Regent Records

by Kay McAfee

Kay McAfee is professor of organ and music history at Henderson State University, Arkadelphia, Arkansas, and she serves there as organist for First United Methodist Church.

Twenty-four people traveled to the south and middle of England for the British Organ Music seminar, directed by Christina Harmon, the week of June 24, 2001. The great cathedrals of Winchester, Gloucester, and Liverpool formed part of the itinerary with guide John Norman, formerly of the Hill, Norman, and Beard firm, and now a consultant in Great Britain. Mr. Norman provided brochures and valuable commentary on each instrument prior to arriving at each destination. John Norman studied acoustics under Dr. R.W.B. Stephens at Imperial College, London, and organ under H.A. Roberts. At Hill, Norman, and Beard he learned voicing from Robert Lamb and tonal finishing from Mark Fairhead, working on seven cathedral organs before leaving the firm in 1974. An accredited professional organ consultant and a founding member of the Association of Independent Organ Advisers, Norman is a member of the Cathedrals Fabric Commission for England, of the Organs Committee of the Council for the Care of Churches, and the London Diocesan Advisory Committee for the Care of Churches. He is the author of The Organs of Britain, founder and editor of The Organbuilder, and has been a regular columnist for the Organists' Review for over twenty years.

Winchester

Traveling through the beautiful British countryside by bus, the first stop was Winchester, the ancient Roman city whose cathedral boasts the longest nave in Europe. Restored by King Alfred after the Dark Ages, two of the city's original gates are found around the perimeter of the 11th-century cathedral. The church sits in a sea of grass, and its massive thick-walled Roman-esque transepts and Gothic nave and apse protect the tombs of the early English kings. Jane Austen's tomb lies in the north aisle. Music historians are aware of the role played in the creative additions to ninth-century plainsong by the church in the preservation of the Winchester Troper, a manuscript which today is kept at Cambridge. The beautiful Winchester Bible, an illuminated manuscript, is preserved here. The twelve men of the choir, conducted by assistant organist Sarah Baldock, re-hearsed service music of Morales, Taverner, and Robert Stone pieces for the approaching Evensong service. Then, assistant organist Philip Scriven discussed the Henry Willis organ which was built for the Crystal Palace exhibition in 1851. Purchased at the urging of then-organist Samuel Sebastian Wesley, rebuilds and additions were made routinely by Willis, Heil & Co., and Harrison.

Most recently (1987), a division for the nave was added to create better support for congregational singing, a widespread practice in large English churches whose organ chambers were placed predominately on either side of the choir. Scriven demonstrated the Great Trumpet and Grand Cornet, reeds of the Pedal to 32', ringing 8' (two) and 4' Tubas on the Solo, Nave Trumpet, Great 16', 8', and 4' Trumpets, and the Swell reeds. The strings of the Swell (16', 8', 4') are particularly beautiful. Two Open Diapasons grace each of the four manual divisions, with a third on the Great. Scriven showed how any four of them sound lovely in playing the solo line of Bach's Orgelbüchlein setting of "Ich ruf zu dir." The Claribel Flute of the Great is like a harmonic flute. Participants observed the distinctly effective British practice of using a series of graduated pistons to produce crescendo and diminuendo. Participants played Elgar, Bridge, Wesley, Hollins, Handel, and Bach.

Bath Abbey

At Bath Abbey, organist and master of choristers Peter King explained the 1997 Klais organ, a rebuild of an 1868 William Hill/1895 Norman and Beard/

1914 Hill organ which sits in the north transept of the church. Few churches in England retain the organ atop the choir screen as is the situation at Westminster Abbey, Exeter, Gloucester, and King's College Chapel, and in many others, the screen has disappeared altogether. Since the late nineteenth century, the prevailing ideal has been to create an unobstructed view to the altar from the west door entrance, and many choir screens have been removed.

King told of the history of the 19th-century English Renaissance in church music and the symphonic organ required for the music of Stanford, Parry, and Elgar. Klais retained about half the pipes from the old organ and preserved the Hill, Norman, and Beard Positive division. Some of the 1895/

1914 tonal changes were reversed to revive the Hill sound ideal. The 1914 Thomas Jackson case was preserved. King played Bruhns, Mozart, Saint-Saëns, Ireland, and the Bach/Reger Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue.

Bristol

In Bristol at Saint Mary Redcliffe, a church constructed over a period of 200 years by merchants of the city, the entrance is through the north door of the porch, which dates from the 14th century. Only a fragment of the original medieval stained glass remains, the rest having been destroyed in the Reformation.

In 1726, the firm of Harris and Byfield built an organ which featured one of the country's first pedalboards with an octave permanently coupled to the Great. The present instrument by Harrison (1911) is considered one of the finest examples of that firm's work and of the Edwardian ideal. It fills three chambers on either side of the choir. Rebuilt in 1990 with few additions other than the upperwork and the console, the organ comprises 71 stops on four manuals. The tonal palette features a Double Open Wood 32' and Open Wood 16' of the Pedal, Corno di Bassetto of the Choir, and Cor Anglais, Orchestral Oboe, and Vox Humana (normally of the Solo division) and a complement of 16', two 8', and 4' reeds on the Swell. The Great Harmonics mixture includes a flat 21st which was peculiar to Arthur Harrison's design. Organist Anthony Pinell played a Ropartz Prelude, a Howells Psalm Prelude, and Fugue on the name Alain by Duruflé. He then assisted participants who played Honegger, Taverner, Howells, and Elgar on this lovely instrument.

Gloucester

Gloucester Cathedral, containing the tomb of King Edward II, was the site of a small Anglo-Saxon monastery until the 11th century, when it became a Benedictine monastery. The present building, ordered by William the Conqueror, dates from 1089. In 1541, the church became the cathedral for Gloucester. The massive Norman pillars of the nave bear red marks from a 13th-century fire. The choir vault is 14th-century perpendicular Gothic style. King Henry II was crowned there as a boy of 9 in 1216, the only monarch ever to be crowned outside of London.

Evensong canticles, Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis, were by Herbert Murrill, with responses by Walsh. The anthem was Herbert Howells' "Like As The Hart." David Briggs, organist of Gloucester Cathedral, improvised the opening voluntary and later chatted about the organ. It is one of a few remaining atop the choir screen and has a long history of adaptations. It has been over the screen since 1715. The 1640 Robert Dallum chair case on the east side of the screen is all that remains of that organ. Thomas Harris built an instrument in 1665 which contained the earliest mixture stop in Britain--200 pipes of that organ remain today. In 1831, J.C. Bishop added pedal pipes, among them a Flute 16' which is possibly the widest scale Pedal Open in Britain. Father Willis contributed to the organ in 1847 and 1888 as did Harrison and Harrison in 1920. Hill, Norman, and Beard restored the organ and electrified the console in 1971 to create one of the most rapid key-responses of any organ anywhere. With the 2000 restoration by the firm of Nicholson, the organ today can be described as neo-Baroque. Briggs mentioned that most English cathedral organs are rebuilt every 20 years or so "in the fashion" of the day. Henry Willis added a pedalboard. The last rebuild made it a Romantic instrument. Harrison & Harrison changed the voicing but kept all of the pipes. The organ has a grand, rolling sound. Briggs demonstrated the seven stops which remain of the Harris organ of 1665: Great Diapasons (one facing east, one west), two 4' Principals, 12th and 15th, and Choir 4' Principal. Briggs described the foundations as "throwing down to the 16'," perhaps because there are many high cut-ups and not much nicking of the pipes. There are nine seconds of reverberation in the nave when it is empty. Briggs played the Symphonie Passion of Dupré, Fantasie and Fugue in G Minor of Bach, and a long, multi-movement improvisation of symphonic scope based upon a hymn tune. One of his generation's most gifted at improvisation, Briggs then delighted his hearers by improvising in the style of other dazzling exponents of this art: Hakim, Latry, Cochereau, Lefebvre.

Hereford

Traveling through the rich Wye valley with its beautiful truck farms and fruit orchards, we arrived at Hereford, the last cathedral town before the Welsh border. The Romanesque cathedral church contains a late-19th-century Henry Willis built at a time when the firm was copying the tonal design of Cavaillé-Coll.

Of 4 manuals and 67 stops, the 1933 Willis rebuild features a console with couplers on tablets which are below the music rack (a copy of the American design). The pedal contains a 32' Double Open Bass, the Great a Double Open Diapason 16' and three 8' Diapasons, and the Swell a Contra Gamba 16'; the powerful reeds are on high wind pressure, and the wide-scale flues have "stringy" tops. With painted pipes which are often described as looking like "rolls of linoleum," the organ is not much altered from the Willis original. John Norman's firm electrified the console in 1978, the rebuild of which was funded by a local cider maker. Peter Dyke, assistant organist and acting principal organist, spoke of former organists John Bull and S.S. Wesley. He then played Purcell, Wesley's "Air and Gavotte," and the theme and two variations of the Brahms/Rogg Variations on a Theme of Haydn.

Every year, the prestigious Three Choirs Festival is held here with performers located at the west entrance and facing the audience which is seated facing the west entrance. Dyke called our attention to an organ which sits on a wheeled platform in the south aisle. For ease of the organist's sightline, the organ is wheeled to the next bay when the festival conductor's position moves eastward as the choral and accompanying ensemble personnel change.

Birmingham

The group then arrived at Birmingham's Symphony Hall which is part of an arts complex built in the late 1980s. The German firm of Klais was installing a large instrument in this beautiful facility. The interior is surely a sister-hall to the Meyerson in Dallas, so alike are the two. At the time the building was constructed, Simon Rattle was artistic director and conductor of Birmingham's famously fine orchestra, and a poster outside the hall featured a large photo of Rattle with two organ pipes, the feet of which extend sideways from his mouth. Wide-eyed, he appealed for donations for the organ. The Klais firm won the contract in 1989. The group enjoyed taking lunch with Philipp Klais, grandson of the firm's founder and a gracious, personable man of great enthusiasm. He considers his firm's "invasion" of England for restoration and new-instrument contracts a great honor. As participants settled into the audience seats of the concert hall, Klais recalled that many "firsts" were achieved by the British: the Swell Box, the modern bellows system, over-blowing flutes, and double-mouthed pipes. As his crew worked behind him, Klais explained that the organ for the Birmingham Hall would be of four manuals and 82 stops with inauguration scheduled for October, 2001. Thomas Trotter and the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra presented three concerts on Friday and Saturday, October 19 and 20. Only the façade was built for the opening of the facility some 11 years ago. Two consoles, one of tracker and the other of electric action, are provided, allowing one of them to be placed within the orchestra. Klais mentioned that he had visited the Meyerson Center in Dallas to study the acoustical properties there. His firm has recently installed a symphony hall instrument in Singapore and will construct another in Madison, Wisconsin.

Lichfield

Next, at Lichfield Cathedral, which sits in a lovely close surrounded by old and new buildings, Andrew Lumsden, organist and master of choristers, talked of the education and appointment of organists for large English churches. Rarely is the number 2 or number 3 organist elevated through the ranks, an exception being John Scott at St. Paul's London. Lumsden was educated at Saint John's College and was number 2 at Westminster Abbey for a time. The duties of Master of Choristers used to include the teaching of Latin and Greek. The choir schools, and the advent of girls' choirs, are enormously expensive.

The original instrument before the present Hill organ of 1884 was on the choir screen and was purchased by Josiah Spode of the pottery-making family. The Hill instrument was placed on the north transept and the pipes of that organ survive into the current one, a 4-manual instrument placed on either side of the choir. A Baroque choir organ was added in 1973-74 and a recently completed 4-million pound refurbishment by Harrison added the nave organ. The Great reeds are on a separate chest under high wind pressure, and there is a wonderful Edwardian Tuba and massive pedal reeds. Lumsden played the Bach "Liebster Jesu" with choir Cornet and Great Open Diapason, Widor Symphonie V "Adagio" with foundations and strings, and Guilmant's March on a Theme of Handel.

Liverpool

The great industrial city of Liverpool was the last stop before returning to London. Ian Tracey, organist for both Saint George's Hall and the Cathedral, treated us to a well-articulated history of both structures and their instruments. Saint George's Hall is a magnificent civic monument to nineteenth-century British pride and opulence. Built in the 1840s for music festivals, the interior was copied after the Baths of Caracalla in Rome and even displays Roman military insignia on its guilded interior doors. A magnificent marble floor is now covered by wood but is revealed on special occasions, increasing the considerable reverberation by two seconds.

S.S. Wesley directed the building of the Henry Willis organ in 1855. Willis was barely 30 at the time and this organ established his reputation. The instrument featured 100 stops, the first radiating concave pedalboard, stop jambs angled towards the player, and thumb pistons. Rebuilds occurred in 1897 and 1931. The organ was dismantled after a bomb damaged the building in 1940. Many pipes were stolen, and in 1957 Henry Willis IV reconstructed the organ. Since 1989 it has been cared for by the David Wells company, with a campaign now on to further restore the organ. Today it has 120 stops, including two percussions. It still retains a classical English Great Mixture and wide scaled Diapasons.

About 200 people will attend organ recitals at any given time. At Christmas, some 1700 people congregate to enjoy dinner parties and carol singing. At other times, Tracey continues the tradition of playing the 1812 Overture while the audience provides the bell and cannon effects. In the 19th century, W.T. Best, notable for his orchestral transcriptions, would play concerts for school children and for adults, who were charged but a farthing to hear the organ. Once, a woman dressed in black appeared in Best's peripheral vision while he played a Spohr overture. He shooed her away. It was Queen Victoria. George Thalben-Ball was organist here for a time. Tracey played a Purcell March to feature the Tuba Mirabilis and double-leathered Diapason, Thalben-Ball's Elegy, and the Bossi Scherzo.

Liverpool Cathedral contains the largest organ in England. Like the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., Liverpool Cathedral took most of the twentieth century to construct. Like Saint Paul's in London, the church became a national symbol of British fortitude during WWII as Churchill ordered the work to continue on the tower even as Liverpool endured saturation bombing by the Germans. Begun in 1904 and completed in the 1980s, the enormity of the structure is magnified because the nave is very wide, there is an unobstructed view from entrance to altar (1/8 mile), there are two sets of transepts, and the arches under the tower soar to 175 feet. 4000 people can congregate here, as they did when the Queen consecrated the Cathedral in 1978. Giles Gilbert Scott, 18 years old at the time, won the competition for the design. He also designed the Bank Side Power Station (now the new Tate Gallery) in London and the University Library at Cambridge. Henry Willis designed the instrument to accommodate the organist, Henry Goss-Custard, and his considerable gifts for orchestral sonorities. There are 147 speaking stops, 47 of which are reeds, including those on 30 and 50 inches of wind pressure. There are 10 ranks of mixtures on each manual, mutations, and clarinet, bassoon, and flutes, all of which are much more subtle than those at Saint George's Hall. The huge organ is mounted on both sides of the choir and faces into the nave, held up by massive load-bearing piers that were designed to hold two 200-foot towers which were never built.

Little of the organ is changed today, but in 1989 a new moveable console was provided. Tracey demonstrated the five beautiful Open Diapasons of the Great, played the Tournemire Te Deum, Joel Martinson's Aria, and his own transcription of two movements of the Respighi Pines of Rome. Participants played Karg-Elert, Widor and Mulet.

London: Temple Church

Returning to London, participants were greeted by James Vivian, organist at Temple Church, where George Thalben-Ball was organist for over 60 years.  The present organ, a 1927 Harrison & Harrison, was a gift of Lord Glentanner, in whose Scottish castle ballroom it was originally placed. Moved to the church in 1954, a Double Ophicleide was added. In 1989, Harrison revised the Great Mixture and lowered the Great reeds from 15 to 7 inches of wind pressure. The original instrument, a 1684 instrument of 23 stops, was the first 3-manual organ in England. The Echo division (a forerunner of the Swell) had a short compass to Middle C. This and subsequent instruments and their restorations were destroyed in 1941.

Saint Paul's Cathedral

At Saint Paul's Cathedral, the 5 p.m. Eucharist was sung by the choir, with service music by Harold Darke and Introit by Palestrina (Tu es petra). Andrew Reed, the number 2 organist, played for the service. After the church emptied, Huw Williams, assistant organist, led us to the choir loft to demonstrate the 1872 Father Willis organ. Today it is of 108 stops in three parts: the main organ on either side of the choir, the west entrance Trumpet en Chamade and Diapason chorus, and the Quarter Dome Northeast division of 3 tubas and a Tuba Militaire. Willis had split the original Bernard Smith organ of 1697 (a double-sided instrument located on the choir screen) and moved it to its present location on either side of the choir. The case was designed by the architect of the church, Christopher Wren. Willis claimed first use of tubular pneumatic action in this organ. From 1897 to 1900, Willis expanded the Pedal, the pipes of which lie horizontally on the north side of the choir. From 1925 to 1930 the organ was moved to the Wellington monument bay as it was feared that the dome was unstable. Restored in 1960, 1972, and 1977, windchests and other parts of the organ received major overhauls. The Mander company added Diapasons to the quarter dome division. The Swell is particularly fine, an example of an early Willis classic Swell, not deep in the case, and equal to the Great. Williams played Stanford, Howells, and Bossi to demonstrate the colors and families of stops. The finale was Grand Choeur Dialogué by Gigout in which the Royal Trumpets sounded antiphonally with the main organ.

Afterwards, the group proceeded to Saint Helen Bishopgate, near Saint Paul's, where John Norman was the consultant for a new organ. The original instrument was destroyed by an IRA bomb in the 1980s.

Saint Margaret Lothbury

Saint Margaret Lothbury, a small church nestled next to the Bank of England, was our next stop. We were greeted by Richard Townend, who is resident recitalist at Saint Margaret Lothbury and music director for Holy Trinity Church at Sloane Square. Townend was a choirboy at Westminster Abbey and sang for the funeral of Ralph Vaughan Williams in 1958. He studied at the Royal College of Music with Harold Darke and Herbert Howells, and in Switzerland with Lionel Rogg and Guy Bovet. He is also director of music for the Hill House school, which Prince Charles attended.

Saint Margaret Lothbury was designed by Christopher Wren and built after the great fire of 1666. In danger of collapse, it was rebuilt in the 1970s. An organ of two manuals was placed in the west gallery in 1801 by G.P. England and a Choir division was added in 1845 by James Butler. In 1881 Bryceson moved the whole organ to the gallery and added the treble case from the church of St. Mildred Poultry. In 1938, Hill, Norman and Beard added a large Great Open Diapason and discarded the Great Mixture. The console was electrified and detached from the case. In 1983-84, J.C. Bishop and Son, under the direction of John Budgen and Richard Townend, completely reconstructed the organ, restoring the case to its original form. The remaining stops by England and James Butler have been incorporated in a new instrument built in the style of the original. Both Felix Mendelssohn and S.S. Wesley played here.

In 1830, the organ at St. Margaret Lothbury featured the first addition of the bottom 12 notes of pedals in England. It contains warm Open and quiet Stopped Diapasons. According to Townend, the instrument is a quintessential British organ, of "polite" sound and singing quality, but not built for playing polyphony. The Great 4' Flute "bubbles up." In English music whenever a flute is called for, it means a 4' Flute. There is an "elderly" Trumpet. The classic English chorus is 8' Open Diapason, 4' Principal, Twelfth, Fifteenth, and Mixture. The English Cornet is of 3 ranks: 8', 4', 22/3'. The Swell is soft--the Great louder. Adding the Trumpet to the Cornet gives a "Frenchy Grand Jeu." The Cremona with metal resonators, fatter than the French Cromorne, is for solo melodies.

Westminster Abbey

The group attended Evensong at Westminster Abbey to hear responses by Aylesbury, Magnificat and Nunc dimittis by Howells, and an anthem by Stanford. Afterwards, Stephen LePrevost, assistant organist, spoke briefly of the organ as playing time was limited. The organ is a 1937 rebuild by Harrison & Harrison of a William Hill instrument from 1848 and 1884. The first instrument was by the firm of Schrider & Jordan in 1727. The choir Stopped Flute and 4' Flute are reputedly from the Jordan instrument. The Bombarde division was added by Simon Preston and features the borrowing of reeds from the Great and Solo manuals. Participants played Howells, Tournemire, Handel, and Walton.

Westminster Cathedral

The imposing Roman Cathedral of Westminster, loosely based on the design of St. Mark's in Venice, was built in 1901. Past the nave with its three domes, the group gathered in the choir loft which is behind the high altar. Martin Baker, organist of Westminster Cathedral, explained that it costs around $400,000 per year to maintain the choir school. The sound of the famous choir is more "continental," rather than that of the British "hooty" sound. 95% of the music is in Latin, and the boys actually have trouble singing in English after learning the Italianate Latin vowel sounds. The Apse Organ of two manuals accompanies the choir. The large Willis Grand Organ in the west gallery is playable from the Apse Organ through setting pistons from the Grand Organ, but the two-second delay takes some getting used to.

Walking down the south triforium gallery towards the west gallery, we stopped at a bay close to the Great Organ. Comparable to the Liverpool instrument, it was built by Henry Willis III and rebuilt by Harrison in 1984. It features a Double Diapason 16' and three Open Diapasons on the Great. There is a Double Open Bass 32' and Open Bass and Open Diapason 16' in the Pedal. The Swell and Solo both contain beautiful orchestral reeds: Waldhorn, Cor Anglais, French horn, and Corno di Bassetto. The Cor de nuit celestes on the Choir are velvety and beautiful. In 1976, Stephen Cleobury directed the raising of the Apse Organ and part of the Great Organ to concert pitch. In 1985, David Hill, who began the Grand Organ Festival, had all of the Great Organ raised to concert pitch. Baker improvised on "Adoro te devote," and participants played Stanford, Parry, and Mulet.

London options

On July 1, with several Sunday service choices in London, one group of participants returned to Westminster Cathedral for a Festival Mass in celebration of the centennial anniversary year of the church. Kyrie, Gloria, and Agnus Dei, sung by the choir, were by Widor. The anthem was Parry's "I Was Glad," accompanied by both the Great Organ and the Apse Organ. The congregation sang the rest of the Latin Mass from printed plainsong. The 1700 seats of the nave were full. At Richard Townend's church, Holy Trinity at Sloane Square, an orchestra accompanied a Mozart Mass and a youth choir from Alaska participated.

Afternoon choices included hearing recitals at Saint Paul's (John Scott), Westminster Cathedral (Martin Baker), and Westminster Abbey. Participants practiced for and played a recital at Holy Trinity church at 7:00 p.m. Open to the parishioners and public, the program featured music by Walond, Lang, Howells, Rutter, Thalben-Ball, and Vierne. The interior of the church, an arts-and-crafts-Gothic design, features a breathtaking window above the altar which was the largest window ever built by the William Morris Company. Its beautiful stained-glass images were designed by pre-Raphaelite painter Edward Burne-Jones. J.W. Walker & Sons built an organ here in 1891 which was almost totally destroyed during WWII. It was rebuilt in 1966 by Walker, and Simon Preston inaugurated the instrument in 1967.

The British Organ Music Seminar provides participants access to great instruments and their artist-curators. For those unfamiliar with the vast repertoire of British organ music, especially that of the 19th and early 20th century, playing these works on the instruments for which they were conceived is a revelation. The reverberation of the environment, the velvety Diapasons, the exquisite Swell divisions with their strings and orchestral reeds, and the fire of the British tubas resonates long after the experience is past. The hospitality of our hosts was among the finest. At many venues, the church's staff provided a meal, either in the undercroft, or a parlor, or in a great hall. Such is what creates memories surrounding the experience of beautiful music and instruments.           

William Kuhlman is Professor of Music at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa, where he has taught since 1969. He is currently director of the Luther College Study Abroad program located in Nottingham, England. He is a member of Concert Artists Cooperative.

The twenty-third International Organ Festival was held at Saint Albans Cathedral and Abbey from July 7–16, 2005. The festival, which began in 1963, was the brainchild of Peter Hurford, Master of Music at St. Albans from 1958–78, who with his wife Patricia was inspired by the installation of the 1962 Harrison & Harrison organ, co-designed by Peter Hurford and Ralph Downes, in the cathedral. This exhilarating week of organ, choral, multi-media, symphonic and chamber events set the City of St. Albans abustle with activity and provided a welcome environment for visitors from the U.K. and abroad.

Friday

Friday’s opening event featured David Briggs, a recent addition to the New York City organ community and former winner of the improvisation competition at St. Albans in 1993. The evening was devoted to a showing of Cecil B. DeMille’s silent film “The King of Kings.” For almost two straight hours, Mr. Briggs provided soaring and majestic improvised accompaniments. This presentation to an audience of over one thousand proved to be the perfect marriage of music to the on-screen drama. Briggs’s improvisations not only reflected but enhanced the action on screen in a dramatic and powerful way reminiscent of Dupré at times, Messiaen, Cochereau and Langlais (one of his mentors) at others.

Saturday

Undaunted by his exhausting evening twelve hours prior, Briggs demonstrated the small three- to 12-stop pipe organs on exhibition in the north transept of the cathedral. Once again, he was brilliant, serving up a smorgasbord of improvisations appropriate to the size and voicing of each of the nine instruments, some in Renaissance style, others in modern variation forms, and still others in spirited and delightful sorties à la Louis Vierne. One of the most ingenious of all the demonstrations was improvised on two adjacent Vincent Woodstock twins of three stops each, placed at right angles to each other and played simultaneously by Briggs with one hand on each organ. The last demo was on the largest of the nine organs heard, this one by Harrison & Harrison: a spirited excursion into “Three Blind Mice” en stile Jehan Alain by a master improviser riding the crest of his triumph the previous evening and obviously enjoying every minute of it.

The final session of the morning was an illustrated talk by the cathedral organist at Southwell entitled “Painted Pipes Make Merrier Music” tracing the history of English organ case decoration.

Ludger Lohmann, one of the competition jurists, played an afternoon recital on the II/26 Peter Collins “Silbermann Organ” at St. Saviour’s Church in town. The beautiful Romanesque lines and elegant bricked columns made for a particularly apt setting for his fine performance in a tidy acoustic—transparent and articulate renditions of Bach’s Pièce d’Orgue, Fantasie BWV 562, and Trio Sonata No. 5; the de Grigny Veni Creator and Mozart K. 608 were given polished and elegant readings as well.

Evening Prayer was beautifully sung by the Men and Abbey Girls Choir directed by Simon Johnson with organist James Davy. The highlight was a stunning rendition of the James MacMillan setting of Christus Vincit. Special prayers for the victims and families of the disaster in London the previous Thursday were said.
Even with a chorus of 236 singers and hundreds of previously heard performances, a fresh Messiah staging can be a revelation. Heard in the bright, present acoustic of St. Albans Cathedral under the direction of Andrew Lucas, such was the case. Hearing Messiah 998 years after this grand Norman structure was begun was a musical highlight of Festival 2005. By the second chorus, occasional problems with togetherness had been rectified by Maestro Lucas, and despite the rather large forces, choruses were rendered in a light buoyant style in which consonants rang out clearly and precisely. This was a visceral and gutsy performance—no holds barred, make no mistake about it, as the rendering of the Hallelujah Chorus well proved. The singing from both soloists and chorus was at once elegant and controlled but enthusiastically glorious.

Sunday

The Service of Commemoration on Sunday morning July 10 was a profoundly impressive service honoring the sixtieth anniversary of the end of World War II, which was celebrated the previous week throughout the United Kingdom. Included were emotional recollections from two men and one German woman recalling the sacrifice and horror of war and their life experiences of sixty years ago. Beautiful renditions by the Cathedral Choir of Men and Boys included the John Ireland anthem “Greater Love Hath No Man” and moving performances of the Walton Te Deum, “God Save the Queen” (sung with gusto by all), and the postlude played by organist Simon Johnson, Bach’s BVW 548, the “Wedge.”

Former organist and choirmaster at St. Paul’s, London, and more recently appointed to a similar post at St. Thomas Church, New York City, John Scott was the second jury member in concert Sunday afternoon in St. Albans Cathedral. Langlais’ La Cinquième Trompette (1973) was written during the composer’s convalescence from a near-fatal illness. This seldom-played and extraordinary piece was well-performed by John Scott on the colorful and powerful 75-rank Harrison & Harrison. Two chorale preludes from Clavierübung III, “These Are Thy Holy Ten Commands” and “Jesus Christ Our Savior,” came off nicely in clear and transparent registrations, the first lovingly rendered, the second dancing along in a great flight. Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in A minor, BWV 543, was played with appropriate doses of freedom and flexibility. The Mendelssohn “Andante with Variations in D” was published posthumously not long after Mendelssohn’s death in 1847. Percy Grainger’s “Handel in the Strand” certainly livened up the afternoon and warmed Mr. Scott to the crowd. Based in part on Handel’s tune “The Harmonious Blacksmith,” it was reminiscent of a piece the great Reginald Foort may have knocked off on one of his Sunday afternoon concerts in a town hall 60 or 70 years ago. Composer Ad Wammes’ Miroir is a delightful minimalist piece creating a hypnotic effect akin to dancing rays of light reflected in glass with little wisps of melody sneaking in the left hand part over the 140 bars of ostinato. The rhythmically dynamic and exhilarating Fanfare by one of Scott’s mentors, Kenneth Leighton, concluded the afternoon’s program. Oddly enough, this is a little-known and under-played piece in the U.K., since it was published in America and has never been easily available in the British Isles. It was played with the affection one might expect from Scott, a former choirboy in Leighton’s Wakefield Men and Boys in the late 1960s.

The Sunday Evensong was exquisitely sung by the Men and Boys of St. Albans featuring Shepherd’s service setting, hymns by C. Hubert H. Parry and C. H. Monk, and a particularly wonderful reading of Phillip Moore’s anthem “All Wisdom comes before the Lord.” One can only be impressed and filled with admiration at the precocious spirit of this superbly trained ensemble under Andrew Lucas’ expert leadership. Considering that this was the second service of the day for the boys, and the third in 24 hours for the men, one can appreciate the energy, talent and discipline of this and other choirs like it. The amazing feature of the St. Albans ensemble is that they are not part of a choir “boarding school” but rather are brought back and forth by committed and diligent parents for the nearly two hours of rehearsal each day, in addition to an extended Friday evening rehearsal of over two hours. The Dean of the Cathedral, the Very Reverend Dr. Jeffrey John, preached a fine sermon on “Music,” pointing out that if religious music lacks the power to ignite something inside of you beyond a nice warm glow, it can only be considered “religious wallpaper.” As usual, the organist Simon Johnson got a workout playing nearly nonstop the entire 35 minutes plus the Vierne First Organ Symphony opening movement for the pièce de sortie. His playing came to be highly regarded throughout the festival.

An ancillary event offered to festival participants and townsfolk was a performance of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Trial by Jury, presented by the Regeneration Theatre Company at the old 19th-century court house in the middle of town, historic scene of many a banishment to Australia in the nineteenth century for petty (and not so petty) crimes. It proved to be a perfect setting for this lively and energetic production by this young and vibrant company and lent a new wrinkle to the phrase “high camp.”

Monday

On Monday, and the other weekdays, interpretation and improvisation semi-finals were held with nineteen competitors playing for the five-member international jury.

The “Three Choirs” concert on Monday evening brought in yet another full house, packing the cathedral to overflowing. Featured were the Men and Boys choirs of Winchester, Durham and St. Albans cathedrals. The “Battle of the Choirs” began with a beguiling rendition of Tallis’ rarely sung Loquebantur varlis linguis sung from the presbytery, followed by a processional sung in multi-phonic alternatim style on Iste Confessor Domini interspersed with organ settings by Tallis and Redford once again played by the masterful Simon Johnson. Winchester followed with a playful and spirited performance of Byrd’s Haec dies and a vibrant setting of Laudi alla beata vergine by James MacMillan.

It would seem unfair to compare the three choirs, each with their own personality, some with a more “forward” and soprano-dominant sound, and others with all components in sync. Suffice it to say that Andrew Lucas’ St. Albans Men and Boys bathed us once again in sumptuous choral sound in their renditions of the Brahms Geistliches Lied and Michael Tippett’s setting of the American spiritual Steal Away. The unconventional and highly difficult setting of Tippett’s Spanish fiesta-inspired Magnificat was sung by all three choirs as the first half came to a festive conclusion. The piece was commissioned in 1961 for the 450th anniversary of the founding of St. John’s College, Cambridge.

Following the interval, the boys from the three choirs once again showed their stuff in a wonderfully rhythmic performance of the Britten Missa Brevis. The forty-plus men of the choirs then dug aggressively into a gutsy and forbidding setting of Gombert’s Magnificat Tertii et Octavi Toni. Jonathan Harvey’s piece entitled Toccata for Organ and Tape from the 1980s was a typical genre piece from that era, demonstrating the undying fascination composers had for combining the pings and poofs possible by combining these two sound sources.
Andrew Lumsden (Winchester) brought the three choirs together a second time in William Harris’s a cappella setting of Bring Us, O Lord God with poetry by John Donne. The celestial ending of the work and the great polish and richness overall exuded feelings of warmth and fondness for text brought by Victorian and post-Victorian composers like Harris (1883–1973).

James Lancelot (Durham Cathedral) brought the evening to a thrilling and fitting ending of a magnificent display of choral music at its most glorious with Howells’s Te Deum (Collegium Regale) written in 1944 for Boris Ord and the King’s College Choir of Men and Boys.

Tuesday

The evening concert on July 12 by Peter Hurford and The Swingle Singers proved to be pleasant enough for some audience members, but was overall an unexciting evening of old Swingle war-horses and “signature” pieces. The vocal dexterity and impeccable technique that is a Swingle trademark was marred by problems with both intonation and accuracy. Following “spot-on” choral singing by the previously heard choirs, the Swingles seemed under-rehearsed and unsure of themselves much of the time.

Peter Hurford managed to bail the evening out of complete disaster with some nice performances of Orgelbüchlein favorites in two different groupings, followed in each case with Swinglized renderings. He dashed off the “St. Anne” prelude as well as the “little” G-minor fugue and the Alain Litanies with his usual professionalism. This great artist and treasure of the international organ world celebrated his 75th birthday on St. Cecilia’s Day 2005.

Wednesday

Wednesday evening brought the Royal College of Music Junior Department Symphony Orchestra from London to town. The level and training of this fine ensemble of student musicians showed that they had the “right stuff” from the first note forward. The opulence of their sound bloomed (almost too much) in the rich and present acoustic of the St. Albans nave. But what was lacking in orchestral polish was compensated by the insatiable energy, enthusiasm and obvious love for playing as exemplified initially in a reading of the wonderful occasional music from Peter Grimes by Britten.

Despite some expected difficulty in keeping orchestra and organ together due to the great spatial separation between organ and ensemble, the first movement of the Guilmant Organ Symphony #1, played by Jane Watts and the Symphony under Richard Dickin’s able baton, rang dramatic and triumphal. The Harrison & Harrison once again proved a worthy partner to the RCM Symphony in a pleasant and agreeable reading of the second movement. The third movement brought to a thrilling conclusion this marvelous collaboration.

Following the interval, Elgar’s Enigma Variations were given a fabulous performance by these aspiring young artists. Like our young musicians at Interlochen and honors orchestras scattered about America, these students will form the nucleus for the next generation of professional orchestral musicians worldwide. When one hears groups like this perform so brilliantly, one can only wonder at the political or educational thinking that leads to elimination of instrumental music and arts program from American public schools.

Thursday

Thursday was the “Royal Academy of Music” day for those who opted to go down to London. We were greeted upon arrival by David Titterington, head of organ studies at the R.A.M., who began our day in the elegant 400-seat Duke’s Hall with a cordial welcome and outline of the day’s planned activities. Only the Weimar conservatory and the Liszt Academy in Budapest are older than the Royal Academy, founded in 1822. Beautiful portraiture and sculpture of important figureheads at the R.A.M. such as Sir David Lumsden, Sir Henry Wood and the Wesleys adorn the side walls. Elton John was cited as a graduate and a major supporter of the academy’s programs.

We heard some excellent playing of Franck and Langlais by academy organ students Jessica Cottis and Joe Fort on the wonderful 1993 Van den Heuvel. The organ was built in the Cavaillé-Coll style with a case modeled on the Trocadero case in Paris.

The David Josefowitz Recital Hall provided a perfect venue for the performance of early Italian organ music by the Piden Organ Fellow at the Royal Academy, Riccardo Bonci. The organ, a 1763 Italianate instrument, was a major find by the Academy. The instrument, originally thought to be from Naples, was lovingly restored in Florence by Riccardo Lorenzini who was undaunted by its wretched condition upon discovery in a Rome apartment. The case was restored by artists in the National Gallery in Florence. The 1' rank was discovered to be from the year 1590. A nightingale and bagpipe stops were added although not original to the organ. The tuning is meantone.

We heard Frescobaldi’s Toccata Quarta (Bk. II) played on the Voce umana stop with alluring charm; a Cavazzoni hymn on the Principale stop, which proved to be a gloriously warm and singing sound; a Gabrieli intonazione played on the ripieno or tutti sound and several other pieces showing off the bagpipe drone stop (the Zampogna) and the nightingale stop (the Usignolo). We were filled with admiration for not only the serene beauty of the organ sounds displayed making these lovely pieces come alive, but the virtuosity of this young and talented player who seemed totally at home in even the quickest passages using Diruta-style early fingerings (3-4, 3-4 ascending and 3-2, 3-2 descending).

The York Gate Keyboard Gallery provided the scene for Anne Page’s demonstration of the two-manual Alphonse Mustel “Orgue-Celesta” from 1907. Ms. Page launched into a masterful mini-lecture/demonstration of the beauties and unique characteristics of this little-known instrument, which sprang from the spirit of 19th and early 20th century invention employing the so-called “free reed” concept. It rose to the height of its popularity after the industrial revolution gave rise to the middle class. Its ability to make dynamic changes by subtle variations in the foot pumping, and a sustaining power beyond that of a piano, made it an attractive alternative for composers like Lefébure-Wély, Franck, Bizet, Vierne and others. Composition for the instrument quickly became a long-standing French tradition. Ms. Page has become a true savant of the instrument. Her passion for its possibilities became ever more apparent with her tour de force renditions of difficult compositions by Lefébure-Wély and others. She was quick to point out that this instrument was never meant to be a “substitute for the pipe organ” but a different kettle of fish altogether with possibilities beyond that of an organ. One of the highlights of the day was hearing the Prelude, Fugue and Variation of Franck in its original scoring for piano and harmonium. The effect was extremely interesting and rich in dynamic contrast. Other pieces by Karg-Elert and Vierne (24 Pièces en style libre) showed us how composers pushed the instrument’s possibilities to the limits.

The afternoon offering was a masterclass at St. Marylebone Parish Church, across the street from the Royal Academy and site of a fine Rieger organ from 1987. Jurist Jos van der Kooy led the class of students from the academy ready to offer up pieces by Karg-Elert, Bach, Messiaen and Reger.

Marvelous playing by the student musicians was elevated by helpful and insightful comments by van der Kooy, who holds positions at both the Grote Kerk of St. Bavo in Haarlem and the Vesterkerk in Amsterdam. Some profoundly insightful comments were mixed in among some wonderful “Kooy-isms” such as “open the swell box with your ears, not your feet,” “Don’t let pistons dictate your silences,” and “I think birds sing very sophisticated in France” (re: Messiaen).

The evening concert entitled “The Splendour of the Baroque” featured Emma Kirkby, soprano, Jos van der Kooy, organ, and the London Baroque in a diverse program of rarely heard music from the eighteenth century. Along with works by Handel, Bach and John Christopher Smith, were two of the most delightful Soler Concertos for two organs, perfectly executed by Jos van der Kooy and Jane Watts. With the Five Arias, employing rapturous texts from Milton’s Paradise Lost and set sensitively with homage to Handel by John Christopher Smith (1712–95), all was right in the heavens.

Improvisation

The improvisation prelims were conducted throughout the week. The given theme, Nun Danket All und bringet Her, came with the instruction to execute a fifteen-minute partita on it. The improvisation final on Friday morning required each player to split the 20 allowed minutes as they wished between the submitted theme (Veni Creator Spiritus) and the newly composed theme by Jos van der Kooy. The themes were handed to competitors 40 minutes before their allotted performance time.

The first improviser was the young Frenchman Jean-Baptiste Dupont, who brought a huge, blossoming, rhythmic and foreboding drama to his themes, not unlike the Cochereau of old. He integrated his motivic ideas into colorful textures and held the audience’s interest right through to his incredible ending.
Gerben Mourik from the Netherlands approached the themes in a much more subdued and restrained fashion, building in a relatively tonal and conservative style. His was a beautiful harmonic language with very clear exposition of both themes and an excellent registrational concept.

The third contestant and an obvious audience favorite was Thorsten Maus from Germany. His was the most conservative style of the three. While Maus’s harmonic language was not as interesting as the first two, his compact but thorough treatment employing various formal techniques was perhaps the best packaged.

The final recital by a jurist was played by Erwan Le Prado from France, a former student of André Isoir. He presently teaches at the Conservatoire de Caen in France. Le Prado’s Bach and Buxtehude works were played with great musical personality, nuance and sense of immediacy—by far the best Bach playing of the week. He brought to the G-minor Fantasy, BWV 542, the power it deserved in an enthusiastic and energized rendition. The little D-minor Trio, BWV 583, seemed an apt choice to play between fantasy and fugue since many of its motives bear a resemblance to the subject and countersubjects of 542. The fugue was played in a spirited and somewhat daring manner which, despite its in-your-face approach, worked admirably in the rather dry acoustic of St. Saviour’s Church.

The Alain Aria is one of those “less is more” Alain pieces that give voice to his uniquely colorful, vivid and quirky imagination. The Second Fantasy of Alain, with its haunting Arabic themes suggestive of the chant of the Muezzin from a minaret calling the faithful to prayer, whips up into a wild and whirling dance, ending as it began in a mood of secret and mysterious melancholy. For a Frenchman, a suite from the French Baroque seems almost obligatory. Le Prado displayed well the sonorities of the school with the Guilain Suite du Premier Ton on the 22-stop 1989 Peter Collins organ built in the style of Andreas Silbermann.

Le Prado’s final offering was Six Variations sur un psaume huguenot written by his mentor André Isoir. This rarely heard piece by the 70-year-old French performing giant takes as its theme Psalm 92 from the Genevan Psalter. It is Isoir’s one and only published organ work. The amazingly intricate textures are fully exploited by the tonal palette of the classical pipe organ in wonderfully imaginative and unexpected ways. One could hear the cross influences of contemporaries such as Gaston Litaize and Oliver Messiaen. The vibrant “Final” brought the afternoon’s recital to a dynamic and impressive conclusion.

Friday

Friday brought us to the interpretation finals. The common piece to be played that morning was the 9/8 Prelude in C by Bach. All three renditions were competent although several suffered from too heavy a pedal registration—easy to do on an organ not especially designed to play Baroque music and in a room with thick walls especially hospitable to the bass range. Others were somewhat more legato than current taste would condone, blurring the lines. Yet another played in a rather stiff, inflexible manner. But this was all for the judges to ruminate about.

The second and third pieces, from 1850–1970 and after 1970, were the choice of the performer. We heard Reger, Duruflé and Franck plus a wide range of short pieces from Dan Locklair and Thierry Escaich to Lionel Rogg and Jon Laukvik. What criticism could be applied to these gifted performers would have to do with subtle and ephemeral items such as lack of “fire,” clarity, and use of the acoustic in rests and tempi, and overall control of the pieces.

Needless to say, these were all superb performance that would stand up well in any recital venue. What a thrill it was to see a cathedral nearly packed with people, rapt with attention and interest in what these young performers had to say.

After considerably more deliberation by the panel, a decision was announced. First prize for interpretation and its attendant $9600 purse went to Andrew DeWar of the U.K. Dewar was the second prize winner in the 2003 competition and is currently pursuing studies at the Musikhochschule in Stuttgart with Ludger Lohmann. Dewar also won the “Prize of the Audience” ($900).

The second prize ($5300) went to another Brit, Henry Fairs, a graduate of the Musikhochschule in Cologne and former student of Susan Landale. The first prize for the improvisation competition ($7000) was given to Gerben Mourik of the Netherlands, currently studying at Tilburg Conservatoire. The Douglas May Award ($1300) for one who is not a recipient of any other prize for the best performance of any competition piece in the quarter-final and semi-final rounds went to Simon Bell of Great Britain.

Final accolades were bestowed on each by town and festival officials and patrons at a festive ceremony in the great nave of the cathedral on Saturday morning, followed by a recital by the finalists in both improvisation and interpretation. Once again, the cathedral was packed with audience members.
Henry Fairs began the concert with the Elgar First Sonata opening movement, which the judges had requested that he perform since he had played it so brilliantly during an earlier level of the competition. It proved to be the perfect choice to begin this auspicious event—a lovely rendering of this lush work on a wonderfully English-inflected instrument in an ideal setting.

Jean-Baptiste Dupont, the French improvisation-colorist extraordinaire, showed us once again his consummate mastery of sound and texture. In this forum, sans a given theme upon which to extemporize, he was able to let his juices flow freely and this he did right well, producing gigantic explosions of sound to flow in alternation with the loveliest shimmers imaginable.

Jonathan Moyers (USA), a doctoral student of Donald Sutherland at the Peabody Conservatory, played once again the Thierry Escaich Evocation II. The evocation most apparent in this piece written over a sometime tedious pedal point is the tune Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele. Mr. Moyers gave the piece as fine a reading (and perhaps better) as could be expected.

Thorsten Maus from Germany, a finalist in improvisation, started us off with a very typical British-sounding march melody to the great delight of all. We thought we were at the “Proms.” He spun out a number of CHH Parry/Percy Whitlock-like variations in a rondo form, some homophonic, others more imitative with small hints of Elgar’s familiar Pomp and Circumstance tune thrown in for good measure. It was just plain fun and a nice foil for the others who were “oh so moderne”! You’d have thought Mr. Maus was British-born and bred. Maybe a week in St. Albans rubbed off!

Daniel Cook of the U.K., a finalist in the interpretation competition, almost came up to the same high standard in his performance of the Duruflé Veni Creator established the night before. Once again, he seemed in total control of all aspects of the piece and gave it a fine reading.

Gerben Mourik, the Dutch winner of the improvisation competition, played next and in a lovely gesture to his English hosts chose to improvise on the hymntune Michael (“All my hope on God is founded”). Once again, he gave an altogether splendid performance with great inventive strokes in his theme and variations and employing many different techniques and formal procedures.
Andrew DeWar squeezed the mighty Harrison & Harrison dry in another tour de force reading of Reger’s Phantasie für Orgel über den Choral ‘Halleluja! Gott zu loben’, op. 52, no. 3, using every imaginable tonal resource available to him on this somewhat modestly sized cathedral instrument.

Congratulations and thanks to the staff, jury, patrons, townspeople and of course the competitors who came from all over the globe and combined to make the week such a marvelous musical experience for all.

When Martin Neary succeeded Simon Preston as Westminster Abbey's Organist and Master of the Choristers in 1988, a distinguished career reached its logical (if dizzying) pinnacle. From his early years as a boy chorister at the Chapel Royal, Saint James' Palace, through an organ scholarship at Cambridge and several subsequent prestigious appointments (notably St. Margaret's, Westminster and Winchester Cathedral), Neary's achievements are the stuff of which church musicians dream. His numerous honors include a Fellowship from London's Royal Academy of Music; and from 1988-90, he was President of the Royal College of Organists.

But to paint a picture of Martin Neary as the prototypical English cathedral organist would truly miss the mark.  For he has cast his net far beyond the narrow confines of the organ loft, championing early and contemporary music both within and without the walls of the Church. In addition to a thorough musical apprenticeship and solid academic background, he trained on both sides of the Atlantic as a conductor. An active and well-travelled concert artist, he won second prize in the first St. Albans organ competition, and has garnered considerable acclaim for his many recordings as soloist and conductor.

The following conversation took place at Westminster Abbey.

Mark Buxton: As we sit here discussing your life and work, it strikes me there that is a pleasing symmetry to your career. As a boy, you sang in Westminster Abbey under Sir William McKie at the 1953 Coronation. Today, over forty years later, you yourself are in charge of the Abbey's music. What recollections do you have of those early years?

Martin Neary: Well, I began my musical life at the Chapel Royal, where I was a chorister for some seven years. (Incidentally, that was an unusually long tenure.)  When I arrived, Stanley Roper was in charge of the music, although he was later succeeded by Harry Gabb, who also held the position of Sub-Organist "down the road" at St. Paul's Cathedral.

As a Chapel Royal chorister, I was fortunate enough to sing at the Coronation. This was a truly memorable occasion, with a magnificent program of music directed, as you mentioned, by Sir William McKie--one of my many distinguished predecessors here. And in a way, yes, the wheel has indeed turned full circle, as I have just recorded a CD of music from the 1953 Coronation with the Abbey Choir.1

MB: After your secondary education at the City of London School, you went up to Cambridge on an organ scholarship at Gonville and Caius College . . .

MN: Yes, although I began by reading theology, not music. The Professor of Music at the time was Patrick Hadley, a name familiar to many Diapason readers as the composer of the anthem "My beloved spake" and the carol "I sing of a maiden."2 Hadley was Precentor of my college, Gonville and Caius, and encouraged me to change from theology to music. In retrospect, this was a good move, as I'm sure that I would have been too frustrated in the pulpit, not being involved in the musical side of things.

MB:The theological training must have been useful to you in your work as a church musician.

MN: Actually, it has been of immeasurable help to me over the years. As a theologian, I was required to learn Hebrew, which has given me a greater understanding of the Psalms. Wonderful as it is, Coverdale's translation of the Psalter does obscure the meaning of the original text on occasion. The opening of Psalm 121 is a prime example--"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills: From whence cometh my help." This is often taken to mean that the psalmist looks to the hills for his help, and finds it there; in fact, no help is to be found in the hills. The psalmist's help comes from the Lord, of course, as indicated in the following verse: "My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth."

On another, more practical level, learning Hebrew was an extremely valuable exercise. Reading from right to left developed an independence and mental agility which served me well when it came to playing trio sonatas!

MB: Prior to Cambridge, you studied organ with Douglas Fox and Harry Gabb. During your university years, you were a pupil of Geraint Jones, one of England's foremost Bach exponents of the period, and a teacher of great repute.

MN: Geraint Jones was indeed a great pioneer in the field of early music--Bach in particular. He was also a marvellous teacher; in fact, it was he who really taught me how to play. He had a remarkable knack for knowing just what to do with a piece, even one that he himself didn't play. For example, I remember taking Ibert's Musette to one of my lessons. I'm sure that he didn't know the piece but his comments were so perceptive as to suggest intimate acquaintance with the music. My success at St. Albans would not have been possible without his expert guidance and instruction.

MB: That was in 1963?

MN: Yes--at the end of my Cambridge studies, in fact. In many ways, 1963 was of tremendous importance in terms of my subsequent career. During my last year at Cambridge, I started doing much more choral conducting, and was awarded a conducting scholarship at Tanglewood after a rather unusual interview at London's opulent Connaught Hotel . . .

MB: Unusual?

MN: The "interview" itself consisted of nothing more than a conversation over tea . . . with no less a personage than Aaron Copland.  Without any doubt, this was the most useful cup of tea I have ever had!

Tanglewood was, of course, a thrilling and stimulating experience, especially since 1963 was Erich Leinsdorf's first year with the Boston Symphony. And thanks to Peter Hurford's good offices and introductions, I was able to play a fair number of concerts in the United States.

MB: And you pursued these interests-- playing and conducting--when you returned from America?

MN: When I arrived back in London, I was appointed Assistant Organist of St. Margaret's, Westminster--here in the shadow of the Abbey--under Herbert Dawson, who had himself been an Abbey chorister under Bridge. When he left in 1965, I succeeded him as Director of Music. I also taught at Trinity College of Music in London, while continuing my own organ studies.

MB: With Geraint Jones?

MN: Yes, and also with André Marchal in Paris. Marchal was a great source of inspiration, with his legendary legato and supreme skill in "placing" notes. He was a marvellous teacher, too.

Additionally, I pursued my interest in conducting by going on one of Sir Adrian Boult's courses, something which proved to be extremely beneficial.  Boult's approach was very direct: he believed that the best training for a conductor was, quite simply, to conduct. By this, he meant that the body must convey the musical mind, with the musical thought clearly articulated through the conductor's movements. The same goes for choir training too. At first, one just holds things together, but later, one must shape the performances. A conductor must be much more than a musical traffic cop!

MB: This must have been an exciting time to have worked in London, what with the rapidly growing interest in performing early music with a critical eye to historical detail.

MN: The early music scene was indeed burgeoning at the time. In addition to well-established exponents such as Raymond Leppard, unusually lively musical minds such as John Eliot Gardiner and Roger Norrington were beginning to rise to prominence. As you can imagine, the atmosphere was conducive to new developments and experiments.  I started various things myself, such as performances of Baroque passions with early instruments--something very new at the time.

MB: Who influenced you in this work?

MN: Walter Emery and Arthur Mendel, mainly. I had always been interested in their scholarly writings, and they were a major source of guidance and inspiration.

MB: The crop of new tracker organs, generally designed for a more sympathetic rendition, shall we say, of earlier repertoire, must have been an important stimulus too . . .

MN: Very much so. Of course, as musicological research continued to break new ground, conventional wisdom as to what was the "ideal" organ varied greatly. Thus it was that some organs came to be regarded as old-fashioned within a few years of their installation.

MB: Could you give us an example of one such instrument?  

MN: The Flentrop at London's Queen Elizabeth Hall [QEH]. This was a good organ, designed for playing earlier repertoire, yet its equal temperament and its pitch (A440) made it almost out-of-date after only a few years. Naturally, this caused no end of trouble whenever the organ was used with period instruments at their original pitch. I shall never forget playing Handel's B-flat Organ Concerto [Op. 4, No. 2] at the QEH, and discovering to my horror that the organ pitch clashed with the Baroque ensemble.

MB:  What did you do?

MN: I had to transpose the entire piece down a semitone. (You can imagine how much extra work that entailed!)  Since that time, I have always thought of that concerto as being in A . . .

MB: 1971 saw your appointment to Winchester Cathedral as Organist and Master of the Music. This is undoubtedly one of England's most coveted positions, and one which owes much of its lustre to what you achieved during your tenure there. At the time, however, did you ever feel that you might be sacrificing something by moving away from London's thriving musical life?

MN: In some ways, yes, I did realise that I would have to forfeit certain things, in particular playing with the London orchestras. On the other hand, I moved to Winchester with a very open mind. I was only thirty-one at the time, and went there with an "anything is possible" attitude.

MB: What possibilities did you discover (or create) there?

MN: It was clear that there was ample scope for extending the musical horizons. For example, none of the Bach motets had ever been sung by the Southern Cathedral Choirs (Winchester, Salisbury and Chichester), so that was an ideal starting point. At Winchester, we did a good deal of earlier repertoire, including the first British performance of Bach's St. Matthew Passion with period instruments. On such occasions as these, our top line would be augmented by a group of hand-picked singers from the Winchester area.

MB: But you don't do this at the Abbey.

MN: No, we use the choristers only.  In this way, the forces employed are more in keeping with those used by Bach. Our complement of men is smaller than Bach's, but the Abbey men are older and have stronger voices, thus compensating for what we lack in numbers.

MB: At Winchester, you were an ardent advocate of contemporary music too, with  performances and commissions of works by composers such as Jonathan Harvey--some of our readers will know his exquisite anthem "I love the Lord"-- and John Tavener. Of course, your affinity for the latter's output continues to this day, with the 1988 première (and 1994 recording, I might add) of Akathist of Thanksgiving.3

MN: I have conducted a fair number of Tavener premières, starting with the Little Requiem for Father Malachy Lynch in 1972. That work is very typical of the composer, inspired as it is by vast spaces. I think that this in turn both influences and inspires choirs which perform it.

As you say, Jonathan Harvey was another "Winchester" composer. (His son sang in the Winchester choir, incidentally.) My first contact with Harvey's work came when I played his Laus Deo for organ. There's an interesting story behind this: it takes only four minutes to perform and Harvey wrote it in a mere twelve hours. I spent more than thirty hours learning it!

Regarding "I love the Lord," he gave us this anthem in memory of his mother. It is a very simple, straightforward work, but worthy of Britten, I feel.

In my early years at Winchester, the new Bishop asked me to write a work for his enthronement using the text "TheDove Descending."4 I decided to ask a "real" composer instead, and approached Jonathan Harvey, who was teaching at Southampton University. (Southampton is situated in the Diocese of Winchester.)  He responded by writing a fascinating piece--"The Dove Descending"--although it posed some problems . . .

MB: Because of its technical challenges?

MN: Not only that, but also because there was considerable resistance to contemporary music. It was very unfamiliar terrain at the time, and the music was too difficult for many choirs. Today the situation is very different, because choirs have achieved a greater fluency in contemporary performance. The boys learn the music very quickly--a far cry from the early 1970s--and our men are able to read it at sight.

MB: That must be a prerequisite for professional men in cathedral choirs . . .

MN: Yes, especially here, given the sheer volume of music the Abbey Choir has to perform.

Incidentally, I should add that one of the gripes about "The Dove Descending" was the leap of a major tenth (E flat to top G) at the beginning of the piece.  Not to be dissuaded, I reminded the trebles of a Mozart piece in their repertoire which required negotiating an even larger interval--that of a twelfth!

MB: Before continuing our Winchester discussion, might I digress--since you've mentioned trebles--and ask you about the training your boys at the Abbey receive?

MN: We have regular daily rehearsals.  Nowadays, the training of choirboys proceeds with rather more vigor and liveliness than before, due in no small part to our greater understanding of how to work with a chorister's voice. Each boy receives individual training from myself and a voice coach, and we give them regular "check-ups." In my work at Winchester and Westminster, I have delighted in the challenge of working with boys aged 8-13. It is fascinating to see just how far one can take their voices, and I regard this aspect of my life as a great opportunity and blessing.

MB: As you look back on your time at Winchester, are there any special highlights?

MN: I think that 1979 was a banner year for us, signalling as it did the 900th anniversary of the Cathedral. One of my projects for 1979 was to arrange the first North American visit by an English cathedral (as opposed to collegiate) choir for twenty-five years. We were privileged to sing at several prestigious venues, such as the National Arts Centre in Ottawa, Washington's Kennedy Center and Carnegie Hall in New York.

Now thereby hangs a tale. Carnegie Hall had an electronic organ which gave out on us just before the concert was due to begin. This necessitated a radical revision of our program, and our tour manager was dispatched in haste to search out suitable repertoire at our hotel.  Luckily, we had a piano at our disposal, and it gave suitable service in several pieces--Mendelssohn's "I waited for the Lord," for example. However, piano accompaniment is considerably less suited for Purcell's "Jehova, quam multi"!  We all felt that the opening words of the anthem--"Lord, how are they increased that trouble me"--were very appropriate that evening!

Fortunately, we received good reviews for the New York concert, and the tour itself was a great success. As a learning experience, it proved invaluable for future visits.

MB: You appear to have enjoyed your good musical relationship with North America.

MN: Oh, very much so. I spent a sabbatical in the United States--at Princeton--in 1980, and was Artist in Residence at the University of California/Davis in 1984. I have done some guest conducting in North America and have always enjoyed playing recitals during my visits there.

MB: Towards the end of your Winchester period, the Choir took part in the first performance and recording of another contemporary work: the Requiem by a certain Andrew Lloyd Webber . . .

MN: Our participation in the Lloyd Webber brought us a great deal of press and media coverage. The exposure was very good for Winchester, of course, but I hope that it was also beneficial for cathedral music in general. Likewise, our tours and appearances at the Proms.  Events such as these bring cathedral music to a wider audience--and that cannot be a bad thing, after all!

MB: Earlier, we talked about your contribution to contemporary music at Winchester. How are you pursuing this interest at Westminster?

MN: I have set myself certain goals for my time here, one of which is to commission ten new masses with today's liturgies in mind. By that, I mean that the Sanctus and Benedictus must be concise.

MB: How is this project progressing?

MN: Well, Jeffrey Lewis has written a fine mass for us, and Francis Grier's contribution, Missa Trinitatis Sancte, is a winner in every way.5

MB: And a commission from John Tavener.

MN: Yes. In 1995, we celebrated the 750th anniversary of Henry III's substantial contribution to the Abbey's fabric. He enlarged the building in 1245 in memory of its founder, Edward the Confessor. To mark this, a major work  was commissioned from John Tavener. Entitled Innocence, it is a work for all humankind, using Jewish, Christian and Muslim texts.6

MB: 1995 was very much an annus mirabilis at Westminster Abbey, with the 300th anniversary of Purcell's death. The Abbey marked the tercentenary in grand style; but that is material for an article in itself . . .

MN: . . . We would have enough material for a series of articles, I'm sure!

MB: What a good idea. . . .

Mention of Purcell brings us back to your long-standing advocacy of early music. What is your approach to maintaining and nourishing the tradition of earlier repertoire here?

MN: I agree with the truism that tradition depends on maintenance. So, in order to perform this repertoire with greater stylistic fidelity and conviction, we now have a chamber organ by Kenneth Tickell. It will be of great use not only in Purcell, but also in English music of the 17th-18th centuries.

MB: A useful supplement to the renowned Harrison & Harrison . . .

MN: Indeed. The Abbey now houses two splendid examples of British organbuilding. The Harrison & Harrison instrument was built for the 1937 Coronation, and has undergone certain modifications since its installation. The most recent work was carried out under my predecessor, Simon Preston, and included the addition of an unenclosed Choir, some new mixtures and the Bombarde division. This has resulted in a superb accompanimental organ which is very rewarding to play.

For obvious reasons, the Harrison is less at home in music of a "chamber" nature, so our new organ fills what was a noticeable gap. It plays at various pitches - 415, 440 and 465 - and comprises Flutes at 8' and 4'; Principals at 4' and 2'; and a Sesquialtera beginning at Middle C.  As you can see, Cornet Voluntaries are possible.  There's also a device enabling the player to cut off the stop, permitting echo effects. Kenneth Tickell has voiced the instrument according to our express wishes, and it is a much-valued addition to the Abbey's musical resources.

MB: Tickell is an organist himself, of course.

MN: And a very fine one at that: an FRCO, no less!

MB:  I see that there's some controversy in British organbuilding circles at present, stemming from the fact that non-British companies have been awarded several recent contracts of note.  (I daresay that a similar situation on this side of the Atlantic would occasion vociferous comment from our North American builders.) Yet in some respects this is nothing new in British organ circles: after all, European firms have been building organs in the United Kingdom for several decades now.  Do you have any comments?

MN: Well, I welcome the work of what are sometimes referred to as "foreign" builders  Many of these organs are eminently superior when it comes to playing the repertoire, although they do not always meet every demand made of them. I do believe that the importation of instruments from abroad has, in some way, encouraged native builders to cast aside the insularity that was so prevalent in their ranks some thirty years ago.  This is heartening, I must say.

MB: Before we end our conversation, would you be good enough to share some thoughts on current North American organbuilding with Diapason readers?

MN: I always admire what the best North American builders have achieved, especially when faced with unhelpful acoustics. Fisk's instruments have always given me great pleasure, as have those by the Canadian firm of Karl Wilhelm. I haven't yet seen the Meyerson Symphony Center Fisk in Dallas, but am greatly intrigued by the excellent reports I hear.  I certainly look forward to playing it one day!

The writer wishes to thank Martin and Penny Neary for their gracious hospitality and generous assistance in preparing this article.

Notes

                        1.                  Music from the Coronation of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. Westminster Abbey Choir; Martin Baker (organ); London Brass; English Chamber Orchestra/Martin Neary (Cantoris Soundalive CSACD 3050).

                        2.                  Highly recommended too is Hadley's (unjustly) neglected symphonic ballad for baritone, chorus and orchestra, The Trees so High.

                        3.                  Akathist of Thanksgiving. James Bowman, Timothy Wilson (Counter-Tenors); Martin Baker (Organ); Westminster Abbey Choir & BBC Singers; BBC Symphony Orchestra/Martin Neary (Sony SK64446).

                        4.                  This work was commissioned by the Dean & Chapter of Winchester Cathedral, and first performed there at the enthronement of the Bishop of Winchester, the Rt. Rev. John Vernon Taylor, on February 8, 1975.  The text is taken from T.S. Eliot's "Little Gidding" (Four Quartets); the anthem was published by Novello & Co. in 1975.

                        5.                  Francis Grier's Missa Trinitatis Sancte is included on Westminster Abbey Choir's recording A Millenium of Music (Sony SK66614).

                        6.                  Innocence was premièred on October 10, 1995. It is featured on the Abbey Choir's latest recording, Innocence and other works by John Tavener (Sony SK66613).

Janice Feher is organist in residence at First Presbyterian Church, San Diego. She holds a BM from Michigan State University and an MM from the University of Michigan, and she is a Colleague of the AGO. Her teachers included Corliss Arnold, Leslie Spelman, Donald Sutherland, Robert Noehren, and Marilyn Mason. She and her husband, Bela Feher, published two photobooks as part of an ongoing project on pipe organs of Europe—Sacred Spaces of Germany and Denmark (with Marilyn Mason) and Sacred Spaces of the Austro-Hungarian Empire (available from Blurb.com ). Photo credit: Bela Feher

Robert Noehren impressed me with
his concern that organists should spend more time listening to music. I think he would have approved of the Leslie Peart organ tour of 2010 that included organ concerts, an evening at the BBC Proms, and choral services. We heard some impressive sacred and secular music in Scotland and England, as well as sharing memorable meals of representative local cuisine.
The 2010 Scotland and England organ tour—July 13–26—began with a welcome luncheon at the Ramada Mt. Royal Hotel in Edinburgh. This hotel is located on Princes Street, above shopping and restaurants, and it provided a great base for visiting the varied organs of Edinburgh. We began by playing the 1989 Collins organ at the Greyfriars Church, followed by the fine Willis organ at the Episcopal Cathedral. That evening we enjoyed a generous amount of time playing on the wonderful 1992 St. Giles Cathedral organ, built by Rieger Orgelbau of Austria.
The next day, Scottish rain and chill failed to dampen our spirits as we explored Queen Elizabeth’s yacht, Royal Brittannia. We were treated to lunch at St. Mary’s Metropolitan Catholic Cathedral, where concert organist Simon Nieminski is music director. Afterward, we played the large 2007 Copley organ in the church.
Next we visited historic St. Cuthbert Church, which has a large organ by Robert Hope-Jones, dating from 1899. The 93-register organ was extensively reconstructed in 1997–98 by J.W. Walker & Sons Ltd. of Brandon, Suffolk. We found an unexpected treat in the Freemasons’ Hall of Edinburgh, where there is a 1913 vintage Bridley & Foster pipe organ that has been preserved in original condition by Forth Pipe Organs of Edinburgh. The day concluded with a memorable organ recital at St. Giles, played by the cathedral’s director of music, Michael Harris.
An early arrival before the public at the Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow gave us time to see and play the historic Lewis organ from the 1901 International Exhibition. Later, we joined the public for the lunchtime concert played by our fellow tour members, Bob MacDonald and Dene Barnard.
Notable experiences in northern England included visiting Keswick in the beautiful Lake District, where we stayed at the Country House Hotel and cruised on Lake Windermere—England’s largest lake. We were warmly welcomed at St. Bees Priory, which has a historic 1899 organ built by “Father” Willis that is essentially untouched. It was the last major instrument he personally supervised. The original programmable pistons (the first in England) are still in place.
On Sunday we enjoyed the sung Eucharist accompanied by the historic Willis organ at Durham Cathedral. After playing the organ at Ripon Cathedral, we traveled to York Minster for Evensong in the large Gothic cathedral.
The highlight of the next day was touring Castle Howard, the location for Brideshead Revisited, where we played the organ in the castle’s beautiful chapel.
Our host in Liverpool was concert artist Ian Tracey, who helped us discover the impressive Willis organs of Liverpool. “Father” Henry Willis founded his pipe organ firm in 1845 in Liverpool. He contributed much to the science and art of organbuilding, and he was regarded as the leading English organbuilder of the Victorian era. Willis organs were placed in town halls and churches throughout the UK. Many remain today, including the 121-rank 1855 “Father” Willis organ in St. George’s Hall, Liverpool. Ian Tracey, Liverpool’s city organist, has great enthusiasm and concern for the maintenance of this historic organ.
A second great Willis organ is located in the Liverpool Anglican Cathedral, where Ian Tracey is cathedral organist. It was the largest musical instrument ever conceived when dedicated in 1926. Today it is the largest organ in the UK, even larger than Royal Albert Hall, with recent additions. It is playable from two matching five-manual consoles.
We toured the Willis organ factory, where we were impressed with the quality of their current instruments and the historic Rolls-Royce that David Wyld, the new owner of the company, had driven to work that day. Our Liverpool adventures were capped by an evening visit to the dramatic Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King, where a 1967 Walker organ is installed.
The last few days flew by with visits to play many organs, including those at Coventry Cathedral; Rugby School, where the game of rugby originated; Worcester Cathedral, with its wonderful 2008 organ by Kenneth Tickell; and the military academy, Sandhurst.
On our way to London, we realized we had visited a total of 28 instruments in England and Scotland!
A special memory of our London visit was the sung Eucharist at St. Paul’s Cathedral, where we had reserved seats under the dome for Mozart’s Mass in C Minor with orchestra, organ, and soloists. The service concluded with the Fantasia in F Minor on the organ. Sunday afternoon Evensong at Westminster Abbey was followed by an organ recital by Christian Lane, assistant university organist at Harvard.
We flew home from London well rested, with great memories and new friends, and thankful for exposure to such wonderful and diverse organs.
If you are interested in seeing the highlights of our UK organ tour, visit gallery.me.com/janbela#100052 for a 24-minute slideshow. (Note: Grid allows manual control of timing; slideshow is automatic. Locations are identified above or below the pictures.)
The twenty-third annual England Choral, Castle, and Organ Tour will be July 12–25, with four days in London, three at the Southern Cathedrals Festival at Winchester Cathedral, and many other organs and castles along the south shore of England. For more information, go to www.organtours.com, or contact Leslie Peart at [email protected], phone 217/546-2562. 

When Martin Neary succeeded Simon Preston as Westminster Abbey's Organist and Master of the Choristers in 1988, a distinguished career reached its logical (if dizzying) pinnacle. From his early years as a boy chorister at the Chapel Royal, Saint James' Palace, through an organ scholarship at Cambridge and several subsequent prestigious appointments (notably St. Margaret's, Westminster and Winchester Cathedral), Neary's achievements are the stuff of which church musicians dream. His numerous honors include a Fellowship from London's Royal Academy of Music; and from 1988-90, he was President of the Royal College of Organists.

But to paint a picture of Martin Neary as the prototypical English cathedral organist would truly miss the mark.  For he has cast his net far beyond the narrow confines of the organ loft, championing early and contemporary music both within and without the walls of the Church. In addition to a thorough musical apprenticeship and solid academic background, he trained on both sides of the Atlantic as a conductor. An active and well-travelled concert artist, he won second prize in the first St. Albans organ competition, and has garnered considerable acclaim for his many recordings as soloist and conductor.

The following conversation took place at Westminster Abbey.

Mark Buxton: As we sit here discussing your life and work, it strikes me there that is a pleasing symmetry to your career. As a boy, you sang in Westminster Abbey under Sir William McKie at the 1953 Coronation. Today, over forty years later, you yourself are in charge of the Abbey's music. What recollections do you have of those early years?

Martin Neary: Well, I began my musical life at the Chapel Royal, where I was a chorister for some seven years. (Incidentally, that was an unusually long tenure.)  When I arrived, Stanley Roper was in charge of the music, although he was later succeeded by Harry Gabb, who also held the position of Sub-Organist "down the road" at St. Paul's Cathedral.

As a Chapel Royal chorister, I was fortunate enough to sing at the Coronation. This was a truly memorable occasion, with a magnificent program of music directed, as you mentioned, by Sir William McKie--one of my many distinguished predecessors here. And in a way, yes, the wheel has indeed turned full circle, as I have just recorded a CD of music from the 1953 Coronation with the Abbey Choir.1

MB: After your secondary education at the City of London School, you went up to Cambridge on an organ scholarship at Gonville and Caius College . . .

MN: Yes, although I began by reading theology, not music. The Professor of Music at the time was Patrick Hadley, a name familiar to many Diapason readers as the composer of the anthem "My beloved spake" and the carol "I sing of a maiden."2 Hadley was Precentor of my college, Gonville and Caius, and encouraged me to change from theology to music. In retrospect, this was a good move, as I'm sure that I would have been too frustrated in the pulpit, not being involved in the musical side of things.

MB: The theological training must have been useful to you in your work as a church musician.

MN: Actually, it has been of immeasurable help to me over the years. As a theologian, I was required to learn Hebrew, which has given me a greater understanding of the Psalms. Wonderful as it is, Coverdale's translation of the Psalter does obscure the meaning of the original text on occasion. The opening of Psalm 121 is a prime example--"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills: From whence cometh my help." This is often taken to mean that the psalmist looks to the hills for his help, and finds it there; in fact, no help is to be found in the hills. The psalmist's help comes from the Lord, of course, as indicated in the following verse: "My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth."

On another, more practical level, learning Hebrew was an extremely valuable exercise. Reading from right to left developed an independence and mental agility which served me well when it came to playing trio sonatas!

MB: Prior to Cambridge, you studied organ with Douglas Fox and Harry Gabb. During your university years, you were a pupil of Geraint Jones, one of England's foremost Bach exponents of the period, and a teacher of great repute.

MN: Geraint Jones was indeed a great pioneer in the field of early music--Bach in particular. He was also a marvellous teacher; in fact, it was he who really taught me how to play. He had a remarkable knack for knowing just what to do with a piece, even one that he himself didn't play. For example, I remember taking Ibert's Musette to one of my lessons. I'm sure that he didn't know the piece but his comments were so perceptive as to suggest intimate acquaintance with the music. My success at St. Albans would not have been possible without his expert guidance and instruction.

MB: That was in 1963?

MN: Yes--at the end of my Cambridge studies, in fact. In many ways, 1963 was of tremendous importance in terms of my subsequent career. During my last year at Cambridge, I started doing much more choral conducting, and was awarded a conducting scholarship at Tanglewood after a rather unusual interview at London's opulent Connaught Hotel . . .

MB: Unusual?

MN: The "interview" itself consisted of nothing more than a conversation over tea . . . with no less a personage than Aaron Copland.  Without any doubt, this was the most useful cup of tea I have ever had!

Tanglewood was, of course, a thrilling and stimulating experience, especially since 1963 was Erich Leinsdorf's first year with the Boston Symphony. And thanks to Peter Hurford's good offices and introductions, I was able to play a fair number of concerts in the United States.

MB: And you pursued these interests-- playing and conducting--when you returned from America?

MN: When I arrived back in London, I was appointed Assistant Organist of St. Margaret's, Westminster--here in the shadow of the Abbey--under Herbert Dawson, who had himself been an Abbey chorister under Bridge. When he left in 1965, I succeeded him as Director of Music. I also taught at Trinity College of Music in London, while continuing my own organ studies.

MB: With Geraint Jones?

MN: Yes, and also with André Marchal in Paris. Marchal was a great source of inspiration, with his legendary legato and supreme skill in "placing" notes. He was a marvellous teacher, too.

Additionally, I pursued my interest in conducting by going on one of Sir Adrian Boult's courses, something which proved to be extremely beneficial.  Boult's approach was very direct: he believed that the best training for a conductor was, quite simply, to conduct. By this, he meant that the body must convey the musical mind, with the musical thought clearly articulated through the conductor's movements. The same goes for choir training too. At first, one just holds things together, but later, one must shape the performances. A conductor must be much more than a musical traffic cop!

MB: This must have been an exciting time to have worked in London, what with the rapidly growing interest in performing early music with a critical eye to historical detail.

MN: The early music scene was indeed burgeoning at the time. In addition to well-established exponents such as Raymond Leppard, unusually lively musical minds such as John Eliot Gardiner and Roger Norrington were beginning to rise to prominence. As you can imagine, the atmosphere was conducive to new developments and experiments.  I started various things myself, such as performances of Baroque passions with early instruments--something very new at the time.

MB: Who influenced you in this work?

MN: Walter Emery and Arthur Mendel, mainly. I had always been interested in their scholarly writings, and they were a major source of guidance and inspiration.

MB: The crop of new tracker organs, generally designed for a more sympathetic rendition, shall we say, of earlier repertoire, must have been an important stimulus too . . .

MN: Very much so. Of course, as musicological research continued to break new ground, conventional wisdom as to what was the "ideal" organ varied greatly. Thus it was that some organs came to be regarded as old-fashioned within a few years of their installation.

MB: Could you give us an example of one such instrument?  

MN: The Flentrop at London's Queen Elizabeth Hall [QEH]. This was a good organ, designed for playing earlier repertoire, yet its equal temperament and its pitch (A440) made it almost out-of-date after only a few years. Naturally, this caused no end of trouble whenever the organ was used with period instruments at their original pitch. I shall never forget playing Handel's B-flat Organ Concerto [Op. 4, No. 2] at the QEH, and discovering to my horror that the organ pitch clashed with the Baroque ensemble.

MB:  What did you do?

MN: I had to transpose the entire piece down a semitone. (You can imagine how much extra work that entailed!)  Since that time, I have always thought of that concerto as being in A . . .

MB: 1971 saw your appointment to Winchester Cathedral as Organist and Master of the Music. This is undoubtedly one of England's most coveted positions, and one which owes much of its lustre to what you achieved during your tenure there. At the time, however, did you ever feel that you might be sacrificing something by moving away from London's thriving musical life?

MN: In some ways, yes, I did realise that I would have to forfeit certain things, in particular playing with the London orchestras. On the other hand, I moved to Winchester with a very open mind. I was only thirty-one at the time, and went there with an "anything is possible" attitude.

MB: What possibilities did you discover (or create) there?

MN: It was clear that there was ample scope for extending the musical horizons. For example, none of the Bach motets had ever been sung by the Southern Cathedral Choirs (Winchester, Salisbury and Chichester), so that was an ideal starting point. At Winchester, we did a good deal of earlier repertoire, including the first British performance of Bach's St. Matthew Passion with period instruments. On such occasions as these, our top line would be augmented by a group of hand-picked singers from the Winchester area.

MB: But you don't do this at the Abbey.

MN: No, we use the choristers only.  In this way, the forces employed are more in keeping with those used by Bach. Our complement of men is smaller than Bach's, but the Abbey men are older and have stronger voices, thus compensating for what we lack in numbers.

MB: At Winchester, you were an ardent advocate of contemporary music too, with  performances and commissions of works by composers such as Jonathan Harvey--some of our readers will know his exquisite anthem "I love the Lord"-- and John Tavener. Of course, your affinity for the latter's output continues to this day, with the 1988 première (and 1994 recording, I might add) of Akathist of Thanksgiving.3

MN: I have conducted a fair number of Tavener premières, starting with the Little Requiem for Father Malachy Lynch in 1972. That work is very typical of the composer, inspired as it is by vast spaces. I think that this in turn both influences and inspires choirs which perform it.

As you say, Jonathan Harvey was another "Winchester" composer. (His son sang in the Winchester choir, incidentally.) My first contact with Harvey's work came when I played his Laus Deo for organ. There's an interesting story behind this: it takes only four minutes to perform and Harvey wrote it in a mere twelve hours. I spent more than thirty hours learning it!

Regarding "I love the Lord," he gave us this anthem in memory of his mother. It is a very simple, straightforward work, but worthy of Britten, I feel.

In my early years at Winchester, the new Bishop asked me to write a work for his enthronement using the text "TheDove Descending."4 I decided to ask a "real" composer instead, and approached Jonathan Harvey, who was teaching at Southampton University. (Southampton is situated in the Diocese of Winchester.)  He responded by writing a fascinating piece--"The Dove Descending"--although it posed some problems . . .

MB: Because of its technical challenges?

MN: Not only that, but also because there was considerable resistance to contemporary music. It was very unfamiliar terrain at the time, and the music was too difficult for many choirs. Today the situation is very different, because choirs have achieved a greater fluency in contemporary performance. The boys learn the music very quickly--a far cry from the early 1970s--and our men are able to read it at sight.

MB: That must be a prerequisite for professional men in cathedral choirs . . .

MN: Yes, especially here, given the sheer volume of music the Abbey Choir has to perform.

Incidentally, I should add that one of the gripes about "The Dove Descending" was the leap of a major tenth (E flat to top G) at the beginning of the piece.  Not to be dissuaded, I reminded the trebles of a Mozart piece in their repertoire which required negotiating an even larger interval--that of a twelfth!

MB: Before continuing our Winchester discussion, might I digress--since you've mentioned trebles--and ask you about the training your boys at the Abbey receive?

MN: We have regular daily rehearsals.  Nowadays, the training of choirboys proceeds with rather more vigor and liveliness than before, due in no small part to our greater understanding of how to work with a chorister's voice. Each boy receives individual training from myself and a voice coach, and we give them regular "check-ups." In my work at Winchester and Westminster, I have delighted in the challenge of working with boys aged 8-13. It is fascinating to see just how far one can take their voices, and I regard this aspect of my life as a great opportunity and blessing.

MB: As you look back on your time at Winchester, are there any special highlights?

MN: I think that 1979 was a banner year for us, signalling as it did the 900th anniversary of the Cathedral. One of my projects for 1979 was to arrange the first North American visit by an English cathedral (as opposed to collegiate) choir for twenty-five years. We were privileged to sing at several prestigious venues, such as the National Arts Centre in Ottawa, Washington's Kennedy Center and Carnegie Hall in New York.

Now thereby hangs a tale. Carnegie Hall had an electronic organ which gave out on us just before the concert was due to begin. This necessitated a radical revision of our program, and our tour manager was dispatched in haste to search out suitable repertoire at our hotel.  Luckily, we had a piano at our disposal, and it gave suitable service in several pieces--Mendelssohn's "I waited for the Lord," for example. However, piano accompaniment is considerably less suited for Purcell's "Jehova, quam multi"!  We all felt that the opening words of the anthem--"Lord, how are they increased that trouble me"--were very appropriate that evening!

Fortunately, we received good reviews for the New York concert, and the tour itself was a great success. As a learning experience, it proved invaluable for future visits.

MB: You appear to have enjoyed your good musical relationship with North America.

MN: Oh, very much so. I spent a sabbatical in the United States--at Princeton--in 1980, and was Artist in Residence at the University of California/Davis in 1984. I have done some guest conducting in North America and have always enjoyed playing recitals during my visits there.

MB: Towards the end of your Winchester period, the Choir took part in the first performance and recording of another contemporary work: the Requiem by a certain Andrew Lloyd Webber . . .

MN: Our participation in the Lloyd Webber brought us a great deal of press and media coverage. The exposure was very good for Winchester, of course, but I hope that it was also beneficial for cathedral music in general. Likewise, our tours and appearances at the Proms.  Events such as these bring cathedral music to a wider audience--and that cannot be a bad thing, after all!

MB: Earlier, we talked about your contribution to contemporary music at Winchester. How are you pursuing this interest at Westminster?

MN: I have set myself certain goals for my time here, one of which is to commission ten new masses with today's liturgies in mind. By that, I mean that the Sanctus and Benedictus must be concise.

MB: How is this project progressing?

MN: Well, Jeffrey Lewis has written a fine mass for us, and Francis Grier's contribution, Missa Trinitatis Sancte, is a winner in every way.5

MB: And a commission from John Tavener.

MN: Yes. In 1995, we celebrated the 750th anniversary of Henry III's substantial contribution to the Abbey's fabric. He enlarged the building in 1245 in memory of its founder, Edward the Confessor. To mark this, a major work  was commissioned from John Tavener. Entitled Innocence, it is a work for all humankind, using Jewish, Christian and Muslim texts.6

MB: 1995 was very much an annus mirabilis at Westminster Abbey, with the 300th anniversary of Purcell's death. The Abbey marked the tercentenary in grand style; but that is material for an article in itself . . .

MN: . . . We would have enough material for a series of articles, I'm sure!

MB: What a good idea. . . .

Mention of Purcell brings us back to your long-standing advocacy of early music. What is your approach to maintaining and nourishing the tradition of earlier repertoire here?

MN: I agree with the truism that tradition depends on maintenance. So, in order to perform this repertoire with greater stylistic fidelity and conviction, we now have a chamber organ by Kenneth Tickell. It will be of great use not only in Purcell, but also in English music of the 17th-18th centuries.

MB: A useful supplement to the renowned Harrison & Harrison . . .

MN: Indeed. The Abbey now houses two splendid examples of British organbuilding. The Harrison & Harrison instrument was built for the 1937 Coronation, and has undergone certain modifications since its installation. The most recent work was carried out under my predecessor, Simon Preston, and included the addition of an unenclosed Choir, some new mixtures and the Bombarde division. This has resulted in a superb accompanimental organ which is very rewarding to play.

For obvious reasons, the Harrison is less at home in music of a "chamber" nature, so our new organ fills what was a noticeable gap. It plays at various pitches - 415, 440 and 465 - and comprises Flutes at 8' and 4'; Principals at 4' and 2'; and a Sesquialtera beginning at Middle C.  As you can see, Cornet Voluntaries are possible.  There's also a device enabling the player to cut off the stop, permitting echo effects. Kenneth Tickell has voiced the instrument according to our express wishes, and it is a much-valued addition to the Abbey's musical resources.

MB: Tickell is an organist himself, of course.

MN: And a very fine one at that: an FRCO, no less!

MB:  I see that there's some controversy in British organbuilding circles at present, stemming from the fact that non-British companies have been awarded several recent contracts of note.  (I daresay that a similar situation on this side of the Atlantic would occasion vociferous comment from our North American builders.) Yet in some respects this is nothing new in British organ circles: after all, European firms have been building organs in the United Kingdom for several decades now.  Do you have any comments?

MN: Well, I welcome the work of what are sometimes referred to as "foreign" builders  Many of these organs are eminently superior when it comes to playing the repertoire, although they do not always meet every demand made of them. I do believe that the importation of instruments from abroad has, in some way, encouraged native builders to cast aside the insularity that was so prevalent in their ranks some thirty years ago.  This is heartening, I must say.

MB: Before we end our conversation, would you be good enough to share some thoughts on current North American organbuilding with Diapason readers?

MN: I always admire what the best North American builders have achieved, especially when faced with unhelpful acoustics. Fisk's instruments have always given me great pleasure, as have those by the Canadian firm of Karl Wilhelm. I haven't yet seen the Meyerson Symphony Center Fisk in Dallas, but am greatly intrigued by the excellent reports I hear.  I certainly look forward to playing it one day!          

The writer wishes to thank Martin and Penny Neary for their gracious hospitality and generous assistance in preparing this article.

Sean Vogt attended Central College, Pella, Iowa, where he was a winner of Central’s Concerto/Aria competition, and named a Cox-Snow distinguished scholar. He also studied in London, serving as assistant organist/choirmaster at St. Cuthbert’s Church in Woodgreen. He holds master’s and doctoral degrees in choral conducting from the Meadows School of the Arts at Southern Methodist University and Michigan State respectively. While at Michigan State, he was the director of the 100-voice Men’s Glee Club, assistant conductor of the MSU Chorale, artistic director and conductor of the Steiner Chorale—a semi-professional choir based in Lansing—and was music director at St. Jude’s Catholic Church. He was also one of the featured conductors at the Oregon Bach Festival. In addition to degrees in choral conducting, Vogt worked on a doctorate in organ at the University of Iowa, holds a diploma in organ from the Haarlem Internationale Zomeracademie voor Organisten (The Netherlands) and a master’s degree in organ from SMU. He has given solo recitals at the National Cathedral (Washington, D.C.), St. Philip’s Cathedral (Atlanta), and Fourth Presbyterian Church (Chicago), and has performed for the American Guild of Organists’ education video series. Dr. Vogt has served on the faculty for the Leadership Program for Musicians serving small congregations, and as the American Choral Directors Association’s Repertoire and Standards Chair for Music and Worship for the state of Iowa. He is currently Department Chair and Director of Choral Activities at Mount Marty College in Yankton, South Dakota.

Gloria in excelsis deo, et in terra
pax hominibus (“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to all people”), Luke 2:14, was likely the first carol ever heard, sung by the angels over the fields of Bethlehem. It would be more than a millennium before the next documented account of carol singing. In this case, it happened in Greccio, Italy, where St. Francis made the first Christmas crèche (crib) in 1223, in response to the Manichaeism1 of the eleventh and twelfth centuries—recreating the stable, even obtaining an ox and ass. People from around the village began to gather around St. Francis’s biblical re-creation. As a result, the people “poured out their hearts in praises to God; and the friars sang new canticles…”2
The dawn of the Protestant Reformation brought carol singing—amongst a myriad of other activities—to an abrupt halt. The Reformation during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries resulted in a fragmented church. The Lutherans viewed the feast of Christmas as a popish abuse. Since the Calvinist movement was quite popular, Christmas was consequently unpopular in England. Christmas Day was abolished by Parliament from 1644–1660; The Book of Common Prayer had no seasonal hymns. It was not until the Supplement to the New Version of the Psalms (1700) that interest in carols was rekindled. Only one Christmas hymn was included in the supplement: “While shepherds watched.”

A brief history of the carol
Interestingly, Christmas thrived more in secular society than it did in the church during this time. One of the first examples of music printing in England is an anthology from c.1530 that contained, among other things, carols by Ashwell, Cowper, Gwynneth, and Richard Pygott.3 Carols were primarily used in the home and private chapel. It wasn’t until later that they became a part of the parish church. This is likely why carols from plays (the ‘Coventry’ carol, being one example) and carols for domestic use appear to be in constant use. Two domestic carols from Poor Robin’s Almanac (1700) are as follows:

Now that the time has come wherein
Our Saviour Christ was born,
The larder’s full of beef and pork,
The garner’s filled with corn.4

And we do hope before we part
To taste some of your beer,
Your beer, your beer, your Christmas beer,
That seems to be so strong;
And we do wish that Christmas-tide
Was twenty times as long!5

For England, the eighteenth century was the “Golden Age of Hymnody” under Isaac Watts and the Wesleys. Hymns gained popularity over metrical psalms. The reason for the hymn’s popularity was that the congregation could finally have a participating role in the worship service. Carols became increasingly hymn-like to fit the current trend.
By the nineteenth century, thanks to the efforts of the Methodists a century earlier, carols began finding their way into many ecumenical books like Hymns Ancient and Modern (1861), the first universally accepted hymn book of the Anglican Church.6 A renewed interest in the past, coupled with the Oxford Movement,7 provided the opportunity for John Mason Neale, an Anglo-Catholic cleric, to promote the ancient texts and music found in the Piae Cantiones (1582). The Victorian revival of the carol produced numerous new books, some devoted solely to the carol: Some Ancient Christmas Carols (1822), Carols for Christmas-tide (1853–54), and Christmas Carols New and Old (1871) being just a few examples.
From the Piae Cantiones, which itself contained medieval carols, to the Victorian carol books, twentieth-century composers could now build on the carol tradition that dated back hundreds of years. John Mason Neale, in his preface to Carols for Christmas-tide, described the method that twentieth-century English composers would also follow:

It is impossible at one stretch to produce a quantity of new carols, of which words and music shall alike be original. They must be the gradual accumulation of centuries; the offerings of different epochs, of different countries, of different minds, to the same treasury of the Church.8

The notion of carol singing was heightened significantly with the service of Nine Lessons and Carols. Originating at Truro Cathedral, Cornwall, on Christmas Eve (1880), the service retells in scripture and song the Redemption story of Christ—moving from the mystery and wonder of Advent to the miracle and joy of Christ’s birth. The service was modified and introduced by Eric Milner-White, the newly appointed Dean of King’s College, Cambridge, in 1918. It is this modified service that has been adopted by scores of parishes in England and abroad. Since its initial broadcast in 1928, the service of Nine Lessons and Carols has been heard by millions of people all over the world. An order for the service can be found in the back of Oxford’s 100 Carols for Choirs. A look at this book also reveals a multitude of English composers who have made carol arrangements. Among the more well known are Holst, Britten, and Rutter.

Gustav Holst
It was the simplest of compositions by Gustav Holst (1874–1934) that would become one of his best-known: In the Bleak Midwinter (1905). Holst arranged the text by Christina Rosetti (1830–1894) while staying at a cottage9 in the Cotswold village of Cranham; it is also the reason why the tune is entitled Cranham. Just one year later, having gained significant popularity, his carol arrangement appeared in the English Hymnal (1906).
In the Bleak Midwinter is simplistic in that it is set like a standard four-part hymn: regular meter (4/4), homorhythmic, and functionally tonal harmonic motion. The choice of F major links Holst with the past, since F major was a common key in the Renaissance and Baroque eras for themes of a pastoral nature.
One way of preserving several items of importance is to collect them. Choir partbooks and the multiple compilations of carol books have accomplished the art of preservation. Holst did something similar, but on a smaller scale, when he wrote Christmas Day, a choral fantasy on old carols with accompaniment for orchestra or organ.
Dedicated to the music students of Morley College, the work is a compilation of four well-known Christmas carols: “Good Christian Men Rejoice,” “God Rest You Merry Gentlemen,” “Come, Ye Lofty, Come, Ye Lowly,” and “The First Noel.” With the exception of two simultaneous carols occurring at the same time, the rest of the work is homorhythmic throughout.
Much like Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on Christmas Carols, this work by Holst opens with a soloist who sets the ambiance as if about to tell a story around a fire. The carols provide the form of the composition. Ascribing numbers to the carols—1) Good Christian Men Rejoice, 2) God Rest You Merry Gentlemen, 3) Come, Ye Lofty, Come, Ye Lowly, 4) The First Noel—the form is 1, 2, 1, 3 and 4, 1, 2 and 4, and 1. True to rondo form, “Good Christian Men Rejoice” always appears in the tonic key, E-flat major. The simultaneous occurrence of two carols also provides unique contrast to the homorhythmic sections. The orchestral accompaniment is equally accessible, having many of the same attributes of the chorus parts, making it appropriate for amateur ensembles.
Like many English composers, Holst was influenced by folksong. In regard to carol settings and collecting them, it was his Four Old English Carols (1907), for mixed voices and piano, that embraced the “tender austerity”10 inherent in the songs of the English countryside. Although inspired by folksong, these tunes were of Holst’s own creation. A Babe Is Born, Now Let Us Sing, Jesu, Thou the Virgin-Born, and The Saviour of the World Is Born make up this mini-collection.
The medieval text Jesu, Thou the Virgin-Born, the third carol from Four Old English Carols, was infused with plainsong and simple polyphony (largely homorhythmic). The use of both plainsong and polyphony in this particular work is not surprising, given the fact that Holst had been spending time copying Victoria and di Lasso motets for St. Paul’s Girls’ School.
As evidenced above, Holst seemed drawn to set multiple carols within one work. This mini-collection of carols is equally true in his Three Carols for unison chorus and ‘ad lib.’ orchestra. Holst was clearly thinking of the symbiotic relationship between music and people with this work. There are scarce examples of a significant choral work with orchestra that includes a unison chorus and an orchestra that can be made up of as many or few instruments as available (‘ad lib.’) and still be a viable work of art. “Holst was a conductor who allowed all genuine amateurs to play in his orchestra ‘if humanly possible’.”11 The three carols include the following: Christmas Song: On This Day, I Saw Three Ships, and Masters in This Hall.
There is one carol by Holst that does not exist in a set: Lullay my Liking for unaccompanied chorus. Like other carols, the text is medieval. Changing meters help accommodate natural text stress. With the exception of the chorus’s fourth verse, the other verses are sung as a solo, and the choir answers with the refrain “Lullay my liking, my dear Son…” This piece is also very accessible for an amateur chorus, as the refrain remains unchanged throughout the work.

Benjamin Britten
It was during the 1942 wartime months of March and April that Britten (1913–1976) wrote, while on board the ship that was taking him from America back home to England, A Ceremony of Carols.12 Scored for treble voices—three parts to be exact—and harp, the work is powerful in its simplicity.
One aspect of simplicity is the accompaniment of a single instrument, the harp. One of the first instruments mentioned in the Bible, the harp has been the symbol of the psalmists, the heavenly host of angels, and serenity. Britten was planning on a harp concerto around this time; harp manuals were just a few of the books he had on his nautical voyage. However, despite the pleasurable sonorities from the harp that audiences have enjoyed for decades, this was not the case initially. “The use of the harp as an accompanying instrument in this context was considered radical at the time of the première.”13
The simplicity is also instantly audible from the first and last movement. Plainsong settings form the musical pillars to the eleven movements. Here, Britten chose Hodie Christus natus est from the Christmas Eve Vespers to serve as a musical processional and recessional. The processional and recessional are both in A major, a key Bach often used for its Trinitarian symbolism in the key signature.
With such careful musical architecture, it is not surprising that the middle movement be solely devoted to the harp. In true pastoral fashion, the rhythm is a compound (12/8) meter. More interesting is the choice of key. Where the traditional pastoral key would be F major, Britten chooses the equidistant enharmonic equivalent, the tri-tone (C-flat major). The piece ends on the dominant F-flat, minus the third—a common medieval device.
A final aspect of simplicity is the choice of voices and the way they are set. The sound of a child’s voice, and their presence on stage, can create a sense of innocence and purity synonymous with simplicity. Musically, Britten was always careful when he wrote for children. Although the music often sounds complex, Britten generally used the technique of canon as a way to produce polyphony. What better way to produce the feeling of timelessness than with canon—where a melody could continue ad infinitum if need be? The most oft-performed extracted movement is This Little Babe, a perfect example of Britten’s canonic writing for children’s voices.

John Rutter
Perhaps the most frequently performed carol arrangements are those of John Rutter. Born in London in 1945, Rutter is arguably the most prolific and published composer of carols in the twentieth century, not only in England but also around the world. In Oxford’s 100 Carols for Choirs, nearly thirty carols are by him. There are simply far too many carols by Rutter to discuss here. However, some examples show his connection to the past while writing in a modern romantic language.
“Joy to the World” is one of the most common carols in the Western hemisphere. Rutter could not have chosen a carol with more links to England’s past than this one. The text is by Isaac Watts (1674–1748) and the original tune by Lowell Mason (1792–1872). Rutter modeled the accompaniment for the carol from the orchestral writing of Handel. Complete with descant, the Handelian orchestration to Lowell Mason’s tune on John Wesley’s text is one of Oxford University Press’s most rented carols during the Christmas season.
Rutter wrote several other carols for chorus with orchestra or organ: Wexford Carol, Jesus Child, Donkey Carol, Angel’s Carol, Nativity Carol, Star Carol, Candlelight Carol, Shepherd’s Pipe Carol, and others. It is arrangements like Candlelight Carol, which can be classified as both a carol and an anthem, that have made Rutter a wealthy man. They contain the qualities necessary for any carol—a verse followed by a refrain, or burden.
In addition, the melodies and their respective accompaniments tend to be very sweet-sounding and melodious. It is this latter trait that has brought Rutter fame and fortune. In this music one can hear the influence of Fauré-like orchestration, Vaughan Williams-inspired melodies, and the often-used flattened seventh that is so common in popular music.
Many of the above-listed carols are Rutter originals. As in Shepherd’s Pipe Carol, for example, both the music and the text are by Rutter. The same is true of Jesus Child, Donkey Carol, Angel’s Carol, Nativity Carol, Star Carol, and Candlelight Carol. Of the composers discussed thus far, none wrote as many original texts and tunes as Rutter. His contributions to the carol genre alone have brought significant attention to the choral world.

Herbert Howells
No discussion of the English carol would seem complete without mentioning A Spotless Rose by Herbert Howells (1892–1983). Herbert Howells wrote the piece,

After idly watching some shunting from the window of a cottage…in Gloucester which overlooked the Midland Railway. In an upstairs room I looked out on iron railings and the main Bristol-Gloucester railway line, with shunting trucks bumping and banging. I wrote it for and dedicated it to my Mother—it always moves me when I hear it, just as if it were written by someone else.14

With its parallel thirds and fourths, the piece evokes a sort of impressionistic quality. The irregular meters (3/4, 7/8, 5/4, 5/8, etc.) give the piece a fluidity of plainsong-like phrases not found in other carols. The fourteenth-century text also provides a subtly respectful timelessness to the piece. A Spotless Rose is mostly in four parts except at cadences where it breaks into five or, in the case of the final cadence, six parts. It is this final cadence that was much beloved by Vaughan Williams and Patrick Hadley. Since the work’s creation (1919), Howells received a postcard every Christmas thereafter from Patrick Hadley that contained the cadence and these words, “Oh Herbert! That cadence!”15

Summary
Holst, Britten, and Rutter represent the carol in their own unique way. Each had a distinct musical vocabulary that can be heard in their music. Some used the traditional approach of setting plainsong to their own time. Others, especially Rutter, have set melodies that are distinctly their own. Nearly every composer, it would seem, has taken a traditional carol and adapted a “modern” accompaniment to the otherwise traditional melody.
In terms of texts, it would be difficult to find an English composer who never set an already established text. From these examples, it is clear that the medieval carol is among the more popular. Rutter, although there are others not listed here, chose to write melodies and accompaniments to his own texts.
Carols functioned as a social outlet, as Poor Robin’s Almanac illustrates. Interestingly enough, although mention is made of Jesus, plenty is also made of food and drink. Like folksong, carols were for the people. It is for this reason that they continued to exist outside church walls.
Carols were also devotional. For those who had their own private chapel, one could find them being sung there. In the parish church, it would take the efforts of the Victorians to regiment them as part of the liturgical service. It would not be until 1918 that the entire world would be affected by the Nine Lessons and Carols service at King’s College, Cambridge, which is perhaps the most influential reason for the popularity of the carol today.
Besides being both social and devotional, carols have served as sparkling gems in choral concerts. Carols are “art music.” Like many things throughout history, it is the way in which something is used that gives it definition. It does not seem out of place when a carol is sung in a secular location or by a secular ensemble. They exist for the betterment of music as a whole. Therefore, in this case the carol would be more closely linked with the social classification. As a result, the carol is one of those enigmatic genres that exist both liturgically and secularly—neither side taking issue with the other.
The main reason why the carol can dually exist is its simplicity. There is nothing to muddy the waters and create controversy, even when the subject matter is based on religious/biblical themes. Composers throughout the twentieth century in England managed to evoke their own voice while remaining true to the inherent simplistic quality of the carol.
Holst’s simplicity came as a result of the element crucial to the carol: the people. He wrote for them. Simple melodies, textures, and accompaniments meant that nearly every amateur could be an integral part of the carol tradition. Through simplicity of text, voicing, and accompaniment, Britten created his own form of simplicity. Rutter’s simplicity is in the way the music sounds. It is so very easy to listen to (the same cannot necessarily be said about singing or playing them!).
Following the Victorian rediscovery (and regimentation) of the English carol dating from the Middle Ages, the carol tradition in England remained strong and thrived under several great composers: Holst, Britten, and Rutter among the more well-known. Through their carols, they presented the carol through use of traditional qualities (plainsong, medieval texts, and the like) while infusing their own musical language, aligning themselves in the great carol tradition. With the carol’s multiple characteristics, it was and remains an enigmatic genre that is social, devotional, and art music, separately and all in one. With the inception of what is perhaps the greatest advocate of the carol, the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols, English composers have provided the means for the carol genre to thrive, all over the world, for centuries and millennia to come. ■