Harpsichord News

Larry Palmer is harpsichord editor of THE DIAPASON.

Centenarian early keyboardist Virginia Duffey Pleasants died peacefully at her apartment in Philadelphia on November 26, 2011, seven months after celebrating her 100th birthday (see “Harpsichord News,” The Diapason, May 2011, p. 12).

Born in Urbana, Ohio on May 9, 1911, Virginia attended Wittenberg University and completed her baccalaureate degree with a major in piano performance at the Cincinnati College of Music (now the College-Conservatory of Music of the University of Cincinnati). Following further piano study in New York City and a first prize in the MacDowell Chamber Music Competition, she married Henry Pleasants, music critic of the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. After the conclusion of the Second World War, she joined her husband in Europe. Following more than two decades of assignments on the European continent, the couple moved to London in 1967, where Henry served as music critic for the International Herald Tribune and wrote a number of important books focused on the art of singing. Mrs. Pleasants taught early keyboards at Cambridge University for twenty years as an adjunct lecturer and was frequently heard as a recitalist on fortepiano, clavichord, and harpsichord. Four years after her husband’s death, Virginia returned to the United States in 2004. She continued to perform at her retirement home, Cathedral Village in North Philadelphia, and gave a memorable lecture-recital on the keyboard compositions of the Philadelphia composer Alexander Reinagle as part of the 2007 annual conference of the Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society, held at the University of North Texas, Denton.

Comments and news items are always welcome. Address them to Dr. Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275. E-mails to <[email protected]>.

Larry Palmer is harpsichord editor of THE DIAPASON.

Unusual scales at a recording session
We’ve heard tell of “June bugs caught in a screen door” or “skeletons copulating on a tin roof” as descriptive terms for the sound of the harpsichord, but a three-foot-long snake rattling at a recording session is a first in your harpsichord editor’s experience. And scary, for one who is just a few degrees shy of complete ophidiophobia! [In case the term is unfamiliar, it means “one who is irrationally afraid of snakes.”]

Fortunately for composer-harpsichordist Asako Hirabayashi, a member of her support team at the quiet, congregation-less St. Bridget’s Church in rural Johnson County, Iowa, was tuner David Kelzenberg, who has been known to provide housing for various reptiles (as well as the occasional traveling harpsichordist) at his own lodging in Iowa City. With Dave to capture the percussive interloper (discovered dozing in a window sill), all ended well, and the absolute quiet required for the recording session was restored.
The resulting compact disc, The Harpsichord in the New Millennium, is a highly recommended addition to the collection of new music for and with harpsichord. Hirabayashi, a superb player, is also a gifted creator of music. Her Sonatina No. 2 for Harpsichord was awarded the audience prize at the 2004 Aliénor Competition. Hearing it again on this disc reminds one why.
Several works for fortepiano and harpsichord duo (with Gail Olszewski as the fine fortepianist) are captivating pieces for this rare combination. Among my favorites is a Tango that already intrigues as a possible candidate for transcription and performance on two harpsichords.
However, to these ears the most ingratiating and beautiful pieces from this compilation of Hirabayashi’s recent works are those for violin and harpsichord (played with panache by the composer and Gina DiBello, principal second violinist of the Minnesota Orchestra), especially the Suite for Children (five charming miniatures with a total duration of 71⁄2 minutes), a stunning Fandango (slightly more than three minutes), and the clever Street Music (almost four minutes).
The sonically superior recording by Peter Nothnagle is rattle-free; total time just under 71 minutes; Albany Troy compact disc 1180 (www.albanyrecords.com). For scores, contact the composer at [email protected].

Comments and news items are always welcome. Address them to Dr. Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275. E-mails to [email protected].

Larry Palmer is harpsichord editor of THE DIAPASON.

A Love Letter to Ille: Peter
Watchorn’s Ahlgrimm Biography
Isolde Ahlgrimm (1914–1995), known as “Ille” to her close friends, was physically diminutive and personally self-effacing. She was also a woman of strong musical convictions, a prime mover in the 20th-century revival of the harpsichord and fortepiano, and one of the outstanding teachers ever to be encountered. Now, after a lengthy gestation period, her life story is available at last in Peter Watchorn’s book Isolde Ahlgrimm, Vienna and the Early Music Revival (Ashgate Publishing Limited: ISBN 978-0-7546-5787-3). The wait has been worth it! Dr. Watchorn has written a lucid, loving, and memorable prose picture of this pioneering Viennese figure, placing her, correctly, in the forefront of the early music revival, and documenting her contributions as one of the period’s leading keyboard artists.
Firmly based on interviews with the great harpsichordist, this is fascinating biography, moving from the Ahlgrimm family’s close connection to Johannes Brahms and Isolde’s formative study with Austrian composer Franz Schmidt and esteemed pianist and pedagogue Emil von Sauer, to the establishment of an extensive series of house concerts (Konzerte für Kenner und Liebhaber) with her husband, the instrument collector Erich Fiala, and the ultimate breakup of their marriage. Particularly moving is the picture of those harrowing years of Nazi hegemony in Vienna, including Ille’s account of her husband’s incarceration. Career highlights include Ahlgrimm’s monumental series of recordings for Philips, comprising nearly the complete harpsichord works of J. S. Bach, and the story, in her own words, of the association and friendship with Richard Strauss and the genesis of a unique page for harpsichord solo, created “for her exclusive concert use” by the master composer.
Additionally, this 264-page book contains Ahlgrimm’s complete discography; her own chronology of the concert series (in German, with English translation following); a list of her publications (as well as a complete text of the valedictory lecture “Current Trends in Performance of Baroque Music” [first published in Howard Schott’s English translation in The Diapason], re-transcribed by Mahan Esfahani, with musical examples uniformly set by Geoffrey Burgess); and Kim Kasling’s 1977 Diapason article “Harpsichord Lessons for the Beginner—à la Isolde Ahlgrimm.”
With more than thirty photographs from Ahlgrimm’s personal collection, a graceful foreword by Penelope Crawford and short preface from longtime friend Virginia Pleasants, this is a beautiful and indispensable volume, well worth its substantial price ($99.95; online orders from <www.ashgate.com&gt; may receive a discount). Even the book’s type-face (BACH Musicological Font by Yo Tomita) would almost certainly have delighted Ille, who during my student days, often referred to herself as “the Widow Bach” because she spent so much of her time practicing and playing JSB’s music.

Richard Strauss: Suite aus Capriccio for Harpsichord (with concert ending) in the arrangement by Isolde Ahlgrimm, edited by Rudolf Scholz. Schott RSV 9049 [ISMN M-50118-000-4] ($22.95).
Isolde Ahlgrimm received numerous requests from harpsichordists who wished to play this near-legendary single Strauss solo work for their instrument. She was consistently adamant in her refusals: after all, the composer had inscribed the two-page autograph of the work’s concert ending with these words “Für Isolde Ahlgrimm-Fiala/ als Eigentum und zum alleinigen Konzertgebrauch/ überlassen. [For Isolde Ahlgrimm-Fiala, given as her own property, with exclusive right of use in concert.] /s/ Dr. Richard Strauss.”
I was one of those who requested such permission in 1986, after she had retired from playing. Through the years she had made it evident that she was not being stingy with the work itself: she sent me a Xerox of the autograph ending, a complete facsimile of the original three-movement dance suite from the opera (as scored for violin, cello and harpsichord), with her fragmentary penciled “arrangement” notated below. She had, additionally, provided a taped copy of her unreleased recording of the work (made for Philips). But, just at the point at which we were discussing legal matters, Ille was overwhelmed by a trio of permission requests from Frau Alice Strauss, Hedwig Bilgram, and Professor Kohler of the Richard Strauss Institute in Munich. Better than upsetting all these important people, wrote Ahlgrimm, is that both arrangement and her ending “sleep the long sleep of libraries.” And that was that.
As an opera devoté and particular admirer of Strauss’s music, I determined that the best solution to this impasse would be to make my own arrangement based on the piano-vocal score of the opera, with a hint of the Strauss concert ending: the first four measures (readily available in the Müller von Asow thematic catalog), a brief bridge passage, and a “reminiscence” of Strauss’s final four measures (which I had in the Xerox from Ahlgrimm). These measures, as written by the composer, are not completely playable anyway, since they transcend (in two places) the top note found on ANY harpsichord. (Earlier, in measures 19–20 the composer had asked for high G#, A, and B in the right hand, while notating a sforzando/crescendo for the left!)
My solution has worked well for me, and I strongly recommend it to others. Now, with the publication of Ahlgrimm’s arrangement (insofar as it could be deciphered) a dedicated player is able to compare individual solutions with those chosen by the Viennese harpsichordist. As for frequently changing registrations, Ahlgrimm felt that it would be of little use to share her choices since they were for a German mass-produced harpsichord with pedals—an instrument, she pointed out, increasingly difficult to find.
Reading through the newly published score, I am struck with the strong feeling that Ille, coming directly from the opera’s Vienna premiere performances, attempted a too-literal transcription of Strauss’s many notes, thereby making the work both technically demanding and frequently unidiomatic for a plucked keyboard instrument. In her arrangement, many of the cello lines are placed an octave higher than written, creating close duets with the violin part, but leaving an empty stratum below, passages frankly better placed in the piano-vocal score. As for the composer’s ending, I long ago came to agree with Ille’s idea that “it should live the long sleep of libraries.” These pages do not add to the composer’s stature, but serve as reaffirmation for his love of instrumental color (he used harpsichord several times in orchestral and operatic scores). The concert ending shows that he regarded the instrument as a plucked piano—one that definitely suffers from the lack of a damper pedal.
Editor Scholz’s task, not an easy one, has been accomplished carefully. For every case in which I thought a note was wrong, comparison with sources proved his reading correct. (However, in the second dance, the Gigue, I still think the final soprano A in measure 20 sounds better as a G, even though all scores agree on the A). Perhaps the most interesting observation in Scholz’s “Notes” concerns the ending (labeled Cadenza): Scholz writes that in bar four Ahlgrimm corrected Strauss’s bass line [a-c#-e, b-d-f#] with a penciled notation [a-b-d, c#-d-e]—and that she used this version for her recording.
Isolde Ahlgrimm loved this piece, though she was unhappy about its difficulties (especially prior to concerts in which she played it!). I first heard it as she prepared for a performance at Vienna’s Auersperg Palace in August 1964. Several subsequent hearings occurred during her visits to the United States, including several in Dallas; concert performances occurring after 1965 did not make the list printed in Scholz’s commentary.
For now, lovers of Strauss’s music and admirers of Ahlgrimm’s artistry may appreciate having this printed memento, but certainly will continue to hope that the recording of her “own private Strauss” may eventually be made available.

Comments or news items for these pages are always welcome. Please address them to Dr. Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275; <[email protected]>.

Larry Palmer is harpsichord editor of THE DIAPASON.

“With a Lot of Help from Friends”
Post-Christmas desk clearing always reminds me not only of how cluttered my working space is, but also how much I owe to the generosity of friends and correspondents as they “keep me in the loop” about matters of mutual interest. So here follows a miscellany of unrelated, but (hopefully) fascinating items, brought to my attention because of a friend’s initiative.

Oscar Peterson
The death on December 23 of jazz great Oscar Peterson brought to a close the far-ranging career of this major keyboard artist. Richard Severo, writing in The New York Times for December 25, 2007, commented “Mr. Peterson was one of the greatest virtuosos in jazz, with a piano technique that was always meticulous and ornate and sometimes overwhelming. . . . One of the most prolific major stars in jazz history, he amassed an enormous discography. From the 1950s until his death, he released sometimes four or five albums a year. . . . Norman Granz, his influential manager and producer, helped Mr. Peterson realize [his] success, setting loose a flow of records on his own Verve and Pablo labels.”
One of the more unusual of these Pablo records was made in Los Angeles on January 26, 1976: with guitarist Joe Pass, Peterson played music from George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess in instrumental arrangements for acoustic guitar and CLAVICHORD. The digital re-release of this rare duo [Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-829-2] was brought to my attention by friend Linda Raney, the director of music at First Presbyterian Church, Santa Fe, NM, who had received it as a gift from a retired Episcopal priest.
Not the least of the joys of this disc comes from reading the original liner notes by Benny Green, who relates “The genesis of this album is wildly improbable, even by jazz standards. In the late summer of 1975 Oscar Peterson talked on BBC-TV with a succession of guests whose only common denominator was their commitment, either as amateurs or professionals, writers or performers, to problems of keyboard technique. One of these guests was Edward Heath, one-time Prime Minister of Great Britain, . . . [who] turned up with an instrument called the clavichord, . . . an instrument that presents intriguing enigmas, the most challenging of all being its dulcet tonal quality which defies the resources of sound recording engineers; there are times when music played on this instrument seems less like an act of premeditated artistic execution than a musical enchantment of silence.”
Peterson was so captivated by the clavichord’s musical capabilities that he determined to acquire one, with a view to making jazz on it. The Gershwin album was the result of this aural infatuation. Peterson’s inspired arrangements of Gershwin’s immortal music survive as a touching, gentle memento from this great keyboard master of jazz.

19th-Century Harpsichord Citings
From John Carroll Collins, Dallas bibliophile and reliable purveyor of esoteric musical knowledge, come these references to harpsichord connections for two outstanding Romantic-era composers: Georges Bizet and Frédéric Chopin.
“Once when we were discussing the use of the harpsichord in Paris toward the middle of the 19th-century, you asked about my sources, which at the time I could not remember. I have tried to check back on them, and following is what I was able to recover.
I found the reference to Bizet’s early keyboard instruction on the harpsichord in Bizet and His World by Mina Curtis (New York, 1958). Curtis apparently was not a musician herself, but taught in the English department at Smith College, where she counted among her devoted students the young Anne Morrow, later the wife of Charles Lindbergh. Curtis had a wide knowledge of the historical and biographical aspects of her subject, and during the preparation of her beautifully written and thoroughly researched study she amassed an impressive collection of autograph letters by Bizet and other members of his circle. On pages 13 and 14 she tells of Bizet’s early keyboard training.
One of his first teachers was his uncle, François Dalsarte (born 1811), who taught voice at the Conservatoire. This was in 1846 and 1847, when Bizet was eight and nine years old and thus too young for admittance there. At their home he shared lessons with Dalsarte’s children, Bizet’s cousins. For their lessons they used Dalsarte’s favorite instrument, a harpsichord that had belonged to Hortense de Beauharnais (1783–1837), wife of King Louis Napoleon of Holland and mother of Napoleon III [of France]. Curtis is sometimes vague about her sources, but I gather she found her information on Dalsarte in a book by his student Angélique Arnaud (François Dalsarte, Paris, 1882).
Jean-Jacques Eigeldinger, on page 184 of his Chopin: Pianist and Teacher (translated from the French, Cambridge University Press, 1986), mentions a harpsichord performance at a private concert in Paris on 25 December 1852. A group of Bach fugues was played on an early 18th-century harpsichord by one of Chopin’s students, the Norwegian Thomas Dyke Acland Tellefsen (1823–1874), this being just over three years after Chopin’s death. Eigeldinger gives as his source the Revue et gazette musicale de Paris, 1852–1853, page 447.”

Historic Harpsichordists in Hungary, Italy, and the Czech Republic
Robert Tifft (Dallas), long fascinated by the recordings of Hungarian revival harpsichordist János Sebestyén, provides comprehensive information about this highly-regarded artist in a remarkable website: <http://www.jsebestyen.org&gt;. Sites devoted to other lesser-known figures of European revival history may be accessed from the same address: Italian Luciano Sgrizzi (1910–1994); Landowska disciple Ruggero Gerlin (1899–1983); the “dean of Italian harpsichordists” Egida Giordani Sartori (1910–1999)—also interesting as the close friend and biographer of legendary soprano Toti Dal Monte; younger Hungarian artist Agnes Varallyay; and, added most recently, an accurate, complete discography and biography of leading Czech harpsichordist Zuzana Ruzickova.
Robert also sent a notice of the passing, on June 5, 2007, at age 64, of Hungarian harpsichordist Zsuzsa Pertis, a student of Isolde Ahlgrimm.

Fernando Valenti’s Scarlatti
Harpsichord aficionado and record collector David Kelzenberg ([email protected]) has completed his exhaustive project of locating all the Scarlatti recordings committed to long-playing discs by Fernando Valenti for Westminster Records beginning in 1951. Although the project was not ever to be comprehensive, Kelzenberg recently wrote, “To this day musicians wonder if Valenti actually managed to record all of the 545 sonatas in the Longo Edition [plus the Menuet in F]. After years of collecting scrounging, horse trading, and begging, I believe I have assembled all of [Valenti’s] Domenico Scarlatti that was ever commercially released by [the company]: 359 sonatas in all.”
David recently sent me eleven copied compact discs of these exciting, intensely musical performances. It has been a tremendous “labor of love” on Dave’s part to assemble and digitize such an extensive collection, and his gracious gift of these discs has brought much delight to this listener. Kelzenberg requests that any collector who knows of additional releases in the series contact him at the address printed above.

Trombones in Dido and Aeneas? Remembering Albert Fuller
The September 22, 2007 death of Albert Fuller brought back warm memories of several visits the fine American harpsichordist and educator made to Dallas. Perhaps the most memorable, amusing, and culinarily satisfying one occurred during the rehearsal period for the Dallas Opera’s production of Purcell's Dido and Aeneas in 1972. Although I had recently played harpsichord continuo for a Dido performance in Norfolk, the Opera in those days disdained local artists if they could import someone at great expense from Milan or New York. The management did, however, deign to rent my Dowd harpsichord since neither Opera nor Symphony owned such an “off-beat” instrument.
Albert had called me from New York to ask “why [the hell] they would bother to fly him such a distance when I was already there?” but I assured him that the discrimination was general, not personal, and that he should just enjoy the production (which turned out to be costumed in futuristic, space-age costumes), and charge them a high fee.
One evening Albert arrived at the Fair Park opera theatre to tune the harpsichord, but became alarmed when two trombonists entered the pit and began warming up. Perhaps, he thought, the scoring has been altered to match the costumes? But when a tuba player joined in he decided it was time to ask the musicians what was going on.
The brass players informed him that it was not Dido that was to be rehearsed that evening, but its companion work, Leoncavallo’s I Pagliacci (nearly as strange a coupling as the costumes and staging). Albert was quite incensed that the management had changed the rehearsal schedule without informing him, thus resulting in his flying (first class) from New York when he would not be needed.
I received a telephone call relating this sequence of events, concluding with “Well, I’m here, so before I fly back home let’s have dinner at the best restaurant in Dallas—and charge it to the Opera!”
I had dined only once previously at The Old Warsaw, then considered one of the finest culinary experiences available in the city, so that’s where we had our leisurely and memorable meal. I don’t know if this was a prime example of “turning annoyance into pleasure” or simply the best way to ignore a scheduling snafu, but it was certainly a civilized way to deal with the matter, and remembering it reminds of a happy conversation with a distinguished fellow musician. Ave Albert, et vale.■

Comments or news items for these pages are always welcome. Please address them to Dr. Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275; <[email protected]>.

On August 15, Sante Fe harpsichordist Virginia Mackie joins the very exclusive club of centenarian harpsichordists; indeed, the only other one known to me is retired Paris Conservatoire Professor Marcelle de Lacour, who turned one hundred on November 6, 1996, celebrating the event by playing a recital for the residents of her retirement home!

After earning her BA at Wellesley College (Phi Beta Kappa), Mrs. Mackie did her Master's work at Columbia University, and spent several summers in France studying with Nadia Boulanger. Her teaching career in music theory and performance took her to Kansas City Junior College (as head of the music department), Yale University, and to the University of Missouri at Kansas City (where she served as Haag Distinguished Professor of Music). When UMKC later conferred on her its first honorary doctorate given to a woman, in lieu of an acceptance speech Mrs. Mackie gave an acceptance harpsichord recital, as well as a series of master classes.

Following a stint at the University of Arizona, Mrs. Mackie moved to Sante Fe, where she has been designated a "Santa Fe Living Treasure." Here she continues to share her keen analytical skills and love of music with a small number of students. She is especially devoted to the music of Haydn, and, of course, to the masterworks of J.S. Bach, who, I am certain, is happy to share the kudos of his own high-profile year with such a distinguished colleague.

Thanks to Dr. Charles Mize for providing information used in this report.

Women, Men, and Harpsichords in Colorado

More than fifty registrants assembled in Boulder, Colorado, for the Midwestern Historical Keyboard Society's 16th annual meeting, May 18-20. Subtitled "A Conference in Early Music," program chair Theresa Bogard's agenda was much more than that, for it included Elaine Funaro's fascinating program of 20th-century harpsichord music by women (ranging from Wanda Landowska, 1951, through Sondra Clark, 1999), Susanne Skyrm's premiere of composer Sarah Dawson's new work for fortepiano, Dumuzi's Dream, and my own illustrated talk on Swiss patroness Antoinette Vischer's many avant garde harpsichord commissions. Denver resident Hal Haney, venerable editor of The Harpsichord, spoke about some of his experiences while interviewing major and minor figures of the harpsichord revival during the journal's years of publication, 1968-1976.

The conference theme was well served by two evening recitals: supremely communicative soprano Julianne Baird presented a concert of music from author Jane Austen's music collection, elegantly partnered by fortepianist Theresa Bogard, the program heightened by readings from Austen's novels presented by Baird's husband and the highly expressive Marion Paton. The closing concert, presented by Cecilia's Circle (Janet Youngdahl, soprano; Julie Andrijeski, baroque violin; Vivian Montgomery, harpsichord; and Julie Elhard, viola da gamba), consisted of a series of lovely excerpts from the music of Barbara Strozzi and Elizabeth Jacquet de la Guerre.

The conference opened with Elizabeth Farr playing all six of J.S. Bach's Trio Sonatas on her Keith Hill pedal harpsichord. Fleet fingered and footed, she dealt ably with a sticking pedal note, but as a program, this seemed to me rather like reading an encyclopedia; I lasted only through volumes A-L, the first three.

Novel scholarly presentations were given by Arthur Haas (suggesting that François Couperin's second Ordre for harpsichord might be a tribute to Elizabeth Jacquet de la Guerre); Catherine Gordon-Seifert (similarities between some melodic models in Louis Couperin's allemandes and those in the mid-17th-century French serious air); and Martha Novak Clinkscale (Women's Role in the Piano Business of the late 18th and early 19th centuries). Edward Kottick paid a sly tribute to John Barnes' tongue-in-cheek take on Italian harpsichords, in his paper "The ‘Specious Uniformity' of 18th-Century German Harpsichords."

Instruments by Thomas Bailey, Dana Ciul, Thomas Ciul, Douglas Maple, Peter O'Donnell, and Ted Robertson were demonstrated by Nanette Lunde and Max Yount, former presidents of MHKS. At the group's annual business meeting, Lilian Pruett, retiring editor of The Early Keyboard Journal (jointly published by SEHKS and MHKS) was honored for her twenty years of service; Carol Henry Bates was welcomed as the new editor.

Cool, sunny, and springlike, Boulder's weather was ideal, allowing inspiring views of snow-capped mountains. Social events, especially the evening receptions, provided good food and the all-important times to share talk with friends and colleagues.

Larry Palmer is harpsichord editor of THE DIAPASON.

A Harpsichord Christmas

Deck your music rack with a Christmas carol or two from A
Baroque Christmas—-Carols and
Counterpoint for Keyboard (traditional carols arranged for piano,
organ, or harpsichord by Edwin McLean),
published by FJH Music Company, 2525 Davie Rd., Suite 360, Fort Lauderdale, FL
33317-7424; e-mail

<[email protected]>.

Harpsichord-savvy composer McLean has provided interesting
and texturally-pleasing settings for eleven Yuletide favorites, among them a
rousing Adeste Fideles, a gently-moving Silent
Night (with pungent added-note final
chord), a theme and two variations on Good King Wenceslas
style='font-style:normal'>, a longer variation set for We Three Kings
style='font-style:normal'>, fugue on God Rest Ye Merry
style='font-style:normal'>, and a most attractive setting of Greensleeves
(What Child Is This?).

These settings are all playable on a single-manual
instrument, although McLean provides suggestions for more colorful
registrations for the organ, or when playing on a two-manual harpsichord. The
arrangements work well on piano, too.

FJH Music also publishes McLean’s two well-conceived and
attractive Sonatas for Harpsichord. Both
have been recorded by harpsichordist Elaine Funaro: the first is the opening
selection of Gasparo GSCD-331, Into the Millennium
style='font-style:normal'> (The Harpsichord in the 20th Century); the second
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> appears on Overture to Orpheus
style='font-style:normal'> (Music Written for the Women Who Gave Wing to the
Muse), Centaur CRC 2517. Either disc, or both, would make fine stocking
stuffers for discriminating musical friends.

Intended for Christmas Eve music making are various baroque
pieces titled “Pastoral,” a type of pictorial shepherd music (as in the Pastoral
Symphony from Handel’s Messiah
style='font-style:normal'>). One of these specifically intended for performance
by solo keyboardist is the Sonata (Pastorale) in C Major
style='font-style:normal'>, K. 513 by Domenico Scarlatti. Here we
find the traditional siciliano rhythm
suggesting sheep (baroque ones usually move in 12/8); a drone bass (molto
allegro) evoking “shepherds’ pipe” music;
and a concluding 3/8 presto that
could be either a representation of their joyful return “wondering at what they
had seen and heard,” or, possibly, some dramatic exit music for those angels
returning to the heights. This charming work may be found in any of the several
complete editions of Scarlatti’s keyboard sonatas, or, specifically, in volume
two of Sixty Sonatas, edited by Ralph Kirkpatrick, published by G. Schirmer.

Music for the New Year

Christoph Graupner (1683–1760) composed a keyboard
suite for each month of the year (Monatliche Clavir
style="mso-spacerun: yes">  Früchte, Darmstadt 1722). January, in the pristine key of C,
comprises a Praeludium and twelve
additional short dance movements; February (in G major), ten individual pieces;
and March (G minor), eight. These are now available in a handsome volume edited
(with no unfamiliar clefs) by Jörg Jacobi for Edition Baroque
(www.edition-baroque.de). The other three-quarters are expected to follow.

Another volume of great interest from Edition Baroque is
titled Labyrinthe,
comprising harmonically adventurous works for keyboard: Benedetto Marcello’s Laberinto
musicale sopra il Clavicembalo, Gottfried
Heinrich Stölzel’s Enharmonische Claviersonate
style='font-style:normal'>, and Georg Andreas Sorge’s Toccata per
omnem Circulum 24 modorum fürs Clavier.
Fasten your aural seatbelts and try the challenges hidden in these unusual
musical traversals.

Early Instruments: Some Random Citings

The New Yorker, June 13 & 20, 2005: from Edmund White’s personal
history My Women (Learning How to Love Them
style='font-style:normal'>): “The art-academy students across the street, who
were usually graduate students, had beards and long hair or, if they were
women, sandals and no makeup and unshaved legs hidden under peasant skirts.
They listened to records of Wanda Landowska playing Bach on the harpsichord
(God’s seamstress, as we called her) . . . [page 126].

The New Yorker, October 10, 2005: Jeffrey Eugenides’ eight-page short
story Early Music tells the sad
story of a clavichordist, replete with many composer references (only
noticeable error, a transposed “ei” in Scheidemann) and an evocative print by
Richard McGuire [pages 72–79].

Dieter Gutknecht presents a reasoned, musical example-filled
overview of conflicting styles in his major article “Performance practice of recitativo
secco in the first half of the 18th
century,” Early Music XXXIII/3 (August 2005), pp. 473–493.

Correspondent Robert Tifft reports:
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 

No lack of live harpsichord music in Budapest . . .

Since fall 2004 the Hungarian Radio has sponsored a cycle of
Bach’s solo harpsichord music with monthly recitals broadcast live from the
Radio’s Marble Hall. The recitals have occurred with even greater frequency
this fall, with performances by Zsolt Balog on September 26, Miklós Spányi on
October 10, Dalma Cseh on October 24 and Csilla Alfödy-Boruss on November 21.
Each concert features a different soloist, all of them Hungarian, all of them
one-time students at the Liszt Academy where János Sebestyén founded the
harpsichord class in 1970. Soloists last season were Anikó Horváth, Borbála
Dobozy, Ágnes Várallyay, Angelika Csizmadia, Ágnes Ratkó, Rita Papp, Péter
Ella, Szilvia Elek, Anikó Soltesz and Judit Péteri.

In celebration of her 25 years as a harpsichordist, Borbála
Dobozy performed a tour de force concert on October 13 as soloist in four
concertos. The program included Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5
style='font-style:normal'> (BWV 1050), C.P.E. Bach’s Concerto in G
minor (Wq. 6), Haydn’s Concerto
in F major (Hob. XVIII: 3) and Martinu’s Concerto
for Harpsichord and Small Orchestra. The
sold-out concert was broadcast live over the Hungarian Radio and Internet.
Together with Anikó Horváth, Dobozy established a Hungarian harpsichord
foundation, Clavicembalo Alapítvány, in 2004. The foundation’s goal is to
provide master classes and instruments of the highest quality for students of
the Liszt Academy and to promote appreciation of the harpsichord through
recitals and competitions. There is a website at
<www.clavicembalo.fw.hu&gt;.

Looking Ahead

Make plans to attend an early keyboard meeting: the Southeastern
Historical Keyboard Society meets March
9–11, 2006 at Shorter College, Rome, Georgia, with the dual purpose of celebrating
Mozart and honoring the first 25 years of the Society’s history. (More
information is available on their website <www.sehks.org&gt;).

The Midwestern Historical Keyboard Society
style='font-weight:normal'> will gather in Notre Dame, Indiana, June
15–18, 2006, presenting a program featuring the music of Diderik
Buxtehude. (Website: <www.mhks.org&gt;).

Send news items or comments about Harpsichord News to Dr.
Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX
75275;

<[email protected]>.