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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.

Related Content

Interpretive Suggestions for Modern Swedish Organ Works, Part 1

by Earl Holt
Default

Experimentation in a radical, theatrical style has
characterized much contemporary Swedish organ composition over the last twenty years, and Swedish organ composers have been prominent in the movement toward
secularization of the organ. 
Marilou Kratzenstein writes:

One should remember that Swedish churches no longer play
much of a role in the spiritual life of the people, but rather concentrate on
being a cultural force. Organ concerts are encouraged in the churches, which
are viewed primarily as concert halls. 
Major organ composers generally write little music for use in the church
service, but focus on concert works devoid of religious significance.1

A number of modern Swedish composers have found the organ's
array of tonal colors and wide dynamic range particularly useful for the
expression of musical thought in a modern idiom. As a result of the Orgelbewegung (Organ Reform Movement), the resurgence of interest in instruments with mechanical action has offered the possibility for greater expressive control and a greater range of performance techniques than were previously available on instruments with some form of remote  action.

Swedish composer and organ virtuoso Hans-Ola Ericsson wrote
recently of modern composition:

The tendency is the same everywhere, in Sweden, too: it
seems that the 1980s mark the beginning of a new musical era. The composers are
striving for objectivity, diversity, and structural density or airiness. A new
æsthetic is growing up, far from the experimenting expressionism of the
1970s.2

If young Swedish composers now find themselves to be
innovators, they have come to the forefront of avant-garde composition as a
result of influential forebears, including Bengt Hambræus, one of the
first organists to introduce avant-garde techniques. Douglas Reed writes:

Following Hambræus' lead, a school of Swedish
contemporary organ music sprang up; it includes Arne Mellnäs (b. 1933: Fixations, 1967), Jan W. Morthenson (b. 1940: New Organ Music, 1961-73), and Bo Nilsson (b. 1937: Stenogramm, 1959).3

These Swedish composers and their contemporaries studied or
collaborated with György Ligeti, who began regular visits to the Stockholm
Academy of Music in 1961 to teach composition as a visiting professor.4 Under
Ligeti's tutelage, they pioneered new techniques in their organ compositions,
including virtuoso clusters, stop-knob manipulation, and switching the blower
on and off to produce a gradual sound decay. They have taken advantage of the
increased availability of tracker actions and have experimented with bending
pitch by playing or releasing the keys very slowly, sometimes assisted by
rubber mats placed under the keys. The works are clearly unintended for
liturgical use:

The new organ music of Ligeti and the Swedes is firmly
secular, having few if any religious connotations. It continues, perhaps
completes, the process of secularization started by Franck and Liszt in the
nineteenth century.5

Hambræus wrote recently about his intense
collaboration with Ligeti in the early 1960s:

When [Mauricio] Kagel, Ligeti, and I got a commission each
for an organ work to be performed in Radio Bremen in 1962, we decided between
us to apply different notations to achieve similar results; Ligeti selected the
"graphical" method, partly developed from what he had learnt from my Constellations (Ligeti worked in Stockholm at that time, and we knew each other very well!). His Volumina looks different than my Interferences, or Kagel's Improvisation Ajoutee.6

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

Befria mig ur friheten! All denna frihet! by Sven-David Sandström

Background

Sven-David Sandström, born in Borensberg, Sweden in
1942, studied composition with Ingvar Lidholm at the State College of Music in
Stockholm, where he was Lidholm's teaching assistant until 1974. Sandström
also studied composition with György Ligeti and Per Nørgård,
and has worked since 1974 as a composer. Since 1981 he has taught composition
and improvisation at the State College of Music in Stockholm, where he was
appointed professor of composition in 1986.7 He has also been an administrator
in the Society of Swedish Composers since 1979, and was chairman of the Swedish
section of the International Society for Contemporary Music (ISCM) in 1983. He
received the Christ Johnson Prize in 1974 and the Nordic Council Prize in
1984.8

Sandström's works are primarily for orchestra or
chamber ensemble, although he has also composed solo instrumental and choral
works, including several operas. His music often involves serial and
post-serial techniques, microtones, and aleatoric procedures.9

The work selected for this article, Befria mig ur
friheten! All denna frihet!
(Liberate me
from freedom! All this freedom!), is the second movement of a three-movement,
large-scale organ work,
Libera me.10 Befria mig can be performed successfully as an independent work, however. The title comes from the Tobias Berggren text, "replete with sadistic obscenities and pornographic proclamations," to Sandström's Requiem: De ur alla minnen fallna (Mute the Bereaved Memories Speak), which Sandström composed at the same time as Libera me.11 The Requiem is "a graphic and expressionistic tonal painting, an indictment of the Nazi murders of children during the Second World War."12 Besides Libera me, Sandström has composed two other solo organ works: The Way (1973) and Openings (1975).13

Befria mig was
composed in January 1981 and dedicated to organist Hans-Ola Ericsson; the
premiere took place in Zurich at Grossmünster on December 25, 1981.14 The
score, published in 1984, is a legible photocopy of the original manuscript.

Structure

In Biographies of Modern Swedish Composers
style='font-style:normal'>, Hans-Gunnar Peterson writes about the philosophy
and design of Sandström's compositions:

Desperation--security: these opposite relationships dominate
his thoughts on composition and make his works unusually existentially
orientated [sic]. The fact that music has the power to bring about great mental
changes or to create inner peace interests Sandström. Formally, his music
is concentrated, often with complicated schemes as bases of his works.15

Although Befria mig
has highly concentrated notation, the piece has a simple scheme as its basis: an
extended crescendo. Little by little, the texture thickens, the dynamic
increases, the tempo broadens, the range widens, and the key modulates from G
minor to C minor. Ericsson describes the evolution in brochure notes to the
recording:

The course of events is simple: a slow, almost unendurable
culmination, which alternates the whole time between major and minor, and which
does not reach its goal until the ecstatic C-minor chord of the final bar. The
movement--in 10 parts [voices]--is unbelievably complex in its inner
structure.16

The dense texture restricts the melodic movement of
individual voices, so chromatic or stepwise movement predominates. The
intricate writing suggests choral polyphony, and the stylistic influence is
unquestionably Ligeti.

Befria mig, composed
in 4/4 meter solely as a structural convenience, has five continuous sections,
or stages, that are delineated by tempo changes. Although the texture varies
within each section, it is usually ten voices. The incremental changes in
texture, dynamic, and range take place gradually from beginning to end, but the
tempo changes occur in terraces--not as a gradual ritardando. Table 1 is a
structural outline of the piece.

Registration

The manual changes and couplers in the Libera me
style='font-style:normal'> score are marked for a four-manual instrument;
indeed, a performer playing the entire work does need a large instrument for
the intended effect. As a single movement, however,
Befria mig can be performed on any instrument with sufficient dynamic range and enough stops for the gradual crescendo, since the piece is played entirely on one manual, the Hauptwerk.

The manual compass of the piece is F-sharp to g''' and the
pedal compass is C to a-flat'. The pitch a-flat' is unlikely to exist on any
pedal clavier, and probably results from Sandström--who is not an
organist--forgetting the pedal range of the instrument. Fortunately, it occurs
only once (m. 55, in eleven-voice ffff texture), and can be omitted
inconsequentially. In addition, the pedal pitch g', which also occurs only in
m. 55, might also have to be omitted to accommodate a 30-key pedal clavier. An
alternate solution is to have a console assistant play one or both notes on the
Hauptwerk.

The long crescendo, a six-minute, fifty-seven measure
crescendo from ppp to fffff, is created mainly by incremental stop additions,
which can be made by a console assistant, by an adjustable combination action,
or by using the crescendo pedal. The stop additions occur nine times, and are
marked "reg. cresc." (register crescendo) in the score.17 Two
"reg. cresc." markings also coincide with tempo changes (mm. 24 and
48) for heightened dramatic effect. If a crescendo pedal is used for the stop
additions, additional stops and couplers can still be added by thumb pistons or
a console assistant. The score does not indicate expression pedal usage,
although it is effective to open available expression pedals gradually
throughout the piece. 

Sandström marks dynamics in the score, as illustrated
in Table 1, but individual stops or timbres are unspecified. Therefore,
registration for the piece, within the dynamic bounds indicated, is left to the
discretion of the performer. Pedal coupler additions are marked at four points
in the score:

                  Measure
style='mso-tab-count:1'>              
Coupler

                  24
style='mso-tab-count:1'>           
Sw./Ped.

                  36
style='mso-tab-count:1'>           
Bw./Ped.

                  48
style='mso-tab-count:1'>           
Rp./Ped.

                  57
style='mso-tab-count:1'>           
Hw./Ped.

These coupler additions signal a louder pedal, whether
accomplished by the specific couplers (if available) or by the addition of
pedal stops.

The registration in the score has all secondary manuals
coupled to the Hauptwerk from the beginning of the piece, so that stop
additions from any division affect timbre and dynamic immediately. This
arrangement works well on a large, orchestrally conceived instrument, but might
be disadvantageous on a smaller instrument. On a two-manual instrument, for example, it might be better to begin the piece on the Hauptwerk alone, and then to couple the other manual to the Hauptwerk later, as part of the crescendo.
Another possibility is to begin the piece on a secondary manual and move to the
Hauptwerk later. Three rests in mm. 14, 27, and 43, respectively, provide
opportunities for the hands to change manuals. The last practicable opportunity
to move to the Hauptwerk is at m. 48, beat 4, where both hands must shift down
almost an octave; the hands can easily change manuals in the process. Whether
or not a console assistant is necessary for stop additions, an assistant must
play three chords in mm. 56-57.

Interpretation

Relentless tension characterizes Sandström's works, as
described in Musical Life in Sweden:
"In the case of Sven-David Sandström, it would be no exaggeration to
speak of an incessant struggle between constructive and destructive powers,
with constant reminders of the existence of other worlds."18

The Befria mig score
gives no performance directions or interpretive suggestions, perhaps because
the challenge of the piece is largely technical, not interpretive. It is a
major technical obstacle to play four contrapuntal voices per hand--and two to
four pedal voices--for nearly six minutes, while creating an aural effect of
continuously weaving lines. Despite the dense textures that tend to lock the
wrists in position, it is necessary to keep the wrists flexible and relaxed.
Light articulation will help to combat a tendency to become mired in a
continuous, overlapping legato. Moreover, a live acoustic is a virtual
necessity.

The steadily increasing tension inherent in the piece
exacerbates the tendency toward tension in the wrists. Frequent finger
substitution is neither advisable nor practical in this texture. The pedal
texture is from two to four voices; pedal articulation is legato, whenever
possible.

Complex rhythmic units include supertriplets and
superquintuplets, played in various cross-rhythms between the manual and pedal
voices. To keep the tempo steady, the performer must maintain a strong internal
beat. As noted in Table 1, subito decreases in tempo occur four times in the
work. A metronome is helpful in learning to judge the relative tempos.

Curiously, the word "Affettuoso" is placed over m.
39, although it is unclear how a tender mood can be produced in ten-voice
texture at ff dynamic. The piece ends in m. 57 with "General tutti sempre
al fine." A sforzando mechanism, if available, can be engaged on the long
C-minor chord that ends the work. A sixteen-note cluster (m. 57, beat 4)
effectively serves to disintegrate the C-minor chord (and symbolically,
perhaps, to liberate the listener from tonality), but the cluster is omitted in
the only commercial recording of the piece that was found, a compact disc
recording by Ericsson at Katarina Church in Stockholm on February 24, 1986.19

Performance time for Befria mig
style='font-style:normal'> is seven minutes and thirty-two seconds on the
recording, but Ericsson's performance tempo is quite broad in comparison with
the performance time of five minutes and forty-five seconds listed by
Sandström in the score. Sandström's time agrees exactly with the
tempos marked in the score, but a broader tempo might be appropriate in a live
acoustical setting. Performance time for all three movements of the
fifty-three-page
Libera me is
twenty-three minutes.

Champs by Bengt Hambræus

Background

Born in Stockholm in 1928, Bengt Hambræus first
studied organ performance with Alf Linder and later with Swedish musicologist Carl-Allan Mo-berg at Uppsala University. Hambræus completed his dissertation in medieval studies at Uppsala, and then taught there from 1947 to 1956. After joining the music department of Swedish Radio in 1957, he became director of the chamber music section in 1965 and its production manager in 1968.

Some of Hambræus's early compositions paralleling the
work of György Ligeti first earned major recognition in the 1960s. Known
as a musicologist specializing in medieval and baroque studies, Hambræus
has composed for stage, orchestra, chorus, solo voice, various ensembles, and
organ, and was the first Swedish composer to work in the field of electronic
music. As a result of work at electronic studios in Cologne and Milan, he has
also produced a number of works on magnetic tape. He has been a member of the
Royal Swedish Academy of Music since 1968. In 1972 he left Sweden to become a
professor of composition at McGill University in Montreal, where he has
remained to the present.20

Hambræus's organ works are Toccata och Fuga
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1946),
Chorale Partita: In
Dich hab' ich gehoffet, Herr
for organ solo
(1946-48),
Fantasia for organ
solo (1947),
Chorale Partita: Puer natus in Bethlehem
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1947),
Concerto for organ
and harpsichord
(1947-51), Concerto for Organ and String Orchestra (1948), Koralförspel
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1948),
Orgeltrio
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1948),
Toccata pro tempore
pentecostes
for organ solo (1948), Introitus et Triptychon for organ solo (1949-50), Musik för Orgel for organ solo (1950), Liturgia
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1951-52),
Permutations and
Hymn: Nocte surgentes
for organ solo (1953),
Psalmus CXXI
for soprano and organ (1953), Psalmus
CXXII
for soprano and organ (1953), Konstellationer
I
for organ solo (1958), Konstellationer
I
I for organ and tape (1959), Konstellationer
III
for organ and tape (1961), Interferenser
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1961-62),
Tre Pezzi
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1966-67),
Nebulosa
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1969),
Toccata: Monumentum
per Max Reger
for organ solo (1973), Ricercare
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1974
), Continuo a partire
de Pachelbel
for organ and orchestra
(1974-75),
Icons for organ solo
(1974-75),
Extempore for organ
solo (1975),
Advent: Veni redemptor gentium
style='font-style:normal'> for organ, brass, and percussion (1975),
Antiphonie
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1977),
Konstellationer IV
style='font-style:normal'> for organ and percussion (1978),
Livre
d'orgue
for organ solo (1980-81), Voluntary
on a Swedish Hymn Tune from Dalecarlia
for
organ solo (1981),
Sheng for oboe
and organ (1983),
Variations sur un thème de Gilles Vigneault
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1984),
La Passacaille
errante-autour Haendel
for organ solo
(1985),
Pedalexercitium for organ
solo (1985),
Canvas with Mirrors
for organ and tape (1987-90),
Après-Sheng
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1988),
Cadenza
style='font-style:normal'> for organ solo (1988),
Missa pro Organo:
In memoriam Olivier Messiaen
for organ solo
(1992),
Organum Sancti Jacobi for
organ solo (1993), and
Meteoros
for organ solo (1993). A Ph.D. dissertation by musicologist Per F. Broman at
Göteborg University, Sweden, is currently being prepared in consultation
with Hambræus; it contains a comprehensive list of Hambræus's
works, and a complete discography.21

The work selected for this article, Champs
style='font-style:normal'> (Fields), is the ninth movement in Volume I of
Livre d'orgue, published in 1981. A foreword to the score describes the movement as a piece in which "the performer is exposed to one kind of cluster notation which has been rather common in contemporary organ music after 1960."22 Livre d'orgue exemplifies Hambræus's well-known preoccupation with timbre to a greater degree, perhaps, than any of his other works. Modeled after the livres d'orgue of the Classical French period, whose movements were often named for the organ colors specified, the Hambræus work adheres to Classical French tradition in retaining the integrity of typical classical registration, which he indicates clearly in the score, and in requiring no dynamic changes by means of the expression pedals.

Livre d'orgue uses a contemporary harmonic idiom, however.
The work comprises four separate volumes containing twelve pieces each, and is
graded from the easier pieces of Volume I to the more difficult in Volume IV.
Even though Hambræus describes Volume I as "easier," its pieces
nevertheless require advanced technique. The preface to Livre d'orgue states that although each volume can be considered a complete suite, it is unnecessary to play all the pieces from the volume, and it is permissible to mix pieces from one volume with those from other volumes.23 This practice of selecting pieces is consistent with common practice in the Classical French tradition.

Hambræus composed Livre d'orgue
style='font-style:normal'> for the installation of the Hellmuth Wolff organ in
Redpath Hall at McGill University, Montreal, in 1981. On May 26, 1981, John
Grew played three pieces from
Livre d'orgue
style='font-style:normal'> at the Montreal Symposium, a three-day series of
recitals and panel discussions on historical organ construction held to
inaugurate the new instrument; however, Hambræus does not recall whether
Champs was performed. He writes that he has heard the work performed only
once--in Redpath Hall on a 1982 or 1983 exam recital by Josée April, a
student of Grew.24
Livre d'orgue
is dedicated to Hambræus's son Michael, who first conceived of the
project, and to McGill University, which made it possible.25

Structure

Champs is a moderately
difficult study in cluster technique, the most challenging technical aspect of
the piece. Hambræus writes that the piece is related to other pieces from
Livre d'orgue:

There are internal relations between corresponding pieces in
the respective volumes [of Livre d'orgue]; somebody who has played the more easy items in volume I has got acquainted with my music language (harmony, texture, momentum, density, etc.) and can easily understand how basic ideas develop; compare, for instance, the first movements in volumes I and IV! Regarding Champs--"Fields"--it is a link between other pieces in Livre d'orgue: what is in other movements notated with pitches in dense clusters has just been notated differently here.26

As shown in Table 2, registration changes punctuate major
sections of the piece, illustrating Hambræus's characteristic use of
timbre as a compositional element. Champs
is formally constructed from two double periods and a four-measure ending. In
the first double period, the Grand Orgue and Positif bourdons are set in
contrast to each other. In the second, parallel stops on each manual are added
to the bourdons at major structural posts. In the final measure, however, the
sound is reduced by removing the two stops added last, thus serving to taper the
crescendo shape of the piece.

Registration

Hambræus composed Livre d'orgue
style='font-style:normal'> with a specific instrument in mind: the Hellmuth
Wolff organ in Redpath Hall at McGill University. Completed in spring, 1981,
the large tracker instrument was built "in accordance with the detailed
descriptions in Dom Bédos de Celles's important treatise
L'art
du facteur d'or
gues (1766-78)."27 The
inside back cover of each volume of
Livre d'orgue
style='font-style:normal'> has the complete stop list for the instrument.

Since Champs is a manualiter piece for Grand Orgue and
Positif, pedals are not used. As illustrated in Table 2, the two manuals
maintain dynamic balance by the simultaneous addition or removal of stops from
both divisions at major structural posts. The specific registration for the
Wolff instrument, listed in the score, is helpful in selecting stops of the
same pitch and timbre on a different instrument. The following stops are
specified in the score:

Grand Orgue

                  8'
style='mso-tab-count:1'>            
Bourdon

                  22/3'
style='mso-tab-count:1'>     
Nazard

                                    Cymbale
III

                                    Fourniture
IV-III

                  2'
style='mso-tab-count:1'>            
Doublette

Positif

                  8'
style='mso-tab-count:1'>            
Bourdon

                  22/3'
style='mso-tab-count:1'>     
Nazard

                                    Cymbale
II

                                    Fourniture
III

                  2'
style='mso-tab-count:1'>            
Quarte
de Nazard

All stop changes occur at rests, so it is possible for the
performer to add or remove the stops without assistance. Expression pedals are
not used.

Interpretation

The main challenge of Champs is the interpretation and performance of graphically notated
pentatonic, diatonic, and chromatic clusters, as well as cluster glissandos.
Some pentatonic or diatonic clusters also develop into chromatic ones.
Hambræus defines pentatonic clusters as black-key clusters and diatonic
clusters as white-key ones; chromatic clusters involve both black and white
keys.

Hambræus notates each pentatonic and diatonic cluster
as a geometric figure that outlines the cluster's position on the staff. The
geometric figure encloses either the letter P, for pentatonic clusters, or the
letter D, for diatonic ones. If there is insufficient room for the letters to
be placed inside narrow clusters, the letters are placed directly above. Both
chromatic clusters and chromatic cluster glissandos are notated as filled-in
geometric shapes. Small notes at the beginning of each cluster indicate its
precise span.

The pentatonic black-key clusters found in Champs
style='font-style:normal'> are played either with the fingers or with the top
of the palm and the fingers, if the fingers alone cannot span the cluster. In
either situation, it is easier to play such clusters with the fingers held at a
right angle, instead of parallel, to the keys. Diatonic white-key clusters can
either be played by the fingers or with the thumb placed at a right angle to
the keys. When a diatonic cluster expands to a chromatic cluster, the length of
the thumb and the inside base of the palm are used to play the white keys,
while the fingers are held above the black keys for the expansion, as
illustrated for the left hand in mm. 8-9. The process is immediately repeated
in a mirror-image inversion for the right hand in mm. 10-11.

Hambræus indicates the correct realization of his
cluster notation in a footnote, but provides no physical description of the
techniques needed, except to write that "in order to execute cluster
glissandos, the performer must use all of the hand in different positions, in
addition to the fingers!"28 Two distinct kinds of chromatic cluster glissando occur in Champs: an hourglass-shaped cluster glissando in mm. 25-26, and common cluster glissandos that span a
specific interval (mm. 26-28, for example). Both kinds of glissando begin on a
C-sharp to G tritone and end on a G to c-sharp tritone.

The left hand plays the hourglass-shaped cluster glissando
in mm. 25-26. It is begun with the back of the fingers sustaining all possible
keys within the C-sharp to G tritone; the palm is facing up, at this point. The
thumb-side of the hand is then gradually raised until the hand is perpendicular
to the keys, with the back edge of the hand (little finger) resting on G and on
surrounding notes. Finally, the palm is gradually lowered onto all possible
keys within the G to c-sharp tritone.

The common cluster glissandos in mm. 26-28 occur in both
hands simultaneously. They are played entirely with the palms down. The middle
finger pivots on the pitch G as the fingers and part of the hand to the left of
the middle finger play all possible keys within the C-sharp to G tritone. Then,
as the wrist moves gradually from left to right, the fingers and part of the
hand to the right of the middle finger gradually play all possible keys within
the G to C-sharp tritone. It is helpful to flatten out the hand and to place
the middle, pivot finger near the back of the G key--between F-sharp and
G-sharp, if possible. This procedure allows all of the hand to be used
effectively, and achieves a consistent texture throughout the glissando.

The tempo (quarter note = 56) is maintained by carefully
counting beats throughout the piece. Constant, internal counting is the
performer's only rhythmic guideline, since clusters begin and end at irregular
intervals, and structural posts rarely occur on a discernible beat.

Volume III of Livre d'orgue was recorded by John Grew (McGill University Records, LP 85024, now
out of print), and volume IV by Hans Hellsten (MAP CD 9236, currently
available). Two pieces from volume IV, Ouverture and Récit de Nazard,
were recorded by Erik Lundkvist (MAP CD 9026). Marilou Kratzenstein recorded
selections from volume I (WMC LP 4593) approximately twelve years ago, but the
record was not located; it is therefore unknown whether Champs was on the
album.29  Performance time for
Champs is two minutes and thirty-five seconds.    n

Notes

                  1.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Marilou
Kratzenstein, Survey of Organ Literature and Editions (Ames, Iowa: Iowa State
University Press, 1980), 147.

                  2.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Hans-Ola
Ericsson, brochure notes for Organo con Forza, Phono Suecia PS CD 31, 2.

                  3.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Robert
Douglas Reed, "The Organ Works of William Albright: 1965-1975"
(D.M.A. diss., The University of Rochester, Eastman School of Music, 1977), 21.

                  4.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Paul
Griffiths, György Ligeti, ed. Nicholas Snowman (London: Robson Books,
1983), 39.

                  5.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Reed,
22.

                  6.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Hambræus,
Letter to this writer, November 23, 1993.

                  7.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Ericsson, 9-10.

                  8.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Hans-Gunnar
Peterson, Swedish Composers of the 20th Century: Members of the Society of
Swedish Composers (Stockholm: Svensk Musik, 1988), s.v. "Sandström,
Sven-David," by Hans-Gunnar Peterson.

                  9.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>             
Stanley
Sadie, ed., The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (London: Macmillan
and Co., 1980), s.v. "Sandström, Sven-David."

                  10.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Sven-David
Sandström, Libera me (Munich: Edition Modern, 1977), 12-15.

                  11.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Nicolas
Slonimsky, ed., Baker's Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, 8th ed. (New
York: Schirmer Books, 1992), s.v. "Sandström, Sven-David;"
Ericsson, 10.

                  12.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Lena Roth, ed., Musical Life in Sweden, trans. Michael Johns (Stockholm: Norstedts Tryckeri AB, 1987), 55.

                  13.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Sadie; Slonimsky.

                  14.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Ericsson, 10.

                  15.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Peterson.

                  16.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Ericsson, 10.

                  17.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Register crescendo is the German Rollschweller, a type of crescendo pedal.

                  18.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Roth, 55.

                  19.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Ericsson, Organo con Forza recording.

                  20.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Sadie, s.v. "Hambræus, Bengt."

                  21.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Brian Morton and Pamela Collins, eds., Contemporary Composers (Chicago: St. James Press, 1992), s.v. "Hambræus, Bengt;" Per F. Broman,
"Bengt Hambræus: Work List and Discography," (supplied by
Hambræus from Ph.D. diss. in progress, Göteborg University, Sweden).

                  22.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Hambræus, Livre d'orgue, vol. 1, preface, 3.

                  23.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Ibid., 4.

                  24.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Hambræus, Letter to this writer, November 23, 1993.

                  25.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Peter
Williams, "The Organ in Our Time: Montreal Symposium," The American
Organist 15, no. 9 (September 1981): 58; Hambræus, Livre d'orgue, vol. 1,
title page.

                  26.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Hambræus, Letter to this writer, November 23, 1993.

                  27.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Hambræus, Livre d'orgue, vol. 1, preface, 2.

                  28.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Ibid., 8.

                  29.
style='mso-tab-count:1'>          
Hambræus, Letter to this writer, November 23, 1993.

This article will be continued.

Interpretive Suggestions for Four American Organ Works, Part 1

by Earl Holt
Default

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 Swedish Organ Works, Part 2

by Earl Holt
Default

Part 1 was published in the January, 1996 issue of The Diapason.

es ist genug... by Sten Hanson
Background

Sten Hanson, born in 1936 in Klövsjö, Sweden, has been chairman of the Society of Swedish Composers since 1984. Although self-taught as a composer, he has been chairman of the Fylkingen language group, and an executive committee member of the International Society for Contemporary Music (ISCM), and Electronic Music Studio (EMS). For the last thirty years he has worked in experimental music, literature, and art, producing instrumental, vocal, and electro-acoustic music for radio and television performances. The premiere of Hanson's Wiener-Lieder for soprano, piano, and recorded tape, took place at the 1987 Swedish Music Spring Festival. Hanson tours internationally as a lecturer and artist.30

Music journalist Göran Bergendal writes that "the initial point of departure for Sten Hanson's art is literature--with underlying associations with popular and oral traditions of poetry."31 Hanson has treated historical and political subjects in his compositions, and even used the science fiction of Edgar Rice Burroughs in a 1982 work, The John Carter Song Book.

Hanson has composed two organ works: Extrasensory Conceptions III for organ solo (1964) and es ist genug... for organ solo (1985), the work selected for this article.32 Extrasensory Conceptions III, however, was written for the late organ virtuoso Karl-Erik Welin, who was recognized for creativity in graphic score interpretation. Hanson writes that the work is "so closely related to this now deceased performer that it hardly can be used again." Hanson is currently composing a new work for organ and tape, "with the loudspeaker placed in the opposite side of the room in relation to the organ," for well-known Swedish organ virtuoso Hans-Ola Ericsson.33

Swedish National Radio produced a live broadcast of the premiere of es ist genug... (it is enough...) on February 8, 1986, as performed by Ericsson at the Jacob's Church in Stockholm. The piece, which is dedicated to Ericsson, has received approximately 150 European performances and has been broadcast in several countries, according to the composer. It was published in 1988, al-though the score lists no publication date. The title of the piece is correctly written in lower-case letters and is followed by three ellipsis points.34

Although es ist genug... is based on J.S. Bach's setting of the Lutheran chorale, the piece is not the expected chorale prelude, intended for a church service. Moreover, Hanson has always expressed extreme criticism of the Church and its tenets. Ericsson writes: "In this scherzandolike piece he [Hanson] drives his own criticism in absurdum, and the end gesture, a great cluster in diminuendo which concludes in major/minor tonality, says 'Enough of that now!'"35 es ist genug... is therefore Hanson's commentary by double entendre on religious dogma, and is not a church work based on the chorale text.

Structure

As a musical allusion to the four-syllable title of es ist genug..., the primary motivic material is taken from three four-pitch fragments of the chorale melody: (1) A, B, C-sharp, D-sharp--the distinctive, ascending whole-tone phrase that begins the chorale; (2) C-sharp, B, D, C-sharp--taken from the penultimate phrase of the chorale; and (3) E, C-sharp, B, A--the descending final notes of the chorale. The three fragments are treated individually in sections linked by clusters or extended rests. As pointed out by Ericsson, the rapid repetition in absurdum of the motivic fragments is the predominant compositional technique used in the piece. Table 3 shows the structural organization of es ist genug... .

es ist genug... is primarily a tonal piece, since it is based on the original Bach harmonization of the chorale in the key of A major. Non-tonal elements do occur, however: (1) dissonant harmonizations of the chorale in mm. 14, 20-21, and 50-56; (2) clusters, which serve to accompany the figuration in mm. 57-64, and to punctuate areas of rapidly repeated motives throughout the piece; and (3) the graphic notation and A-major/minor chord at the end of the piece (m. 71).

Registration

A three-manual instrument is necessary to perform the piece, since extended sections of rapid changes are divided among three different manuals. It is not feasible to make quick registration changes on a two-manual instrument, even with the help of a console assistant. Also, since these changes contribute greatly to timbral variety, and occur at irregular intervals, it is unacceptable merely to alternate between two manuals.

Dynamic changes in the piece require significant use of the Swell expression pedal, although stop changes can be made by an assistant if the instrument has no expressive divisions. The piece requires 56-key manuals and a 29-key pedal clavier, and thus can be performed on instruments with short upper octaves or limited pedal ranges.

Registration is outlined in the score. Table 4 lists the individual registrations specifically indicated for each manual.

Interpretation

As outlined in Table 3, note values of the motivic figuration decrease steadily throughout the piece, from eighth notes to sixteenth notes to thirty-second notes. Therefore, the beginning tempo must be slow enough to accommodate both the accelerando in mm. 51-56 and the thirty-second notes in the final pages. No tempo is printed in the score. The tempos in Ericsson's compact disc recording are useful as a guideline, however: the initial quarter note tempo of 44 has increased to 68 by the end of the accelerando in mm. 51-56.

With the exception of the final arm cluster in m. 71, all manual clusters are played as chromatic palm clusters, performed by playing as many black and white keys as possible within the range outlined. Each palm cluster is held the length of a quarter note, unless tied to another cluster. Tied clusters occur in mm. 47, 49, and 65; they follow the customary rules for tied notes.

Although the left hand can sustain both black and white keys in the long palm cluster in mm. 57-64, the feet will be able to cover only the white pedal keys in the accompanying pedal cluster. A console assistant, if available, can play the lower part of the pedal cluster and the left-hand palm cluster on the Swell manual. This assistance makes it possible for the performer to position one hand on each manual for the quick changes. It will also enable the performer to close the Swell expression pedal with the right foot. If the pedal dynamic has to be reduced to balance the manuals, the assistant can remove stops. As the cluster sound diminishes, the manual figuration emerges gradually from the cacophony.

During each section of rapid motive repetition, a form of staccato articulation is printed in the score: (1) stacc., mm. 24-34; (2) molto stacc., mm. 36-46; and (3) staccatissimo, mm. 50-64. The increasingly detached articulation maintains clarity as the note values decrease throughout the piece.

Almost all dynamic changes in the piece are accomplished by stop changes. Nevertheless, the Swell expression pedal is used in mm. 14-15, 21, 51-64, 67-69, and 71. These dynamic changes made with the Swell pedal are structural and must not be arbitrarily omitted if the instrument has no expressive divisions. A console assistant can make the changes by gradually adding or removing stops.

The first recording of es ist genug... was a compact disc recording by Ericsson on January 19, 1986, three weeks before the premiere, at the Jacob's Church in Stockholm. In 1989, a Russian organist, Alexander Fiseisky, made another recording on the Melodya label. Hanson writes: "I have heard his [Fiseisky's] version in a concert in the chapel of the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, but I have never received a copy of the record, not even before the present Russian chaos."36

On the Ericsson recording, the final ffff cluster (m. 71) takes sixty seconds for the resolution to the A major/minor chord and for the diminuendo to ppp. The cluster is struck initially with both arms, reduced gradually to palm clusters, and then resolved poco a poco to the final A-major/minor chord. For the diminuendo, the expression pedal is gradually closed, or stops are removed by an assistant.

The Ericsson recording, made from a preliminary version of the score, differs somewhat from the 1988 published score, as shown in Table 5.

In mm. 1-12 and 16-19, Ericsson plays five repeated notes per measure, instead of six, taking advantage of the vast tonal resources of the five-manual instrument in the Jacob's Church in Stockholm. He plays each of the five notes on a separate manual, using five different timbres in the process.

Ericsson's omission of m. 9 is logical, since the measure appears to be an erroneously printed duplicate of the preceding two measures. Because the pitch b' occurs twice at this point in the original chorale melody, only two corresponding measures are correct in the score, and not three. Measure 9 is therefore included in the list of errors in Table 6.

In a recent letter, Hanson explained the difference between Ericsson's recorded version and the 1988 score:

After this [Ericsson's] first performance I was a little unhappy with the beginning of the piece, where the desired quality of "boredom" does not come out properly. I have later corrected that by adding a sixth note in each of the bars where a single note is played, as well as by rejecting the performers' frequent jumps from one registration to another in the beginning of the piece. Ericsson's recording follows correctly the first version of the score and the changes in the score vis-a-vis the record[ing] are the results of the later revision. The recording was made in connection with the first performance without my presence or assistance, [otherwise] I would have asked the performer to wait for my revised score.37

The 1988 published score, not the recorded version, is therefore definitive. The score has a number of errors, however. (See Table 6.) Hanson has reviewed the errata and writes that they are identical to the errors he has found. A forthcoming reprint of the score will have the necessary corrections.

The performance time on Ericsson's compact disc recording is five minutes and nineteen seconds. As indicated in Table 5, however, the early version of the score used for the recording omits mm. 27-34 and 38-46, thus shortening its length. If the 1988 printed version is performed in its entirety, therefore, the piece will be approximately forty-five seconds longer, or six minutes and four seconds.

Gesänge der Toten by Hans-Ola Ericsson
Background

Hans-Ola Ericsson was born in 1958 in Stockholm where, as a child, he sang in the Stockholm Boys' Choir. His first counterpoint, composition, and organ performance teacher was innovative Swedish composer Torsten Nilsson (b. 1920), to whom Gesänge der Toten is dedicated. Ericsson's first public organ recitals began in 1974, the same year his first organ compositions were written. In 1977 he was admitted to the State Academy of Music in Freiburg, Germany, where he studied composition with Klaus Huber and Brian Ferneyhough, and organ with Zsigmond Szathmáry. Further composition study was with Luigi Nono in Venice in 1984.38

Ericsson has performed at many European festivals, and on French, Japanese, and American radio. Since 1986 Ericsson has been principal instructor of organ performance at Piteå College in Piteå, Sweden. At present, he also teaches solo organ performance and courses in interpretation of modern organ music at the State Colleges of Music in Stockholm, Malmö, and Göteborg. As a virtuoso organist, he is well-known from tours of Europe and the United States, and from recordings for radio and compact disc. He has recently recorded the complete works of Olivier Messiaen on seven compact discs for the BIS label.39

Ericsson's works for organ are Gesänge der Toten for organ and percussion (1977), J'Ecris Ton Nom for organ, percussion and electronic tape, Niemandsland for organ and electronic tape, Orgelsymphonie in tre Satzer for organ solo (1975-76), Via Dolorosa for organ solo, and Melody to the Memory of a Lost Friend XIII for organ and electronic tape (1985).40

The work selected for this article, Gesänge der Toten (Songs of the Dead), was composed in January 1977 and published the same year. The score is a legible photocopy of the manuscript.

Structure

Gesänge der Toten is based on a chorale of unknown origin that occurs monophonically (mm. 10-16), as a jazz variation (mm. 23-40), as the pedal line during the climax (m. 51), and in a four-voice harmonization (mm. 53-62). The chorale is present sporadically; thematically unrelated sections of arpeggios, improvisation, and graphically notated clusters constitute most of the piece. Meter is either 3/4 or 4/4, except for four instances of free meter (mm. 8-9, 41-44, 51, and 68-69), measured in clock seconds. Although the piece contains areas of chromaticism and extreme dissonance, it centers on the key of the chorale, F minor.

Despite areas of tonality and the presence of the chorale, the piece has no conventional form. The chorale serves chiefly to unify the piece by providing a recurring theme; its treatment and occurrences, however, are irregular. Table 7 is a structural outline of the work.

Registration

The manual compass for Gesänge der Toten is C to g''' and the pedal compass is C to f'. The manuals must therefore have at least fifty-six keys. The note g''' only occurs four times, however, in ten-voice dissonant arpeggios over triple pedal (m. 7); it can be omitted, virtually unnoticed, on fifty-four-key manuals.

The score specifies a three-manual instrument, but the piece can be performed on two manuals. Only one instance of rapid interplay among all three manuals occurs--improvisatory figuration and a sequence of twenty-four palm clusters in mm. 8-9; a console assistant can alternate stops to produce the three distinct timbres. An assistant is necessary, anyway, to manipulate percussion stops: the Röhrenglockenton (tubular bells), Xylophon 4', and Cymbelstern. The assistant must add and remove the Röhrenglockenton at specific points indicated in the score in mm. 60-65, and must stop the Cymbelstern in m. 64. If an adjustable combination action is unavailable, an assistant will also be indispensable for stop changes.

Besides the organ percussion stops, a bass drum ostinato occurs in mm. 51-63; the drum can be played by a second assistant or by a percussionist. The ostinato is simple and does not require a trained drummer. If the available organ does not have the necessary percussion stops, a percussionist can produce most of the percussive timbres--the Cymbelstern in mm. 51-63 and the tubular bells in mm. 60-65, for example. To heighten the dramatic intensity, the organist screams ffff in m. 8, before beginning a "wild outburst" on the manuals--an improvisatory section with palm clusters.41

The Swell expression pedal is used in mm. 2-7, 9-16, 39-40, and 51, although the console assistant can make gradual stop changes if no expression pedal is available. Table 8 lists a complete registration, based on the score, for a three-manual instrument.

Interpretation

Gesänge der Toten is a dramatic, violent, macabre work, characterized by extremes in dynamics, pitch, note values, and dissonance. A number of similarities--coincidental or not--to American composer William Bolcom's Black Host (1967) suggest his influence: (1) the use of percussion, including tubular chimes and bass drum; (2) a centrally placed dirge, accompanied by a jazz background at a slow tempo; (3) the use of a chorale, or psalm tune, especially at the end of the work; (4) graphically notated arm clusters used at the climax; and (5) a deliberate, brutal style. Obvious differences exist, too; Ericsson's piece is much shorter and does not incorporate an electronic tape. As illustrated in Table 8, the quarter note tempo increases steadily at major structural posts--from quarter note = 46 at the beginning of the piece to 112-126 at the end. That the piece is a kind of procession is emphasized in the score at the outset: "In the tempo of a very slow march."42

At the beginning, twenty-eight successive, ascending arpeggios--one per beat--are played in exact rhythm. Each hand must play and sustain five notes from each ten-voice arpeggio, spanning intervals of a ninth or tenth. Because of the difficulty in spanning these wide intervals, it will be impossible for some performers to play the piece. The arpeggios increase dynamically and rise in pitch until m. 8, where the performer suddenly screams ffff (using the vowel A, as in "father"). The scream appears on a separate staff with a speaking clef (talklav); it begins as loudly and as high in pitch as possible, and then slides downward in pitch. A footnote in Swedish in the score allows a substitute screamer: "A scream, executed by the performer or by someone in his place."43

Before the scream ends, a "wild outburst" of graphically notated improvisation in free meter begins. The first six seconds of improvisation have swirling figuration and occasional clusters that are distributed among three manuals (m. 8). In a commentary at the end of the piece, Ericsson describes the figuration as "rapidly vibrating movements of the fingers and the palm within the indicated range."44

In m. 9 the improvisation continues with ten seconds of palm clusters divided at random among the manuals. The first six palm clusters are notated as 2048th notes (with nine ligatures); the note values then increase gradually to eighth notes. This exaggerated notation produces, in effect, the indicated ritardando. The improvisation concludes with an eleven-voice chord that becomes arm clusters, and then gradually decreases in texture and dynamic over twenty seconds.

The monophonic statement of the chorale in mm. 10-16 begins tranquilly and ends with a crescendo to fff. A section of ascending arpeggios, similar to those at the beginning of the piece, begins in m. 16. This time, however, the arpeggios in the last measure of the section (m. 21) are changed to two cluster arpeggios and a cluster glissando that embellishes an arm cluster. Those clusters and the three arm clusters in m. 22 are played precisely in the march rhythm; both black and white keys are struck.

The jazz section in mm. 23-40 is loosely based on the chorale theme, which is treated as a highly embellished solo against a blues accompaniment; the section contains two tremolos (mm. 27-28), two tied trills (mm. 26 and 29), and a few other basic licks. The subsequent pedal solo begins with a low-register cluster glissando (m. 41) that can be played by the right foot on the black keys and by the left foot on the white ones. The graphic notation in m. 44 represents a fast improvisation, with toes and heels rapidly striking pedal notes at random within the range indicated. The 32' reed, added at the beginning of the measure, is unlikely to speak during the random figuration because of the fast tempo; the stop is probably added in anticipation of the three long notes that follow the improvisation. The pedal solo ends with a white-key glissando played by the left foot (m. 47).

The rhythm of the pedal solo in mm. 45-47 is repeated for the palm clusters in mm. 48-50. Then the Cymbelstern sounds, unaccompanied, for four seconds at the beginning of m. 51, before the organist and drummer begin the climactic crescendo. The bass drummer begins a five-note ostinato, accenting the note-heads that have an "X" superimposed on them. At the same time, the organist begins a slow, eighteen-second crescendo by using both arms in a cluster glissando that covers the entire Great manual. The glissando starts with the left elbow sustaining a few low notes. Gradually the entire left forearm is lowered onto the manual; the right wrist is added near the center of the manual and the right forearm is gradually lowered onto the manual until the elbow is completely down. Meanwhile, the Swell expression pedal, if available, has been opened halfway at this point; alternatively, the console assistant could have gradually added stops. The manuals are silent for four seconds while two more notes of the chorale are played in the pedal. The organist then improvises rapid manual figuration with fingers, palms, and elbows for eighteen seconds more--until maximum cacophony is reached, the expression pedal is fully opened, and the chorale in the pedal has been completed.

After the climax, the manuals are silent and the pedal sustains a perfect fourth, C-F, on soft 32' and 16' flues; the Cymbelstern continues to sound, and the bass drum begins a diminuendo. The organist plays the first seven measures of the harmonized chorale (mm. 53-59); when m. 60 is reached, the console assistant begins to add and remove the Röhrenglockenton stop four times, at locations in mm. 60-65. The Cymbelstern and bass drum are tacet at the first beat of m. 64, where the pedal takes over the ostinato from the bass drum. Stops and couplers are added at m. 67 for the end of the piece. In m. 68 the half notes with arrows through the stems are sustained while the unstemmed notes are played during a fifteen-second period of free meter.

The score contains several errors. (See Table 9.) No commercial recording of the work was located. The performance time is approximately six minutes.

Notes

                  30.           Peterson, s.v. "Hanson, Sten." by Stig Jacobson.

                  31.           Roth, 52.

                  32.           Sten Hanson, es ist genug . . . (Stockholm: Svensk Musik, [1988]).

                  33.           Hanson, Letter to this writer, October 18, 1993.

                  34.           Ibid.

                  35.           Ericsson, brochure notes for Organo con Forza, 4.

                  36.           Hanson, Letter to this writer, October 18, 1993.

                  37.           Ibid.

                  38.           Anders Ekenberg, brochure notes for Olivier Messiaen: the Complete Organ Music, vol.1, BIS CD 409,26.

                  39.           Ibid.

                  40.           Walter A. Frankel and Nancy K. Nardone, eds., Organ Music in Print; 2d ed. (Philadelphia: Musicdata, 1984), 89; Ericsson, Organo con Forza.

                  41.           Hans-Ola Ericsson, Gesänge der Toten, (Munich: Edition Modern, 1977), 4.

                  42.           Ibid., 2.

                  43.           Ibid., 4.

                  44.           Ibid., 12.

Interpretive Suggestions for Four American Organ Works, Part 2

by Earl Holt
Default

Background

William Albright, born in Gary, Indiana in 1944, attended the Juilliard Preparatory Department, the University of Michigan, and the Paris Conservatory. He studied composition with Ross Lee Finney, Olivier Messiaen, and George Rochberg; organ study was with Marilyn Mason at the University of Michigan, where he joined the faculty in 1970. At present, he is professor of music composition and associate director of the electronic music studio.50

Albright's compositions include works for organ, piano, harpsichord, chamber orchestra, theater, and chorus. As a performing organist, he champions late twentieth-century organ repertoire, including his own compositions and those of other composers. A 1972 article in The Diapason reviewed an organ recital in which Albright performed his own Organbook I and Organbook II, and works of William Bolcom and Charles Ives:

The American Guild of Organists has never been known for its adventurousness. Cautious and conservative, the guild is comprised of organists and choirmasters who are more concerned with service playing and church music, than with the avant-garde. Thus it was uncharacteristic but admirable that the local AGO chapter last night presented the Cleveland debut of William Albright, leading young composer-performer of radical new organ music.51

Albright's improvisatory style of writing has tongue-in-cheek humor, lively rhythm, and inventive registrations. Albright was named 1993 Composer of the Year by the American Guild of Organists, which published articles on his organ compositions in its journal throughout 1993.52

Albright's organ works are Chorale-Partita in an Old Style on "Wer nur" for organ solo (1963), Juba for organ solo (1965), Pneuma for organ solo (1966), Organbook I for organ solo (1967), Organbook II for organ and tape (1971), Stipendium peccati for organ, piano, and percussion (1973), Gothic Suite for organ, strings, and percussion (1973), Dream and Dance for organ and percussion (1974), Sweet Sixteenths: Concert Rag for organ solo (1975-76), Jericho: Battle Music for organ and trumpet (1976), Organbook III for organ solo (1977-78), The King of Instruments for organ and narration (1978), Halo for organ and metal instruments (1980), De spiritum for organ and two assistants (1980-81), Bacchanal for organ and orchestra (1981), That Sinking Feeling for organ solo (1982), David's Songs for organ and mixed choir or SATB solo voices (1982), Enigma Syncopations for organ, flute, and percussion (1982), Romance for French horn and organ (1982), David's Songs for organ and antiphonal choirs (1982), In memoriam for organ solo (1983), 1732: In memoriam Johannes Albrecht for organ solo and optional narration (1984), Carillon-Bombarde for organ solo (1985), Chasm for organ and optional "echo instrument" or tape (1985), Symphony for Organ for organ and percussion (1986), Deum de Deo for organ and mixed choir (1989), Valley of Fire for organ and saxophone quartet (1989), Whistler Nocturnes for organ solo (1989), and Flights of Fancy: Ballet for organ (1992). Albright's latest work, Flights of Fancy: Ballet for organ has eight movements; it was commissioned by the 1992 AGO National Convention in Atlanta.53

The work selected for this article is 1732: In memoriam Johannes Albrecht.54 Robert Anderson, professor of organ at Southern Methodist University, commissioned the work and played the premiere, which was at the St. Nikolai Church in Leipzig, Germany, during the Church Music Festival Bach Tercentenary in 1985. An Evening Dance, the last movement of 1732, was published separately in The AGO 90th-Anniversary Anthology of American Organ Music in 1988.55 C.F. Peters subsequently published the complete work; although copyrighted in 1986, it was unavailable until 1990.

Structure

Albright describes 1732 as "a program sonata in the style of Bach's Capriccio 'on the Departure of his Beloved Brother' and of the Biblical Stories of Johann Kuhnau, Bach's predecessor at Leipzig."56 The sonata traces events surrounding the emigration of Albright's ancestor, Johannes Albrecht and family, to the New World from early eighteenth-century Germany. Albright recommends either that a narrator read short lines of historical material from the score, or that program notes be distributed.

1732 has seven movements: (1) Introduction; (2) The Family Albrecht in Germany; (3) William Penn Invites the German Farmers to Buy Land in the New Colony that Bears his Name; (4) Exodus of the Palatines, 1683-1754; (5) Settlement of the Land: on the Schuylkill River in Berks County; (6) Frank to the point of Rudeness, the Albright Clan Guards Honesty as a Cardinal Virtue; and (7) An Evening Dance: the Thanks of the Family for their Divine Providence. Individual movements are unrelated in motivic material, except for a few instances of reminiscence music. The work has numerous citations from existent music and parodies of past composers' styles. Table 8 lists the citations and parodies in 1732.

A sequence of five perfect fifths, C-G, A-E, F-sharp-C-sharp, G-D, and B-F-sharp, is repeated five times in the "Introduction," with rhythmic and ornamentational alterations in each repetition. This movement is similar to the opening movement of Organbook III, "Fanfare/Echo," which has the same registration and the same compositional basis--accented, staccato, open fifths in both manuals and pedal.57 The "Introduction" to 1732 is considerably shorter, however, and ends abruptly with two sets of three chromatically descending perfect fifths.

The second movement, "The Family Albrecht," begins with dissonant ff flourishes (mm. 1-12) and repeated staccato clusters (mm. 12-14). Then, additional ff flourishes and "nasty" minor seconds return to interrupt the citation of Bach's Kantate 82 (mm. 15-50).58 After the citation, more flourishes (mm. 51-56) and staccato clusters (mm. 56-58) follow. The movement ends with a citation of Psalm 118: Lobwasser Psalter.

The first nine measures of the third movement, "William Penn's Invitation," are "slow and pompous," and in dotted rhythm. Notes are repeated in manuals and pedal at three different dynamic levels. In the following section (mm. 10-21), back-to-back citations illustrate the coincidental similarity between Bach's Kaffee Kantate and Moussorgsky's Market Place at Limoges.

The fourth movement, "Exodus of the Palatines," musically depicts the ocean voyage of the Albright clan and their subsequent arrival at the port of Philadelphia. The gently rocking motion in the citation from Bach's Kantate 56 represents calm seas (mm. 1-14). Against that background are ascending B-flat arpeggios, played canonically in the right hand and pedal parts. Then, rapid tremolos, glissandos, and scherzo-like flute figuration depict the "danger of storm and pirates" (mm. 15-36).

A stylized toccata (mm. 37-45) illustrates "the hardship of passage, the steadfastness of Anna Barbara, the stinking water and meager rations."59 The toccata consists of a descending figure in nonuplets repeated in the manuals against a pedal line that descends by perfect fifths. The suffering of the passengers ("the stinking water and meager rations") is represented by a descending chromatic motive from Bach's Capriccio "on the departure of his beloved brother." The motive is developed in the styles of both Busoni and Schönberg (mm. 46-62). Bach's Kantate 56 is then cited a second time to represent the voyagers' arrival in the New World; this time the citation is accompanied by descending B-flat arpeggios, again played canonically in the right hand and pedal parts. The movement ends with a Pennsylvania "Dutch" (Deutsch) folk song melody, played in high register and accompanied by the left-hand figuration from Kantate 56.

A "Franckian Chorale" introduces the fifth movement, "Settlement of the Land." After patriotic-sounding themes, harp "strums," the suggestion of a waltz, and a comically extended dominant preparation (mm. 26-34), the music depicts the action and gunfire of a Revolutionary War battle. The "Franckian Chorale" then returns for the triumphant conclusion of the war.

The sixth movement in the suite, "Frank to the Point of Rudeness," is the only one that has a consistent meter, 4/2, throughout. Staccato figuration, "de la manière 'Beethoven'," is interrupted by sffz minor seconds on the 32' pedal reed, and by "duck-like" quacks on the Krummhorn. The movement concludes with a two-measure reminiscence of the "Introduction," and a final quack.

The seventh movement, "An Evening Dance," is a molto vivo two-step in 2/2 meter. Various Appalachian "stomps," banjo and fiddle music, and folk harmonic progressions represent a barn dance celebration.

Registration

Because of the large number of registration changes, an instrument with three manuals is recommended. The work requires 58-key manuals and a 32-key pedal clavier; an instrument with 56-key manuals and a 30-key pedal clavier can be used, however, by making two adjustments in the second movement: (1) changing the 4' pedal stop to a 2' stop and playing the pedal line an octave lower in mm. 42-45; and (2) playing the right-hand part an octave lower in mm. 59-60. If a 2' pedal stop is not available for mm. 42-45 (on a 30-key pedal clavier), Albright suggests an alternative: "Play the right-foot part of m. 44 (only) with the left hand; mm. 43 and 45 are to be played as written."60 If this alternative is necessary, (1) the left hand should omit the c''-e'' interval on the second and third beats of m. 44 in favor of the melody transferred from the pedal, and (2) the pedal should remain at 4' pitch, with the ossia (8va bassa) not taken. Expression pedal markings in 1732 are infrequent; the work can be performed on an instrument with no expressive divisions.

Albright sometimes specifies particular tonal colors but more often uses dynamic markings to indicate ensemble registrations. Table 9 lists specific stops and tonal colors required.

Besides the stops listed in Table 9, the instrument needs both a 16' reed plenum and a 16' principal plenum with mixtures for the necessary timbral and dynamic variety. On some instruments it is possible to overcome stop limitations with intramanual couplers.

Interpretation

In a 1980 lecture on "Creativity and Expressivity" at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln, Albright stated his view that "expressive performance is possible on the organ, an instrument capable of unending sound, primarily through the skillful use of time or duration."61 A report in The American Organist summarized his lecture:

Albright stressed the need to think of personality in each line, to think of action and reaction within the composition, to sense the direction of the music in order to heighten its activity or to spread the tempo slightly as needed. He said that this can be done in passages that are notated in equal values. To play in this manner helps the listener avoid a kind of "grayness" in which the sounds are undistinguished and run together. In his own recent works, Albright has included words and phrases to assist the performer to characterize lines and sounds, to express personality in the music.62

The programmatic character of 1732 suggests an adventure story, told against a background of musical sound effects. Dry wit and humor are evident in both music and narration, although organist Douglas Reed, who has performed and written about many Albright works, deemphasizes that aspect of the work:

The format of the work is similar to Albright's earlier The King of Instruments (1978) as both works employ a text, a narrator, and various musical styles. The spirit of 1732, however, is somewhat more serious and personal than the humorous, sometimes irreverent The King of Instruments. 63

Asked to comment on how solemn, or how tongue-in-cheek, 1732 is intended to be, Albright writes: "I have done it relatively seriously, with dramatic inflection [in the narration] when appropriate. The humor, somewhat ambiguously, will come through. Satire it is not, and it's not exactly tongue-in-cheek."64 A narrator is clearly preferred for performances of the work, but lengthy program notes from the score may be substituted.

Except for the sixth movement, which is entirely in 4/2 meter, Albright uses simple or irregular changing meters throughout the work. There is an idiosyncrasy, however; a single measure of compound meter, 9/8, is in the fifth movement (m. 6). Note values are relative throughout the constantly changing meters.

The notation in the "Introduction" is complex in order to achieve the effect of the manual and pedal parts moving slightly out of synchronization. Rhythm, therefore, must be precise, especially the irregularly timed releases of the perfect fifths. This short, Coplandesque movement suggests open frontier, and is played without rubato.

The ff flourishes at the beginning of "The Family Albrecht" are dramatic and turbulent. A ritardando is specifically not included at the end of m. 14, thereby producing maximum contrast between the violent staccato clusters and the ppp entrance of Kantate 82. Furthermore, the ff flourishes that interrupt the chorale are intended to be shocking; the performer does not telegraph his intentions either by body movement or by excessive rounding of phrases. The final section of the movement (mm. 61-66) is the Lobwasser Psalter, which represents the enduring faith of the farmers. It is registered and played semplice. In mm. 63-64 the hands are deliberately out of synchronization, as indicated by the complex notation. Those two measures produce a blurred effect, with one hand moving slightly ahead, or behind, the other.

The beginning of "William Penn's Invitation" has an exaggerated, pompous character. The Kaffee Kantate citation (mm. 10-16) that follows is marked with intentionally passé "Baroque" articulation--two slurred notes followed by two staccato notes--which should be carefully observed. The Moussorgsky citation in m. 17, a whimsical comparison to the Bach citation, is played with the indicated articulation.

"Exodus of the Palatines" begins with a Kantate 56 citation and gentle, ascending arpeggios. Articulation is legato. The marking senza rit. in m. 14 indicates an abrupt shift into the "storm and pirates" section (mm. 15-36). The coloristic effects suggest a dramatic theatre organ accompaniment to a silent movie adventure. The white-key glissando in m. 30 is performed with the nails of the index and middle fingers of the right hand.

The toccata with "strange and contrasting sounds" in mm. 38-45 is a stylized imitation of late nineteenth-century French grand orgue toccatas. The chromatic lines in the citation of Bach's Capriccio "on the departure of his beloved brother" (mm. 46-62) are played movendo ma espressivo and legato, perhaps suggesting an overly sentimental phrasing.

The music must be allowed to "breathe" during the pause between mm. 62 and 63. The melody in the folk song that ends the movement (mm. 69-81) may be phrased at the punctuation marks in the accompanying text.

The performer has to adapt quickly to frequent, abrupt changes in style in "Settlement of the Land." For example, the change in style from maestoso Franckian chorale in mm. 15-16 to Viennese waltz in mm. 17-18 must be instantaneous, because the waltz is only a few beats long. The performer must also evince the playfulness of the exaggerated dominant preparation in mm. 27-34 as a cadential second-inversion chord, accompanied by florid thirty-second-note scale runs, arpeggios, and broken chords, raises the expectation of a cadence; instead, another long, florid passage begins.

The Revolutionary War battle scene in mm. 37-46 is marked violent, but the tempo should not increase. Moreover, the tempo does not vacillate anywhere in the movement; at the two spots that most tempt the performer to change the tempo, l'istesso tempo is marked. The last section in "Settlement of the Land" (mm. 47-54) represents the triumphant conclusion of the battle. The B-C-sharp long trill that begins in m. 47 should be played as fast as possible.

"Frank to the Point of Rudeness" is a scherzo that is played on as many manuals as possible, with "registration constantly shifting, ad lib." The dynamic also changes, therefore, depending upon the stops chosen. The entrance of the 32' or 16' pedal reed in m. 10 must be sudden and unexpected. Articulation in this movement is clearly marked and should be followed exactly. During the pauses in m. 18 and m. 20 the performer remains suspended in mid-gesture.

In "An Evening Dance," the fastest and most technically difficult movement, "the composer is imagining the bluegrass music his forebears might have preferred."65 The pedaling is done almost entirely by the left foot, which swings back and forth in the manner of a theatre organist. The pedal line in mm. 65-72 may be whistled or sung by the narrator, according to the score.66 A footnote to the "Fingerbreaker" section, ff with gusto, in mm. 93-116 states that "during this difficult solo a small amount of 'gloss' and approximation may be necessary."67 Nevertheless, it is quite possible, with practice, to play the section accurately, even at the rapid tempo. Another difficult segment is the vide passage (mm. 129-32); despite the technical difficulty, the molto vivo two-against-three rhythm is exciting, and should be included, if possible.68 The right-hand part in the final section, mm. 135-54, is suggestive of swing jazz, and is effective when played in a swing rhythm. Asked if such an interpretation is appropriate, Albright commented that it is "probably OK, but at that tempo, it probably doesn't matter much."69

Table 10 lists score errata, as confirmed by Albright.70 1732, which has not been commercially recorded, is approximately fifteen minutes in length.

Notes

                  50.           Hitchcock, s.v. "Albright, William."

                  51.           Wilma Salisbury, "William Albright," The Diapason, no. 748 (March 1972): 17.

                  52.           Philip Brunelle, "William Albright: 1993 AGO Composer of the Year," TAO 27, no. 1 (January 1993): 10.

                  53.           Douglas Reed, "William Albright: Organ Music of the 80s," TAO 27, no. 4 (April 1993): 60-63; Hitchcock, s.v. "Albright, William;" Brian Morton and Pamela Collins, eds., Contemporary Composers (Chicago: St. James Press, 1992), s.v. "Albright, William;"  Corliss R. Arnold, Organ Literature: A Comprehensive Survey, 2d ed., vol. 2, (Metuchen: Scarecrow Press, 1984), s.v. "Albright, William;" Kratzenstein, 190; Marilyn Mason, "Forty Years Commissioning Organ Music," TAO 20, no. 4 (April 1986): 101, 103; Albright, E-mail communication with this writer, April 24, 1995.

                  54.           William Albright, 1732: In memoriam Johannes Albrecht (New York: C.F. Peters, 1985).

                  55.           Philip Brunelle, ed., The AGO 90th-Anniversary Anthology of American Organ Music (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 3.

                  56.           Albright, preface, i.

                  57.           William Albright, Organbook III (New York: C.F. Peters, 1980), 1-7.

                  58.           Albright characteristically uses colorful performance directions in his works.

                  59.           Albright, 1732, 13.

                  60.           Albright, Letter to this writer, June 25, 1994.

                  61.           Delores Bruch, "Creativity and the New Organ," TAO 14, no. 1 (January 1980): 33.

                  62.           Ibid.

                  63.           Reed, 60.

                  64.           Albright, Letter to this writer, November 15, 1993.

                  65.           Reed.

                  66.           Albright, 1732, 27.

                  67.           Ibid., 29.

                  68.           A vide passage is an optional cut.

                  69.           Albright, Letter to this writer, November 15, 1993.

                  70.           Albright, Letter to this writer, June 25, 1994.

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

Review feature: Dietrich Buxtehude: S&auml;mtliche Orgelwerke. Vol. 1 &amp;

Wiesbaden, Leipzig, Paris: Breitkopf & Härtel, rev.

Leon W. Couch III

Dr. Leon W. Couch III, D.M.A., Ph.D., coordinates and teaches the music theory curriculum at Texas A&M University. Earlier as a graduate student, Couch maintained an organ studio and taught theory courses at the University of Cincinnati's College-Conservatory of Music. Later he served as an Adjunct Professor of Mathematics at the university. Dr. Couch's research interests are in historical music theory, Schenkerian analysis, and analysis of electronic music. He is currently investigating the role of musical rhetoric in late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century German music. For three years, Couch also served as music director at Concordia Lutheran Church, Cincinnati, Ohio. He is currently music director and organist for Our Saviour's Lutheran Church in College Station, Texas.

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Introduction and Purpose

The lack of autograph manuscripts and the haphazard transmission of Buxtehude's organ works through generations of questionable copyists has plagued Buxtehude scholarship since its inception. In many cases, the poor text found in surviving sources of Buxtehude's music makes it difficult for editors to produce successful Urtext editions for performance. In the late 1960s, Klaus Beckmann bravely diverged from orthodox editorial practice and asserted that he would attempt to recover Buxtehude's lost voice through inference and, occasionally, pure conjecture.1 Despite this controversial but necessary methodology, his 1971 edition of Buxtehude's organ works was rightly lauded by many as being thoroughly musical.  (See Table 1 for the list of common editions cited in this article.) Consequently, not only did his edition become the most popular edition for recent generations of organists, but his method was successfully employed by his competitor Christoph Albrecht in the recent Bärenreiter edition. With the performer in mind, the present article evaluates the first two volumes of Beckmann's 1997 edition of Buxtehude's complete organ works by comparing them to his earlier edition and to competing editions.

Brief Survey of Editions and Primary Sources

Beckmann attempted to remove the degradation of the musical text resulting from copyists who not only used a different musical notation than Buxtehude but were also removed from Buxtehude by region and one generation. In some cases, the scribe was simply inept or the surviving manuscripts clearly do not reflect Buxtehude's intentions. The eighteenth-century scribe of the Toccata in D Minor, BuxWV 155, for instance, not only misunderstood the meter and where to place barlines, he was also clearly confused by the North German organ tablature he was transcribing. This magnificent work exists only in this one corrupt manuscript. In examples such as Praeludium in A Major, BuxWV 151, multiple corrupt sources contradict each other or even provide extra passages.2

Under an Urtext model for editing, most editors in the past attempted to reliably transmit extant sources with an emphasis on the most recently discovered manuscripts.3 In 1876-78, Philipp Spitta drew primarily from two sources available to him, the Berlin Manuscript and the Andreas Bach Book. In 1939, Max Seiffert augmented Spitta's work with the recently discovered Lowell Mason Codex of 1684 ("Codex E. B. 1688") and the Schmahl Tablature. Still using Spitta's work as a basis, Joseph Hedar depended heavily upon the Lindemann and Engelhart Tablatures recently found in the Lund University library for his 1950 and 1952 edition.

More recent editions (after 1970) have attempted to approach all the available sources with more circumspection. But in his 1971 edition, Beckmann not only reevaluated the extant primary sources and conflated musical passages from multiple sources further than his predecessors, he took the revolutionary step of examining the musical context ("internal textual criticism") to figure out what Buxtehude might have meant to say (his "ipsissima vox").4    Albrecht's 1994-95 edition embraces Beckmann's methods, but often with different musical results. In contrast to these recent approaches aimed towards a performable score, Michael Belotti chose the least corrupt source (in his opinion) and essentially marked all other sources as variants in his recent 1998 edition. Unlike Albrecht's and Beckmann's editions, Belotti's does not present an amalgamation of sources that attempts to find Buxtehude's real voice.

In summary, nearly every edition emphasizes different sources, and the recent editions present opposing but equally legitimate approaches: Belotti's volumes allow a scholar to reconstruct any of the sources with the help of his extensive (and easy to read!) critical notes; in contrast, Albrecht and Beckmann both present convincing interpretations that a performer can simply play without being forced into score study. Because the older and the newer editions represent different sources or approaches, I must say that they all still deserve consideration when seriously studying particular works.

Beckmann's First Edition (1971): The Criticisms

Several criticisms of Beckmann's 1971 edition motivated the publication of his 1997 revision. The primary objection to the original edition was that the critical notes were only located in the scholarly volumes (EB 6621-22) intended for scholars and libraries, whereas performers generally elected to buy the relatively inexpensive performance edition (EB 6661-62). Because few bought the expensive scholarly edition, it quickly fell out of print and became essentially inaccessible. Thus, performers who used Beckmann's scores were entirely dependent upon his good musical judgement.

Furthermore, the conveniently "clean" appearance of 1971 scores gives the performer a false sense of security over the notes and musical issues. Alternative readings, suggestive indications in the primary sources, and labels marking Beckmann's inferences were not on the scores, and thus the performer is kept in the dark concerning these issues. One could not know, for instance, whether ties on repeated notes were authentic or editorial. One had to guess whether directions in manuscripts or the editor's preference determined the assignment of bass lines to the pedal or manuals. Without editorial marks, even a determined organist might not be able to discover what was original to relevant manuscripts and what was purely Beckmann's.

Although most organ scholars now agree that Beckmann's methods are necessary for the performance of many late seventeenth-century organ works, any attempt to reconstruct Buxtehude's desires obviously invites disagreements over particular interpretations. The use of pedal can be contested throughout the repertory. The most frequent criticism is Beckmann's handling of the opening keyboard figuration in the Praeludium in G Minor, BuxWV 149, in which Beckmann's groupings do not resemble those found in any source.5 (And, one of the sources suggests a more exhilarating effect.) The Toccata in D Minor, BuxWV 155, provides another common point of disagreement, because the manuscript source requires extensive editorial reconstruction--or "resurrection" as one reviewer put it. For this reason, reviewers often use this toccata to test an editor's merit.6 In the case of the Praeludium in E Minor, BuxWV 142, two sources dramatically disagree at the juncture between the last two sections.7 The quirky countersubject of the first fugue in the Praeludium in C Major, BuxWV 136, seemingly defies a consistent solution.8 When comparing the two editions, one need only spend a little effort to find many shorter instances of some import, such as striking chords and registers being normalized or inferred.9 Although alternatives to Beckmann's solutions may be better in several cases, Beckmann's 1971 interpretations are, for the most part, justifiable, musical, and convincing.10 (Alternative solutions found in other editions and in recordings can often be justified as well.) For this reason, I believe Beckmann preserved the spirit of most interpretations from 1971 in his 1997 edition.

Beckmann's Revised Edition (1997): The Preface, Critical Notes, Bibliography, and Sources

The revised edition features a more in-depth preface, a bibliography, and critical notes in addition to the scores of Buxtehude's free organ works. Beckmann's serviceable preface, despite its awkward translation, defends his goals and several of his editorial choices (more on this later)--its language and content seem aimed more towards scholars than performers using his edition. The bibliography is a wonderful addition: in one concise page, Beckmann compiles a list of recent seminal articles, along with significant editions and books. Beckmann corrected the most prominent flaw of the 1971 edition by appending the critical notes. As usual, critical notes will be a dense list of cryptic abbreviations and German phrases to the uninitiated. Although musicologists immediately feel at home, I suspect only determined, scholarly minded organists will use them. (Other editions, incidentally, do provide more accessible prefaces and critical notes.11) With the addition of these three features (preface, bibliography, and critical notes), Beckmann has responded to scholars' chief criticisms.

In addition to discussing some noticeable changes in editorial procedures (more on this later), Beckmann reiterates the modern issue over genre names in his preface: titles such as "Toccata" or "Praeludium" that can be found in the manuscript sources are preferred over the misleading anachronistic labels such as "Prelude and Fugue" found in older editions. Beckmann presses this point further than most by avoiding the inclusion of key centers in titles. The well-known Praeludium in E Major is simply "Praeludium" and indistinguishable by title from any others. Fortunately, this is not a major inconvenience, because key signatures can be read quickly, and the table of contents does list the modern keys (carefully separated from the titles). The order of pieces by BuxWV number (i.e., by key center!) in the first volume also makes the pedaliter praeludia easy to locate. The second volume, which contains the non-pedaliter and a few pedaliter free works, preserves the seemingly haphazard ordering of works in the BuxWV. One would need to memorize the BuxWV numbers to avoid constantly referring to the table of contents. Worse yet, the rough division of pedaliter and manualiter works found in the BuxWV and reflected in distribution of works in the two volumes may make Beckmann's edition potentially misleading.12 Except for BuxWV 162, in which an early eighteenth-century scribe indicated manuals only in the title, organists today may often choose whether to use pedals.

According to Beckmann, the 1997 revision reportedly benefits from recent scholarship (after 1971). Beckmann also points out that Albrecht's 1995 edition does not incorporate this scholarship, but in an addendum to his second edition (1997), Albrecht discounts the importance to his edition.13 (Three articles from the mid-1980s and the 1990s only argue that one manuscript source is derived from another one.)

Several new entries were added to the list of sources consulted by both Albrecht and Beckmann since

Beckmann's 1971 edition;14 however, the interpretation of only four works was affected. The Praeludium in F-sharp Minor, BuxWV 146, experiences the largest change--all modern editions have switched to the recently discovered Werndt manuscript as a primary source. Beckmann 1997 also adds a late eighteenth-century secondary source beyond Albrecht's list of sources, but from what I can tell, its content of three pieces makes little difference to Beckmann's  interpretations. Belotti's edition, incidentally, surveys all these currently available sources. The additional sources discovered since 1971 affect only a handful of pieces.

Beckmann's Revised Edition (1997): The Scores

Although the layout of the 1997 edition is exactly the same as the 1971 one--measures and musical notes are placed in exactly the same physical location along with the convenient page turns that we remember--the scores now distinguish some types of editorial license. In the 1997 edition, for instance, Beckmann clarifies which ties are editorial (dotted bowed lines) and which are original to the sources (solid tie). Although I find the dotted lines focus my attention too heavily on Beckmann's consistently good judgement on this issue, other reviewers apparently feel this is a major improvement. The locations of ties, incidentally, rarely change between the old and new Beckmann editions. (An example can be found in mm. 96-100 of BuxWV 149, where the tenor now rearticulates notes.)

Critical performance directions found in the sources now appear in the score. In particular, performers can easily tell whether a source specifies pedals. Thereby organists can identify ambiguous situations and choose to adopt Beckmann's educated guesses or to play alternative solutions instead. In several instances, a different choice might not only be more effective, but also be much easier to execute.15 The danger of Beckmann's (and Albrecht's) continued use of a separate staff for the pedal part, however, is that players may forget to consider these alternatives.16

Although Beckmann directly warns that "the decision about how much of the bass part is to be attributed to the manual and the pedal must be taken even when the work is notated in three staves,"17 one wonders how many organ students really read and heed his caution. Even though a skilled organist should be able to rearrange the parts at sight, too many organists may be seduced into relying too heavily on Beckmann's choices, however reasonable, to justify the ease that three-staff notation provides to the editor. Beginners will undoubtedly play what is on the page. In the preface, Beckmann also defends himself against those who claim that two-staff notation is better on historical grounds: Most sources of Buxtehude's music, admittedly, use two-staff notation, but Buxtehude himself certainly used organ tablature and did not need to make this notational decision at all.

A number of editorial changes between the 1971 and 1997 publications involve subtle changes in musical notation: (1) In the old edition, Beckmann beams four eighth notes together in 4/4 meter. According to Beckmann, the new edition uses duplets instead in order to encourage a Baroque performance practice "microarticulation." Although this change makes little difference to me when I use the scores, at least one reviewer found this subtle difference objectionably dogmatic, especially in the case of the three-eighth-note upbeat.18 (See Examples 1a and 1b.) In faster tempos, the more prominent layer of articulation probably lies on strong beats as quadruplets of the older edition would suggest. (2) Beckmann chooses to emphasize the use of dots over ties to lengthen notes. He believes that Buxtehude preferred this notation, perhaps because it reflects the act of playing more closely: If a note is struck once, one note head (with a dot) is used, rather than two note heads (with a tie). Perhaps Beckmann's scores resemble the Baroque sources a little more closely, but, as a modern player, I find this archaic notation simply irritating in some passages--it has little, if any, effect upon performance. (See Examples 2a, 2b, 3a, and 3b.) (3) Like most sources, Beckmann's edition no longer supplies rests in empty bars, leaving numerous staves entirely empty. (If he omitted these empty staves, would he be able to decrease the number of page turns?) The 1971 edition, incidentally, used a small font size for editorially supplied rests, but most users probably didn't regard the difference. (4) Less significant details exhibit more consistency in notation, such as the addition of "6" above all the (controversial) sextuplets in BuxWV 149 and the breaking of a sixteenth-note beam in m. 152 of BuxWV 142. (Note that some notational changes do reflect significant changes, such as the changed incipit to BuxWV 142, which reflects the emphasis of an alternative source in the later edition.) In summary, the improved scores, once again, better approximate the original sources, but several notational improvements have little effect on the performer.

Although most players may generally find Beckmann's improvements somewhat subtle, the addition of pedal indications from the sources, altered stemming, or even ties in particular cases can make a great difference. Beckmann, for instance, works hard to reflect the voice-leading through stemming, and, in mm. 36-39 of BuxWV 143, the revised edition uses an additional change of register to untangle the confusion of counterpoint found in his 1971 edition. (See Examples 4a and 4b.) In a case where the reviewer Lawrence Archbold praises Albrecht's choice of a striking dominant seventh sonority in m. 8 of BuxWV 155 over Beckmann's 1971 "correction" to a major triad, Beckmann does revert to the dominant seventh that Spitta, Hedar, and Albrecht all read directly from the primary source.19 Such small but important differences are evident in numerous works, and, if one is familiar with the 1971 edition, one will notice a myriad of subtle changes in nearly every work.  (See Examples 5a and 5b.) The publication of a revision is justified.

Recommendations

For organists buying Buxtehude's works for the first time, both

Beckmann's and Albrecht's editions serve the purpose of a ready-made and relatively affordable interpretation excellently. Both are highly recommended. While I personally prefer Beckmann's familiar renditions, Albrecht's edition provides enough information both on the scores and in the critical notes to involve "the user whenever possible in the decision-making process [of what to play]."20 (For this reason, Albrecht's edition might not be the best for beginners, but for more scholarly oriented players.)

From the above discussion, it is obvious that most Buxtehude enthusiasts will want to own several different editions. I should also mention that Dover has reissued Spitta/Seiffert's work (originally published by Breitkopf & Härtel in 1939). The publication is so inexpensive that it may be worthwhile to have it on one's shelves to consult occasionally, because their fine editing clearly reflects the sources that were available in 1939. In my opinion, upgrading from Beckmann's 1971 to his 1997 edition is simply too expensive, despite the countless small improvements justifying the revision's printing--Beckmann's 1971 edition suffices for those who already own it (with the caveat that performers reference another score or access the separate critical notes). I would avoid the Hedar edition as a sole performing score--as in the case of Spitta's edition, organists would need to consult other editions too often. Yet, for those without financial constraints, the Hedar edition provides another interpretation worthy of consideration and is a useful reference tool on the Lund sources. This older edition, after all, marked an important milestone in Buxtehude scholarship. Because both the Spitta and Hedar editions derive so clearly from the sources, a comparison with modern performing editions will show how much Beckmann's procedures have changed our view of Buxtehude's music.

Avid fans of Buxtehude's music should own Belotti's fine reference edition to supplement their performing editions. It is the best companion for study of this music. The scholarly edition, however, is out of the price range of most students, and, if used as a sole source for performing, it requires organists to study pieces and sources before learning pieces--something that isn't appealing to everyone.21 Libraries should obviously own Belotti's reference edition, because performers and scholars will want to examine the easy-to-read details of all the "variants" in the extant sources. A good music library will want to offer several, if not all, the currently available editions, because each displays different merits. Such resources would truly allow organists to intelligently tailor their own convincing versions.

Without Buxtehude's autograph manuscripts, no definitive edition can exist. Whatever edition of Buxtehude's music one is using, one should consult the preface and critical notes. Albrecht's preface is particularly good in this regard, along with the alternative readings in the score itself. Belotti's provides for fascinating reading and surprising accessibility in a scholarly edition. I hope that, with this article, organists will be able to choose the editions that best fit their needs and that they will feel inspired to consult multiple editions when enjoying and performing Buxtehude's music.     n

Common Editions of Buxtehude Free Organ Works

Albrecht, Christoph, ed. Neue Ausgabe sämtlicher Orgelwerke. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1994-98. (Edition BA 8221-23)

Beckmann, Klaus, ed. Sämtliche Orgelwerke. Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1971-72. (Performer's edition EB 6661-62)

________. Sämtliche Orgelwerke. Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1971-72. ("Scholarly" edition EB 6621-22)

________. Sämtliche Orgelwerke. Revised New Edition. Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1997. (Edition 6661-62)

Belotti, Michael, ed. Dieterich Buxtehude:  The Collected Works, Volume 15 (Part 1 A & B Preludes, Toccatas and Ciaconas for Organ (pedaliter)). Kerala J. Snyder and Christoph Wolff, general editors. Williamstown, MA: The Broude Trust, 1998. (ISBN 0-8540-7515-2)

Hedar, Josef, ed. Sämtliche Orgelwerke. Kobenhavn: W. Hansen, 1952. (Edition 3921-22)

Spitta, Philipp. Organ Works (1875/1939). Revised by Max Seiffert. Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1952. Reprint edition. New York: Dover, 1988. (ISBN 0-486-25682-0)

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