Organ Historical Society awards John Ogasapian Book Prize to Wm. A. Little

William Osborne holds three degrees from the University of Michigan, where he studied with both Robert Noehren and Marilyn Mason. He served on the faculty of Denison University for 42 years as Distinguished Professor of Fine Arts, University Organist, and Director of Choral Organizations. He retired from that position in August 2003 to become music director of the Piedmont Chamber Singers in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. He has played recitals across this country, as well as in Europe and Australia and made three commercial recordings. He is author of numerous articles, as well as of two books: Clarence Eddy: Dean of American Organists (Organ Historical Society) and Music in Ohio (Kent State University Press).

Charles Edward Horsley (1822–76), Mendelssohn’s composition student in Leipzig for two years beginning in 1841 and later a family friend of the composer, first met Mendelssohn in London in 1832 during the second of this well-traveled cosmopolitan’s ten visits to England. Through Horsley, Mendelssohn was introduced to George Maxwell, a student of the then-famed Johann Nepomuk Hummel (1778–1837) and organist of St. John’s, Hyde Park, whose modest two-manual instrument built by J. C. Bishop Mendelssohn had expressed an interest in playing.

Such were the small means placed at Mendelssohn’s disposal, but he made the most of them, and many happy afternoons were spent in hearing his interpretation of Bach’s Fugues, his wonderful extemporizing, and the performance of his own Sonatas, and other Organ pieces, then only existing in his memory. As the reports of these meetings became spread through the town, other and larger organs were placed at his disposal, and at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Christ Church, Newgate St., St. Sepulchre’s, and many other London churches he played on several occasions, giving the greatest delight to all who had the good fortune to hear him. I have heard most of the greatest organists of my time, both [sic] English, German and French, but in no respect have I ever known Mendelssohn excelled either in creative or executive ability, and it is hard to say which was the most extraordinary, his manipulation or his pedipulation—for his feet were quite as active as his hands, and the independence of the former, being totally distinct from the latter, produced a result which at that time was quite unknown in England, and undoubtedly laid the foundation of a school of organ playing in Great Britain which has placed English organists on the highest point attainable in their profession.1

Horsley’s memoir can serve to remind us that Felix Mendelssohn (1809–47), a child prodigy (Robert Schumann was to call the man whose first compositions date from 1820 the “Mozart of the nineteenth century”), prolific composer in virtually every medium available to him, conductor of a vast repertory (for example, for two years as city music director of Düsseldorf, where he mounted performances of at least five Handel oratorios in his own arrangements, and later for a decade at the helm of the famed Gewandhaus Orchestra in Leipzig), keyboardist, teacher (particularly as founding director of the Leipzig Conservatory in 1843), impresario, visual artist and poet was, unlike most of the German giants of the 19th century, very much involved with the organ as a means of musical communication.

Mendelssohn the Keyboardist
Mendelssohn began formal piano study with noted Berlin pedagogue Ludwig Berger (1777–1839) in 1815, and made his recital debut three years later at the age of nine. He then studied the organ with August Wilhelm Bach (1796–1869) (who had no direct familial connection to the earlier Bach dynasty, although he was a staunch advocate of the music of its most famous citizen), perhaps from 1820 into 1823, and wrote his first pieces for the instrument during that period. Bach, then the organist of St. Mary’s Church and later director of the Institute for Church Music, published four volumes of organ works between 1820 and 1824 and surely had a significant influence on his teenaged student.
Although Mendelssohn probably considered the piano his principal instrument, he was obviously fascinated by the organ, was intent on developing a significant organ technique, and seldom missed an opportunity at least to try the instruments he encountered on his extensive travels.2 For example, he wrote from Sargans, Switzerland on September 3, 1831 that “happily an organ is always to be found in this country; they are certainly small, and the lower octave, both in the keyboard and the pedal, imperfect, or as I call it, crippled; but still they are organs, and this is enough for me.” He mentioned turning the D-major fugue subject of the first book of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier into a pedal exercise:

I instantly attempted it, and I at least see that it is far from being impossible, and that I shall accomplish it. The subject went pretty well, so I practiced passages from the D major fugue, for the organ, from the F major toccata, and the G minor fugue, all of which I knew by heart. If I find a tolerable organ in Munich, and not an imperfect one, I will certainly conquer these, and feel childish delight at the idea of playing such pieces on the organ. The F major toccata, with the modulation at the close, sounded as if the church were about to tumble down: what a giant that Cantor was!3

Alas, the organ on which he practiced in Munich was also “crippled,” as he mentioned in a letter to sister Fanny on October 6, 1831:

I also play on the organ every day for an hour, but unfortunately I cannot practice properly, as the pedal is short of five upper notes, so that I cannot play any of Sebastian Bach’s passages on it; but the stops are wonderfully beautiful, by the aid of which you can vary choral[e]s; so I dwell with delight on the celestial, liquid tone of the instrument.4

He wrote his parents from Düsseldorf on August 4, 1834 about an outing to “Werden, a charming retired spot, where I wished to inquire about an organ; the whole party drove with me there; cherry tarts were handed to me on horseback out of the carriages. We dined in the open air at Werden; I played fantasias and Sebastian Bachs [sic] on the organ to my heart’s content; then I bathed in the Ruhr, so cool in the evening breeze that it was quite a luxury, and rode quietly back to Saarn.” In that same letter he talked of another

handsome new organ [that] has just been put up at considerable expense in a large choir room, and there is no way to reach it but by narrow dark steps, without windows, like those in a poultry-yard, and where you may break your neck in seventeen different places; and on my asking why this was, the clergyman said it had been left so purposely, in order to prevent any one who chose, running up from the church to see the organ. Yet, with all their cunning, they forget both locks and keys: such traits are always painful to me.5

English Organs
His contact with various English organs has been well documented. On his second visit to Britain he often played the closing voluntary or extemporized at St. Paul’s Cathedral, at that point the only organ in the country with a pedalboard sufficient to accommodate the works of Bach without what one observer called “destructive changes.”
On September 8, 1837 he played several Bach fugues on a two-manual instrument in St. John’s, Paddington. Two days later Mendelssohn was the focus of a particularly memorable event following Evensong at St. Paul’s, described in delicious detail by Henry John Gauntlett (1805–76), himself an organist of considerable accomplishment:

[Mendelssohn] had played extemporaneously for some time, and had commenced the noble fugue in A minor, the first of the six grand pedal fugues of Sebastian Bach, when the gentlemen who walk about in bombazeen [sic] gowns and plated sticks, became annoyed at the want of respect displayed by the audience to their energetic injunctions. “Service is over,” had been universally announced, followed by the command “you must go out, Sir.” The party addressed moved away, but the crowd got no less; the star of Sebastian was in the ascendant. The vergers of St. Paul’s are not without guile, and they possessed sufficient knowledge of organ performance to know that the bellows-blower was not the least important personage engaged in that interesting ceremony. Their blandishments conquered, and just as Mendelssohn had executed a storm of pedal passages with transcendent skill and energy, the blower was seduced from his post and a farther supply of wind forbidden, and the composer was left to exhibit the glorious ideas of Bach in all the dignity of dumb action. The entreaties of friends, the reproofs of minor canons, the outraged dignity of the organists, were of no avail; the vergers conquered and all retired in dismay and disappointment. We had never previously heard Bach executed with such fire and energy—never witnessed a composition listened to with greater interest and gratification . . .6

Two days later Mendelssohn improvised and managed to navigate the entire piece on a three-manual instrument in Christ Church, Newgate (built by Renatus Harris in 1690, enlarged by William Hill in 1834 and considerably altered by that builder in 1838).7 Gauntlett, the “evening organist” of the church, was again present:

Many who were probably present on the Tuesday morning at Christchurch [sic], were probably attracted there more by the desire to see the lion of the town, than from an earnest attachment to classical music: but all were charmed into the most unbroken silence, and at the conclusion only a sense of the sacred character of the building prevented a simultaneous burst of the most genuine applause.

M. Mendelssohn performed six extempore fantasias, and the pedal fugue he was not allowed to go through with at St. Paul’s. Those who know the wide range of passages for the pedals with which this fugue abounds, may conceive how perfectly cool and collected must have been the organist who could on a sudden emergency transpose them to suit the scale of an ordinary English pedal board. His mind has become so assimilated to Bach’s compositions, that at one point in the prelude, either by accident or design, he amplified and extended the idea of the author, in a manner so in keeping and natural that those unacquainted with its details could not by any possibility have discovered the departure from the text . . .

His extempore playing is very diversified—the soft movements full of tenderness and expression, exquisitely beautiful and impassioned—yet so regular and methodical, that they appear the productions of long thought and meditation, from the lovely and continued streams of melody which so uninterruptedly glide onwards in one calm and peaceful flow . . .

Mr. Samuel Wesley [(1766–1837) Gauntlett’s teacher, who was to die on October 5], the father of English organists, was present and remained not the least gratified auditor, and expressed his delight in terms of unmeasured approbation. At the expressed desire of M. Mendelssohn, who wished that he could hereafter say he had heard Wesley play, the veteran took his seat at the instrument and extemporized with a purity and originality of thought for which he has rendered his name ever illustrious. The touch of the instrument, however, requires a strong and vigorous finger, and Mr. Wesley who is at present an invalid was unable to satisfy himself although he could gratify those around him.8

On September 19, as part of the triennial music festival in Birmingham, Mendelssohn first tried the 1834 four-manual instrument by William Hill in the Town Hall, and then improvised on themes from Handel’s Solomon and a Mozart symphony, both part of the same program.9
On July 9, 1842 Mendelssohn paid a visit to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in Buckingham Palace and then described the encounter in a charming letter to his mother written in Frankfurt on July 19:

Prince Albert had asked me to go to him Saturday at two o’clock, so that I might try his organ before I left England. I found him alone; and as we were talking away, the Queen came in, also quite alone, in a house dress. She said she was obliged to leave for Claremont in an hour; “But, goodness! How it looks here,” she added, when she saw that the wind had littered the whole room, and even the pedals of the organ (which, by the way, made a very pretty feature in the room), with leaves of music from a large portfolio that lay open. As she spoke, she knelt down and began picking up the music; Prince Albert helped, and I too was not idle. Then Prince Albert proceeded to explain the stops to me, and while he was doing it, she said that she would put things straight alone.

But I begged that the Prince would first play me something, so that, as I said, I might boast about it in Germany; and thereupon he played me a chorale by heart, with pedals, so charmingly and clearly and correctly that many an organist could have learned something; and the queen, having finished her work, sat beside him and listened, very pleased. Then I had to play, and I began my chorus from “St Paul”: “How lovely are the Messengers!” Before I got to the end of the first verse, they both began to sing the chorus very well, and all the time Prince Albert managed the stops for me so expertly—first a flute, then full at the forte, the whole register at the D major part, then he made such an excellent diminuendo with the stops, and so on to the end of the piece, and all by heart—that I was heartily pleased.10

In early 1845 Mendelssohn was living in Frankfurt, where he was visited by W[illiam] S[mith] Rockstro (1823–95), later a composition student of the master. They met at St. Catherine’s, where Mendelssohn played through all six of his sonatas, soon to be published. Rockstro was later to recall the “wonderfully delicate staccato of the pedal part in the [Andante con moto] of the 2nd [published as the fifth] sonata played with all the crispness of Dragonetti’s mostly highly finished pizzicato.”11

Mendelssohn the Romantic?
Mendelssohn lived his tragically short life during that century that we somewhat glibly define as the Romantic Era. Romanticism in the realm of music conjures up imagery of unbridled, passionate expression, particularly through the use of luxuriant chromatic harmonies (with Wagner as the ultimate exponent of such an approach), as well as attempts at musical pictorialism at a time when purely instrumental music was being touted as the ultimate means of expressing the otherwise inexpressible. Mendelssohn surely had a gift for the pictorial; as witness, the “Italian” and “Scottish” Symphonies, his Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage (an “Overture after Goethe”), or The Hebrides (or “Fingal’s Cave”), another orchestral overture, this one generated by a visit to the west coast of Scotland.
However, scholars agree that much of his work was inspired by an obvious admiration of the idioms of Bach, Handel and Mozart, music of balanced formal structures and elegant clarity. This is particularly evident in what he wrote for the organ, as well as what he played on the instrument. He learned his reverence for Bach through his studies in theory and composition with Carl Friedrich Zelter (1758–1832), director of the Berlin Singakademie, who inculcated those contrapuntal principles we find employed so fruitfully in the organ works. Father Abraham Mendelssohn acknowledged the impact of Zelter’s tutelage in a letter of March 10, 1835:

I felt more strongly than ever what a great merit it was on Zelter’s part to restore Bach to the Germans; for, between [Johann Nikolaus] Forkel’s day [1749–1818] and his, very little was ever said about Bach . . . [I]t is an undoubted fact, that without Zelter, your own musical tendencies would have been of a totally different nature.12

It was with Zelter’s Singakademie that the 20-year-old Mendelssohn conducted his famed “revival” of Bach’s Passion According to St. Matthew on March 11 and 21, 1829.
A prime symbol of Mendelssohn’s adulation of Bach is the recital he played on August 6, 1840 in the St. Thomas Church in Leipzig as a means of raising funds to build a memorial to Bach, a goal finally achieved with its unveiling on April 23, 1843. The substantial repertory consisted entirely of works by the honoree:

Fugue in E-flat major (“St. Anne”), BWV 552
Prelude on “Schmücke dich,” BWV 654
Prelude and Fugue in A minor, BWV 543
Passacaglia in C minor, BWV 582
Pastorale in F major, BWV 590
Toccata in F major, BWV 565
The formal recital was framed with improvisations. The first served as a prelude to the “St. Anne” fugue. According to Schumann, the other was based on the Lutheran chorale O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden (the language by Paul Gerhardt commonly translated as “O sacred head, now wounded”) and ended with a fugal passage that included the BACH motto (H equaling B-natural), “rounded to such a clear and masterly whole, that if printed, it would have appeared a finished work of art.”13 Mendelssohn’s adoration of the Leipzig master is also reflected in the fact that, other than improvising and his own works committed to paper, Mendelssohn as an organist, with passing exceptions, otherwise played only Bach.

As a Composer of Works for the Organ
Until recently, most were aware of only two sets of published pieces by Mendelssohn for the organ: the Three Preludes and Fugues, opus 37, issued in 1837 and dedicated to Thomas Attwood (1765–1838), a student of Mozart and organist of both St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Chapel Royal; and the Six Sonatas, opus 65, issued in 1845. However, due to the splendid and meticulous scholarship of Wm. A. Little, since 1989 we have been offered access to a larger corpus of work. Dr. Little studied manuscripts found in libraries in Berlin and Kraków, Poland, and has made available through a five-volume collection published by Novello a considerable number of preludes, fugues, duets, sets of variations and individual movements simply defined by their tempo markings. Many of these are preliminary versions of what was later published by Mendelssohn, and some are inconsequential juvenilia (including Mendels-sohn’s earliest work for the organ, a Praeludium in D minor dated November 28, 1820, written at a time when he was studying with A. W. Bach), but a handful of the truly independent movements warrant performance, and Dr. Little’s work allows the possibility of a better understanding of Mendelssohn’s evolution as a composer by comparing preliminary with more mature versions of familiar movements from the published pieces.
“[Mendelssohn’s] compositions were reflections of his celebrated improvisations, which had as a foundation the polyphonic traditions of the Baroque. The mature organ compositions went beyond a single style of music, however, and exhibited a skillful combination of Baroque and Romantic characteristics, masterfully integrated by his distinctive musical personality.”14 Although finally and distinctly “Mendelssohnian,” one can delineate a handful of distinct idioms in his works for organ: fughettas and fully developed fugues (obviously based on an understanding of the Bachian model, but not slavishly dependent on it); employment of Lutheran chorale melodies as a cantus firmus or as the basis of variation sets; the virtuosic toccata; improvisatory moments, almost approximating instrumental recitative; an awareness of the English voluntary tradition of the preceding century (a slow introductory section followed by a faster, sometimes fugal section); and the lyric, one-movement character piece, the sort of expression that was to flower fully in, for example, Mendelssohn’s Songs Without Words for the piano. Idioms that seem more natural at the piano do appear; Mendelssohn’s virtuosity on the pedals results in demands on the feet that equal those made of the hands.

The Published Works
Three Preludes and Fugues, opus 37
Little, volume I
Published in 1837 simultaneously in London by Novello and in Leipzig by Breitkopf & Härtel
The Novello edition was dedicated to “Thomas Attwood Esqre / Composer to Her Majesty’s Chapel Royal.” The Breitkopf & Härtel edition was dedicated to [in translation] “Mr. Thomas Attwood / Organist of the Chapel Royal / in London / with Respect and Gratitude.”
Prelude and Fugue in C minor
Prelude and Fugue in G major
Prelude and Fugue in D minor
Initial versions of the three fugues had apparently been written earlier (although only that in C minor appears in the Little edition) and were simply mated with preludes written during Mendelssohn’s honeymoon of early April 1837. Organists should be aware of and perhaps consult for stylistic comparisons Mendelssohn’s Six Preludes and Fugues, opus 35, for the piano, which had been written over a period of years prior to their publication, also in 1837.

Six Sonatas, opus 65
Little, volume IV
Published in 1845 simultaneously by Coventry & Hollier in London (Six Grand Sonatas for the Organ), Breitkopf & Härtel in Leipzig (Sechs Sonaten für die Orgel) and Giovanni Ricordi in Milan (Sei Sonate per Organo); 6 Sonates pour l’Orgue ou pour Piano à 3 mains was issued by Maurice Schlesinger of Paris in 1846.
Sonata I in F minor: Allegro moderato e serioso—Adagio—Andante recitativo—Allegro assai vivace
Sonata II in C minor: Grave—Adagio—Allegro maestoso e vivace—Fuga, Allegro moderato
Sonata III in A major: Con moto maestoso—Andante tranquillo
Sonata IV in B-flat major: Allegro con brio—Andante religioso—Allegretto—Allegro maestoso e vivace
Sonata V in D major: Andante—Andante con moto—Allegro maestoso
Sonata VI in D minor: Choral—Andante sostenuto—Allegro molto—Fuga—Finale, Andante
In July 1844 the English publisher Charles Coventry initiated what became opus 65 by commissioning Mendelssohn to write a set of three voluntaries for the organ. On August 29 Mendelssohn wrote Coventry, asking that the label “sonata” replace “voluntary,” saying that he didn’t quite understand the precise meaning of the latter term. He continued to assemble individual movements, some reworked from earlier efforts, some new for the occasion, and finally committed himself to what was published in April 1845. At one point there was discussion about titling the collection “Mendelssohn’s School of Organ-Playing,” suggesting that the pieces could serve a didactic function, but that label was abandoned prior to publication. Given their evolution, it should come as no surprise that these assemblages do not meet textbook definitions of what a typical four-movement sonata ought to be, although No. 1 hints at the conventional (its opening loose sonata-form movement finds a double in the first movement of No. 4). Chorales appear in four of the sonatas. Fugal writing appears in all but No. 5, and No. 3 contains a brilliant double fugue. Even the minimal suggestions of registration and terraced dynamics suggest a retrospective viewpoint.

The Previously Unpublished Works
Little, volume I
Fugue in C minor [Düsseldorf, July 30, 1834]
Fughetta in D major [July 1834?]
Two [Duet] Fugues for the Organ in C minor and D major [Düsseldorf, January 11, 1835]
Fugue in E minor [Frankfurt, July 13, 1839]
Fugue in C major [Frankfurt, July 14, 1839]
Fugue in F minor [Frankfurt, July 18, 1839]
Fughetta in A major
Prelude in C minor [Leipzig, July 9, 1841]
The first two pieces became the basis for the third, inscribed as “Two fugues for the Organ / to Mr. Attwood with the author’s best and sincere wishes.” An accompanying letter informed Attwood that “I take the liberty of sending to you two fugues for the Organ which I composed lately, and arranged them as a duet for two performers, as I think you told me once that you wanted something in that way.” The idea for the duets perhaps arose from an experience of June 23, 1833, when Attwood and Mendelssohn performed a four-hand version of one of the former’s coronation anthems on the instrument in St. Paul’s. The Fugue in C minor later became the second movement of Opus 35, No. 1. The Fugue in C major later became the final movement of Opus 65, No. 2.

Little, volume II
Andante in F major [July 21, 1844]
Allegretto in D minor [July 22, 1844]
Andante [with Variations] in D major [July 23, 1844]
Allegro [Chorale and Fugue in D minor/major] [July 25, 1844]
Con moto maestoso in A major [August 9, 1844]
Andante/Con moto in A major [August 17, 1844]
Allegro Vivace in F major [August 18, 1844]
Allegro in D major [September 9, 1844]
Andante in B minor [September 9, 1844]
[Chorale] in A-flat major [September 10, 1844]
Adagio in A-flat major [Frankfurt, December 19, 1844]
[Chorale] in D major
Allegro in B-flat major [Frankfurt, December 31, 1844]
With its “pizzicato” pedal line, the Allegretto in D minor seems a premonition of the second movement of Opus 65, No. 5 (see Examples 1a and 1b). The Con moto maestoso and following Andante became the two movements of Opus 65, No. 3. The Allegro Vivace became the final movement of Opus 65, No. 1. The Allegro in D major and Andante in B minor became the third and second movements of Opus 65, No. 5. The Adagio in A-flat major became the second movement of Opus 65, No. 1.

Little, volume III
Allegro moderato e grave in F minor [Frankfurt, December 28, 1844]
Allegro con brio in B-flat major [Frankfurt, January 2, 1845]
Andante alla Marcia in B-flat major [Frankfurt, January 2, 1845]
Moderato in C major
Fugue in C major
Grave and Andante con moto in C minor [Frankfurt, December 21, 1844]
Allegro moderato maestoso in C major
Fugue in B-flat major [Frankfurt, April 1, 1845]
Choral [& Variations] in D minor [Frankfurt, January 26, 1845]
Fugue in D minor [Frankfurt, January 27, 1845
Finale—Andante sostenuto in D major [Frankfurt, January 26, 1845]
The Allegro moderato e grave in F minor became the first movement of Opus 65, No. 1. The opening of the Allegro con brio in B-flat major generated the first movement of Opus 65, No. 4 (see Examples 2a and 2b). The following Moderato and Fugue in C major provided the genesis of the third and fourth movements of Opus 65, No. 2, while the Grave and Andante con moto are the obvious parents of the opening movements of that same sonata. The Chorale, Variations and Fugue in D minor, with some reworking became the bulk of the Sonata in D minor, Opus 65, No. 6. The Finale—Andante sostenuto in D major in 3/4 meter was transformed with substantial alterations into the final movement of that same sonata as an Andante in 6/8 (see Examples 3a and 3b).

Little, volume V
Praeludium in D minor [November 28, 1820]
Fugue in D minor [December 3, 1820]
Fugue in G minor [December 1820]
Fugue in D minor [January 6, 1821]
Andante—sanft in D major [May 9, 1823]
Volles Werk [Passacaglia] in C minor [May 10, 1823]
Chorale Variations on “Wie groß ist des Allmächt’gen Güte” [July and August 1823]
Nachspiel in D major [Rome, March 8, 1831]
Fuga pro Organo pleno in D minor [Berlin, March 29, 1833]
Andante con moto in G minor [London, July 11, 1833]
In this volume of early works (including Mendelssohn’s first essays for the instrument), only a single piece seems to have inspired a mature work: The Nachspiel [Postlude] in D major provided the basic material of the Allegro maestoso e vivace of the Sonata in C, Opus 65, No. 2, which blossoms into a quite different fugue from that of the sonata.
For organists Mendelssohn’s works for their instrument admirably fill the void that had developed after the death of Bach, a period virtually devoid of significant writing for the instrument. They have maintained currency to the present and inspired an interest in the instrument on the part not only of Mendelssohn’s contemporaries (as witness, Schumann’s Six Fugues on BACH, opus 60, written in 1845 and published a year later), but several of his successors as well.

Marijim Thoene received a D.M.A. in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. She is an active recitalist and director of music at St. John Lutheran Church in Dundee, Michigan. Her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song, are available from Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts.
Lisa Byers received master’s degrees in music education and organ performance from the University of Michigan, and a J.D. from the University of Toledo, Ohio. She is retired from teaching music in the Jefferson Public Schools in Monroe, Michigan, as well as from her position as organist/choir director at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Tecumseh, Michigan. She subs as organist in the Monroe area.
Photo credit: Bela Fehe

The University of Michigan 49th Conference on Organ Music was dedicated to the memory of Robert Glasgow, brilliant organist and much loved professor of organ at the University of Michigan. The conference was truly a celebration of his life as a scholar, performer, and teacher. His raison d’être was music—organ music of soaring melodies and transcendent harmonies. He shared his passion with his students and has left a legacy that can be kept alive through generations of students who instill in their students his ideas.
During the conference, a wide variety of lectures were presented that reflected years of research, along with performances of four centuries of organ music. The conference was international in scope, with lecturers and performers from Germany, Italy, Hungary, Canada as well as the U.S. The themes of the conference focused on the influences of J. S. Bach and Mendelssohn’s role in arousing public interest in Bach’s music.

Sunday opening events
The initial event was an afternoon “Festival of Hymns” presented by the UM School of Music, Theatre, and Dance and the American Guild of Organists Ann Arbor chapter. Led by organist-director Michael Burkhardt, it featured the Eastern Michigan University Brass Ensemble, the Detroit Handbell Ensemble, and the Ann Arbor Area Chorus. Special care was taken to choose, coordinate, and connect music by Bach, Mendelssohn, and Charles Wesley. Many hymn verses and arrangement variations kept the presentation musically interesting and enjoyable. Dr. Burkhardt was masterful in his organ solos, accompaniments, improvisations, conducting, and composing. His leadership from the console was met with great enthusiasm from the appreciative, participating audience. (Review by Lisa Byers)
Sunday evening’s organ recital program featured music of Spain and France performed by musicians from the University of Michigan’s Historic Organ Tour 56 to Catalonia and France. Janice Feher opened with an excerpt from a Soler sonata. Gale Kramer performed the “Allegro Vivace” from Widor’s Symphony V, followed by Joanne V. Clark’s rendering of the “Adagio” from Widor’s Symphony VI. Mary Morse sang the versets of a Dandrieu Magnificat for which Christine Chun performed the alternate versets. Timothy Huth played a section from Tournemire’s In Festo Pentecostes, and Paul Merritt closed the program with the Dubois Toccata. The various composition styles, registrations, and favorable interpretations performed excellently and sensitively on the Hill Auditorium organ were well received and greatly acknowledged by the audience. (Review by Lisa Byers)

Monday, October 5
Jason Branham, a doctoral student of Marilyn Mason, set the stage for celebrating not only Mendelssohn’s two hundredth birthday but also his profound influence in bringing the forgotten music of J. S. Bach to the attention of Berlin and consequently to Western society. Branham’s program was a reprise of Mendelssohn’s Bach recital presented at St. Thomas-Kirche in Leipzig in 1840, performed to raise money to erect a monument to Bach in Leipzig: Fugue in E-flat, BWV 552; Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele, BWV 654; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543; Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 582; Pastoral in F Major, BWV 590; and Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565. Branham’s performance was exciting and earned him thunderous applause.
Christoph Wolff, Professor of Musicology at Harvard, eminent Bach scholar, and author of Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician, gave four illuminating lectures during the conference. In his first lecture, “J. S. Bach the Organist—Recent Research,” he presented arguments supporting Bach’s authorship of the D-minor Toccata and Fugue, BWV 565, dated 1703. Peter Williams, who questioned Bach’s authorship in the 1980s, maintained that such a piece could not have been composed by Bach before 1730. Wolff presented convincing arguments based on an analysis of both the oldest manuscripts and the music itself. He also drew a connection to the discovery in 2008 of Bach’s Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält, BWV 1128, in the library of Halle University. The work is a large free fantasia dated ca. 1705, with compositional features shared by the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Wolff maintained that Bach, whose organ technique was formidable at an early age, composed the D-minor Toccata and Fugue to dazzle his audience with improvisatory passages borrowed from pieces like Buxtehude’s D-minor Toccata. Wolff concluded that this work was written as a showpiece for Bach himself and not intended to be circulated and copied by his pupils; hence only one copy exists, in the hand of Johannes Ringk, dated 1730.
Michael Barone’s handout listing Mendelssohn recordings was a testimony to his impressive knowledge of recorded organ music. Of the many Mendelssohn pieces he played, the most compelling was a 1973 recording of Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, op. 25, played by Robert B. Pitman, piano, and George Lamphere, organ, at the Methuen Music Hall (Pipedreams CD-1002; live performance). The playing was stunning in its youthful exuberance and virtuosity.
Professor Wolff showed images of historical organs and churches connected to Bach, many of which unfortunately no longer exist, in his lecture “Silbermann and Others—The World of Bach Organs.” The most riveting information regarding performance practice of the organ in Bach cantatas came from a view of the original Mülhausen balcony. The balcony was large enough to accommodate strings, woodwinds, brass, and choir; kettle drums were fixed onto the railings overlooking the audience. The choir stood below the instruments. The large organ was used—not a little Positiv. A performance incorporating this practice is on John Eliot Gardner’s recording, Bach Cantata Pilgrimage, using the Altenburg organ in Cantata 146.
James Kibbie, Professor of Organ at the University of Michigan, announced that his recordings of the complete organ works of Bach, performed on historical instruments in Germany, can be found at the website <blockmrecords.org>. The project is supported by a gift from Dr. Barbara Sloat in honor of her late husband J. Barry Sloat. Additional details are available at <www.blockmrecords.org/bach&gt;.
Istvan Ruppert is Dean and Professor of Organ in the Department of Music of the Szechenyi University in Gyor, Hungary, and is also an organ professor at the Ferenc Liszt Academy of Music. His program included music by Mendelssohn, Karg-Elert, Max Reger, Liszt, and three Hungarian composers. He has formidable technique and played with great energy and abandon. It was refreshing to hear intriguing and unknown compositions by Frigyes Hidas, Zsolt Gárdonyi, and Istvan Koloss. The humor in Gárdonyi’s Mozart Changes was appreciated. Ruppert is a real enthusiast in sharing music by Hungarian composers by graciously offering to send scores to those who wished to have them.

October 6
Prof. Wolff pointed out in his lecture “Bach’s Organ Music—From 1750 to Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy” that Bach’s Clavier Übung III offered a textbook of organ playing. Wolff lamented that Mendelssohn’s inclusion of historical music by Bach, Handel, Mozart, and Haydn into the Gewandhaus concerts had unfortunate consequences in our concert programs today. While only five percent of his concerts were devoted to “historical composers,” the remaining works were by contemporary composers, himself, Liszt, Schumann, and Schubert. Today our programs are mainly old music, with five percent devoted to new music.
Susanne Diederich received a PhD from Tübingen University. Her dissertation, “Original instructions of registration for French organ music in the 17th and 18th centuries: Relations between organ building and organ music during the time of Louis XIV,” represents some of the ground-breaking research on French Classical organs; it was published by Bärenreiter in 1975. In her lecture, “The Classical French Organ, Its Music and the French Influence on Bach’s Organ Composition,” Diederich pointed out that the French Classical organ was complete by 1665, and Guillaume Nivers’ First Organ Book of 1665 contained the first description of all the stops. Her handout was especially informative in showing how Bach’s table of ornaments in his Klavierbüchlein für Wilhelm
Friedemann reflected his assimilation of ornament tables by Raison, 1688, Boyvin, 1689, and Couperin, 1690. Robert Luther, organist emeritus of Zion Lutheran Church in Anoka, Minnesota, played movements from Guilain’s Second Suite, and Christopher Urbiel, doctoral student of Marilyn Mason, played movements from de Grigny’s Veni Creator, Marchand’s Livre d’orgue Book I, and Bach’s Fantaisie, BWV 542, to illustrate features Bach borrowed from the French Classical repertoire.
Seth Nelson received his DMA in organ performance from the University of Michigan in 2003; he is organist at the First Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas, and accompanist for the San Antonio Choral Society and the Trinity University Choir. His lecture/recital, “Music of the Calvinist Reformation: Introducing John Calvin’s Theology of Music,” included an explanation of why Calvin did not approve of the use of the organ in services. The reasons were many: the Old Testament mentioned its use, thus it is not appropriate to use an old instrument in the new age; it is wrong to imitate the Roman Church; it is an unnecessary aid; it is too distracting; it is against Paul’s teaching, “Praise should be in all one tongue.” The highlight of the program was hearing Seth Nelson’s spirited playing of Paul Manz’s introduction to Calvin’s setting of Psalm 42 and Michael Burkhardt’s introduction and interlude to Calvin’s setting of Psalm 134.
The evening concert featured Mendelssohn’s six organ sonatas played by James Hammann, chair of the music department of the University of New Orleans. It was a rare treat to hear these technically demanding pieces all played at one sitting. Dr. Hammann’s years of investment in this music is apparent. His recording of Mendelssohn’s organ works on the 1785 Stumm organ in St. Ulrich’s Church in Neckargemünd is available on the Raven label.

October 7
Tuesday morning began with the annually anticipated narrated photographic summary of European organs presented by Janice and Bela Feher. This year featured the UM Historic Organ Tour 56 to Northern Spain and France. The PowerPoint presentation included at least 600 photographs of organs in 35 religious locations and the Grenzing organ factory in Barcelona. The organs dated from 1522 to 1890 and included builders Dom Bedos, François-Henry, Louis-Alexandre, Clicquot, Cavaillé family, Cavaillé-Coll, Moucherel, and Scherrer. The photos showed views of cases, consoles, mechanical works, stained glass windows, altar pieces, sacred art, and other enhancements. The Fehers provided a written list with detailed information for each picture. Their first book, with Marilyn Mason, is available by mail order from <Blurb.com>. (Review by Lisa Byers)
Stephen Morris is a lecturer in music at Baylor University, Waco, Texas; organist-choirmaster and director of music ministries at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit in Houston, Texas; and maintains a studio as a teacher of singing, largely concentrating on early adolescent female voices. His presentation, “Acclaim, Slander, and Renaissance: An Historical Perspective on Mendelssohn,” incorporated visual images and music. Among the lesser-known facts is that Mendelssohn was admired and befriended by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. They chose Mendelssohn’s March from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” for their daughter’s wedding. It became a favorite for productions of Shakespeare throughout Europe. However, due to anti-Semitism fueled by Richard Wagner, Mendelssohn’s March was banned by Nazi Germany, and ten other composers were commissioned to replace it. Ironically, the Nazis preferred Bach above all composers, yet they never would have known about him without Mendelssohn. Morris noted that there is a great wealth of information on Mendelssohn research at <www.
themendelssohnproject.org>.
Professor Wolff concluded his Bach-Mendelssohn lectures with a fascinating presentation, “The Pre-History of Mendelssohn’s Performances of the St. Matthew Passion.” He described Sarah Itzig Levy, Mendelssohn’s maternal great aunt and a famous harpsichordist, as the moving force who began the revival of
J.S. Bach’s music. She introduced family members and friends to many of Bach’s works. She studied with W.F. Bach and commissioned C.P.E. Bach to write what turned out to be his last concerto: one for harpsichord, fortepiano, and orchestra. She regularly performed in weekly gatherings in her salon as soloist with an orchestra from 1774–1784. In 1823 Mendelssohn was given a copy of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion by his grandmother, Bella Salomon, Sara Levy’s sister. It took Mendelssohn five years to persuade his teacher, Carl Friedrich Zelter, to have the Singakademie of Berlin perform it. The 19-year-old Mendelssohn conducted Bach’s St. Matthew Passion to a packed audience that included the Prussian king. This performance enthralled the audience and thus began J. S. Bach’s reentry into the hearts of German people and to the world at large. Mendelssohn continued conducting performances of the St. Matthew Passion when he became director of the Gewandhaus in Leipzig in 1834, at the age of twenty-six. He re-orchestrated it, shortened some pieces, omitted some arias, and introduced the practice of having the chorale Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden sung a cappella. That score and the performing parts are now in the Bodleian Library.
Eugenio Fagiani, resident organist at St. Michael the Archangel Catholic Church in Bergamo, played a recital at Hill Auditorium featuring Italian composers Filippo Capocci, Oreste Ravanello, Marco Enrico Bossi, and four of his own compositions. His playing was impeccable, and his compositions reflect the influence of one of his teachers, Naji Hakim, in style and use of exotic sounds and feisty, driving rhythms. His Victimae Paschali Laudes, op. 96, has a wide variety of striking timbres, ranging from a clarinet plus mutation stops to a big-band sound. His creativity as a composer was undeniable in his Festive Prelude, op. 99b, composed for this conference. Here the pedal occasionally sounded like percussive drums. The work sizzled with energy and ended in a fiery toccata. Fagiani played “Joke,” another of his compositions, as an encore. The audience enjoyed his quotations from J. S. Bach and John Lennon. More can be learned about this impressive composer/organist at his website:
<www.eugeniomariafagiani.com&gt;.
Michele Johns, Adjunct Professor of Organ at the University of Michigan, presented an interesting lecture on the changes of taste reflected in hymnals from four denominations over the past forty years. She noted that the texts have become more gender inclusive, hymns in foreign languages are included (“What a Friend We Have in Jesus” appears in four languages in the Presbyterian Hymnal), and there is greater variety in styles from “pantyhose music”—one size fits all—to Taizé folk melodies; she proved her point that in today’s hymnals there is “Something Old, Something New.”
One of the most exciting recitals of the conference was played by Aaron Tan, a student of Marilyn Mason and a graduate student in the School of Engineering at the University of Michigan, organist/choirmaster at the First Presbyterian Church in Ypsilanti, and director of the Ypsilanti Pipe Organ Festival. His memorized recital shimmered with grace and energy: Alleluyas by Simon Preston; Prelude and Fugue in G Minor, op. 7, no. 3, by Marcel Dupré; Sicilienne from Suite, op. 5, by Maurice Duruflé; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, by J. S. Bach; Moto ostinato from Sunday Music by Petr Eben; Naïades and Final from Symphony No. 6 by Louis Vierne. The audience gave him a standing ovation.
The concluding recital was played in Hill Auditorium in memory of Robert Glasgow by some of his former students. The program was a beautiful tribute to his life—a life devoted to the study, performance and teaching of organ music, especially the music of Franck, Mendelssohn, Vierne, Widor, Schumann, Liszt, and Brahms. The performers brought with them some of his spirit, some of his light, some of his joy in creating something that puts us in another dimension. His attention to the minutest detail of the score, his total commitment to breathing life into each phrase was mirrored in these performers:
Mark Toews, director of music, Lawrence Park Community Church, Toronto, past president, Royal Canadian College of Organists, Variations de Concert, op. 1 by Joseph Bonnet; Ronald Krebs, vice president, Reuter Organ Company, O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, op. 122, no. 11, Fugue in A-flat Minor, WoO8, by Johannes Brahms; David Palmer, Professor Emeritus, School of Music, University of Windsor, organist and choir director, All Saints’ Church, Windsor, Ontario, L’Apparition du Christ ressuscité a Marie-Madeleine by Olivier Messiaen; Joanne Vollendorf Clark, Chair of the Music Department, Marygrove College, Detroit, minister of music, Hartford Memorial Baptist Church, Detroit, Pastorale, op. 26, by Alexandre Guilmant; Charles Miller, minister of music and organist, National City Christian Church, Washington, D.C., Pièce héroïque by César Franck; Joseph Jackson, organist, First Presbyterian Church, Royal Oak, Michigan, “Air with Variations” from Suite for Organ by Leo Sowerby; and Jeremy David Tarrant, organist and choirmaster, the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Detroit, Andantino, op. 51, no. 2, and Carillon de Westminster, op. 54, no. 6, by Louis Vierne.
Professor Marilyn Mason made the 49th Conference on Organ Music at the University of Michigan a reality. She invested countless hours of planning and organizing into making it happen, because she has an insatiable thirst for learning and thinks “we all need to learn.” She has brought brilliant scholars and performers together for 49 years to teach and inspire us. The list includes such figures as Almut Rössler, Umberto Pineschi, Martin Haselböck, Todd Wilson, Janette Fishell, Madame Duruflé, Catherine Crozier, Guy Bovet, Peter Williams, Lady Susi Jeans, Wilma Jensen, Gordon Atkinson, and Marie-Claire Alain (to name only a few). We thank her for such priceless gifts.

An overview of 15th–18th century repertoire, sources, and modern editions

Despite the combination of carelessness and wars over the past 400 years, an exceptionally large corpus of keyboard music compiled during the 16th and 17th centuries has survived in manuscript form in Poland. It is extremely rich in liturgical organ music, but secular forms are also prominent. To the best of my knowledge, it is a great lacuna that no treatises on performance practice (such as registration, ornamentation, fingering) with or without examples have survived, if indeed any were produced. I am also not aware of any keyboard music being printed in Poland during the 16th and 17th centuries, unlike the many volumes produced in southern Germany and Italy. The following list, in chronological order as far as dates are known, details many of the manuscripts surviving in libraries in Poland. It should be noted that some places now in Poland were previously under the rule of a different country such as the former Bohemia or Germany. This list cannot claim to be complete, but is at least a starting point for further exploration; modern editions published in the past 40 years, where known, are included, although their ready availability, particularly those published in Poland itself, cannot be guaranteed. It should also be noted that music in these manuscripts is not necessarily by Polish composers; indeed, many pieces that are anonymous in the sources may well be by foreign composers who were active in Poland or whose compositions were known there. 

Much research remains to be done in cataloguing and evaluating sources, particularly those from the 18th century, which have been preserved in manuscripts in Polish and German archives. Many of the pieces that have been made available show this repertoire to be fully deserving of being played today, either as part of the liturgy or in concerts. Although many modern editions are on two staves, because of large stretches in the left hand and sometimes-awkward crossing of inner parts, the use of the pedals will aid clarity.

Ca. 1425: Sagan Tablature 

Breslau Staatsbibliothek (Wrocław, Biblioteka Uniwersytecka), I Qu 438. A single leaf in Old German organ tablature containing three movements from the Gloria has survived; each piece is in two voices only, the lower outlining the chant with the upper consisting of florid figuration based on octave doubling of the chant tones. These pieces have been edited by Willi Apel, in Keyboard music of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (Corpus of Early Keyboard Music, vol. 1, American Institute of Musicology). 

Ca. 1450?: 

Dominican Monastery, Breslau 

Breslau Staatsbibliothek (Wrocław, Biblioteka Uniwersytecka), I Qu 42. A fragment in Old German organ tablature containing two short pieces has survived. The first piece is untitled, the second carries the heading Incipit Fundamentum bonum p(edaliter) in c d a. As with the previous manuscript, each piece is predominantly in two voices with the upper voice occasionally containing up to three, the lower outlining the chant with the upper consisting of florid figuration. A further fragment now in Breslau Staatsbibliothek (I F 687) contains five pieces, of which one is a sequence of clausulae. The other four contain a melody in the lower voice beneath a florid upper voice with occasional extra notes added. These pieces have been edited by Willi Apel in Keyboard music of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (Corpus of Early Keyboard Music, vol. 1, American Institute of Musicology).

1520 

Warsaw, Biblioteka Publiczna m. st. Warszawy, akc.3141. Fragments, 19 ff. Old German Tablature. See Brzezińska, 1987.

1528

Warsaw, Biblioteka Narodowa mus. 2081. One folio in Old German Tablature; see Brzezińska, 1987, facsimile plate 12.

Ca. 1537–48: Johannes of Lublin Tablature

Kraków, Biblioteka Polskiej Akademii Nauk, 1716. This enormous tablature of 260 folios in Old German organ tablature contains pieces across all genres. There is a modern edition 1964–67 by John Reeves White for the American Institute of Musicology, volume six in the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series, divided into a further six volumes. Volume one: 21 preambula, three organ Masses, and 13 Mass ordinary sections; volume two: 20 introits and sequences and 11 hymn settings; volume three: 38 motet intabulations; volume four: eight German, 13 Italian, and six French intabulations of secular songs; volume five: 36 dances, 11 Polish compositions, and 13 works of uncertain origin; volume six: 19 short compositions based on the tones of the psalms and Magnificat, and a further 26 short examples of fundamentum and clausulae. A facsimile edited by Wydala Krystyna Wilkowska-Chominska was published in 1964 as Tablatura organowa Jana z Lublina by Monumenta musicae in Polonia, Seria B, Vol. 1.

Ca. 1548: KrakЧw Tablature 

Warsaw, Biblioteka Narodowa, 564. This manuscript in Old German tablature, from the monastery of the Holy Spirit in Kraków, has been lost but a photocopy survives. It contains some 98 compositions in 362 pages, predominantly intabulations of pieces of a sacred nature, comprising preludes (1–9), fugues (10–15), Mass ordinary compositions (16–24), introits and sequences (25–29), hymns and antiphons (30–40), motets (41–57), and psalms (58–65). The remaining pieces are Polish songs (66–70), compositions of German origin including chorale settings (71–78), of Italian origin (79–82), French origin (83–85), and of uncertain identity (86–98). The great majority of pieces are for manuals only and a number are also included in the Lublin Tablature. Modern edition in two volumes edited by Wyatt Insko for Ludowy Institut Muzyczny, Łódż, 1992.

Ca. 1565

Wrocław, Biblioteka Uniwersytecka contained Magnificat settings and psalm tones but is now presumed lost.

Ca. 1580: Martin Leopolita or Warsaw Musical Society Tablature

Warsaw, Biblioteka Warszawskiego Towarzystwa Muzycznego I/220, now known as the Łowicka tabulature, from the town with which it is associated. This tablature contains some 74 compositions in New German organ tablature, mainly intabulations of motets, antiphons, and introits, but including Magnificats on the eight tones. Pedals are required for several pieces. A modern edition by Jerzy Gołos, published by the Akademia Muzyczna im. Fryderyka Chopina w Warszawie (1993) is a revised and corrected version of the edition previously published as Antiquitates Musicae in Polonia vol. XV (1967). Three intabulations and the Magnificat on the Eighth Tone were edited by Jerzy Gołos and Adam Sutkowski in volume 10, part four, of the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series, American Institute of Musicology. See Gołos. 

Ca. 1591: Gdańsk Tablature

Gdańsk, Wojewódzkie Archiwum Panstwowe, 300, R (Vv, 123). This tablature contains 45 pieces in Italian keyboard notation on two staves, comprising 17 fantasias, followed by intabulations of hymns, motets, and secular songs. Modern edition by Jerzy Erdman (Polski Institut Muzyczny, Łódż, 1993). The 17 fantasias (broadly similar to extended Italian intonazioni, although some open with imitation that soon dissolves into figuration) have been edited by Jerzy Gołos and Adam Sutkowski in volume 10, part three in the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music, American Institute of Musicology. The manuscript is also included in Franz Kessler’s 1988 edition of Danziger Orgelmusik des 16 bis 18 Jahrhunderts (Hänssler Verlag, now available through Carus Verlag), although with a third stave for pedals that is not a feature of the original manuscript (the great majority of the pieces can be performed as manuals only). Cajus Schmiedtlein (or Schmedecke) (1555–1611), organist of the Marienkirche, Danzig, has been considered as a possible author of this tabulature. 

Ca. 1593: Organ Tablature “A F M B”

Kraków, Biblioteka Jagiellońska 40115 (formerly in Berlin Staatsbibliothek). Although the great majority of the approximately 80 pieces in this manuscript in New German organ tablature are of German provenance, one piece, a Polish dance, is included in Musica Antiqua Polonica, Renesans 7: Dances, edited by Piotr Poźniak, published by Polskie Wydawnictwo Muzyczne, 1994. This anthology contains 41 pieces, of which 17 are for lute, with seven organ pieces taken from the Lublin tablatures.

Ca.1595: Toruń Tablature

Toruń Archiwum Wojewódzkie, XIV 13a. Tablature

Compiled by Johannes Fischer of Morąg, it contains motet settings and fantasias in New German organ tablature. Two pieces ascribed to Diomedes Cato (Muteta and Fuga) were edited by Jerzy Gołos and Adam Sutkowski in volume 10, part four of the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series, American Institute of Musicology, and a fuga and fantasia by Cato were included in Musica Antiqua Polonica: Renesans 4: Keyboard music, edited by Piotr Poźniak, published by Polskie Wydawnictwo Muzyczne, 1994, but the tablature still awaits a complete modern edition. 

Ca. 1618: Adam z Wągrowiec or Samogitian Tablature

Now preserved in Jesuit College, Kroże in Samogitia, Lithuania (Ms LT-Vn 105-67), contains some 35 pieces by Adam z Wągrowiec (d. 1629), including cadences in different tones or modes, several free pieces including a prelude with obligatory pedal part indicated on a separate stave, nine fantasias, four ricercars, and several liturgical paraphrases that show the influence of Frescobaldi. Three canzonas attributed to Adam are preserved in the Pelplin tablatures (see below). Modern edition by Irena Bieńkowska and Mirosław Perz, published by Neriton, Warsaw, 1999.

Ca. 1619: Oliwa Tablature

Vilnius, Bibliotece Litewskiej Akademii Nauk (Library of the Lithuanian Academy of Sciences), F 15-284 and a fragment F 15-286. This tablature, originating in the Cistercian Monastery at Oliva, near Gdańsk, contains some 329 pieces (the largest portion consists of transcribed unembellished vocal music including motets, mass movements, madrigals, chansons, and lieder, with only four praeambulas, six fugues, five canzonas, and a wide variety of dances), on at least 180 folios, the bulk of which was written by Jacobus Apfell in New German organ tablature. Unfortunately only two slim volumes of the contents have been published to date. The first volume contains 12 pieces, five of which are ascribed to Piotr Drusiński including two praeambula, and settings of Veni Redemptor Gentium, Resonet in laudibus, and Deus in adiutorium. A canzona is ascribed to Diomedes Cato, and the remaining pieces are anonymous (Lemma, two fugues, Melos, and a fantasia). The second volume contains intabulations of pieces by Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli, Antegnati, Hassler, and anonymous dances. Both volumes edited by Jan Janca (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Organon, ca. 1992). 

Ca. 1620-30: Pelplin Tablature

Pelplin, Biblioteka Seminarium, 304–8, 308a Pelplin, Cistercian monastery. Among them the six tablatures in New German tablature contain 797 intabulations of vocal works and 91 instrumental compositions by composers from across Europe. A supplement with organ works was copied ca. 1650–80, including chorale settings by Scheidemann, Hasse, and Tunder (these are available in modern editions of the composers’ keyboard works, and some have been edited by Jerzy Gołos and Adam Sutkowski in parts one and two of volume 10 of the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series, American Institute of Musicology). A small part of the intabulations has been edited in modern transcriptions and published in the series Antiquitates Musicae in Polonia (Graz: Akademische Druck und Verlag), including Hieronim  Feicht’s 1970 edition of the 91 instrumental works (volume 8), Jan Węcowski’s 1970 edition  of the intabulations of 54 motets by Andrzej Hakenberger (volume 9), and Jerzy Golos and T. Maciejewski’s 1970 edition devoted to the vocal works by Peter Phillips and Melchior Vulpius (volume 10). A catalogue (volume 1) and facsimile of the complete tablatures (volumes 2–7) is included in the series Antiquitates Musicae in Polonia.

Early 17th century

Warsaw, Biblioteka Narodowa, 327 (olim 4577, olim 5229; olim Legnica, Ritter-Akademie 98) [microfilm no. 19, 581]). New German tablature. An intabulation of Schadaeus’s Promptuarium musicum (Strasbourg 1611–17) with a few chorale settings added. No modern edition known. See Gołos. 

Warsaw, Biblioteka Narodowa 326 (olim 4579, olim 5231 and D 590–114; olim Legnica, Ritter-Akademie 100) (early 17th century). 328 ff. New German organ tablature. 298 intabulations of vocal works, mostly in skeletal form for accompanimental purposes. No modern edition known. See Gołos.

Kraków, Biblioteka Jagiellońska, 24 (olim Legnica, Ritter-Akademie, 101) (early 17th century). 185 ff. New German organ tablature. Intabulations of secular works by Lassus, Marenzio, Gastoldi, Crecquillon, etc. on ff.137v–142v, 160r–165r. No modern edition known. See Gołos.

Ca. 1626: Vilnius or Sapieha Tablature 

Vilnius, Bibliotece Litewskiej Akademii Nauk (Library of the Lithuanian Academy of Sciences), F-30-119. In Italian keyboard notation, in addition to organ works, it includes four vocal works for one or two voices and continuo, as well as 25 engravings that portray the life of St. Francis, with captions in Latin and Polish.

Modern edition 2004 by Piotr Pózniak, Album Sapieżyńskie. Sub Sole Sarmatiae, Volume 9: Wileńska tabulatura organowa z XVII wieku obrazami żywota św. Franciszka zdobiona. Published by Musica Iagellonica, Kraków.

Ca. 1644: Ostrameczew or Polotsk Tablature

Kraków, Biblioteka Jagiellońska Ms 10002 (originally 127.56). In Italian keyboard notation, this tablature contains pieces by many composers including Marcin Mielczewski, and the single preserved piece by Piotr Żelechowski, a Fantasia sopra Primo Tono, edited by Jerzy Gołos and Adam Sutkowski in volume 10, part four of the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series, American Institute of Musicology, and also by Jan Stęszewski for Polskie Wydawn, Muzyczne 73, Warsaw. No complete modern edition known.

Ca. 1680: The Warsaw Tablature

The original, in Italian keyboard notation, is now considered lost during the Warsaw Uprising of 1944, and its provenance remains unknown, although Aleksander Poliński surmised its origin to be in the Polish province of North Masovia. Originally housed in the National Library, Warsaw (hence its name), a fair copy was made by Adolph Chybiński, which in its turn has disappeared, leaving only a partial copy made by his student Czesław Sikorski. This contains 71 pieces, comprising 19 preambula, 13 toccatas, 17 fugues, three fantasias, a capriccio and its proportio, four canzonas, 12 settings of Christmas pieces, and two untitled pieces; excerpts from Pachelbel and Frescobaldi have been identified. A modern edition by Jerzy Gołos ca. 1990 for Ludowy Institut Muzyczny, Łódż, is a revised and corrected version of Chybiński’s copy. Thirteen pieces were edited by Jerzy Gołos and Adam Sutkowski in volume 10, part four of the Corpus of Early Keyboard Music series, American Institute of Musicology.

1768: Arie z rЧżnych autorЧw zebrine anno 1768

Clarist convent archives Stary Sącz 26. This manuscript on 49 leaves is a collection of arias, which was handed down to a nun in the convent in 1768. Originally comprising 102 compositions, two pages are missing, leaving 97 complete and two incomplete compositions. It is a rare example of an 18th-century compilation that has been made available in a modern edition. In one movement in binary or ternary form, a few have been identified as pieces by Hasse and Zipoli. New edition by Jan Chwałek (Lublin: Polihymnia, 1994). 

An in-depth discussion of the 16th century tablatures can be found in Willi Apel’s History of Keyboard Music to 1700, pp. 100ff. An excellent book, in English, is The Polish Organ, which is in two volumes (Warsaw: Sutkowski Edition, 1993). Volume one, The instrument and its history, by Jerzy Gołos, covers the Middle Ages to the 20th century and contains selected documents and comprehensive lists of organ builders, places, location of manuscript sources, and a bibliography of some 36 pages (the majority of the entries are, understandably, in Polish). There is also a map and some 90 black and white illustrations, mainly of consoles and actions. 

Volume two, Organ cases in Poland as works of art, originally by Ewa Smulikowska and thoroughly revised by Jerzy Gołos, discusses in detail the organ case in the church, the symbolic and conceptual meaning of the carved subjects according to medieval and Renaissance metaphysics, organbuilders and wood carvers in the regional centers, evolution of the case, and iconographical themes. Part II of the volume deals with many cases by location; over 200 photographs are included, several in color. 

Bibliography

Unfortunately, very little material about this repertoire has been published in English, but there are articles in Italian in certain volumes of L’Organo as listed below.

Apel, Willi. The History of Keyboard Music to 1700. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1972.

Brzezińska, Barbara. Repertuar polskich tabulatur organowych z pierwszej połowy xvi wieku. Kraków: Polskie Wydawn. Muzyczne, 1987.

Caldwell, John. “Sources of Keyboard Music to 1660.” New Grove Dictionary of Music, 2001, 24:19–39. 

Gołos, G. “Il manoscritto 1/220 della Società di Musica di Varsavia, importante fonte di musica organistica cinquecentesca.” L’Organo ii (1961), 129–46. 

———. “Tre intavolature manoscritte di musica vocale rintracciate in Polonia.” L’Organo iii (1962), 123–48.  

Sutkowski, A. and O. Mischiati: “Una preziosa fonte manoscritta di musica strumentale: L’Intavolatura di Pelplin.” L’Organo ii (1961), 53–72.

White, John R. “The Tablature of Johannes of Lublin.” Musica Disciplina 17 (1963), 137–162.

The booklets included with The complete Warsaw Tablature and Adam z Wągrowca, Piotr Żelechowski and Petrus de Drusina (Acte Préalable APO164 and APO165, reviewed in The Diapason, September 2014, 18–19) recorded by Rostislaw Wygranienko contain valuable information about the Warsaw and Ostrameczew or Polotsk Tablatures. 

For further information: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polish_organ_tablatures . 

Photo credit: Marijim Thoene

During his career Joel Kuznik has served as a college organist and professor, a church musician, a pastor, and as a business executive on Fifth Avenue, Wall Street, and at MetLife. After several years of retirement from business, he resumed writing for professional journals, something he had done since his college days. After attending the Bachfest 2003 in Leipzig, he again began writing articles and reviews. With over 60 pieces in print ranging from reviews of concerts and festivals, travelogues, books on church music, concert hall organs, CDs and DVDs, he was recognized and named to the Music Critics Association of North America (MCANA) in May 2005. He is also a member of the American Bach Society and serves on the board of the Bach Vespers at Holy Trinity in New York City, where he has lived for 32 years. His organ teachers were Austin C. Lovelace, Frederick Swann, Ronald Arnatt, David Craighead, Jean Langlais, Marie-Madeleine Duruflé-Chevalier, and Anton Heiller. As a member of the AGO, he has served as dean of the Ft. Wayne chapter, on the executive board of the New York City chapter, and on the national financial board. He holds a BA summa cum laude from Concordia Sr. College (formerly at Ft. Wayne), a Min.Div and STM from Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, and a MM from Eastman School of Music.

Latest Bach manuscript discovery:
Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält, BWV 1128
The discovery of a Bach manuscript always raises curiosity and excites expectant interest. This latest work, an organ chorale fantasia just discovered in March, is a reminder that new revelations can come at any time from any source.
Bach’s copy of the Calov Bible was found in an attic in Frankenmuth, Michigan in 1934, but forgotten until after WWII, in 1962. More recently in 1999, after a 20-year detective hunt worthy of a spy mystery and with a tip from an East German librarian, Christian Wolff tracked down C.P.E. Bach’s estate, with 5,100 musical manuscripts, to Kiev. Originally in the Berlin State Library, the Russian army absconded with this treasure trove of manuscripts after the war. Included were works by Johann Sebastian, among which were his last work, a motet he apparently prepared for his own funeral.
In 2004 an aria by Bach was found in Weimar in a box of birthday cards among holdings of the Anna Amalia Library, just months before it was destroyed by fire. Two years later in 2006 from the same Weimar library, researchers also found Bach’s oldest manuscripts in his own hand: organ works by Buxtehude and Reinken he copied at the age of fifteen. Most recently in March of 2008, a newly discovered organ work was found in an estate sale in Leipzig, in a sense, right under the nose of the musicians at St. Thomas!
This is a double review. The first discusses the organ score and reveals a fascinating history of teacher-student transmission, estate sales, alert and not-so-alert librarians, savvy editors, guesswork and unanswered questions. Much like studies in genealogy, one can trace documented history back only so far and, in this case, only to the mid-nineteenth century, 100 years after Bach. The second review on the CD, featuring both the organ fantasia and the cantata based on the same chorale, was released on June 13, 2008 at the opening concert of the Leipzig Bachfest and shares Ullrich Böhme’s experience of studying and preparing a first performance of a Bach work. How many have had that opportunity!
Obviously this is not the end of the story. No doubt surprises and discoveries still await detection by sharp-sighted scholars and through pure serendipity.

Bach, Johann Sebastian, Choralfantasie für Orgel [2 Manuale und Pedal] über “Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält,” BWV 1128, First Edition, edited by Stephan Blaut and Michael Pacholke with a foreword by Hans-Joachim Schulze. 2008, Ortus Musikverlag, Kassel, 24 pp., €13.50; <www.ortus-musikverlag.de/&gt;.

Contents
Prologue by Schulze, musicologist and former director of the Bach-Archiv Leipzig. Critical report on Source A (Halle, Martin Luther University, University-State Library of Sachsen-Anhalt, with signature) and Source B (Leipzig, Bach-Archiv, no signature) with score variants noted. Chorale melody from Wittenberg (1533, perhaps 1529) and eight-verse text by Justus Jonas (1493–1555) based on Psalm 124. Facsimiles of cover page and first page of musical score. Critical edition, based on Source A: 85 bars, pp. 1–9.

History
How is it that an organ work by Bach was just discovered and authenticated March 15, 2008 after it had passed through so many hands, including collectors, musicians, editors and auction houses?
According to Schulze’s foreword, this is what is known to date. The first public record of this chorale fantasia is 1845, almost 100 years after Bach’s death, listed among organ pieces by “Sebastian Bach” in the estate auction for Johann Nicolaus Julius Kötschau (1788–1845), once organist at St. Mary’s in Halle/Salle. According to public record, he acquired the pieces in an 1814 auction along with the “Clavier-Büchlein of Wilhelm Friedemann” (1720), Bach’s son and once an organist in Halle, who had passed the scores on to his distant relative and student Johann Christian (1743–1814), known as the “Clavier-Bach.” Kötschau, who apparently was reluctant to share his prize collection, eventually relented, first loaning it to Mendelssohn (1840) and then Leipzig publishers C. F. Peters (1843). However, there is no evidence that anyone recognized the significance of what they saw.
In the 1845 auction of Kötschau’s estate, the manuscript, along with other Bach works, was acquired by Friedrich August Gotthold (1778–1858), a former member of the Sing-Akademie Berlin and then director of the Collegium in Königsberg, East Prussia. In 1852, in order to preserve his collection, he donated it to the Königsberg Library, but it only drew attention 25 years later when Joseph Müller, in spite of opposition from superiors, prepared a catalogue, which on p. 93 lists “24 books of organ compositions by J. S. Bach,” of which fascicle No. 5 lists “Fantasia Sopra il Corale ‘Wo Gott der Herr nicht bey uns hält’ pro Organo à 2 Clav. e Pedale.”
This got the attention of Wilhelm Rust (1822–1892), who had it sent on a library loan to Berlin, where he copied it. This transcription of September 8, 1877 has become “Source A” of this edition, and it is unknown whether Rust, as editor of 26 volumes of the 46-volume Bach-Gesamtausgabe, intended to include it. He resigned over conflicts, particularly with Philipp Spitta, but got even in 1878, in a sense, by sharing the composition with Spitta’s rival Carl Hermann Bittner, whose Vol. IV of his second edition of
“J. S. Bach” (Dresden 1880 / Berlin 1881) includes “141. Wo Gott der Herr nicht bey uns hält. Fantasia sopra il Chorale G-moll. (Königsberger Bibliothek.)” For whatever reason the chorale fantasia was not included in the Gesamtausgabe, so Wolfgang Schmieder in his Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis (Leipzig 1950) put a fragment of it in an appendix (BWV Anh. II 71).
After Rust’s death in 1892, a large part of his collection went to his student, Erich Prieger (1849–1913), who wrote an extensive essay in 1885 on “Wilhelm Rust and His Bach Edition.” Prieger’s collection in turn was put up for auction after WW I in three sections, one of which went in 1924 to the Cologne book dealer M. Lempertz and refers to many copies of “Bachiana” from the 18th and 19th centuries, including in Lot No. 157 with Rust’s collection of manuscripts.
In summary, the transmission was from Wilhelm Friedemann to Johann Christian to Kötschau, and then from Gotthold to the Königsberg Library to Rust to Prieger, and ultimately from Cologne to . . . .

Discovery
When on March 15, 2008 the Leipzig auction firm of Johannes Wend offered Lot No. 153 with “manuscripts from the estate of Wilhelm Rust. Mostly compositions of his own or arrangements of works by Bach . . . ,” no one could have anticipated that this included parts of Prieger’s collection and the chorale fantasia BWV Anh. II 71. The Rust items were acquired by the University-State Museum of Halle/Salle, and finally due to the fastidious work of two editors, Stephan Blaut and Michael Pacholke of Halle University, the chorale fantasia was authenticated and has become BWV 1128!
This edition is based on two 19th-century manuscripts: “Source A” by Rust and “Source B,” a copy made by Ernst Naumann sometime after 1890 in the collection of the Bach-Archiv Leipzig. Researchers, according to Schulze, are still hopeful that Kötschau’s copy survived WW II and is still to be found, perhaps in a Russian library.
On June 13, 2008, Ullrich Böhme, organist, St. Thomas, played the first Leipzig performance of BWV 1128 at the opening concert of the Bachfest, which included Bach’s Cantata 178 on the same chorale, sung by the St. Thomas Choir. The same day a CD by Rondeau Production with both compositions and works by Rust was released. The score by Ortus was published on June 10, showing how rapidly new works can be distributed worldwide.
The chorale still exists in German hymnals, but apparently has not survived in American Lutheran usage. The work, a large-scale fantasia believed to date from 1705–1710, is of moderate difficulty in four contrapuntal voices scored for Rückpositiv, Oberwerk and Pedal. After an introductory section, the ornamented chorale appears in the R.H. beginning with bar 12, proceeding verse by verse with interludes, chromaticism and echo sections. It concludes with a coda in a flurry typical of stylus phantasticus, all of which should make this “new work” very exciting indeed for Bach fans.

Bach, Johann Sebastian, Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns hält. The Newly Discovered Organ Work: Choralefantasia BWV 1128. Organ and choral works by Ammerbach, J. S. Bach, Rust, and Schein. Ullrich Böhme, organist, on the Bach Organ at Leipzig’s St. Thomas Church. St. Thomas Choir with the Gewandhaus Orchestra; Georg Christoph Biller, cantor and conductor. 2008, Rondeau Production ROP6023, 50 minutes, €15.95; brochure 39 pp.; <http://www.rondeau.de/&gt;.
Imagine being the organist of St. Thomas Church in Leipzig, picking up the newspaper on March 16, 2008 and reading the headline, “Undiscovered Organ Work by Johann Sebastian Bach Found in Halle.” So Ullrich Böhme begins his very personal essay, “From Mühlhausen to St. Thomas in Leipzig” (brochure, pp. 6–7). He was further intrigued when he learned the work had been found among scores belonging to a predecessor at St. Thomas, Wilhelm Rust (organist, then cantor 1878–1892), and purchased for 2,500 euros by two scholars from nearby University of Halle. The paper claimed they “snatched away a true sensation from Leipzig,” when in fact the chorale had a close connection to Halle. The melody of the chorale had been written by Justus Jonas, a friend of Luther and the reformer of Halle serving as pastor of St. Mary’s.
The Bach-Archiv did not have a copy of the piece, but by April 28 Böhme received the score from the publisher, Ortus. He spent the next day at home studying and practicing, and then on evening of April 30 he played the work on the Bach Organ at St. Thomas, experimenting with tempos and registrations. It is probable that Bach played this piece himself, but he also may have given it to one of his sons or students to play on July 30, 1724 as a prelude to the Cantata BWV 178 on the same chorale for the eighth Sunday after Trinity. Böhme believes this is confirmed because in Bach’s time the choir and orchestra performed in the lower “Kammerton,” whereas the organs at St. Thomas were tuned a step higher in “Chorton,” so the pitches g- and a-minor match.
The work, a chorale fantasia, reflects influence of the North German composers Buxtehude, Reinken, and Bruhns. Three other examples of this genre by Bach are heard on the CD: the familiar Ein feste Burg (BWV 720), Christ lag in Todesbanden (BWV 718), and Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern (BWV 739).
There is only one organ that Bach played (including those in Lübeck and Hanover) for which BWV 1128 could have been written because of the requirements for a Rückpositiv, Oberwerk, Pedal and the extent of the manual ranges. That is the Wender organ at St. Blasius in Mühlhausen, where Bach served between 1707 and 1708. The original organ has not survived, but a copy with the same specification was built in the late 1950s.
Additional compositions on the chorale, all by former St. Thomas organists or cantors, are a Tabulatur by Ammerbach (organist, 1550–1597); duet by St. Thomas Choir Boys from Opella nova by Johann Schein (cantor, 1616–1630); and Cantata BWV 178 by J. S. Bach (cantor, 1723–1750). Also included are two pieces by Wilhelm Rust (organist, 1878–80 and cantor, 1880–1892): Motet for Two Four-Voiced Choirs, op. 40, on “Aus der Tiefe ruf ich, Herr, zu dir” and an organ fantasia, op. 40/3 on “Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend.”
The handsome brochure is replete with photos and information in addition to Böhme’s personal account: fascinating program notes by Martin Petzoldt (Head of the Neue Bachgesellschaft and Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Leipzig); cantata text for BWV 178; biographies for Böhme, Biller, Susanne Krumbiegel (alto), Martin Petzold (tenor), and Mathias Weichert (bass); background on the St. Thomas Choir and Gewandhaus Orchestra; and finally the specification and history of the 2000 Bach Organ by Gerald Woehl.
What is eminently apparent in these compositions and performances is a devotional consciousness of the text and the earnest intent to reflect its meaning. The performers are all steeped in the Bach milieu and tradition, performing Bach week after week, year after year in worship and concert. Böhme’s playing is equally elegant and eloquent, ever confident, yet always sensitive to the chorale text, realizing the Lutheran approach, which is never performance for its own sake, but music as a servant of theology and worship. While this CD largely features organ music and Böhme’s extraordinary playing, the other performers—St. Thomas Choir and Gewandhaus Orchestra under Cantor Georg Christoph Biller—are, as expected, exceptional. This CD and its brochure should certainly pique the interest, as Bach would say, of both “Kenner und Liebhaber” (professionals and music lovers).

Thanks to Ullrich Böhme, Organist, St. Thomas Church, Leipzig, who provided invaluable information, including contacts for getting the score and the CD within ten days of its first performance in Leipzig on June 13 and providing the specification of the Wender organ in Mühlhausen.

Musical examples used with permission from the publisher ortus musikverlag.

Jay Zoller is organist at South Parish Congregational Church in Augusta, Maine, where he plays the church’s historic 1866 E. & G.G. Hook organ. He holds degrees from the University of New Hampshire and the School of Theology at Boston University. He is a retired designer for the Andover Organ Company and currently designs for the Organ Clearing House. He resides in Newcastle, Maine, with his wife Rachel. In addition to writing several articles about Heinz Wunderlich for The American Organist, Choir and Organ, and The Diapason, he has played in all-Wunderlich recitals in Hamburg, Germany in 1999, 2004, and 2009. His article, “Heinz Wunderlich at 90,” appeared in the April 2009 issue of The Diapason.

This article might also be entitled “What possessed me to try and perform all of Mendelssohn’s organ works?” I can remember well working on the Prelude and Fugue No. 1 in C Minor during the beginning of my undergraduate degree. Fortunately, I have forgotten most of the long hours I put in practicing, but I do recall that it was quite a few before the music was ready to be heard by an audience.
Over the years I have added several more of the major Mendelssohn pieces to my repertoire; the Preludes and Fugues Nos. 2 and 3, and three of the Sonatas, Nos. 1, 2, and 6. After a time, I came across music that had been considered lost after World War II; I discovered in my newly purchased Bärenreiter Edition a whole new world of Mendelssohn. I immediately learned and played the Fantasie and Fugue in G Minor, a piece that the 14-year-old Felix had composed.
As 2009 approached, I thought about how nice it would be to play all the works in honor of the Mendelssohn 200th birthday. I looked at some of the other pieces, but I was busy with reworking a Wunderlich piece (The Diapason, April 2009 and September 2009) and was scheduled to play it in Germany in the spring.
After the trip was over, I began to look at my two volumes again. How bad could it be, really? I already knew half of the Sonatas. I knew all the Preludes and Fugues; and, the Fantasy and Fugue. I was halfway there!
Wrong! There is a tremendous amount of music, and just because some of it was written by a 14-year-old doesn’t mean that it is easy. The young Felix was a mature composer at age 14, with 100 compositions to his credit. So, I continued to practice, devoting my summer to the Mendelssohn compositions, and have found that my appreciation of this man has increased tenfold.
The organ works require three recitals in order to program them all. I decided to include two of the Sonatas in each program, beginning with No. 5 and No. 6 in the first concert and working backward. One of the three Preludes and Fugues opened each program, beginning with the first. I programmed the remaining works between those according to the year they were written (some early works in each program), the keys, the lengths, and the volume, so there was variety.
As I practiced, I also re-read Mendelssohn—A Life in Music by R. Larry Todd, a book that I found to be most helpful for background information about Felix as well as discussions on some of the organ works. The editor’s notes in the Bärenreiter Edition are also most helpful. The book Fanny Mendelssohn by Françoise Tillard was also a big help for family information. As I learned more, I discovered that I wanted to share some of my knowledge with the audience. Then too, some of my audience began asking questions even before the series began. The concerts took place October 4, 18, and November 8.
I began my first recital with an overview of Felix and then went into the children’s schooling and training in keyboard and composition. In later talks I touched on how the Sonatas and Preludes and Fugues came to be written, and at the last concert I talked about the family tree, their history, and how the name Bartholdy came to be added to the Mendelssohn name. In addition, I made occasional comments on particular pieces of music as I went along.
My second interest, which was stimulated by my visit to the Mendelssohn home in Leipzig last spring, was in Felix’s artwork. Many people do not realize that Felix was an accomplished artist as well as musician, and I wanted to have people see some of his work. I managed to put together a very small art show of prints, which I encouraged people to look at during the receptions that followed each concert. The receptions were hosted by my wife and allowed me to listen to some of the excitement that had been generated by the music.
The cycle of Mendelssohn’s organ works is hard work, but has proved to be educational to me in more ways than just learning new music. My appreciation for the accomplishments of this unique man has grown immensely, and now that the series is over I feel a strange sadness as though saying good-bye to a good friend. But then, it is not really good-bye because we will always have his organ music.

The organ
The towns of Damariscotta and Newcastle sit in a beautiful area known as mid-coast Maine. I had decided that I wanted to play these recitals near home, and the two towns boast four beautiful little tracker organs: Simmons in the Baptist church, Cole and Woodberry in the Catholic church, and Hutchings in both the Congregational and Episcopal churches. After some consideration, I decided to play the series in the church to which I belong, St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, primarily because the organ has a reed on both manuals. St. Andrew’s is nestled next to the tidal Damariscotta River and is surrounded by woods and large old homes.
The church and the organ case were designed by Henry Vaughn (1845–1917), who also designed three buildings at Bowdoin College and the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Vaughn designed St. Andrew’s in the “half-timber” style, which was popular in England in the 15th century. The exterior of the church gives little hint of the richness of the interior. The church, according to Vaughn’s own description:

. . . is divided into seven bays by arches which form the principals of the roof. The chancel consists of two bays and has an arched roof (barrel-vaulted) divided by ribs into square panels and decorated with emblems and monograms. The nave has an open timber roof.
The dominant colors are olive green and maroon. The overall scheme of elaborately painted stencil work is Vaughn’s design. When the vestry of the church was unwilling to fund it, Vaughn did it himself, taking an entire summer and working principally on his back, recalling the tradition of Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel.
The gilded triptych is a London re-creation of a 14th-century Florentine triptych. The central panel is probably a copy of a Perugino “Madonna and Child, Enthroned.” The figures on the side panels are said to have been taken from the “Baptism of Christ” by Andrea del Verocchio, now in the Uffizi in Florence, Italy. This is a most beautiful setting for listening to the music of Felix Mendelssohn.
The organ was built by George Hutchings of Boston in 1888. The casework was designed by Vaughn and shows his exquisite handling of 15th-century flamboyant woodwork. Although not large, and despite speaking from the side of the chancel, the organ sound carries nicely throughout the sanctuary. The stoplist is as follows:

GREAT
8′ Open Diapason
8′ Melodia
8′ Dolcissimo
4′ Octave
4′ Flute D’Amour
22⁄3′ Twelfth
2′ Fifteenth
8′ Trumpet

SWELL
16′ Bourdon
8′ Open Diapason
8′ Salicional
8′ Stopped Diapason
4′ Flute Harmonique
4′ Violina
2′ Flautino
8′ Oboe

PEDAL
16′ Bourdon

Swell to Pedal
Great to Pedal
Swell to Great
Swell to Great 4′ (hitch-down)
Great to Pedal reversible
Tremolo

The organ also has four mechanical pistons operated by foot pedals: Forte Great, Piano Great, Forte Swell, Piano Swell.

Bibliography
Mendelssohn—A Life in Music by R. Larry Todd. Oxford University Press, 2003, ISBN 0-19-511043-9.
Fanny Mendelssohn by François Tillard. Amadeus Press, Portland, Oregon, 1992.
Mendelssohn Bartholdy New Edition of the Complete Organ Works, Bärenreiter Urtext, edited by Christoph Albrecht. Vol. I and II (1993 and 1994), ISBN M-006-48924-4 and ISMN M-006-48925-1.
A Short Tour of St. Andrew’s, Newcastle, Maine by the Rev. Dr. Stephen J. White XVIII, Rector.

Larry Palmer’s first article for The Diapason in November 1962 was “Hugo Distler: 20 Years Later.” Appointed Harpsichord Editor in 1969, he continues to write, record, play, and teach: since 1970 as Professor of Harpsichord and Organ in the Meadows School of the Arts, Southern Methodist University, Dallas.

Entartete—“degenerate”—was a derogatory term used in Nazi Germany to characterize art works deemed to be “un-German” or “impure.” The word itself originated as a biological term to describe a plant or animal that has changed so much that it no longer belongs to its species.
In 1937 a large exhibition of entartete paintings and graphic arts was mounted in Munich, birthplace of the National Socialist movement. Works by Max Beckmann, Marc Chagall, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Max Ernst, Oskar Kokoschka, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Emil Nolde and many others were displayed to show the degradation of modern art by artists unacceptable to the regime: Nazi-denounced “Jews, Bolsheviks, persons of color, and perverts.”
As contrast, directly across the plaza, there was another exhibition, many of its pieces chosen by Adolph Hitler himself. This show demonstrated “true German art”—realistic representations of heroic blond Aryan figures by the Führer’s favorite sculptor Arno Breker, and his “court painter” Adolf Ziegler.
That music, too, could be degenerate was a concept put forward as justification for denying performances of works by such contemporary masters as Arnold Schoenberg, Paul Hindemith, and Kurt Weill. For the most part, the creators of these works were forced to flee Hitler’s oppressive totalitarian regime or face incarceration in concentration camps. To find a score by Distler among those deemed modernist and unfit for German ears seems unimaginable to present-day auditors, but such a travesty did occur.
During October of that same year, 1937, a week-long Festival of German Church Music took place in Berlin. Among a plethora of new music, several of Hugo Distler’s compositions were heard. In addition to the choral and organ music that had secured his reputation as one of the most talented composers of his generation, Distler’s secular magnum opus, the Concerto for Harpsichord and Strings, opus 14, was given a prominent place in a Sunday concert at the Philharmonic Concert Hall, with the composer’s Lübeck colleague, Marien-organist Walter Kraft, as soloist. The conductor was none other than Dr. Peter Raabe, president of the Nazi music regulatory board (the Reichsmusikkammer), so one might have expected that the official press would use only superlatives to praise the concert.
Not so! Here is an excerpt from one of the more scathing reviews:

. . . there was the general aggravation of Hugo Distler’s Concerto for Harpsichord, an “in-your-face” example of degenerate art. The delicate domestic harpsichord was utilized in an unnatural way—like a piano. At the Finale the young composer seemed to be driven by the devil! This motoric noisy music chattered endlessly on . . . Listeners could only laugh. Perhaps it would have been better had they whistled and pondered the biblical quotation: He mocked only himself . . .1

An earlier description of the Concerto’s 1936 premiere in Hamburg, read:

Stuttering rhythms, fractured mood and brutal background sounds fulfill the intellectual aspect of the formal side . . . only to a very limited extent. It appears to be difficult for some people to break loose from the idolatry of an outgrown, stereotypical [Kurt] Weill era. Distler must—in our opinion—change a great deal at the human level in order to properly exploit his considerable abilities.2

Distler’s music degenerate, brutal, diabolic? Possibly, perhaps, to ears deafened by militaristic brass bands or the loud general cacophony of the government propaganda, but otherwise, unlikely.
How did church composer Hugo Distler come to write a major composition for harpsichord, a far from ubiquitous keyboard instrument in the 1930s? As Wanda Landowska remarked (about J. S. Bach), to understand the greatness of a master composer, one needs to place it in the context of music by his contemporaries.
Urged by Leipzig professor Hermann Grabner to base his composition studies on music of the past, specifically that of the Baroque, and influenced further by his organ teacher, Günther Ramin, one of Germany’s pioneering harpsichordists during the 1920s,3 Distler was evidently drawn to the instrument. In addition to Ramin’s public performances, there was new music for harpsichord being created during Distler’s student days. In 1927 Carl Orff (who was to become a household name ten years later with his wildly successful choral/orchestral work Carmina Burana) composed a Kleines Konzert nach Lautensätzen for winds, harpsichord, and percussion. Based on lute pieces by Vincentio (Vincenzo) Galilei and Jean-Baptiste Besard, the work is a 13-minute precursor to a similar work by Francis Poulenc, the Suite Française (1935), also based on Renaissance dance music (by Claude Gervaise), and scored for the same instrumental forces.
Forced by economic necessity to leave the conservatory course before completing his degree, Distler auditioned for and won the position of organist at the Jakobikirche in the north German city of Lübeck, a position he assumed on January 1, 1931. There he began a brilliant career as composer of choral and organ music, with the smaller of the church’s two baroque instruments as his special muse and guide.4 Somehow, despite a meager salary, Distler managed to acquire a two-manual Neupert concert harpsichord in November of that same year5 and used it on November 29 for the first performance of his Kleine Adventsmusik, opus 4.6 Through the succeeding years of his tenure at St. Jakobi, Distler frequently employed his harpsichord for a series of vesper concerts, as well as for chamber music in other Lübeck venues.
Distler actually began writing an extended harpsichord concerto during the early 1930s, a fact that went unnoticed until I discovered fair-copy segments of it in a trunk of musical manuscripts recently found and sent from Lübeck, then stored beneath the guest bed at Frau Distler’s post-war home in Bavaria.7 The physical remnants of this work explained a seeming time discrepancy in his letter to Hermann Grabner (dated 17 April 1931): “Work on my harpsichord concerto, which would have soon been finished, was unfortunately interrupted by another task [a Luther Cantata for a Lübeck Reformation Festival] . . .”
In another communication dated 17 August, this one to Gerhard Schwarz, the young composer wrote, “I have also completed a Concerto for Harpsichord and Eleven Solo Instruments that I have given to Professor Ramin to look over; so far as I can tell, he would like to perform it this winter, perhaps even in Berlin. In addition, Frau Mann-Weiss wants to do it in Hamburg for the New Music series, also this winter.”8
However, it was more than additional commissions that prevented the first performance, expected in March of 1933. The presumptive dedicatee and soloist of the Chamber Concerto for Harpsichord and Eleven Solo Instruments, Günther Ramin, did not like the score as it was presented to him, and asked for extensive revisions. In a letter to his fiancée, Waltraut Thienhaus, Distler expressed anger at his former teacher’s request. The work, missing many pages by the time of its rediscovery in 1968, was not performed until 1998. Although it is now available in a performing edition by Michael Töpel, I find it a flawed and unpleasant work.9 Score one for Professor Ramin!
Further annoyance for the young composer may have been triggered by the fact that Ramin DID play a Chamber Concerto for Harpsichord and String Orchestra in the spring of 1933, but it was a work by Distler’s exact contemporary Kurt Hessenberg,10 later to be associated in Frankfurt with another Leipzig fellow student, the blind German organist Helmut Walcha. Although I have not seen a score of Hessenberg’s Concerto, if it holds as much musical charm as several of the Zehn Kleine Präludien für Klavier oder Clavichord, opus 35 (published by Schott in 1949), it may be a work worth searching for.
Hessenberg, too, endured the political idiocy of the 1930s. He recounted,

My Second String Quartet . . . has a special “history”: its premiere by the Lenzewski Quartet was on the program of a concert [sponsored by] the Reichsmusikkammer in Berlin [1937]. However, because I was still very much unknown, the piece was performed before a board from the aforementioned institution in my absence for approval, and provoked the displeasure of that body. So the piece, which in spite of its adherence to tonality reveals the influence of Hindemith, perhaps also of Bartòk, was dropped from the program. This decision was criticized at that time in a music journal, as a result of which more attention was directed toward me than probably would have been the case if a public performance had taken place. The Quartet was premiered soon after in Frankfurt by the Lenzewski Quartet, excellently, and with success, and not much later in an independent concert of this ensemble in Berlin as well.11

Hessenberg apparently had a more sanguine outlook than Distler (whom, he wrote, he had met only twice, despite the fact that both were students at the same time in the same city). Balanced and genial in character as in music, Hessenberg adapted well to pre- and post-war necessities, living until 1984.
Other harpsichord offerings from the Germany of the 1930s include Music for 2 Violins and Cembalo 1932 by Heinrich Kaminski (1886–1946), composed in post-Regerian thick texture by a favorite composer of Thomaskantor Karl Straube, and the appropriately spare 1934 Spinettmusik by Rudolf Wagner-Régeny (1903–1969), composer, pianist and clavichordist of Romanian origin, perhaps historically shunned because he was one of two approved surrogates who wrote pure “Aryan” alternative music to replace the banned Midsummer Night’s Dream music of Felix Mendelssohn (for performance at the 1935 Reichstagung of the Nazi Kulturgemeinde in Düsseldorf).12
Wagner-Régeny’s seven short pieces compare favorably with Distler’s Dreissig Spielstücke of 1938,13 and since Distler, too, joined the Nazi party on May 1, 1933, perhaps one need no longer cast neither aspersions nor stones at either composer for such ancient political miscalculations. At least in Distler’s case, it is evident that he became increasingly unsympathetic with the government authorities, and finally committed the ultimate act of civil disobedience by removing himself from earthly existence altogether.
Unquestionably the compositional high point encountered thus far among examples of Third Reich harpsichord music is Distler’s (Second) Harpsichord Concerto, with its vivacious Stravinskian first movement; hauntingly lovely, lyrical second movement featuring arching solo violin lines above percussive, insistent rhythmic figures from the harpsichord; and culminating with a rollicking third movement based on Samuel Scheidt’s four-part harmonization of the folk song Ei, du feiner Reiter. Distler’s variations on this sturdy German tune certainly display wit and good humor, especially in a solo harpsichord parody of the mechanistic technique-building keyboard exercises of Carl Czerny. Two further keyboard solo variations (six and twelve) show an idiomatic variety of texture. The note C held over by the second violin serves as a breathtaking common tone modulation for the A-flat major return of the theme, set as a phrase by phrase dialog between strings and harpsichord, concluding with a whimsical employment of ever-longer periods of silence, à la Haydn, from which the final expected answer by the harpsichord never occurs at all. This lengthy silence is ended when the exasperated strings plunge, pall-mall, into a repetition of the wildly motoric tenth variation to provide a vigorous finale. Quirky, or even sarcastic, yes, but scarcely degenerate!
At the first performance of this Concerto the work had an additional movement, Allegro spirituoso e scherzando, expanding by more than six minutes a work that already clocked in at more than half an hour! Several critics suggested pruning the composition by deleting this extra movement, and the composer took their advice. Subsequent performances utilized only the three movements described above, and the printed score presents this three-movement version. The additional movement works as a stand-alone piece with strings, the manner in which I played its modern premiere during the 1980 American Guild of Organists national convention in Minneapolis.14
That the composer found the harpsichord to his liking was shown in one further extended work, until recently known only as a reference citation, the Schauspielmusik zu Ritter Blaubart [Theatre Music for Knight Bluebeard]. Parts for this incidental music assembled for a cancelled Berlin production of Ludwig Tieck’s play were among manuscripts turned over to the Bärenreiter-Verlag by Waltraut Distler, a few years after the end of the war. Since there were other items both complete and more marketable to bring into print, the stage music was basically overlooked. Reassembled and organized by Michael Töpel, the score was published, at last, at the turn of the new millennium, and given a first performance in 2002. Now there is a recording (Musicaphon M 56860), issued early in 2008.
Distler recycled quite a lot of his Harpsichord Concerto for this incidental music, with very interesting additions of wind instruments to the original strings. Three short, newly composed vocal insertions have secco harpsichord accompaniments. One movement [War Music] is an orchestral version of two pieces from Distler’s Eleven Piano Pieces, opus 15 [Fanfare; With Drums and Pipes]. Most appealing is the sarabande-like Overture to the Second Act (arranged for harpsichord and strings from the second movement of String Quartet in A minor, opus 20/I), truly one of the loveliest of Distler’s instrumental works. (The recorded performance, however, has the harpsichord consistently anticipating the strings!) A welcome bonus of the recent disc is the digital remastering of the first recording of the opus 14 Concerto, made in 1964 by the superbly musical French harpsichordist Huguette Dreyfus and the Deutsche Bach Solistin, conducted by Martin Stephani.
Concerning his Concerto Distler wrote to a pupil: “It is an angry piece . . . If it is so ‘modern’, then it is not because I wanted to appear really ‘modern’ for once, but because I am such a dislocated puppet.”15 As his last sacred motets demonstrate, he was willing to disregard the government’s strictures against writing new church music. Published after the war as part of his cycle of Sacred Choral Music, opus 12, the two motets conceived as opening and closing choruses for a planned St. John Passion, never to be completed, showed the composer’s increased mastery of form and expanded use of chromatics. (The fugue subject of the last motet, Fürwahr er trug unsere Krankheit [Surely He hath borne our griefs], contains ten of the twelve pitches found in the chromatic scale.)
Five years after the Concerto performance so stigmatized by the Nazi press, the composer’s mounting dread of military conscription fueled his descent into depression, and led him to turn on the gas in the Berlin apartment where he ended his life on November 1, 1942. Ironically, only a few days later his name appeared on the Führerliste—a register of those individuals permanently exempted from the military draft, persons deemed to be more important at home than in the armed forces.
Hitler’s much-vaunted “thousand year Reich” survived Distler by only three years, falling 988 years short of its self-proclaimed longevity. But as we celebrate the composer’s centenary, his music continues increasingly to move and beautify our musical life. Political movements are transient; artistic worth endures.

Hugo Distler’s compositions
for (or with) harpsichord
Opus 4. Kleine Adventsmusik [A Little Advent Music], Breitkopf und Härtel 4967. First performed 28 November 1931, using harpsichord as the keyboard instrument. English edition (Concordia Publishing House).
Opus 6/I. Christ, der du bist der helle Tag [Christ Who Alone Art Light of Day], Bärenreiter 636. First performed 26 Februrary 1933, with harpsichord. English edition (Concordia).
Opus 9/I. An die Natur (1933). First performed 16 August 1933 at the Nationalsozialistischen Musikfest in Bad Pyrmont. Bärenreiter 683.
Opus 11/I. Choralkantate Wo Gott zuhaus nit gibt sein Gunst, harpsichord or organ. Composed 1933, published 1935. Bärenreiter 758.
Opus 14. Konzert für Cembalo und Streichorchester (1935–1936). First performed 29 April 1936, Hamburger Musikhalle, Hugo Distler, harpsichordist, Dr. Hans Hoffmann, conductor. Published October 1936; Bärenreiter 7393. An additional movement, deleted from the original published edition Allegro spirituoso e scherzando is now available as Bärenreiter 7393, edited by Michael Töpfel.
Opus 17. Geistliche Konzerte für eine hohe Singstimme [Three Sacred Concertos for High Voice and Keyboard: Organ, Harpsichord, or Piano]. Composed in 1937, published 1938. Bärenreiter 1231. English edition (Concordia).
Opus 18/I. Dreissig Spielstücke für die Kleinorgel oder andere Tasteninstrumente. 1938. Published June 1938. Bärenreiter 1288.
Opus 21/II. Kleine Sing- und Spielmusik: Variations on “Wo soll ich mich hinkehren?” (Piano or harpsichord). Composed 1941 (doubtful according to Lüdemann), published 1952. Bärenreiter 2046.

Without opus number
Kammerkonzert für Cembalo und elf Soloinstrumente (1932). Mss incomplete. First performed 28 November 1988, Martin Haselböck, harpsichordist and conductor. Published 1988. Bärenreiter 7687.
Ritter Blaubart (1940)—Theatre music for Ludwig Tieck’s play. Chamber orchestra includes harpsichord (prominently). First performed 29 September 2002. Bärenreiter 7711, published 2001.
Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her. Kleines Konzert and Choral. Neue Weihnachtsmusik für Klavier, Orgel, und andere Tasteninstrumente. Bärenreiter Collection (1935), edited by Reinhard Baum.

A basic bibliography
Books
Larry Palmer: Hugo Distler and his Church Music. St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1967. (Out of print; often available through Amazon.com or Alibris.com).
The most comprehensive (and recent) book on Distler is available only in German, Winfried Lüdemann: Hugo Distler—Eine musikalische Biographie. Augsburg: Wissner-Verlag, 2002 [ISBN 3-89639-353-7]. An exhaustive biography based on all available letters and archival holdings. Complete listing of Distler’s works, analysis of the music; many photographs and musical examples.

Periodical literature in English
Jan Bender: “Hugo Distler and his Organ Music” [An interview conducted by William Bates], The American Organist, December 1982, 42–43.
Mark Bergass: “Hugo Distler’s First Vespers at St. Jakobi in Lübeck,” The American Organist, April 1982, 174–177.
Larry Palmer: “Hugo Distler’s Harpsichord Concerto,” The Diapason, May 1969, 12–13. “Hugo Distler: Some Influences on His Musical Style,” The American Organist, November 2002, 50–51. “Hugo Distler: 60 Years Later,” The Diapason, November 2002, 22.

Discography
The most satisfactory way to “know” Hugo Distler is through his music. The following compact disc recordings are recommended:

Organ works
Complete Organ Works (two discs, also included are works by Bach, Buxtehude, and Scheidt). John Brock plays two Brombaugh organs. Calcante Recordings, Ltd CD022 (1998).
Of historic interest (primarily for the instruments—Distler’s house organ and the Jakobi instruments, all of which have been changed since Distler played them): Complete Organ Works played by Armin Schoof. Thorofon CTH2293 and CTH2294.
Also of “historic” interest: Larry Palmer plays the large partitas and several smaller chorale works: Musical Heritage Society LP 3943 (out of print). Robert Sipe organ of Zumbro Lutheran Congregation, Rochester, MN (1978).

Choral works
Liturgische Sätze (selections from opus 13, opus 5, opus 11, and opus 6/2). Thorofon CTH 2420.
Choralpassion, opus 7. Kammerchor der Universität Dortmund, conducted by Willi Gundlach. Thorofon CTH2185.
Totentanz, opus 12/2 (same choir and conductor), plus Motet and Organ Partita on Wachet auf. Thorofon CTH 2215.
Die Weihnachtsgeschichte, opus 10. Thomanerchor Leipzig, Hans-Joachim Rotzsch. Berlin Classics 0092462BC.
Totentanz und Mottetten, opus 12 (including the opening and closing choruses for the never-completed St. John Passion). Berliner Vokalensemble, conducted by Bernd Stegmann. Cantate C 58007.

Instrumental works
Harpsichord Concerto, opus 14, and Incidental Music to the Play Ritter Blaubart. Musicaphon M 56860 (issued 2008).
Harpsichord Concertos, Martin Haselböck, harpsichord and conductor, with the Wiener Akademie. Both early and late concerti, plus the deleted movement from opus 14. Thorofon CTH 2403.

Special appreciation to my former organ student Simon Menges (Berlin) for sending the Musicaphon compact disc before it became available in the United States.