Zimbelstern

I’m afraid I cannot debate with you in detail on this question because my knowledge and understanding are not great enough. My point was really in relation to Gregorian chant. Inasmuch as I have a basic understanding of the relationship between the rhythm and accents of Latin words and the melodies composed to accompany them, I stand in awe of the experts in the field, none perhaps more so than Dom Joseph Gajard of Solesmes. In his book “The Rhythm of Plainsong” he sets out the nature of the relationship between the pronunciation of Latin and the chant. This is (for me a least!) a highly complex subject, and I would not wish to try to summarise in a few sentences what he achieved so convincingly in such a short book.

Again I have to say I am no expert in these matters, but the way I see it is this: plainsong has no regular metre, and so can accommodate different accent patterns (providing, of course, the singers know how to pronounce Latin correctly!).

Apart from the inappropriate nature and foursquare rhythm of the melody for such a hymn, how does that work with the second line of the first verse (Unum Patri cum Filio), given that the the first syllable of unum is accented, not the second?

Forgive me, I’m not an expert in these matters, but the monks are singing in Latin, albeit in a very fast, staccato style. A couple of years ago I attended a course on Gregorian chant in the Benedictine monastery in the Valle de los Caídos near Madrid in Spain. We sang Vespers every day with the monks. It did not sound anything like this, but then the speech rhythm of modern Spanish and Italian is not so distant from that of Latin. The speech rhythm of English is very different from that of Latin. One reason why Gregorian chant should be sung in Latin is because of the stress and accentual patterns of the language. The accent in English often falls on the last syllable of a line (hard ending), whilst in Latin the accent is normally on the penultimate syllable (soft ending). If you think of the words of, say, “There is a Green Hill Far Away” you will see what I mean. Gregorian chant can sound unnatural and stilted sung to English (essentially a Germanic language). which is no doubt the reason why we have Anglican chant. Reformation composers saw this immediately and could work in both idioms - thus Tallis’ responses. Tallis’ Canon would not work with a Latin text without modification (compare with Byrd’s canon “Non Nobis Domine”. (A modern example of a chant written specifically for English would be Martin Shaw’s Anglican Folk Mass). It can be done - a good example is J. H. Arnold’s Compline using “traditional language”. One of the interesting things about the Bairstow is that he softens some hard endings by using accented passing notes in some of the voices!

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Bairstow gives directions for chanting at the beginning of “The Lamentation” as follows: ”The Lamentation should be chanted quite slowly, but in speech rhythm. The syllables apportioned to the bars following rhe reciting bars must not be sung slower than the recitation (Bairstow’s italics).” There are certainly passing notes in the chants. We’re including this wonderful setting in a Lent concert. It will be interesting to see how it works out in practice.

I’m afraid I’m no expert on the physics of acoustics and pitch. What I find fascinating about such discussions, however, is how information about such aspects of musical performance can help to inform us about so many aspects of musical life and practice of earlier centuries. I’d like to give a rather complex example. J.S. Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in B minor BWV 544 exists in a fair copy in his hand. There are no earlier drafts extant to our knowledge. Peter Williams dates the manuscript to 1727-31. Both Williams and Christoph Wolff speculate that Bach played this piece for the memorial service for Queen Christiane Eberhardine at the University Church of St. Paul in Leipzig in October 1727 at which Bach’s Trauerode BWV 198 was performed, also in B minor. There is a contemporary record that a prelude and fugue was played. An important purpose of such a prelude was to enable the orchestral players to tune their instruments to the organ. So far so good. Except for one thing. We know that the organs in Bach’s churches were tuned to Chorton, a tone above the instruments which were tuned to Kammerton. The reason for tuning organs higher was apparently to save money because the pipes were shorter, although Wolff says it was because of the greater brilliance of the higher pitch. But this meant that if the organ was used for continuo, the organ had to be played a tone lower, the evidence for which is found in the organ continuo lines in many of Bach’s cantatas and other choral works. Thus, if a movement was in the key of F minor, the organ continuo had to be played in Eb minor! Christoph Wolff claims that the organ of the University Church in Leipzig, unlike those in Bach’s churches, was tuned to Kammerton, but does not give any evidence for this - I have certainly not been able to find any. So the situation is this: if Bach did indeed play BWV 544 at this service and if the organ was tuned to Chorton, he would probably have played it in A minor! No doubt this wasn’t too much of a problem for Bach (although one of the key pedal notes would have had to be transposed up an octave) but does this mean he might have originally written it in A minor and later made a fair copy in B minor? The question also arises as to when he wrote it, because he was so busy with the composition and performance preparations of the Trauerode in the days leading up to the service. Might he have improvised a prelude and fugue in A minor and later have made a written copy in B minor? Given the importance of the service and the dignitaries attending this service, it seems unlikely. We are told that Bach favoured the key of B minor for big choral works because of its association with melancholy and mourning. Yet I wonder whether there was a more mundane reason. First, it is obviously easier to transpose into and play a continuo line in A minor than a key with five or six flats or sharps. But as well as the pitch problem there was also that of temperament. Just how did a work sound when an organ tuned in unequal temperament was played at a different pitch from the orchestral instruments, and in which keys did this sound better or worse?

Thank you Vox Humana. It’s a pleasure discussing these matters with you and others in this forum.

My objection to the HIP movement is that it is in fact an ideology, rather than a truly scholarly or critical approach to performance. Its thinking runs along these lines: A piece of music by a composer of the past is intended to be performed without deviation from the notes exactly as they were written down and according to a very strict set of rules which are however subject to constant change as this or that “discovery” is made by a select group of “experts” whose word is final. There is essentially no difference ideologically in approach to the music of any particular period - so, for example, the type of instruments used, the size and quality of the band or choir, the tuning system, the tempi, etc. are seen in essentially the same ways - they are either “correct” or “incorrect”. The problem with this approach is that it does not take account of the real cultural practices, concerns and ideologies of each musical epoch. The almost exclusive focus on the written and printed text does not take account of the role that those texts played in the musical world of the period concerned or in the mind, beliefs and intentions of the composers. The notion of “correctness” is, it seems to me, a rather modern concern. I personally do not believe that Bach would have been shocked and outraged by a well rehearsed choir of, say thirty singers performing one of his sacred cantatas in an electrically lit, heated concert hall accompanied by an orchestra of forty or fifty with a continuo part played by an electrically blown organ tuned to the same pitch as the instruments by an organist who had a full printed score rather than from a single line of music hurriedly written out by hand (although Bach might have thought it all a bit odd!). We live in an age in which the slightest infringement of copyright, real or imagined, can result in extremely costly court action, and the potential ruination of the infringer. Copying, parodying or re-arranging other composers’ work was common in the 18th century, (Handel the Plagiarist!) and although outright deceit in passing others’ work off as your own was considered to be not the done thing, there was little that could be done about it. The trick was to keep writing - there was little interest in yesterday’s music. That’s why so much of it has been lost or remains undiscovered. I agree with Richard Taruskin that we cannot experience 18th century music as it was performed then because our circumstances are so different. For one thing we cannot hear a Bach cantata as it was heard in Bach’s time because we don’t go to church for four hours on a Sunday morning in the company of several thousand other devout protestants, none of whom has ever heard a piece of recorded music at home or anywhere else. Our world could be a million miles away. Ironically, the very technology which has given rise to and bolstered the HIP movement, is now threatening the text worshipping community. A leading music journal specialising in “Early Music” (does that come before Music While You Work?) recently opined that the days of monumental editions like Musica Britannica look to be numbered, both because of cost and because of sites such as CPDL. Interestingly, the same journal refers to our understanding of early music as “evolving away from notions of textual fixity”. Perhaps we’re moving into a new era of musical common sense.

Clearly West was very knowledgeable about music of the past. He wrote a very detailed and useful work called “Cathedral Organists” which gives detailed information from the Reformation onwards. Even a cursory reading of this book gives an insight into the level and extent of his scholarship. By the way, 18th century composers and organists had little in common with today’s HIP fanatics, obsessed as they are by the idea of “Werktreue” and the sacred original text which must never be altered. A reading of contemporary writers such as Charles Burney gives a very different picture of 18th century practice than that peddled by many of today’s academics. John Marsh even goes as far as to say that the printed works are far inferior to the improvisations of most skilful organists.

“During the earlier years of Greene's tenure of the organistship of S. Paul's an unwieldy figure in a great white wig (well known to musical London) might frequently have been seen at the Cathedral, crossing the empty space under the dome, presently disappearing beneath the organ-screen and entering the choir. This was no less a person than George Frederick Handel, who was extremely fond of rambling down from Burlington House to attend the afternoon service, and of playing upon the organ afterwards. For "Father" Smith's noble instrument Handel had a great liking, gaining access thereto through his friendship with Greene. The main attraction in the S. Paul's organ for Handel was the circumstance of its possession of a set of pedals, at that time quite a rarity in English organs. Burney, in his account of the Handel Commemoration of 1784, says : " On Handel's first arrival in England, from Greene's great admiration of this master's style of playing, he had literally condescended to become his bellows-blower, when he went to S. Paul's to play on that organ, for the exercise it afforded him in the use of the pedals. Handel, after 3 o'clock prayers, used frequently to get himself and young Greene locked up in the church together; and in summer, often stript unto his shirt, and played until 8 or 9 o'clock at night." Think of being alone with Handel at the organ in the solitude of a cathedral! No wonder the composer of the grand Organ Concertos should have delighted to play upon an instrument whose compass not only extended down to the 16-feet C, but whose tone was then by far the most superb in the British Isles.” Bumpus - History of English Cathedral Music

Thank you Vox Humana. For some technical reason I don’t understand, when I paste the link to the Partimento document it immediately downloads the title page. If you type the name of the document (PARTIMENTO AND CONTINUO PLAYING IN THEORY AND IN PRACTICE) into Google you will find it. In his Essay on the True Art of Playing Keyboard Instruments (Accompaniment - Performance) CPE Bach says the following: “We shall open the subject of performance by discussing volume. Of all the instruments that are used in the playing of thorough bass the single-manual harpsichord is the most perplexing with regard to forte and piano. To make amends for the imperfection of the instrument in this respect the number of parts must be increased or reduced......The pedal on the last named instrument (the organ) does commendable service when the bass is not too rapid; and it can be made more penetrating by means of a sixteen-foot registration. However, rather than mutilate the melody of the bass, the pedal should be omitted when not all of its notes can be played by the feet, and the lowest part played solely by the left hand...Fortissimo may be attained by duplicating in the left hand all tones of consonant chords, and the consonant tones of dissonant chords when the nature of the bass makes it possible to do so. The low register must be avoided, the doubled tones being placed close to the right hand in a manner that the notes of both hands adjoin, leaving no intervening space. Otherwise, the rumbling low notes will create a miserable blur. A simple octave doubling of the bass by the right hand also has a penetrating effect....In order to practise these precepts the ear must provide constant assistance, for indications are not always exact; moreover, matters of tonal volume depend on the desires of the performer of the principle part.” Jakob Adlung is also a mine of information on these matters and 18th century organ registration in particular. Unfortunately, it appears that his “Anleitung zu einer Musikalischen Gelahrtheit” (Erfurt 1758) has never been translated into English (I may do it myself one day). The original in German can be downloaded from the internet. Although it is printed in Gothic type, the German is a pleasure to read - nothing like the obfuscations we get from today’s academics! Should be read in conjunction with Charles Burney! 18th century German is a truly a thing of beauty! Here’s a flavour of Adlung: ”Fourthly, the choice of organ stops often depends on the wind supply, so that there is not a lack of clarity because of too many voices when there is insufficient wind. (Footnote: When I draw the Sesquialtra on my Great and, in addition to the 16’ Quintaton, two or three more 8’ stops, the first mentioned one loses strength, or fails to speak at all. In good quality organs, especially newer instruments, however, such a deficiency of the wind supply does not occur). However, there should be no support for the old rule that one should not draw stops of the same pitch, especially ranks of different scale. Niedt, and before him Werkmeister, hold to such a prohibition and say they have found reasons to bolster their case. I have known organists who, when using the 16’ Posaune, omitted to draw the 16’ Sub Bass, not because of insufficient air, but because of this rule.”

Here are some very interesting quotes from the website of the University of Nottingham’s Music Department: “From 1680 to 1830, the period from Scarlatti to Bellini, professional music-making in Europe was dominated by Italians. Their traditions of composition, performance, and pedagogy were everywhere in vogue. By the middle of the nineteenth century, these traditions had been overshadowed by a new 'classical' music culture, to the extent that they were eventually forgotten in English and German-speaking regions. They survived elsewhere in Europe, however, well into the twentieth century (most notably at the Paris Conservatoire). The theory textbook still in regular use at the Athens Conservatoire in the 1990s consisted of eighteenth-century Neapolitan partimenti. Until recently, almost nothing was known about the historical traditions of compositional practice which underpinned the work of, among others, Haydn and Mozart. Professor Thomas Christensen, one of the world's leading scholars of eighteenth-century music theory, tells a story of long sessions at the Prussian State Library in Berlin, where, in the hunt for rare treatises, he had to leaf through hundreds of manuscripts containing what appeared to be useless exercises in thoroughbass and counterpoint. These exercises - called partimenti, solfeggi, or disposizioni - turned out to be the core documents in a mostly non-verbal tradition of apprenticeship. The past decade has witnessed rapid advances in our knowledge of these Italian traditions and their significance. Yet vast collections of archive material remain unexplored and many questions unanswered. This is why the project seeks to uncover the sophisticated techniques of learning to sing and compose in Italian conservatories, with the help of solfeggi. The integral use of sol-fa syllables, derived from Guidonian hexachords, may provide a key to unlock many secrets of eighteenth-century tonality. Nick Baragwanath is currently finishing his monograph on the history and theory of solfeggi, The Solfeggio Tradition: A Forgotten Art of Melody in the Long Eighteenth Century.”

It’s important to remember that alongside the art of figured bass there was another - that of unfigured bass, or Partimento, as practised by Italian masters and teachers who worked all over Europe in the 18th century This link gives an excellent insight: By mastering the art of Partimento (requiring many years of study and practice) it was apparently possible to compose extremely rapidly (and presumably improvise complex pieces) - thus explaining the extraordinary output of composers such as Hasse, or Handel himself. The old story about Handel writing Messiah in three weeks may be true, but it was in line with his general practice. Even if we confine ourselves to Bach we see that when he wrote out the obbligato parts to, say, his chamber sonatas, the music is far more varied and complex than might be expected from a “normal” figured bass realisation. There is so much that we still have to discover about 18th century musical performance. Thanks to the efforts of scholars and practitioners such as Giorgio Sanguinetti we are beginning to see that there was far more to the performance of 18th century music than four square figured bass realisation.

Surely anyone is free to fill in, alter, embellish or otherwise re-arrange any work from the past which is no longer copyright. After all, that’s what 18th century composers did, with both their own and others’ work. We’ve become so afraid of the HIP thought police that we feel guilty about the slightest change to the sacred “original” score (good luck with Buxtehude!). Thus the fraud perpetrated by so-called Urtext editions (very often no-one has a clue what the “Urtext” was). Surely there should be only one golden rule: tell us what you’ve done (e.g. Handel arr. Mozart or Bach arr. Mendelssohn).

“the nearest one could get to the sort of sound Bach was used to might be a Victorian Town Hall organ. Quite a difference from opinions of some years ago!” Of course the so-called Organ Reform Movement (which we now know had its origins in nationalist German political ideology of the 1920s) mistakenly identified the “Bach” sound with the North German organ. But Bach lived and worked in Central Germany. With the opening up of East Germany after 1989 we are now able to listen to and even play the kind of organs that Bach would have played, and, in a few cases, organs that he actually did play. They are very different from even real North German organs, and certainly nothing like the shrill, screaming machines foisted on us after 1945. The organs of Trost in Altenburg and Waltershausen, and that of Hildebrandt in Naumburg, demonstrate this admirably. They are like an artist’s palette - many different stops can be combined together (yes, you can play on more than one 8’ rank at the same time, as Adlung allows) to make beautiful sounds of different colours and hues.

On p.101 of Barbara Owen’s book ‘The Registration of Baroque Organ Music’ it is stated: “Towards the middle of the (18th) century a Horn (or French Horn) stop began to appear on some larger organs, and “horn call” effects began to appear in voluntaries as well as transcriptions. Referring to John Stanley she writes: “An insight into the registration of “horn call” movements is found in Voluntary VI of Volume III, where the second section calls for ‘Corno or Diapasons,’ implying that if no Horn stop is present, the Diapasons could be substituted.”

I’ve recently been reflecting on the ideal length and style of an after service voluntary. Longish, major pieces are fine for high days and holiday, but a reasonably concise offering seems more likely to hold the attention of those who are interested in listening on most Sundays. It’s interesting that the timings given in that wonderful resource, Stainer’s “The Village Organist”, are usually between 2 and 4 minutes. What do others think?

What exactly is a Corno stop? I’ve tried looking it up but I’m none the wiser.

I’ve recently discovered the organ music of Johann Gottfried Müthel (1728 – 1788). Quite a revelation! Praised by Charles Burney, he was J.S. Bach’s last pupil and was present at the master’s death. He spent most of his subsequent career in faraway Riga and seems to have been largely forgotten, yet his (admittedly rather small) output of Sturm und Drang organ works, with their virtuoso pedal parts, are full of drama and feeling. There’s an excellent CD of his organ music by Matteo Venturini (Brilliant Classics).

I find the 11th Station - Jésus est attaché sur la Croix - to be the most extraordinary of the pieces - Dupré manages to convey the driving in of the nails with an almost unbearable physical intensity. I have Yves Castagnet’s wonderful recording on the organ of Notre Dame de Paris. It would be marvellous if a British organist could establish a tradition of performing this work during Passiontide, rather as Messiaen’s La Nativité du Seigneur has become established at Christmas. Westminster Cathedral perhaps?

Some time ago I bought a recording of this work. Listening to it recently I wondered whether it has been performed very often in the UK. I believe there is a set of readings meant to accompany it during Passiontide. Has anyone ever played it or heard it live? It features some of the most extraordinarily descriptive organ music I have ever heard.

Two years ago I attended an organ recital at a church in the village of Nava del Rey not far from Valladolid in Spain. The occasion was the inauguration of the newly restored and extremely beautiful baroque organ. The recital was given by Juan de la Rubia, one of Spain's leading organists and organist of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. The church was full to bursting (I estimate around 1000 people) with Spanish families. There were several babies in prams. They seemed to enjoy the recital greatly and the atmosphere was joyous.

It was indeed St Nicholas in the market square, but the organ is now a three manual electronic instrument dated 1998. Like you I love King James and BCP. In the last few years I have been organist in both evangelical and anglo-catholic churches (my current church uses the Roman rite although it is CoE!). I find that if you make a real effort to get on with the incumbent and are positive, friendly, professional and amenable and contribute to the life of the church, you will normally be able to influence the music in ways to your liking, even if you don't always get your own way!

Some years ago I for a while attended St Michael's Cornhill where only the Book of Common Prayer and the King James Bible were (and I believe still are) used. The incumbent at that time, who made quite a name for himself for his political views - frequently preaching them from the pulpit - was also in charge of St Sepulchre's. I decided to give Tuesday Evensong there a go, but was most disappointed to find that the congregation was tiny (unlike at St Michael's on Sundays where the church was nearly full). It is very unsettling to find one's chosen flavour of worship in a particular church overturned. However, no church can survive or maintain its character for ever in the absence of a congregation. I think it is unfair to dismiss "evangelicals" out of hand when often the only alternative is to close down the church. Many churches which have been taken over by evangelicals have restored their fortunes and filled them with worshippers, including the young. I know of one church - All Saints, Woodford Wells in East London - which has done an amazing job of attracting congregations of many hundreds on Sundays to its various services, which include both band-led worship and traditional style worship with choir and organ. They are currently in the process of raising tens of thousands to restore the organ. A CLESO organ recital held there last year attracted an audience of hundreds and raised £2,500 for the organ fund in one afternoon. The magnificent St Peter's, Brighton where I learnt the organ as a youngster, has in the last few years been taken over by Holy Trinity, Brompton. I believe it was dying on its feet before they restored its fortunes. The other day I popped into a church in the centre of Durham. The church had clearly had an evangelical makeover. There were volunteers sitting waiting to talk to visitors. "Do you have an organ?" I asked, rather perplexed by the layout. "Yes, it's over there. Would you like to try it?" I was was delighted to do so. It was in perfect working order and clearly regularly used. I am full of admiration for those who get off their feet and breathe new life into the Church of England. The church is there first and foremost to worship God. As an organist I see it as my duty to work with all and sundry in the church towards that end - I see it as a fascinating challenge rather than feeling that the place is collapsing around my ears.