One hundred thirteen years of publishing history available in digital format

Christmas gifts:
a few suggestions

Writing this column in mid-October means that I have not given much thought to Christmas shopping. Instead I have spent most working hours planning programs (and then practicing) for the second in our annual schedule of three house concerts, enjoyed the opening nights of Dallas Opera’s fall season by attending Wagner’s Flying Dutchman and Bizet’s Carmen, and preparing for the first-ever wedding to take place in our spacious music room. (After all, with a pipe organ and seating for forty guests, why not?)

However, now as you read these December Harpsichord Notes, I hope they may contain some suggestions that could be of help for all who have yet to make gift selections. So, tally-ho and read on!

• Eagle-eyed subscribers to The Diapason will have seen the notice of J. William Greene’s new compact disc Christmas Ayres and Dances in the Here & There section (page 12) of our October magazine. The disc (Pro Organo CD 7281) comprises Greene’s performances of his genial compositions played on a Gerrit Klop continuo organ and a single-manual harpsichord by Peter Fisk. The clever Baroque-style arrangements of familiar carols and secular songs of the season are sure to delight the ears of music-loving friends. Among my personal favorites is Greene’s Bell Fugue (based on Jingle Bells), sure to be a hit. For colleagues who are fellow keyboardists, why not purchase not only the compact disc, but also the printed scores for these captivating arrangements? All three volumes are available from Concordia Publishing House. Bell Fugue is the final piece in Volume II.

• An earlier publication by Edwin McLean (born 1951) bears the title A Baroque Christmas—Carols and Counterpoint for Keyboard (New Interpretations of traditional seasonal pieces for piano, organ, or harpsichord), issued in 2003 by Frank J. Hackinson (FJH Publishing Company), Fort Lauderdale, Florida. With works somewhat easier than Greene’s compositions, McLean offers a single forty-page volume of charming and useful pieces equally suited for all the instruments mentioned in his introduction, including digital keyboards. Eleven tunes are set: Noël Nouvelet, God Rest You Merry, Greensleeves, Coventry Carol, Kings of Orient, Pat-A-Pan, In dulci jubilo, Veni Emmanuel, Tempus Adest Floridum, Stille Nacht, and Adeste Fideles. I have used most of these for church and concerts and continue to enjoy them very much.

• Now for something completely different: author Mark Schweizer has made a slight deviation from the fourteen murder mysteries that began with The Alto Wore Tweed and progressed through the various vocal ranges (The Tenor Wore Tapshoes, The Diva Wore Diamonds, The Organist Wore Pumps, etc.), a series of novels that has captivated so many of us.  A fifteenth story, also set in St. Germaine (Schweizer’s fictitious small town in North Carolina), is replete with the familiar cast of characters headed by Hayden Konig, police chief and organist/choirmaster extraordinaire of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church. But in the shorter novella titled simply The Christmas Cantata the author deviates slightly from the others in his series. It is available in the original paperback format (95 pages) or as a more recent hardback edition, both of which present exactly the same text, but the second edition is in a slightly smaller book format that requires 128 pages—more elegant and better, perhaps, for stocking stuffing. ’Tis a gentle tale, still filled with hilarious episodes, musical references, and sly liturgical guffaws: available from St. James Music Press (SJMP Books). You may wish to include a special handkerchief in that stocking, for the denouement is beautifully touching and may bring tears to the eyes. Also, a warning: this author’s mysteries are habit forming; I sincerely doubt that anyone can read just one! In a surprise email, received as I write this essay, Schweizer announced the fifteenth, and final, St. Germaine mystery: The Choirmaster Wore Out. Definitely a brand-new entry for acquiring and giving away!

• Thanks to my mother I began listening to operas at a tender age. Each Saturday afternoon in fall and winter, beginning when I was nine years old, my ears would be focused on our radio speaker as Mom and I listened to the New York Metropolitan Opera broadcasts in our small town of Corsica, Pennsylvania. I am grateful for this background as well as for my grade- and high-school experiences as a wind player, especially the ones after I began to play oboe. That, plus the choral directing experiences that were part and parcel of my graduate work and early professional engagements taught me a great deal about phrasing and making the music “breathe” in natural ways. I firmly believe that every keyboardist needs this type of training to become a better musician. Later these experiences engendered many a humorous moment in organ or harpsichord lessons when I would stop a student to suggest some necessary phrasing here or there, and often end with the comment, “I still can’t believe that you pay all this tuition for me to remind you to breathe and count!”

As an aid to the development of vocally informed musicality I would suggest as a Christmas gift, both to “self” and “others”—and a most unusual one, at that: ARC, which is the title of the Decca Records debut CD performed by countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo. This artist (who has been selected as “Vocalist of the Year” by Musical America) has put together a program that demonstrates his self-admitted 50% love of Baroque music and 50% devotion to contemporary works. On this magnificent disc Costanzo performs works by Philip Glass and George Frideric Handel. This modern mastersinger of both styles convinced me of the beauty to be found in each, and I have listened repeatedly, enraptured by his musicality. Costanzo made his Dallas Opera debut on October 30, 2015, in the world premiere of Jake Heggie and Terrence McNally’s opera Great Scott. Since that magical evening I have been following Costanzo’s brilliant career. His artistry, both as singer and actor, earns him my highest recommendation and admiration.

• Another Handelian who could bring tears to the eyes with her exquisite vocalism was the mezzo-soprano Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, who began a musical career as violist, but soon was discovered to have one of the great female voices of the twentieth century. Sample her exquisite singing on the Avie CD 30, released in 2002—only four years before her untimely death at age 52. Lieberson is ably abetted by the Baroque specialist, conductor, and harpsichordist Harry Bicket, playing an Italianate single-manual harpsichord by Douglas Maple (after Zenti). This recording is another musical experience that just might be life changing.

• August 16, 2019, will be the sixtieth anniversary of Wanda Landowska’s death. The “mother of us all,” this pioneering harpsichordist still resonates through her recordings and through the memoirs contributed by her devoted friends (and occasional detractors). I was incredibly fortunate to have known Mrs. Putnam Aldrich, known universally as “Momo,” Landowska’s first private secretary during the years they spent together at Wanda’s “Temple of Music” in Saint-Leu-la-Forêt, France. I became acquainted with Momo through our mutual friend Richard Kurth, a fellow Ohioan who has spent most of his career teaching French and Spanish at the Kamehameha School in Honolulu. Richard, who drove Momo to the local Alliance Française meetings, actually accomplished our mutual introductions, and thus resulted my invitation for Momo to tell her account of those years for The Diapason. For many subsequent winters I spent my Christmas holidays visiting Richard and Momo in Hawaii (a tough choice, but someone needed to do it), interviewing Mrs. Aldrich year after year and taking notes that eventually found their way into Harpsichord in America: a Twentieth-Century Revival.

It was during one of these remarkable meetings that I, quite brazenly, asked Momo who might inherit a caricature of Wanda that was prominently displayed in each of Momo’s dwellings (she changed addresses several times during these years). That query remained unanswered until the last day of that year’s Honolulu sojourn when Momo handed me a wrapped package, approximately eight and a half inches by six and a half inches. I knew without looking what was enclosed in that brown paper, and I said, “You must keep this! I know what it means to you.” But Momo insisted, and, I confess, I did not argue with her for very long. The caricature, an unsigned watercolor, is widely considered to be the finest of all such drawings, especially in its perfect details.

When I arrived home in Dallas I immediately had some photographs made, and sent them to Momo so she would not be without that beautiful image. Eventually I loaned a professional high-decibel print of “my” Wanda portrait to Martin Elste for his 2009 Berlin Landowska Symposium and Exhibition, and it served as the signature work of that event. It also is published in Dr. Elste’s magnificent book Die Dame mit dem Cembalo [The Lady with the Harpsichord] (Schott Music, 2010, Order Number ED 20853; ISBN 978-3-7957-0710-1). The full-color print of the caricature may be found on page 98. The book’s text is entirely in German except for the four pages from the memoirs of American harpsichordist Irma Rogell: “Walks with Wanda,” on pages 146–150. Even if one is not fluent in German the comprehensive range of Elste’s illustrations (many of which are photographs that he travelled far and wide to make) places this deluxe 240-page volume at the top of the list as the most comprehensive pictorial history of our beloved “Mamusia.”

• I was tremendously moved by Martin Pearlman’s generosity with his Armand-Louis Couperin Edition, made available for all of us to download and print, free of any copyright restrictions. In a recent email Martin included a shorter URL for accessing his gift: http://tinyurl.com/ALCouperin. I pass it on to our readers as per Martin’s suggestion, and wish you, once again, a happy downloading experience.

It is with a small, Pearlman-inspired gesture that I offer my Christmas gift to our readers: free use of my Landowska caricature. Like Martin, I urge you to use it wherever and whenever you wish, copyright free. And, I would ask only that you use the credit “Larry Palmer collection, gift of Momo Aldrich.”

• As my final Christmas suggestion: if you have a friend or acquaintance who does not subscribe to The Diapason, why not present that lucky person with a year’s subscription to this journal? It would benefit your friends and help to ensure that the magazine continues in its beautiful, full-color format for many years to come. What could be nicer? And twelve times a year you make your friend(s) happy­—and perhaps more involved in your musical world.

Notes in The Diapason: a bit of history

Siegfried Gruenstein, the founding editor of The Diapason, served for forty-eight years. The front-page tribute to him in the December 1959 issue celebrating the magazine’s fiftieth anniversary began with these descriptive words:

. . . a rare combination of competent organist and professional newspaper man, (Gruenstein) founded The Diapason in 1909 against the advice of his elders among organists, builders, and well-wishers. That it grew and prospered steadily under his guidance was due wholly to his skill, his impartiality, his integrity and his taste. . . .  At first the principal purpose of the magazine was to represent the organ industry. However, it soon became evident that the organist and the organbuilder were so closely allied in their interests that the field should include both of them and that the paper would serve to bring the two more closely together.

In those early years the magazine expanded its focus in several directions, serving for a time as the official journal of the American Guild of Organists, for example. However, it was not until Frank Cunkle, Gruenstein’s successor, took over the supervision of the magazine that the organ’s sister instrument, the harpsichord, was welcomed into its pages. The first person to take charge of harpsichord matters was Philip Treggor (1920–2004) of Hartford, Connecticut, who published his first column in October 1967 (page 11). November’s column (page 13) featured the lute while a feature article by E. Power Biggs occupied the opposite page with his “Case for the Pedal Harpsichord.” Treggor’s three columns of interviews with Denise Restout, Wanda Landowska’s companion and legatee, presented valuable information about the pioneer harpsichordist’s biography and legacy (1968: March page 15, April page 23, May pages 14–15).

I had made my Diapason print debut five years earlier, in November 1962, when the magazine published the feature article “Hugo Distler—20 Years Later” based on research I was doing for my Doctor of Musical Arts thesis that I was busily writing while a student at the Eastman School of Music. My first guest contribution to Treggor’s column, published in June 1968, was “Isolde Ahlgrimm as the Widow Bach” (page 15), followed in October of the same year with my report on the second Bruges International Harpsichord Competition (pages 10–11). Meanwhile, in July 1968, Treggor’s column featured an interview with Boston-based composer Daniel Pinkham (page 8).

Treggor wrote an informative column about Arnold Dolmetsch’s collaborations with the Chickering Piano Company as they produced harpsichords and other early musical instruments (November 1968, page 12, with continuation in the December issue, pages 10–11), which proved to be his swansong, for he resigned from harpsichord column responsibilities at the beginning of January 1969.

During 1969 harpsichord news items were solicited from our readers, who were instructed to send them to the editorial staff of The Diapason. In May I submitted another feature article about Hugo Distler’s Harpsichord Concerto (pages 12–13), and in September 1969 an announcement and my picture appeared on page 25, with the information that, from henceforth, I would be “the man in charge of harpsichord items.” The following month my first column as harpsichord editor was published: “Praeludium, Allemande, and Courant: Some Notes on a European Summer” (page 12), and in December 1969 I relayed some corrections concerning the Huguenots and the city of Erlangen, as sent to me by Dr. Lowell G. Green of Boone, North Carolina, a reader who knew far more about such matters than I did. I was pleased to publish his corrections since that is how knowledge is disseminated.

So, depending on when one begins counting the years, I am either celebrating my fiftieth anniversary year as harpsichord editor or the fifty-seventh year since my first publication as a writer for this splendid magazine, which I have served by working with every editor except the founder, happy to have lasted even longer than Mr. Gruenstein, albeit with far fewer responsibilities. It will be my pleasure during 2019 to revisit some favorite pieces from this more-than-half-century collection of articles, as well as editing several guest essays, and, hopefully, sharing a few more original thoughts of my own.

2018 Harpsichord Notes: topics and page numbers

January, page 10: A posthumous gift from Gustav Leonhardt (Bach transcriptions published by Bärenreiter)

February, page 11: The Art of the Harpsichord (Two Texas Treasures: three-manual harpsichord by Keith Hill and Philip Tyre, miniature by Art Bell)

March, page 12: Handel with care (performance suggestions, recommended books, Handel House Museum, London)

April, page 10: Harpsichordist Jane Clark’s birthday

May, page 11: Seeking Haydn (new compact disc reviewed, some relevant research noted)

June, page 12: Dandrieu’s Harpsichord Music

July, pages 10–11: A glimpse into actual eighteenth-century performance practices (Beverly Jerold’s article, “Reichardt’s Review of Handel Concerts in London”)

August, page 10: Death and taxis in Vienna (Obituary of Gordon Murray), Review of Bach Violin/Harpsichord Sonatas CD (Pine and Vinikour), Communications from Readers

September, page 12: Armand-Louis Couperin Keyboard Works, edited by Martin Pearlman available for free download

October, page 14: A letter from Johann Sebastian Bach with two illustrations by Jane Johnson

November, page 16: Recent recordings of Bach’s Goldberg Variations by Diego Ares, Wolfgang Rübsam, and Helmut Walcha (from a boxed set)

December, page 11: Christmas gifts: a few suggestions (CDs, scores, books, and an anonymous Landowska caricature)

A fascinating book by Beverly Jerold, Music Performance Issues: 1600–1900

Readers of The Diapason’s July 2018 issue most likely remember Beverly Jerold’s article about two eighteenth-century concerts of Handel’s music as reviewed by the Berlin Court Kapellmeister Johann Friedrich Reichardt, who attended the programs during his 1785 visit to London. Ms. Jerold has spent much of her life researching for period information about musical performances as reported by the persons who experienced them. One could see in the stunning color headshot of this intrepid author that she has a firm chin and twinkling eyes, ever on the lookout for authentic information about the topic that she is researching. These period verifications serve as guides for those who seek stylistic authenticity in their own present-day performances.

From the many varied essays that Jerold has published in a wide range of journals she has selected nineteen articles for her book Music Performance Issues: 1600–1900, issued in 2016 by Pendragon Press, Hillsdale, New York, as a paperback edition comprising 359 pages of useful knowledge (ISBN 978-1-57647-175-0, list price: $65, available from www.pendragonpress.com).

I would enjoy sharing many of her remarkable discoveries and observations with you, but it would be unfair for me to present you with Jerold’s discoveries, and it might rob you, the readers, of the surprises that you may have when you read the book for yourselves. I do encourage you to access the volume and to enjoy Jerold’s findings, offered with the utmost clarity and complete references to her sources. To whet your curiosities, here are the titles of the book’s chapters:

• Dilettante and Amateur: Our Evolving Language

• Bach’s Lament about Leipzig’s Professional Instrumentalists

• Choral Singing Before the Era of Recordings

• Why Most a cappella Music Could Not Have Been Sung Unaccompanied

• Fasch and the Beginning of Modern Artistic Choral Singing

• What Handel’s Casting Reveals About Singers of the Time

• Intonation Standards and Equal Temperament

• Eighteenth-Century Stringed Keyboard Instruments from a Performance Perspective [LP: You may be surprised about the clavichord!]

• The Tromba and Corno in Bach’s Time

• Maelzel’s Role in Beethoven’s Symphonic Metronome Marks

• The French Time Devices Revisited

• The Notable Significance of Common Time and Cut Time in Bach’s Era

• Numbers and Tempo: 1630–1800

• Overdotting in Handel’s Overtures Reconsidered

• Notes inégales: A Definitive New Parameter

• Distinguishing Between Artificial and Natural Vibrato in Premodern Music

• A Solution for Simple (secco) Theater Recitative

• How Composers Viewed Performers’ Additions

• The Varied Reprise in Eighteenth-Century Instrumental Music—A Reappraisal

Telemann Sonatas for Violin and Harpsichord

Totally unfamiliar music by the most prolific baroque composer Georg Friedrich Telemann (1681–1767) fills a recent compact disc featuring violinist Dorian Komanoff Bandy and harpsichordist Paul Cienniwa (Whaling City Sound, WCS 108). Originally published in Frankfort-am-Main in 1715, these six four-movement works, each comprising alternating slow-fast-slow-fast movements, were composed with the burgeoning amateur house music musician in mind. A seventh sonata of similar style and length that has survived only in the composer’s manuscript preserved in the Dresden State Library receives its world premiere recording to fill out the program.

In disc and numerical order the sonatas are in G Minor, D Major, B Minor, G Major, A Minor, and A Major; the extra seventh sonata is in F-sharp Minor. Each composition bears the TWV (Telemann Werke Verzeichnis [“work catalogue”]) number 41, followed by an indication of its individual key (in German style: g, D, h, G, a. A, fis).

I had met the harpsichordist during a long-ago Boston Early Music Festival visit. He has recently relocated to the warmer climes of Florida where (now Dr.) Paul Cienniwa is music director of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Delray. Thus it was not difficult to locate an email address for this fine artist. I especially wanted to learn who had built the harpsichord used for this recording and to ascertain whether the works were being played from a realized score or from the more probable two-line original engraving. It turned out to be the latter, which made my admiration for such beautiful collaborative musicianship ascend even several units higher. Especially an elegant solo harpsichord introduction to the “Cantabile” of the B-minor Sonata had moved me deeply, and I appreciate the sensitive musical realization of the figured bass throughout. It also pleased me that Cienniwa lists among his musical mentors Jerome Butera, a longtime editor of The Diapason and currently the magazine’s sales director. (File that in your “Small World” folder, please.)

The fine-sounding instrument, it turned out, is a single-manual 2 x 8 example inspired by the unique 1681 Vaudry harpsichord (an instrument that our readers encountered briefly last month through the illustration for Jane Clark’s article on François Couperin). It was built in 2008 by Kevin Spindler. For those who might wish to acquire this music, violinist Bandy suggests IMSLP for downloading (https://imslp.org), or, even better, a facsimile of the 1715 edition published by Anne Fuzeau Productions (http://www.editions-classique.com/en/index.php). With such a fine example of the collaborative harpsichord line for consultation, one might not be so reluctant to realize that figured bass.

Michael Gailit graduated from the University of Music and Performing Arts in Vienna with both performance and pedagogy diplomas in organ as well as in piano. Teaching piano at this institute since 1980, he has also conducted the organ studio at the Musik und Kunst Universität in Vienna since 1995. As church organist he served at Saint Augustine’s Church, 1979–2008; in 2011 he was appointed organist at the Jesuit Church (Old University Church).

Both in his performance and teaching repertoire, Gailit includes all style areas on the basis of their individual performance practices. He has toured with solo recitals on both instruments in Europe as well as in North America and appeared with leading orchestras and renowned conductors. Recordings, masterclasses, invitations to juries, musicological publications, editing sheet music, compositions, arrangements, supporting the piano-organ duo repertoire, commissioned works, first performances, and finally occasional trips into the theatre and silent movie repertoire should be noted.

Particular attention was received in 1989 for the first performance of the complete piano and organ works of Julius Reubke (1834–1858), the performance of the complete organ works of Franz Schmidt (1874–1939) the same year, as well as in September 2005 a series of six recitals with the trio sonatas of Johann Sebastian Bach, the organ sonatas of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, and the organ symphonies of Louis Vierne. Currently Gailit is working on a book, The Enigma BWV 565, a study elucidating new answers and new questions.

Editor’s note: Part 1 of this series appeared in the June 2021 issue of The Diapason, pages 18–19; part 2 appeared in the July 2021 issue, pages 12–14; part 3 appeared in the December 2021 issue, pages 16–18; part 4 appeared in the August 2022 issue, pages 15–17; part 5 appeared in the September 2022 issue, pages 19–21.

Before we introduce the most promising candidate for the vacant position of the composer of BWV 565, the author would like to mention two of his recent discoveries.¹ We have observed that the ending of the toccata section contains the second phrase of the opening in the pedal.² It was a surprise to find that the section also contains the first phrase! Pitch notation reveals that, from the second half of measure 27 onward, the nine notes of the top voice are the nucleus, just in a different order and with larger note values (Example 79).

The second discovery concerns the upper voice of measure 98. After a chain of eighth notes with ties, not only is the E-flat repeated, but also its accidental (Example 80). Until now, this has always been interpreted as a missing tie, and editors customarily replaced the two eighth notes by a quarter note. However, it does not seem conclusive that the copyist both forgot the tie and, against custom, repeated the accidental. Changing the first E-flat to E-natural results in a complete chromatic fourth moving parallel with the lower voice (Example 81). In addition, the natural of the preceding note F in the manuscript shows how easily a clumsy natural can be misread as a flat.

Leaving aside these two recent motivic discoveries and returning now to our quest for the “Unknown of BWV 565,” let us consider a statement by Rolf Dietrich Claus:

We owe the only reference to Johann Sebastian Bach as the author of BWV 565 to [the manuscript copy of] Johannes Ringk. The only other evidence for Bach’s authorship is the “authentication by tradition” and the argument: “who else could it have been?” Since the latter two do not contribute to a factual assessment of the question of authenticity, they remain undiscussed here.³

This statement of Rolf Dietrich Claus has been the author’s primary motivation to investigate the case of BWV 565. There are only two possibilities regarding the creator. Either we already know or we do not know the composer. The latter is hardly imaginable although there are composers who sadly died early and left only one major piece to posterity. Looking for a known composer, a candidate takes the stage, whose keyboard works show an inventive approach in general and convincing similarities to BWV 565 in particular.

The candidate

The Unknown now becomes a person. Our suspect surpassed his father in fame beyond his lifetime as a keyboard virtuoso, a renowned teacher, a prolific composer, an avid publisher of his own works, and an esteemed chamber musician to Frederick II. He had a tremendous influence on Joseph Haydn (1732–1809), who was to become the father of the Viennese Classical style. We are talking of course about Johann Sebastian Bach’s second oldest son, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714–1788). Hardly any information has survived about the relationship between C. P. E. Bach and Haydn other than this telling story:

In a happy hour, in which his cash register allowed him a small extra expenditure, he visited one of those booksellers whose treasures he had so often only been able to admire in the display windows. We will not deny ourselves the assumption that he remembered his former neighbor Binz and directed his steps to his vault at the Stephan Cemetery. At his request to present him with the best known piano works of the moment, the bookseller took out a booklet of sonatas by C. Ph. Emanuel Bach and praised them so forcefully that Haydn paid without further ado, packed up the booklet, and hurried towards his attic. “I could not get away from my piano until I had played through the sonatas.”⁴

At the internet website cpebach.org, the Packard Humanities Institute of Los Altos, California, recently published all of the compositions of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach in an excellent urtext edition accompanied by a critical report. Since we know the year of completion or publication of all of the more than 150 keyboard sonatas, we are able to observe and follow the compositional development of the composer.

Placed among Johann Sebastian’s keyboard works, the visual impression of BWV 565 alone is jarringly different. The opposite is true with Carl Philipp’s late keyboard works. Among them, BWV 565 gives the impression of ready-made merchandise rather than provocative haute couture. The esteemed reader is invited to browse through the nearly 800 pages of keyboard solo sonatas. It is a truly unique experience. For this article, only the most relevant examples were selected. Apart from textures similar to those in BWV 565, the guideline for the search was to look for opening themes fulfilling these three conditions:

• beginning on the dominant note;

• descent of five scale steps to the tonic note;

• ending on the mordent motive with the leading tone as the lower neighbor note.

Selected examples

Carl Philipp’s first keyboard sonata provides an appropriate example to get started. Indebted to the Baroque style with its imitation work in general and to his father’s Invention in F Major, BWV 779, this piece contains quite a few motives also present in BWV 565. The descending tetrachord and its circolo mezzo⁵ variant is reworked with genuine keyboard figurations. In measures 10 and 11, the sequences twice cite all nine notes of the nucleus of BWV 565, which also provides the substance for the opening of the second movement (Example 82).

On the other hand, in Johann Sebastian’s keyboard music, organ or harpsichord, a theme of five descending scale steps plus a closing mordent motive simply does not exist at all, with the single exception of a theme in the Pastorale in F Major, BWV 590 (Example 83).

The step-wise descending fifth can be encountered in Carl Philipp’s keyboard music numerous times and in many variations, just as we also encounter many unison passages, figurations with arpeggio chords, and sections with alternately played hands. From the very first one, all sonata movements bear tempo designations, and some movements several. The Sonata in B Minor, Wq 49/6,⁶ third movement, reworks a theme very similar to the BWV 565 theme. An ornamented version of its first movement resembles the beginning of BWV 565 as well, as does the first movement of the Sonata in C Minor, Wq 50/6, of 1759. The Fantasia in D Minor, Wq 114/7, shares four beats with the identical figuration in BWV 565 (Example 84).

The Sonata in A Minor, Wq 57/2, first movement, places the main idea in three different octave positions. The third movement, “Allegro di molto,” varies the motive in three descending phrases (Example 85).

Carl Philipp’s Rondo in C Major, Wq 56/1, fills sections with triad figurations in unison, strongly resembling those in measures 8 through 10 of BWV 565. The given dynamics in the Rondo passage inspires one to vary registrations and manual changes in the toccata (Example 86).

The closing of the Fantasy in F Major, Wq 59/5, resembles the beginning of BWV 565 in more than one section. The main motive appears in three different octave positions,⁷ followed by ascending broken chords, a unison passage, and a chord phrase in figured-bass style. The dominant-seventh chord on E-flat jumps out of the composer’s surprise box. Serving as a subdominant and pivot, it sits in the exact midpoint of the chord phrase (Example 87).

The arpeggios from the Rondo in A Minor, Wq 56/5, show the practice of repeating each harmony twice (Example 88).

In his late sonata movements Carl Philipp Emanuel also developed a certain predilection for chord tremolos, such as in the left hand of the passage from Sonata in B-flat Major, Wq 59/3, a playing style similar to the trill cadenza in BWV 565 on the diminished-seventh chord in measures 22 through 27 (Example 89).

We have no proof as to how Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach was connected with Toccata and Fugue ex d, BWV 565. The examples show, however, that there must have been some connection. At any rate, BWV 565 is still a Bach’s toccata, but the question “Who else could it have been?” strongly suggests the answer is Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. Certainly, without further evidence, the field remains open for speculation. Do the similarities between BWV 565 and Carl Philipp’s keyboard pieces prove him as the innovative composer of the post-Baroque revolutionary organ piece? Or do they prove him as an avid plagiarizer? Carl Philipp burned his own works, which he did not want distributed, on a large scale in 1786.⁸ Did one of his students secretly copy the piece before?

BWV 565 requires a bottom C-sharp in measure 2, rarely found in organs of Johann Sebastian Bach’s time. This fact has caused some speculation about instruments possibly connected to BWV 565. Related to this question, two organs remain unnoticed thus far. They were commissioned in 1755 and 1776 by the youngest sister of Frederick II, princess Anna Amalia of Prussia (1723–1787). Both were built with full compasses on all manuals and pedal. The first one still exists and is now located in the Kirche Zur frohen Botschaft (Church of the Good News) in Berlin-Karlshorst. Kristian Wegscheider and his team completed a careful restoration of this sonorous instrument in 2010. It is hard to describe how thrilling BWV 565 sounds on this organ. The missing bottom C-sharp, however, did not stop organists from playing the piece in concert. According to reviews in the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, BWV 565 was played on the organ at Saint Mary’s Church in Berlin in 18179 and 1829,10 the very first evidence of public performances—and on an instrument without a bottom C-sharp.

The new status

The quest needs to continue. The efforts of libraries and other institutions are most helpful to make sources digitally available worldwide.

• Motivic-thematic work. Far more significant than both questions of authorship and date of composition is the undeniable fact that BWV 565 is a motivic-thematic work. Until now, the development of this technique had been attributed to Joseph Haydn (1732–1809). BWV 565 is lifted now to the unique status of being the very first significant composition in music history using this technique.

• Post-Baroque revolution. The author introduced this term to compensate for a lacking general designation of the time period between the Baroque and the Viennese Classical periods. BWV 565 shows a significant number of essential features of this style.

• Cantata BWV 202. Due to divergent handwriting in comparable sources, the date of 1730, shown on the title page of the cantata, cannot be used conclusively.

• Johannes Ringk. From eighteen manuscript sources marked with the name of Ringk as the scribe, a total of eight manuscripts show conformity with the signature font and other features. This body truly represents the scribe Johannes Ringk. The remaining ten manuscripts, including that of BWV 565, have a number of congruences among themselves as well, but none of them in use by Ringk. It can be said securely that the scribe of the earliest source of BWV 565 was definitely not Johannes Ringk.

• Johann Sebastian Bach. Internal evidence suggests that the question “Who else?” turns naturally to Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. Adolf Berhard Marx (1795–1866), the leading music theorist of his time, published BWV 565 under Johann Sebastian Bach’s name with Breitkopf & Härtel in 1833. He mentioned his doubts about authenticity, however, in the Berlin music journal Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung several times. Subsequently, Friedrich Griepenkerl (1782–1849) opened a wordy battle in this journal. His edition of Bach’s organ works with Edition Peters in 1845 claimed to be based on authentic sources. Regardless of this vivid dispute, both Marx and Griepenkerl had the same goal—to save a great piece for posterity that would have otherwise been lost forever. It was Griepenkerl who said:

In addition, I do not a have a bad conscience about including an inauthentic piece. One stroke through it, and the matter is settled. The buyer loses nothing, but gains another good piece.¹¹

Marx had obviously discovered the true nature of BWV 565:

My doubt is not based on documents or their lack, but on the content of the work, which from the first to the last note does not seem to me to be written in the spirit, according to Bach’s artistic principle or system, but rather to bear the marks of the attenuated post-Bach’s period. I would not be at a loss to defend this view at length if the patience of the readers and the space of a newspaper did not impose considerations. Whoever is familiar with the many discussions of Bach in my works . . . will in any case not need any further proof. Or, if it is desired, I will give it occasionally.¹²

Marx was never asked for proof. Nothing stopped BWV 565 from starting its world career under the name of Johann Sebastian Bach. Unraveling the true nature of the composition indeed required an undue amount of time and space. The author is grateful to The Diapason and its editors for patience and enthusiasm in publishing this survey.

Notes

1. Pianist-musicologist Dr. John Strauss of Luther College, Decorah, Iowa, was of invaluable help in providing dedicated advice and assistance to the author in the completion of this text.

2. Michael Gailit, “Exploring the unknown of BWV 565, Part 2” The Diapason, July 2021, pages 12–14, Example 26.

3. Rolf Dietrich Claus, Zur Echtheit von Toccata und Fuge d-Moll BWV 565, second edition (Köln-Rheinkassel: Dohr, 1998), 11.

4. Carl Ferdinand Pohl, Joseph Haydn (Berlin, A. Sacco Nachfolger 1875), 131.

5. Half circle in Italian; term for a four-note figuration following the form of a half circle in stepwise motion.

6. The code Wq refers to the catalogue of works of C. P. E. Bach by the Belgian music bibliographer Afred Wotquenne (1867–1939), which was largely based on the work of the organist Johann Jacob Heinrich Westphal (1756–1825), a friend and contemporary of Carl Philipp.

7. Notated as seven 32nd notes on a quarter beat, the correct notation would be septuplets of 16th notes.

8. Siegbert Rampe, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach und seine Zeit (Laaber: Laaber 2014), 465.

9. Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, vol. 19, September 17, 1817 (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel), 655.

10. Berliner allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, vol. 6, May 23, 1829, 456.

11. Quoted from Claus, p. 11.

12. Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, vol. 50, March 8, 1848, 159–160.

The Diapason harpsichord columns history

Part II: Front-page features

The magazine’s third editor Robert Schuneman made harpsichord history when he placed my report on the Bruges [Belgium] International Harpsichord Competition and Festival on the front page of the October 1971 issue. To my knowledge this was the first time a non-organ-related item had appeared in that prominent spot! There were two black-and-white photographs: at the top of the page, the first prize winner, Scott Ross from the United States playing a harpsichord by David Rubio, and at the bottom, a picture of the very distinguished and very international jury: Kenneth Gilbert, Raymond Schroyens, Colin Tilney, Charles Koenig, Robert Veyron-Lacroix, Isolde Ahlgrimm, and Gustav Leonhardt, plus the director of the festival, Robrecht Dewitte, surrounding an instrument by Rainer Schuetze. The report continued on page 10, graced with one more illustration­—the semi-finalists, a truly international group from the UK, Netherlands, France, Chile, Ceylon, Hong Kong, Italy, Canada, and two from the United States.

Front page #2: I returned to Bruges for the fourth competition in July 1974. Again, Editor Schuneman placed the report of that event on the front page of October’s magazine, and it was just as eye-catching as the first feature, with three photographs. (A young Martin Pearlman is the first figure on the left of the middle picture.) My lengthy article continued without illustrations, on pages 3 and 4.

As had become usual for the Bruges event by this time, the harpsichord solo competition was not graced with a first prize. The five finalists garnered awards beginning with a second prize, continuing with two sharing the third spot, and one each in fourth and fifth rankings. I noted that none of the players had reached the electrifying level of playing achieved by Scott Ross in 1971. The most popular harpsichord chosen by the contestants was a harpsichord by William Dowd, built in his Paris workshop.

Front page #3: The Diapason published in July 1978 displayed David Fuller’s fascinating and erudite article “Harpsichord Registration” on page one, courtesy of Editor Arthur Lawrence. The front page sported a two-column-wide facsimile of the first page from Armand-Louis Couperin’s Simfonie de Clavecins. Fuller’s comprehensive traversal of this most interesting topic continued on pages 6 and 7, illustrated with a diagram of knee levers, two further musical manuscript examples by C. P. E. Bach, and a useful bibliography for further study of this topic. As an additional bit of nostalgia, page 7 also had an advertisement for Richard Kingston harpsichords; at this time Richard was still in his first decade of building fine instruments in his Dallas, Texas, shop.

Front page #4: Editor Lawrence chose my “Affectionate Remembrance” of the late E. Power Biggs for the cover feature of March 1979’s journal, resplendent with a large photograph of the master organist and his pedal harpsichord. I just happened to be at harpsichord maker John Challis’s home one afternoon during the 1960 American Guild of Organists national convention in Detroit. I was playing some Bach on Challis’s prototype pedal harpsichord when EPB arrived to try the instrument. Removing his shoes, he sat down to try it. The result, of course, became harpsichord history: Biggs ordered one on the spot and subsequently recorded several discs, ranging from popular musical favorites such as Saint-Saens’ The Swan to a full set of all six Bach trio sonatas on the newly acquired instrument.

Front page #5: In July 1979 there was much international celebration of Wanda Landowska’s centenary. Editor Arthur Lawrence agreed that we should join that observance, and that we needed to contact Landowska’s longtime companion and current resident of the pioneering harpsichordist’s last home in Lakeville, Connecticut, to ascertain if she might write a feature article for us. Denise Restout responded favorably, but informed us that she would need to be reimbursed for such a task. Since no contributors to The Diapason were paid at that point in its history, Arthur and I each contributed her fee from our own funds, and the magazine was well served! Ms. Restout not only provided the feature article for the front page (continued on pages 12–15), but she insisted, since she did not trust a young Pleyel harpsichord owner in Texas to write a proper description of such an instrument, that she herself should write that short but necessary article as well (pages 16–17).

Other featured articles included “Reminiscences of St. Leu” by Momo Aldrich, Landowska’s first private secretary, whom I met and interviewed extensively during many annual winter trips to visit her in Honolulu, where she had settled to be close to her daughter and grandchildren (pages 3 and 8). I contributed an extensive article about the two Landowska-inspired harpsichord concerti by Falla and Poulenc (pages 9–11) and the introduction on page 2 (“Happy Birthday, Wanda”). The result: Landowska was celebrated on thirteen of the twenty-four pages in our July publication.

Front page #6: Well, half a front page, actually. My report, “The Harpsichord at the Boston Early Music Festival and Exhibition,” shared the front page for August 1981 with Editor Arthur Lawrence’s report on the Montreal Organ Conference, “L’Orgue à notre époque.” And he had an organ photo! My report managed to display some harpsichord soundboard rosettes, reprinted by permission from the festival program book, as well as portraits of the two outstanding harpsichord recitalists on page 3: John Gibbons and Ralph Kirkpatrick.

Front page #7: A true festschrift to celebrate the seventieth birthday of master harpsichord builder William Dowd appeared in February 1992. By this time The Diapason sported actual front covers, which in this case featured a montage of four Dowd harpsichords (German, French, and Franco-Flemish doubles and a French single), with the builder’s King David and his harp logo in the middle of the very attractive layout approved by Editor Jerome Butera.

The idea for the celebratory edition was suggested by Dowd’s wife Pegram (Peggy) in conversation with me at a Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society (SEHKS) conference. She was a great help with contacts to the contributors, and together we assembled vignettes from fellow Coast Guard serviceman Fenner Douglass (who after World War II service became a much sought-after Oberlin Conservatory organ professor, and later, at Duke University), Dowd owners Albert Fuller, Frederick Hyde, David Fuller, Miles Morgan, Robin Anderson, Dowd shop foreman and distinguished jazz harpsichordist Donald Angle, soundboard painter Sheridan Germann, John Fesperman of the Smithsonian Institution, William Christie (who, having moved to France to “restore French Baroque opera to the French,” provided me with my first fax experience), Arthur Haas, Dirk Flentrop, Thomas and Barbara Wolf, Glenn Spring, and Gustav Leonhardt. A specially made caricature was created by Jane Johnson.

All these varied glimpses into Dowd’s life and legacy are fascinating, and they comprise a major contribution to the modern history of the American (and Parisian) development of harpsichords based on historic models. The last two, however, provide unique offerings: from composer Glenn Spring, a complete score of his winning Aliénor competition composition from 1990—William Dowd: His Bleu, the full score of which is included (centerfold, full size, four pages), referencing Dowd and Angle’s improvisations in the Cambridge shop as well as the color of the new Dowd at Walla Walla College where the composer was teaching at the time. It was a first for the harpsichord submissions to the magazine, but one that has been followed by at least one more harpsichord piece (Mulet’s Petite Lied).

All these tributes required ten pages, with another published a year later (February 1993) when the honoree contributed his one-page response, which the magazine graced with a second Jane Johnson caricature plus three photos of the honoree.

To end on a very high note, here is a sample of Gustav Leonhardt’s tribute:

Dowland and Purcell choosing their texts with William Dowd in mind

O how happy’s he, who from bus’ness free

Music for a while (Yes, a very good while,—since 1949)

While bolts and bars my days control[ed]  (The last two letters added by the editor make comment superfluous)

From silent night (Only since acquiring a telephone answering machine)

If my complaints could passions move (Deliver them at No. 100) . . .

If music be the food of love (Eat on) . . .

Flow my tears (For good humidification)

Lachrimae (The same, for another kind of customer) . . . .

For the rest of the text, consult page 20, The Diapason, February 1992, available at www.thediapason.com.

Editor’s note: all of the issues mentioned in Dr. Palmer’s column are available at our website, www.thediapason.com. Near the top left of the home page, click on “Magazine.” Under “Magazine Archive” on the next page, type the year desired and click “Apply.” The available months of that year’s issues will then appear. Click on the desired issue, and on the following page, click on PDF.

An analysis by Michael McNeil from data published in 2016 by William Drake, Ltd., Organbuilder

Michael McNeil has designed, constructed, and researched pipe organs since 1973. He was also a research engineer in the disk drive industry with twenty-seven patents. He has authored four hardbound books, among them The Sound of Pipe Organs, several e-publications, and many journal articles.

Editor’s note: The Diapason offers for the first time here a new feature at our digital edition—two sound clips. Any subscriber can access this by logging into our website (www.thediapason.com), click on Current Issue, View Digital Edition, scroll to this page, and click on <soundclip> in the text.

John Snetzler

By 1750 England had become a nation with a large middle class with an appetite for music and art performance. “It proved to be a magnet to foreigners such as Handel and J. C. Bach. It is no surprise at all to find a continental organbuilder making a substantial impact in England in the 1750s.”¹ John Snetzler, born in Schaffhausen, Switzerland, in 1710, may have arrived in London as early as 1740. His earliest known instruments date from 1742, one of them a chamber organ at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. According to Charles Burney, who knew Snetzler personally, he may have worked on Christian Müller’s famous organ at the Bavokerk in Haarlem, the Netherlands, during its construction in 1735 to 1738.² Although his stop nomenclature looks very much like normal English fare of the time, Snetzler’s sound is much bolder and brighter. This voicing style led to the development of true string tone in Snetzler’s Dulcianas.

Large contracts for English cathedrals eluded him, and Snetzler never achieved the fame of builders like Samuel Green. He produced many smaller chamber organs along with a few larger instruments. According to Bicknell, Snetzler may have been excluded by the remains of the Guild system.

“To claim that Snetzler cornered the market in chamber organs would be an exaggeration, although it is difficult to escape the conclusion that he led the field in re-establishing their popularity.”³ Bicknell was a gifted English writer, fully at ease in organbuilding technology, music theory, and historical context. His description of a chamber organ built by Snetzler in 1763 for Radburne Hall, Derbyshire, but now residing in Schaffhausen, Switzerland, gives a clear idea of Snetzler’s tonal concept:

A pedal raises and lowers the lid of the organ to provide a simple swelling device. In 1982 the organ was very clean and well preserved and still retained most of its original leather work. The pipes had been crudely torn to alter the tuning, but once repairs had been made it became clear that the instrument had been tuned in 1⁄4-comma meantone temperament or something very close to it. The effect, in the home keys, of the Fifteenth and the strong quint and tierce in the Sesquialtera and Cornet is astonishingly bold. The effect of playing a chord of C major, with the tutti very strongly coloured by dissonant intervals in the upperwork, is disconcerting. Moreover, the Stopped Diapason and Flute sound the unison rather weakly, with a very strong first harmonic (the octave quint). The result is that the notes of a G major triad are represented almost as strongly as those of C major. To analyse a chorus in this way is to challenge the very principles of organ tone, and it has to be accepted that the multiple dissonances and consonances found in a principal chorus actually produce a musical effect full of interest and colour. But here, with such a Spartan distribution of the harmonic components and heard at very close quarters the tonality of this or any other chord is highly ambiguous. However, as soon as it is put into musical context, all becomes clear, and the vigour and daring of Snetzler’s method is suddenly justified. The combination of boldly voiced mutations and shifting patters of consonance and dissonance (always a part of a performance on a keyboard instrument tuned to meantone temperament) highlights the harmonic structure of the composition played, and in particular emphasises modulations away from the home key. That home key will itself have its own colour, depending on how many sharps or flats it has. This tonal world is one that is almost completely unfamiliar to modern ears, despite the early music movement and interest in authentic performance: the insights it provides are well worth pursuing.⁴

Snetzler built a chamber organ in 1755 with one of his larger specifications, whose original provenance is unknown but today resides in Clare College, Cambridge, and has survived without significant alterations. The “vigour and daring of Snetzler’s method” can be heard in a Youtube recording of this organ (pre-restoration) of Bach’s Fugue in C Minor, BWV 575.⁵ <soundclip1 here> Although containing only one manual and no pedal, it extends in the English style of the time from GG, AA to f′′′, a compass that descends well into the 16′ octave. The performance of the fugue incorporates the use of this extended bass compass with revisions to the score to accommodate the original pedal line. The balances in the voicing allow all voices to be clearly heard and the emotional impact is startling.

Like other English builders of his time Snetzler used a form of meantone tuning (not heard in the Youtube recording), whose pure or nearly pure major thirds added significant gravity with their low resultants. The gravity of meantone tuning along with the extended manual bass compass goes a long way to explain why the lack of an independent pedal persisted in English organs well into the early nineteenth century.⁶ <soundclip2 here>

But what makes this particular organ most interesting is that it has been restored and documented in unprecedented detail by William Drake, Ltd., who have placed on their website descriptions, drawings, data, and photographs from which Snetzler’s work can be fully understood.⁷ This is no small achievement; organs are almost never documented in such detail.

Preface to the analysis

Good documentation of organs with enough pipe measurements to permit an analysis of both scaling and voicing is extremely rare. Pipe diameters, mouth widths, and mouth heights (cutups) may be found to some degree, but toe diameters and especially flueway depths are extremely rare. William Drake, Ltd.’s documentation of the 1755 Snetzler organ includes all of this and much more—detailed dimensions of the windchest and wind system that allow a full analysis of wind flow and wind dynamics, parameters having an enormous impact on the sound of an organ. A full narrative of the restoration in William Drake, Ltd’s. documentation includes the data that support the very few restorative changes made to the instrument, all of which were guided by carefully documented investigative work.

William Drake, Ltd., gives us a good model for documentation, where they have chosen to provide photographs and detailed hand drawings of the organ along with the important dimensions. While computer drawings are nice, most organbuilders do not have the time or funding to make them. If we want to see good documentation in print, we must also be willing to accept the lack of polish in hand drawings. The editorial staff of The Diapason has shown courage in their willingness to publish such drawings.

The data in this analysis are presented in normalized scales for inside pipe diameters, mouth widths, and mouth heights. Tables showing how raw data are converted into normalized scales may be found in the article on the E. & G. G. Hook Opus 322 published in The Diapason, July 2017, pages 17–19. The set of data and the Excel spreadsheet used to analyze the Snetzler may be obtained at no charge by emailing the author.⁸ Readers interested in a deeper understanding of the models used in the analysis may refer to the book The Sound of Pipe Organs.⁹

Pitch, temperament, wind pressure, and compass

The Snetzler organ is pitched at A = 422.5 Hz at 17.5 degrees Celsius. The current tuning is Young II temperament with indications of original meantone. The wind pressure, water column, is quite low at 51 mm (2 inches). The compass is GG, AA to f′′′. The organ has no pedal but derives bass tone from its extended manual compass, which with its lower pitch extends nearly a halftone below GG. The stops are divided bass and treble:

Bass, GG, AA to b

Sesquialtera (17–19–22)

Principal (4′, full compass)

Flute (4′)

Dulciana (8′, GG to F# grooved)

Diapason (8′)

Treble, c′ to f′′′

Hautbois (8′, expressive)

Cornett (8–12–17)

Fifteenth (2′, full compass)

Flute (4′)

Dulciana (8′)

Diapason (8′)

The wind system

The wind system can be modeled from two viewpoints: 1) the restriction of flow from the areas of the wind trunks, pallets, channels, and pipe toes, and 2) the dynamics of the wind. Wind dynamics are fully explained in The Sound of Pipe Organs and are a very important aspect of an organ’s ability to sustain a fast tempo with stability or enhance the grand cadences of historic literature. The superb data set on the Snetzler allows us to explore all of these characteristics. Figure 1 shows the Snetzler wind flow model.

In Figure 1 we see two lists of all of the stops with the pipe toe diameters for a note in each octave in the compass at the top and their calculated areas directly below. These toe areas are then added together (this is the first set of boxed values). The key channels must be sufficiently large to flow wind to these pipe toes, and the pallets activated by the keys must be sufficiently large to flow wind to the key channels.

A model for the total required wind flow of the full organ assumes a maximum of ten pallets (a ten-fingered chord) as described in the next line in the table, and the combined toe areas are multiplied by the number of these pallets played in each octave of the compass. Here we see that the sum of the flow of all of the pipe toes in the full organ (the next boxed value) is 2,982 mm².

Next in the table are values for the pallet opening lengths, the extent that the pallets are pulled open when a key is depressed (estimated from the ratios in the drawings), and the height and widths of the key channels that are fed wind by the pallets. These data allow us to calculate the relative wind flow of the channels (height times width), and we find that there are robust margins in the windflow from the channels to the pipe toes (see the boxed values of 201% at low GG to 549% at high c′′′).

Now we can calculate the flow of the pallets that feed the channels (the sum of the opening length and channel width times the pallet pull), and we find the ratio of the flow of the pallet openings to the channels (the next boxed values) is less robust and ranges from 88% in the bass to 187% in the high treble. The pallets still adequately flow wind to the bass pipes when we consider the more robust margins in channel flow. The estimate of the pallet pull may also be low. It is interesting to speculate that pallets that just barely flow the required wind to the channels may allow some degree of modulation of touch to the organist. Smaller pallets also require less force to open and are easier to play.

The next value, the area of the wind trunk, is 10,230 mm², and we see that the area of the wind trunk affords 3.4 times more wind than all of the pipe toes in the full organ, so much in fact that it does not function as an effective resistance in the system. Interestingly, the Isnard organ at St. Maximin uses the wind trunk as a strong resistor to dampen Helmholtz resonances in the wind system, and it has a ratio of wind trunk area to a plenum toe area of 1.07 for the coupled principal chorus of the Grand-Orgue and Positif (no reeds, flutes, or mutations). Helmholtz resonances are the source of what is normally called wind shake, and we might expect some mild wind shake with the Snetzler wind system with its large wind duct and low damping.

The underlying dynamics of a wind system are the result of its mass and volume. These factors produce a natural resonance that can enhance the grand cadences of literature with a long surge in the wind, or it can produce a nervous shake if it is too fast. A grand surge in the wind is characterized by a resonant frequency of less than 2Hz (cycles per second), and it is most often produced by a weighted wedge bellows. A nervous shake is characterized by much higher resonant frequencies, and it is produced by a sprung, vertical rise bellows with low mass. We correct the latter condition with small concussion bellows in modern organs, but the Snetzler wind system does not have such devices; instead, it features a weighted wedge bellows.

We can model the dynamic response of an organ by using its wind pressure, the area of the bellows plate, and the combined internal volume of its bellows, wind trunk, and pallet box. The model in Figure 2 shows the dynamic response of the Snetzler wind system at a relaxed 1.52 Hz, producing a wind surge of 0.66 seconds. William Drake, Ltd., found that the original wedge bellows had been modified to a vertical rise design, which the model shows would have resonated at about 2.26 Hz with 0.44 seconds surge, and they wisely restored the original design. The restorers found that with the wedge bellows, “The wind is lively but smooth and enhances the sound in a musically pleasing way.”⁷

The scaling

The Normal Scale of pipe diameters is a way to visualize relative power, where a flat line from bass to treble will produce relatively constant power. Pipes with data extending higher in the graph will produce more power. Each half tone on the vertical scale is worth 0.5 dB of power. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 8–32, for a discussion of the underlying theory and principles. The Snetzler metal principal chorus pipes have a constant scale where all pipes of the same pitch have the same diameter regardless of the stops in which they appear. Snetzler mildly increased his treble scales from about 1⁄2′ in pitch in Figure 3, a reflection of the smaller acoustics of chamber organs and less need to compensate for distance losses. The flute has wider treble scales. The Snetzler Dulciana descends dramatically; it shares the bass with the Diapason. The scales of the wood pipes are represented by their diagonals, not their relative areas; this represents the true power capability of the standing wave in the pipe, as pointed out by John Nolte, and correctly relates to metal pipes. The GG compass is represented by notations on the pitch axis as “10, 5, 2.5,” indicating rough approximations of the length in feet for the extended bass compass.

The Normal Scale of mouth widths operates just like the pipe diameters, where a flat line from bass to treble will produce relatively constant power. Pipes extending higher in the graph will produce more power. Each half tone on the vertical scale is worth 0.5 dB of power.

Mouth widths are nearly always a better indicator than pipe diameters of power balances; this is because mouth widths can be designed to vary considerably within the same diameters of pipes. Narrower mouths will produce less power, other voicing parameters like flueways and toe diameters being equal.

In Figure 4 we see that Snetzler greatly reduced the mouth widths of the 8′ Diapason and the 4′ Flute. The mouth width reduction of the Diapason in Figure 4 reduces the power to blend seamlessly into the tenor of the Dulciana; it also makes the upperwork seem relatively much more powerful. This example of the seamless blend of the Snetzler mouth widths for the Diapason and the Dulciana shows why it is often advantageous to use mouth widths, not diameter scales, to understand the balances of power in a chorus. The Dulciana has very narrow mouths consistent with its role as a soft string stop.

The voicing

Mouth height, or “cutup” as it is commonly called by voicers, is the primary means of adjusting the timbre of a pipe. Low cutups will create a bright tone with many higher harmonics while high cutups will produce smoother tone. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 68–80. It is not uncommon to find flute pipes cut as much as 12 half tones higher than principal pipes in classical pipe organs.

In the Normal Scale of mouth heights, a higher cutup value on the vertical scale will result in smoother tone. Cutups may be adjusted higher for two reasons: 1) the voicer wants a smoother timbre, or 2) the voicer wants more power at the same timbre. More power means more wind, and this means a larger toe or flueway opening to admit more wind. More wind will always produce a brighter tone, so the voicer can make a pipe louder and preserve the original timbre by opening the toe or flueway and raising the cutup until the timbre is restored.

Pipe toe diameters can be normalized (this is the “C” parameter in Figure 6) to the diameter of the pipe, the width of the mouth, and the depth of the flueway; larger values of “C” will admit more wind to the pipe. Readers may find the derivation of this normalization in The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 43–47.

Now we can understand the Snetzler graphs. In Figure 5 we see exceptionally low cutups in the bass that are low even for the very modest 51 mm. pressure. Snetzler’s use of bold nicking on the languids of the bass and mid-range pipes stabilizes the speech with such low cutups. This is consistent with the “slower” speech of Snetzler’s voicing, where the languids are kept high and the resulting timbre is brighter (the speech is not actually slower, just brighter—the pipes are slower to overblow to the octave on higher pressure).¹⁰ Gottfried Silbermann took this concept to an extreme with upper lips constructed to extend far in front of the flueway; this virtually required the voicer to raise the languid well above the edge of the lower lip, with the consequence that the timbre became very bright. Snetzler was more moderate in his use of this voicing technique.

But lower mouth heights can also be explained by reduced toe diameters, and we see very consistent and greatly reduced toe diameters for the Snetzler upperwork in Figure 6 where only the wood pipes of the 8′ Diapason and 4′ Flute have generous toes. As we will see later, those wood pipes also have reduced flueways. The reduction in toe diameters in Figure 6 reduces the wind pressure at the mouth of those stops, allowing the use of lower cutups.

Of interest in Figure 6 are Snetzler’s very reduced toes on the 8′ Dulciana stop. This is consistent with the very low mouth heights of this stop in Figure 5, giving the stop low power with significant harmonic overtone structure; Snetzler used box beards to stabilize the speech of the Dulciana. Taken together, this is a very powerful demonstration of Snetzler’s skills in scaling and voicing where he achieves good balances with the metal chorus pipes and the common bass with the Dulciana.

Like the pipe toe, flueway depth controls the flow of wind and strongly correlates to the power and the speed of the speech of the pipe. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 50–63 and 77–82.

In Figure 7 we see very generous flueways for the metal pipes of the Snetzler chorus, while the wood pipes and Dulciana have much more restrained flueways. In the chorus pipes Snetzler is controlling the power balances with scaling and toe diameters, not flueways, a technique more commonly found in classical French voicing. The reduced flueways of Snetzler’s wood Diapason and Flute are more typical of classical Germanic voicing, where power is controlled at the flueway rather than the toe. It is unusual to find a chorus with both voicing styles.

The languids are boldly nicked at an angle in the bass pipes progressing to finer nicks in the higher pitches and ultimately little or no nicking in the highest trebles. Ears are present on pipes up to 1-1⁄3′ pitch and absent at higher pitches. Upper lips are lightly skived to about one half of the metal thickness.

The flow of wind and power balances are controlled by the voicer at the toe and flueway of a pipe. The ratio of the area of the toe to the area of the flueway is important. If the area of the toe is less than the area of the flueway, which is a ratio less than “1,” the speech will be slower. “Slowness” in this instance does not refer to the voicer’s term (which reflects how the voicer adjusts the relative position of the languid and upper lip), but rather to the effect of resistances (toe and flueway areas) and capacitance (volume of the pipe foot) on the rate of the buildup of pressure at the mouth, which in turn affects the buildup of pipe speech to full power. Readers may refer to The Sound of Pipe Organs, pages 56–63 and 114–116, for a discussion of this very important musical characteristic. A well-knit chorus of pipes may have pipes that speak less promptly or pipes that speak more promptly, but never both; a chorus with both would have a confused and ill-defined attack. The effect here is subtle and measured in milliseconds, but the human ear is very sensitive to such fine variations.

The ratio is exactly “1” when the area of the toe and flueway are equal, and this is the normal lower limit for pipes with prompt speech; for example, the vast majority of the principal chorus pipes in the Isnard organ at St. Maximin in the range of 4′ to 1′ pitch exhibit a value of almost exactly “1,” with the highest pitches approaching a value of “3.”

The wood pipes of the 8′ Diapason and 4′ Flute in Figure 8 have ratios far in excess of “1,” and this is another way of looking at Snetzler’s technique for pushing these pipes harder with their narrower mouth widths and narrower flueways. In stark contrast, the Snetzler metal pipes have ratios trending at or well below a value of “1,” suggesting that they speak a bit less promptly. The recording made by Anne Page prior to the restoration demonstrates the full chorus and supports this conclusion. Slightly slower speech is not necessarily a defect, and it can be used to dramatic advantage.

Very rarely do we find anything in the organ literature about voicing, and very rarely do we find documentation with enough data to analyze the voicing of an organ. With William Drake, Ltd.’s data we can understand Snetzler’s voicing and tonal concepts in depth.

Further paths

This short essay cannot begin to do justice to the documentation done by William Drake, Ltd., on the Snetzler organ. Readers are encouraged to visit their website to view their wonderful PDF files.⁷ The casual reader can simply peruse the photos and notes to see what the inside of an eighteenth-century organ looks like. The motivated organbuilder can fully recreate the Snetzler sound from these notes. This is a gold standard of documentation.

Notes

1. Stephen Bicknell, The History of the English Organ, Cambridge University Press, 1996, Cambridge, p. 174.

2. Ibid, p. 174.

3. Ibid, pp. 203–204.

4. Ibid, pp. 204–206.

5. Anne Page, Fugue in C minor, BWV 575, www.youtube.com/watch?v=slgjVr97FLY. This is a pre-restoration recording made during the 2011–2012 time frame. The volume is set very low in this recording and should be turned up. It is important to keep in mind that the tuning has been modified from its original meantone to something much closer to modern equal temperament.

6. The gravity induced by meantone must be heard to be appreciated. The 1739 Clicquot organ at Houdan is tuned in meantone and may be heard to advantage in the superb new recording reviewed in The Diapason, July 2018, p. 15, Magnificat 1739, Regis Allard, available from www.editionshortus.com. This organ has no 16′ stops, but 16′ tone is strongly evident in the resultants of the pure major thirds.

7. William Drake, Ltd., The Restoration of the 1755 John Snetzler Organ at Clare College, Cambridge, PDF documents accessed August 16, 2016, www.williamdrake.co.uk/portfolio-items/clare-college-cambridge/.

8. The author’s email address is: [email protected].

9. Michael McNeil, The Sound of Pipe Organs, CC&A, 2012, Mead, 191 pp., Organ Historical Society and Amazon.com.

10. The History of the English Organ, p. 178, “Snetzler’s chorus consists of ranks all made to the same scale and voiced at the same power . . . . The speech of the individual pipes is significantly slower than that of earlier generations, and this encourages brightness (as well as facilitating the development of the new string-toned stops). Any tendency of the pipes to spit or scream is controlled by the consistent use of firm, slanted nicking on the languids of the pipes—a hallmark of Snetzler material.” Joost de Boer, the director of William Drake, Ltd., confirmed the use of higher languids and slower speech on the Snetzler pipes in a personal communication in 2018.