score.

Interpretation

The chief interpretive challenge for the performer of Improvviso is to maintain rhythmic pulse and dramatic intensity throughout. During passages with long note-values, constant internal counting of eighth notes will be necessary (mm. 269-81, for example).

Sections 2 and 4 are technically challenging because of trills in the manuals, and occasional pedal trills. All trills in the work begin on the principal note, as indicated by a footnote in the score.20 The pedal solo in mm. 289-318 is marked tutti, but 32' stops should be omitted because of the fast tempo. The long trill at the end of the pedal solo (mm. 319-35) must be played by the right foot, because of the double-pedal part. If the performer cannot sustain the trill, however, the ossia--which has manual and pedal parts, but does not require the extended pedal trill--may be substituted. Pedal trills elsewhere must be played by a single foot, because the pedal part is so active and the feet are so far apart.

Not only do the bar lines in Improvviso serve as an organizational convenience but they also imply regular rhythmic accents on strong beats. Phrasing is meticulously indicated by slurs. Staccato dots (pp. 6, 8, 12, and 15) and agogic accents (pp. 5, 7, and 8) indicate articulation. The term pesante occurs in mm. 73, 288, and 385; besides emphasis on each note, Dvorácek also uses the term to imply a ritardando, since the following measures are marked a tempo.

Dynamic changes occur often and are carefully marked. The final dynamic marking in the work occurs in m. 282; because this ff dynamic lasts for 119 measures, however, the registration must not be overbearing.

Dvorácek confirms that there are no notation errors in the Panton score. He also writes that Panton produced a live recording of the first performance (stereo 8111 0357).21 The work has a performance time of six minutes.

 

 

Notes

                        1.                  Marilou Kratzenstein, Survey of Organ Literature and Editions (Ames, Iowa: Iowa State University Press, 1980), 164.

                        2.                  Corliss R. Arnold, Organ Literature: A Comprehensive Survey, 2d ed., vol. 1 (Metuchen: Scarecrow Press, 1984), 251.

                        3.                  Felix Aprahamian, brochure notes for Concert Pieces for Organ, Hyperion Records, CDA66265, 2.

                        4.                  Stanley Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (London: Macmillan and Co., 1980), s.v. "Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, §IX, 1: Russian SFSR, Russian art music, (iv) The political background to the Soviet period," by Rita McAllister; Ibid., s.v. "Czechoslovakia, §I, 1: Art Music, Bohemia and Moravia, (v) Since 1945," by Oldrich Pukl.

                        5.                  Kratzenstein, 165.

                        6.                  Václav Rabas, ed., Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 6, trans. Jana Kuhnová (Prague: Panton, 1983), preface.

                        7.                  Alena Veselá, ed., Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 4, trans. Jan Machac (Prague: Panton, 1974), preface, 7.

                        8.                  Otomar Kvech, ed., Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 5, trans. Jana Hanusová (Prague: Panton, 1979), preface, 6.

                        9.                  Rabas, preface.

                        10.              Sadie, s.v. "Matej, Josef;" Cenek Gardavsky, ed., Contemporary Czechoslovak Composers (Prague: Panton, 1965), s.v. "Matej, Josef," by Cenek Gardavsky; Nicolas Slonimsky, ed., Baker's Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, 8th ed. (New York: Schirmer Books, 1992), s.v. "Matej, Josef.

                        11.              Gardavsky, s.v. "Matej, Josef;" Milan Kuna, liner notes to Josef Matoj: Concerto for Trumpet, French Horn, and Trombone, Panton 110456-F.

                        12.              Rabas, preface.

                        13.              Arnold, vol. 1, 251.

                        14.              Josef Matej, Fantasia, ed. Václav Rabas, in Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 6 (Prague: Panton, 1983), 2.

                        15.              Gardavsky, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí;" Slonimsky, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí."

                        16.              Gardavsky, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí."

                        17.              Sadie, s.v. "Dvorácek, Jirí."

                        18.              Jirí Dvorácek, Improvviso, ed. Václav Rabas, in Nuove Composizioni per Organo, vol. 6 (Prague: Panton, 1983); Id., Letter to this writer, November 9, 1993.

                        19.              Dvorácek, Letter to this writer, November 9, 1993.

                        20.              Dvorácek, Improvviso, 4.

                        21.              Dvorácek, Letter to this writer, November 9, 1993.

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