Thomas Adams (1785-1858): Alla marcia in C (Ditfurt)
(English version below) Thomas Adams (1785 London â 1858 London) war in seinem spĂ€teren Leben wohl der prominenteste Londoner Organist, berĂŒhmt nicht zuletzt wegen seines Improvisationstalentes, aber auch als Komponist. Er war Organist verschiedener Londoner Kirchen: 1802-14 Carlisle Chapel, Lambeth; 1814-24 St Paulâs, Deptford, seit 1824 St Georgeâs, Camberwell. Letzteren Posten hatte er fĂŒr den Rest seines Lebens inne, dazu seit 1833 die Organistenstelle an St Dunstan-in-the-West in der Fleet Street. Seit dessen Einweihung 1817 war Adams ĂŒberdies sozusagen Hausorganist des von der Orgelbaufirma Flight & Robson erbauten berĂŒhmten Apollonicon, aufgestellt in einem Saal des Firmensitzes in der St Martinâs Lane: einer Orgel mit rund 1900 Pfeifen (verteilt auf 45 Register) und zwei Pauken, die sowohl automatisch (vermittels mit Stiften versehener Walzen) als auch ĂŒber Klaviaturen spielbar war. Sie besaĂ ein Hauptmanual mit einem Umfang von fĂŒnf Oktaven (GG-g3, 61 Tasten) sowie fĂŒnf weitere Klaviaturen im Umfang von drei Oktaven (g-g3, 37 Tasten), an denen weitere Spieler tĂ€tig werden konnten; sie saĂen zu beiden Seiten des Hauptspieltischs. Dieser besaĂ auch eine Pedalklaviatur im Umfang von zwei Oktaven (GG-g, 25 Tasten), doch lieĂen sich die drei Pedalregister anscheinend auch von einer der Manualklaviaturen anspielen. Ob Adams das hier aufgenommene StĂŒck auf dem Apollonicon gespielt hat, weiĂ ich nicht â es klingt aber, als ob das sehr wohl möglich wĂ€re; Kirchenmusik ist das jedenfalls nicht. (Zwar verlangt das StĂŒck im Mittelteil nach einer anderen Registrierung als am Anfang und Ende, und es scheint, daĂ keiner der Spieler mehr als ein Manual zur VerfĂŒgung hatte. Jedoch wies das Instrument fĂŒnf feste Kombinationen auf, die durch FuĂhebel zu betĂ€tigen waren.) Das Inserat im Vorspann des Videos stammt aus der Aprilnummer 1829 der Monatszeitschrift The Harmonicon.
In his later life Thomas Adams (1785 London â 1858 London) was probably the most prominent London organist, famous not least for his skill at improvisation, but also as a composer. He was organist of several London churches: 1802-14 Carlisle Chapel, Lambeth; 1814-24 St Paulâs, Deptford, since 1824 St Georgeâs, Camberwell. He held that latter post for the rest of his life, and additionally from 1833 the post of organist of St Dunstan-in-the-West in Fleet Street. Since its opening in 1817 Adams moreover was the resident organist (so to speak) of the famous Apollonicon, built by the firm of Flight & Robson and displayed in the âGreat Roomâ of their workshop in St Martinâs Lane. This consisted of some 1900 pipes (divided among 45 stops) and two kettle drums, playable either automatically (by means of pinned barrels) or by means of keyboards. The main one had five octaves (61 keys, GG-g3); five other manuals with a compass of three octaves (37 keys, g-g3) could be operated by additional players, seated on both sides of the central console. The latter also had a pedal board with a compass of two octaves (GG-g, 25 keys); though apparently the pipes of the three pedal stops could also be played from one of the manuals. I do not know whether Adams played the piece recorded here on the Apollonicon â but it sounds as if that were well possible; certainly this is no church music. (To be sure, the middle section of the piece requires a different registration from the beginning and end, and it seems that each performer only had access to one of the manuals, not two. The instrument did, however, feature five fixed combinations activated by foot levers.) The advertisement used for the opening credits of the video comes from the April 1829 issue of the monthly The Harmonicon.
Johann Rudolf Ahle (1625-73): Vater unser im Himmelreich
Orgel der Dorfkirche Altenbruch (English below) | In MĂŒhlhausen als Sohn eines Kaufmanns geboren, besuchte J.R. Ahle die Schule in seiner Heimatstadt und in Göttingen und studierte in Erfurt. Dort wurde er 1646 Kantor an St. Andreas. 1649 kehrte er nach MĂŒhlhausen zurĂŒck und erhielt dort 1653 die Organistenstelle an der Hauptkirche Divi Blasii. Zu Lebzeiten war Ahle als Komponist deutschlandweit bekannt und trat auch als Dichter hervor. 1673 wurde er zum BĂŒrgermeister der Freien Reichsstadt gewĂ€hlt, verstarb aber noch im selben Jahr. Auch sein Sohn Joh. Georg trat als Komponist und Dichter hervor. Er folgte dem Vater als Organist an Divi Blasii nach.
Die Kirche des hl. Blasius, 1276 vom Deutschen Orden in Auftrag gegeben, ist eines der spektakulĂ€reren Erzeugnisse der Gotik im weiten Umkreis. Die WesttĂŒrme wurden von einem VorgĂ€ngerbau ĂŒbernommen. 1556 ĂŒberlieĂ der Orden die Kirche der lutherischen Gemeinde; die in der Folge eingefĂŒhrte Bezeichnung als Divi Blasii ist eine gelehrte Spitzfindigkeit (Divi statt Sancti zur Bezeichnung von Kirchen findet sich in deutschsprachigen Texten des 17. und 18.Jhs. hĂ€ufiger, hat sich aber, soweit ich sehe, örtlich sonst nirgends durchgesetzt).
Die Orgel, die Ahle in Divi Blasii spielte, wurde 1560-63 von dem Göttinger Orgelbauer Jost Pape mit Hauptwerk, RĂŒckpositiv und Pedal erbaut. 1603 machte ein Blitzeinschlag Reparaturen erforderlich. 1676 war die Orgel offenbar in schlechtem Zustand und eine damals erfolgte Instandsetzung durch Jost SchĂ€fer aus Langensalza brachte wohl nicht das erhoffte Ergebnis. 1687-91 fĂŒhrte Joh. Friedrich Wender, in MĂŒhlhausen selbst ansĂ€ssig, einen ersten erweiternden Umbau durch, 1708 nach Vorgaben von Joh. Sebastian Bach einen weiteren. Bach folgte 1707 Joh. Georg Ahle als Organist nach, blieb aber nur fĂŒr einJahr. Gern sĂ€he man, aus heutiger Perpektive, das Instrument im Zustand von 1708 erhalten. 1821-23 ersetzte es Joh. Friedrich Schulze leider durch ein neues im alten GehĂ€use (entfernte indes das RĂŒckpositiv â das ist der Zustand in dem im Video gezeigten Foto). Die Schulze-Orgel wurde â wiederum leider! â 1959 ihrerseits vernichtet, zugunsten eines sicher ehrenwerten Werks der Firma Schuke, das sich an der von Bach geĂ€nderten Disposition von 1708 orientiert. Der heutige Prospekt ist modern. Ich habe nicht feststellen können, was aus dem alten wurde â der Zweite Weltkrieg scheint hier nicht im Spiel gewesen zu sein, die Kirche blieb unzerstört.
In der eingespielten Choralbearbeitung ist die Melodie in die BaĂstimme gelegt. Ich dachte erst, man könne sie im Pedal spielen. Wenn man wie notiert spielt, braucht man aber als höchsten Ton das es â so hoch reichte kein Pedal der Zeit hinauf. Spielt man eine Oktave tiefer, braucht man das Es der GroĂen Oktave, das man, um das Material der dafĂŒr nötigen groĂen Pfeifen zu sparen, damals ebenfalls nicht baute. Die verwendete Orgel hat den Pedalumfang C,D-d; die MĂŒhlhĂ€user Orgel nach dem Umbau durch Wender ebenso, und davor vermutlich weniger. Das StĂŒck ist also manualiter zu spielen, wobei es nicht möglich ist, dem Cantus firmus ein eigenes Manual zuzuweisen. In der Registrierung kam es demnach darauf an, die BaĂstimme möglichst hervortreten zu lassen, was, denke ich, hier ganz gut funktioniert.
Born at MĂŒhlhausen in Thuringia as the son of a merchant, J.R. Ahle went to school in his home town and at Göttingen before enrolling at Erfurt university. At Erfurt, in 1646, he became director of music of St Andrewâs Church. Having returned to MĂŒhlhausen in 1649, he obtained the organistship of the townâs principal church, Divi Blasii, in 1653. In his lifetime Ahle was known throughout Germany both as a composer and as a poet. In 1673 he was elected mayor of MĂŒhlhausen, an imperial free city. But he died in that same year. His son Johann Georg was also a composer and poet. He succeeded his father as organist at Divi Blasii.
The church of St Blaise, commissioned in 1276 by the Teutonic Order, is one of the more spectacular productions of Gothic architecture in the area. The twin towers at the west end were part of an earlier church. In 1556 the order transferred the church to the Lutheran congregation. Subsequently it became known as Divi Blasii (rather than Sancti or Sankt Blasii â a learned sublety; divi instead of sancti to refer to a church is a frequent enough usage in German texts of the 17th and 18th centuries, but nowhere else, to my knowledge, has it entered local nomenclature).
The organ played by Ahle at Divi Blasii was built in 1560-63 by Jost Pape of Göttingen. It had a great organ, a rĂŒckpositiv (chaire organ) and pedals. In 1603 a lightning strike necessitated repairs. In 1676 the organ was again dilapidated, but work carried out by Jost SchĂ€fer of Langensalza apparently failed to remedy the situation fully. From 1687 to 1691 the instrument was partially rebuilt and enlarged by a local builder, Johann Friedrich Wender. Wender did another partial rebuild in 1708 at the behest of the then organist, J.S. Bach, who succeeded J.G. Ahle in 1707 but only stayed for twelve months. One would dearly like the instrument to have been preserved as Bach left it. Sadly, Johann Friedrich Schulze of Paulinzella replaced the organ in 1821-23, retaining the old case but removing the rĂŒckpositiv (this is the situation in the photograph shown in the video). In its turn â and also sadly! â the Schulze organ was destroyed to make way for the present instrument, built by Schuke in 1959 and reinstating the specification of 1708. This instrument has a modern case. I have not been able to find out what happened to the old case (WWII cannot be to blame in this instance, as the church was spared).
In the chorale prelude heard here the hymn tune is assigned to the bass. At first I thought I could play it on the pedals. But if you play it as written, you need a high e flat that no pedal board of the period would have provided. If you play an octave lower you need e flat in the bass octave, which also would likely have been missing, from a desire to save the expense for the large pipes required. The Altenbruch organ used for the recording has a pedal compass of C,D-d. The Wender organ did too; the original instrument almost certainly had less. So the piece is evidently meant to be played without pedals. At the same time the texture of the piece is such that the cantus firmus cannot be played on a separate manual. It is therefore necessary to find a registration in which the bass voice is clearly audible. I think that works quite well here.
Johann Rudolf Ahle (1625-73): Ich ruf zu dir Herr Jesu Christ
Orgel der Dorfkirche Altenbruch (English below) Die eingespielte Choralbearbeitung beginnt wie eine Fuge ĂŒber die erste Choralzeile, verarbeitet aber in der Folge auch andere Teile der Melodie. Da diese Melodie heute wenig bekannt ist, schicke ich sie in dem Video der Bearbeitung voraus. Das Lied als solches scheint nach einer âstillenâ Registrierung zu verlangen, fĂŒr Ahles Bearbeitung aber erwies sich eine kraftvollere Registrierung als besser geeignet, um den Kontrapunkt angemessen zur Wirkung kommen zu lassen. Das Pedal kommt nur fĂŒr den Orgelpunkt am SchluĂ zum Einsatz, der anders nicht zu spielen ist.
The chorale prelude recorded here starts like a fugue on the first line of the hymn tune, but proceeds to use other parts of the tune as well. Since that tune is no longer very well known in this video it is presented first, followed by Ahleâs prelude. The hymn as such would seem to call for a âquietâ registration. However, a more forceful registration turned out to be better suited to do justice to Ahleâs counterpoint. The pedal point in the final bars is the only part of the piece that cannot be played with the hands alone.
John Alcock (1715-1806): Organ Voluntary No. 2 in G Minor (âCremona & Hoboy Echoâ)(Transeptorgel Laurenskerk Rotterdam)
This video is the first of two illustrating the biography of the composer, John Alcock, and takes us to the point where he was appointed organist of Lichfield Cathedral in 1750. (The second part is here.)
The movements of this voluntary are labelled âAdagioâ and âAffettuosoâ, exactly as in a similar voluntary by Alcockâs contemporary William Goodwin. In my recording of the voluntary by Goodwin, in the Affettuoso movement I used â by accident, really â exactly the registration that Alcock requires here: the oboe (âhoboyâ, from the French âhautboisâ) as the main solo stop, and the cremona as a secondary solo stop, with the bass played on soft flues. The odd thing here is that Goodwin does not even prescribe this: his score just says âVoxâ (i.e. Vox humana) for the solo stop, and only indicates a manual (âSwellâ) for the rest, not a specific stop. (However, as a general rule, if 18th-c. English voluntaries call for a reed solo stop it was customary to let it alternate with another â softer â reed on another manual.)
When, later, I started studying the Alcock voluntary heard here, I tried it on the same organ chosen for the Goodwin piece (the late Georgian instrument now at Little Waldingfield, Sussex), using the same registration, since it happens to be the one mandated by Alcock. But it did not really work. In the Goodwin voluntary, the bass line stays below middle C, and as on that (two-manual) organ the Cremona is treble only, I could play both that part and the bass on the same manual. In the Alcock movement, the bass line uses middle C, and the D above it, several times, and playing the relevant bits an octave lower proved awkward. For this piece following the registration given in the score really requires three manuals â which any substantial 18th-c. English organ had; but I, unfortunately, do not.
On the other hand, in the Alcock voluntary the passages assigned to the Cremona are quite short: they are the beginning and end of the movement and a few bars in between. The star role is really given to the oboe. This is handled beautifully by the Dulciaan on the rugwerk (chaire organ) of the 1959 Marcussen instrument heard here. And simply using the same flues for the Cremona passages that you also hear in the introductory Adagio turned out to give a very pleasing result too.
Another question was to do with tempo. âAffettuosoâ (âtenderly, with emotionâ) is not really a tempo indication. In the Goodwin voluntary I chose a slow tempo, with the quavers played Andante, as if they were crotchets. (This is the opposite, as it were, of alla breve, which treats crotchets as quavers â but is there a name for it?) At first I played the Alcock movement like that too, but eventually decided on the faster tempo heard in this recording. The slower tempo worked, but the faster tempo works better (conversely, I think for the Goodwin movement the slower tempo is fine).
John Alcock (1715-1806): Organ Voluntaries Nos. 1 and 6 (âTrumpet & Echoâ)(Boezemkerk Bolnes)
This video illustrating the life of the composer from the point where he was appointed organist of Lichfield Cathedral is a sequel to the one featuring Alcockâs Voluntary No. 2 in G Minor and focussing on his earlier career.
John Alcockâs annoyance with the singers of his cathedral choir and his alleged reaction are strikingly similar to that of another English cathedral organist a few generations later, Samuel Sebastian Wesley (see the video description of my recording of Wesleyâs Andante in C).
The polyphonic slow movement of Voluntary No. 6 has the feel of something that might easily be sung rather than played and therefore fits the image of Alcockâs 1752 collection of chants nicely. Since it is almost impossible to find here is a link to what seems to be the only item of Alcockâs output as a choral composer currently available on Youtube. It is an anthem or motet, âOut of the Deepâ, in a 1980 recording (sung by the choir of Lichfield Cathedral with all the discipline that it seems the composer never could get it to achieve in his day). [Sadly this video has been withdrawn.]
As in the first video I chose a Dutch neo-Baroque instrument for the recording of these two voluntaries by Alcock. Of course to be quite precise the organ used for the other video is actually Danish, though built for a church in the Netherlands; the 1959 van Leeuwen organ heard here is purely Dutch, and its neo-Baroque character is more pronounced than in the case of the 1959 Marcussen organ in the other video. In fact, listening to the Marcussen without knowing by whom or when it was built, I would probably believe it to be much older than it is; whereas the van Leeuwen really does sound quite typical of its period. Why did I choose it anyway? For one thing I very much like the trumpet stop, which of course is important in trumpet voluntaries like the two heard here. Both its timbre and its slightly distant quality I find very appealing. The latter is due of course to its position on the hoofdwerk (great organ), higher up and set back against the rugwerk (chaire organ), which from the perspective of the listener in the church is in the foreground not just optically but also acoustically.
Another reason is that Alcock voluntaries are always awash in ornamentation, and not every organ handles those equally well. With some instruments it is difficult to prevent the separate notes making up a trill from blending into each other and sounding mushy rather than crisp. After becoming frustrated in this respect by a number of other organs I tried the van Leeuwen and found it reliably satisfactory throughout the required compass, and not just for the trumpet but also the flues. (The Marcussen used in the other video has no trumpet stop.)
In 18th-c. England, the âechoâ in trumpet voluntaries would normally have been played on the Swell trumpet, or possibly another reed stop, with the main trumpet on the Great; the bass line would have been assigned to the choir organ. This of course requires three manuals, which my console does not have. But then not every 18th-c. English organ did, either. Even though the rugwerk flues used for the bass line in the fast movement of voluntary no. 1 do sound eminently neo-Baroque (somewhat uncompromising and bordering on harsh, that is, especially the 4-foot stop) I still rather like the result. However, for the fast movement of voluntary no. 6 I added another reed (the rugwerk Kromhoorn), imitating 18th-c. English practice except that the reed of course also sounds in the bass rather than just the echo treble sections. Again though I found the result pleasing.
John Alcockâs Ten Voluntaries for the Organ or Harpsichord, first published in 1774, are available in a recent edition from Greg Lewin ( http://www.greglewin.co.uk/ ).
This video with another of Alcockâs voluntaries has information about the 1789 Green organ of Lichfield Cathedral. [See the next item on this page.]
John Alcock (1715-1806): Organ Voluntary No. 8 in E Minor (Little Waldingfield)
Organ of Little Waldingfield parish church, Suffolk @ 1:07 Grave â @ 3:29 Moderato
John Alcock was born in the shadow of St Paulâs Cathedral, London, where he served as a chorister. When George II was crowned in Westminster Abbey in 1727, 12-year-old John Alcock marched in the procession, standing in for a chorister of the Chapel Royal who had died; the music was, of course, by Handel. Having held positions as organist in Reading and Plymouth, and applied in vain for the post at Salisbury Cathedral, in 1750 he became organist of Lichfield Cathedral. His experiences there are reflected in his semi-autobiographical novel, The Life of Miss Fanny Brown, published in 1760 under the pseudonym John Piper. Alcock clearly was a cantankerous if amusing character. The novel contains a 100-page chronicle of low-grade warfare between him and the cathedral choir, along with other anecdotes presumably culled from real life (âa brisk looking Sailor, dressâd in a short Jacket and Trowzers, a very handsome India Handkerchief around his Neck, a neat Pair of Pumps, and a monstrous large Pair of Silver Buckles, with both Arms across, came into the Choir while the Absolution was reading; when looking around him, as if he was taking Survey of the Place and the People, at last the Organ struck up, at which the Jovial Tar began to skip about for near a Minute, and then capering backwards out of the Choir-Gate, hallooâd out, Merry be your Hearts, Old Boysâ) .
Alcock paints himself as a conscientious musician continually stifled by the sloth and indifference surrounding him. Despite his rheumatism he punctiliously fulfilled his obligation âalways to play a voluntary after Morning and Evening Prayers, even in the severest cold when, very often, there was only one Vicar[-Choral?], who read [rather than sang?] the service, and an old woman at church beside the choristersâŠ.All the time I was organistâŠthere was not a book in the organ-loft fit for use, but what I bought or wrote myself (for which I was never paid one halfpenny)â (Six and Twenty Select AnthemsâŠfor 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, and 8 Voices, Preface). âAll the time I was organistâ: in 1761 Alcock had enough of playing the cathedral organ and became organist of the parish churches of Tamworth and Sutton Coldfield. I am not clear what his formal status was now. A senior 18th-c. English organist often employed deputies. Being in charge of two churches (8 miles distant from each other and from Lichfield) meant that Alcock had to resort to this practice in any case; it seems that for his parish duties he used his sons. At the cathedral someone else now played the organ, but I do not know whether this person was paid by the chapter or by Alcock. It seems that Alcock stayed in his house in the cathedral close and died there in 1806, aged 90. He resigned his parish positions in 1786 and 1790 respectively. In his old age he attended services at the cathedral every day when in residence (he spent part of the year with his daughters in London; but was clearly in London often even in the 1750s). I do not know if he still performed any role at the cathedral. [On these questions see now here.]
Alcock took a B.Mus. from Oxford in 1755 and a D.Mus. in 1766. The title page of his Ten Voluntaries of 1774 says âfor the Organ or Harpsichordâ, as it inevitably did with such collections in 18th-c. England, presumably to attract more buyers. But the very title of the individual voluntaries indicates the solo stop or stops to be used in the main movement, and the stops to be drawn are indicated throughout the score. No. 8, recorded here, is for âVoix humainâ (Vox humana). I was going to use a sample set of a (neo-Baroque) instrument which actually has this stop, but then tried the piece on the Little Waldingfield organ and found that it sounded even better on this Georgian organ, Vox or no Vox. All pipework heard likely dates from 1809. The Stop Diapason on the Swell is now called Gedact but the pipes are Georgian, at least in the old part of the division which originally only went down to Tenor F (but no lower notes are needed for the solo part in this recording). The stop was probably renamed when the Swell was made full compass in 1876.
Alcock also published choral music and won prizes for his glees. He was buried in Lichfield Cathedral but no monument is extant. There is one to one John Savile, who died in 1803 hours after singing his last service as a vicar-choral of the cathedral, a post that he had held for 48 years. His epitaph is a poem which ends thus (the last line a quote from Samuel Johnson, himself a native of Lichfield):
Now from that graceful form and beaming face
Insatiate worms the lingering likeness chase,
But thy pure Spirit fled from pains and fears
To sinless-changeless-everlasting Spheres.
Sleep then, pale mortal Frame, in yon low shrine
âTill Angels wake thee with a note like thine.â
Richard Alwood (~?1510-~?1560): In nomine (Krewerd)
(English below) Instrument: die spĂ€tgotische Orgel in Krewerd, Niederlande â Wir kennen von Alwood nur den Namen und die ĂŒberlieferten Werke; ob er mit einem katholischen Priester dieses Namens identisch ist, hat man behauptet wie bezweifelt. Die Choralmelodie eines englischen âIn nomineâ ist die Antiphon âGloria tibi trinitasâ (Dir sei Ehre, dreifaltiger Gott). Die Antiphon wurde von John Taverner in der heute nach ihr benannten, in den 1520er Jahren fĂŒr sechsstimmigen Chor geschriebenen Gloria tibi trinitas-Messe verwendet. Im Benedictus streckt Taverner die Worte âin nomine dominiâ ĂŒber fast 30 Takte, in denen die Altstimme die Antiphon vollstĂ€ndig zitiert. Die Polyphonie dieses Passus empfand man als so gelungen, daĂ er in Instrumentalversionen zu kursieren begann und bald auch andere Komponisten Werke schrieben, die auf dem dort verwendeten Cantus firmus, eben der Antiphon basieren. Die fraglichen Werke tragen manchmal den Namen der Antiphon, meist aber den Titel âIn nomineâ. Es gibt aus dem 16. und 17. Jahrhundert hunderte so bezeichneter Werke englischer Komponisten. Viele von ihnen, auch Alwood selbst, schrieben gleich eine Anzahl davon.
Ich habe mich oft gefragt, ob in StĂŒcken wie diesem der Cantus firmus â ob auf dieser Antiphon oder einem anderen gregorianischen Gesang basierend â hörbar sein soll statt nur sichtbar, wenn man nĂ€mlich die Noten vor sich hat. Was mich betrifft kann ich ihn schlicht NICHT hören. In diesem Video habe ich die Noten hinzugefĂŒgt und den C.f. markiert â und höre ihn immer noch nicht. Offen gestanden bezweifle ich, daĂ selbst ein noch so gut trainiertes Ohr in der Lage ist, ihn herauszuhören, geschweige denn zu identifizieren. Denn er schreitet ja um ein Vielfaches langsamer voran als wenn er tatsĂ€chlich von Mönchen gesungen wĂŒrde. Ăberdies zeigt das Video, daĂ der Satz auf den lateinischen Text keinerlei RĂŒcksicht nimmt â seine Phrasen decken sich nicht mit denen des Textes. Offenkundig bedeutet der Umstand, daĂ Kompositionen dieser Art auf einer ursprĂŒnglich liturgischen Melodie basieren, nicht, daĂ sie selbst in irgendeiner Weise geistlich sind. Einen gregorianischen Gesang als C.f. eines polyphonen Satzes zu verwenden war offenbar schlicht Usus, aus langer Tradition heraus, wurde jedoch nurmehr als intellektuelle Aufgabe und nicht als religiöse Ăbung aufgefaĂt.
NĂ€heres zur Orgel in der Beschreibung meines gleichzeitig hochgeladenen Videos mit Thomas Tallisâ âRemember not o Lordâ [Text auch weiter unten]. Die in dieser Aufnahme verwendeten Register Praestant 8âČ und Quint 3âČ sind original.
Instrument: the late Gothic organ at Krewerd (The Netherlands) â We know nothing of Alwood except his name and the compositions attributed to him. That he is identical with a catholic priest of the same name has been both suggested and doubted. The tune underlying an English âIn nomineâ is the antiphon âGloria tibi trinitasâ (Glory be to thee, o Trinity). This antiphon was used by John Taverner in a mass for six-part choir written in the 1520s and known today as the Missa Gloria tibi trinitas. In the Benedictus Taverner stretches the words âin nomine dominiâ over almost 30 bars, in the course of which the alto cites the antiphon in its entirety. The polyphony of this passage was considered so sublime that it began to circulate separately in instrumental versions; soon other composers also wrote works based on the same cantus firmus, i.e. the antiphon. The works in question sometimes bear the name of the antiphon, but more often are entitled âIn nomineâ. There are hundreds of such works by English composers of the 16th and 17th centuries. Many of them, including Alwood himself, even wrote several.
I have often wondered if the cantus firmus in pieces like this â whether based on this antiphon or some other Gregorian chant â is meant to be heard, rather than seen if you have the music in front of you. Because as for me I simply CANNOT hear it. In this video I have provided the score and marked the c.f. â and I STILL cannot hear it. Frankly I doubt if anyone could, however well trained their ear, let alone if anyone could actually identify the tune, progressing as it does much more slowly than the chant does if actually sung by a choir of monks. Moreover, from this video it seems clear to me that the setting takes no notice of the Latin words of the chant â its phrases sit athwart those of the Latin text. Evidently the fact that such pieces are based on a tune that originally served a liturgical function does not mean that the pieces have any sort of spiritual dimension themselves. Using a Gregorian chant as a c.f. for a polyphonic setting was clearly simply the done thing, hallowed by tradition but by now perceived simply as an intellectual challenge rather than as a religious exercise.
For more information about the organ see the description of my video of Thomas Tallisâs âRemember not o Lordâ, uploaded at the same time. The stops used in this recording, Praestant 8âČ and Quint 3âČ, are original [the text can also be found further down].
Anna Amalia von Preussen (1727-83): Marche pour le régiment du Général de Möllendorff
(English below) Anna Amalia von Preussen war jĂŒngstes Kind einer musikalisch begabten Familie; neben ihr traten als Komponisten hervor ihr Ă€ltester Bruder, König Friedrich II., und ihre Ă€lteste, nach Bayreuth verheiratete Schwester Wilhelmine. Auf diesem Kanal ist sie prĂ€sent, weil sie orgelaffin war und in beiden ihrer Berliner Residenzen ĂŒber bedeutende zweimanualige Instrumente verfĂŒgte.
Als Komponistin ehrgeizig, hat sie doch nur vergleichsweise wenige Werke hinterlassen, was anscheinend auch daran liegt, daĂ die ĂŒberkritische Prinzessin viele davon selbst vernichtete. Ihre wohl nur zufĂ€llig erhaltenen Orgelkompositionen haben (leider) eher den Charakter harmonischer Exerzitien, wie sie ihr Lehrer und lebenslanger Vertrauter Joh. Philipp Kirnberger ĂŒber die MaĂen schĂ€tzte. Um zu erkennen, wozu die Prinzessin fĂ€hig war, muĂ man sich anderen Instrumentierungen zuwenden.
In einer Transkription von Christa Rakich habe ich bereits das groĂartige Adagio aus ihrer Flötensonate in F eingespielt. Neugierig machten mich ihre RegimentsmĂ€rsche. Vier davon befinden sich in zwei Autographen der Berliner Staatsbibliothek, die Abschrift eines weiteren besitzt die UniversitĂ€ts- und Landesbibliothek Darmstadt. Die vier Berliner MĂ€rsche wurden, offenbar in den 1920er Jahren, schon einmal in einer Version fĂŒr Streichquartett von dem Berliner Geiger und Dirigenten Gustav Lenzewski sen. (1857-1928) herausgegeben (Lenzewskis Vorwort verdanke ich den Hinweis auf den DarmstĂ€dter Marsch, den er selbst nicht bearbeitet hat).
Ich lege nun eine Orgelbearbeitung aller fĂŒnf MĂ€rsche vor, verfĂŒgbar hier.
Die Bearbeitungen sind manualiter spielbar (und damit natĂŒrlich nicht nur auf der Orgel): eines Pedalparts, so stellte sich heraus, bedarf diese leichtfĂŒĂige, behende Musik nicht. Jeder der fĂŒnf MĂ€rsche ist anders, jeder originell, jeder stellt zumal das harmonische Können der Komponistin unter Beweis. Beeindruckend die Dichte ihrer musikalischen Ideen, deren Kompaktheit mutmaĂlich dem Charakter damaliger ArmeemĂ€rsche geschuldet war. Ich habe zur MilitĂ€rmusik im 18.Jh. keine ernstzunehmenden Forschungen finden können. Aus dem Vergleich mit den anderen MĂ€rschen, die das DarmstĂ€dter Manuskript enthĂ€lt, schlieĂe ich, daĂ ein Armeemarsch damals typischerweise aus zwei Teilen bestand, die wohl beliebig wiederholbar sein sollten, aber nicht lang sein durften. (Ăber den Grund rĂ€tsele ich: vielleicht hatte es damit zu tun, daĂ die Instrumentalisten die Noten ja irgendwie vor sich tragen muĂten.)
Anders als Anna Amalias eigenhĂ€ndige Abschriften enthĂ€lt das DarmstĂ€dter Manuskript, aus dem Musikarchiv des dortigen Hofes, keine Partitur, sondern Stimmen fĂŒr die Einzelinstrumente und war sicher zur Benutzung gedacht. Bei den Berliner MĂ€rschen weiĂ ich ĂŒber ihre praktische Verwendung nichts. Allerdings wĂŒrde Anna Amalia sie schwerlich bestimmten Personen bzw. Regimentern gewidmet haben, wenn sie nicht damit rechnen konnte, daĂ diese Werke bei den Adressaten erwĂŒnscht waren. Lenzewski erwĂ€hnt Korrespondenz der Prinzessin, nach der sie hĂ€ufig um Kompositionen und namentlich um Marschmusik gebeten worden sei: ich habe davon bisher freilich nichts finden können. Ludwig IX., Landgraf von Hessen-Darmstadt von 1768 bis 1790, war selbst Komponist zahlreicher MĂ€rsche (zwei davon in dem erwĂ€hnten Manuskript enthalten): möglich scheint, daĂ er den DarmstĂ€dter Marsch bei Anna Amalia âbestelltâ hat.
AuĂer dem von spĂ€terer Hand hinzugefĂŒgten Vermerk der Autorschaft der Prinzessin enthĂ€lt das DarmstĂ€dter Manuskript keine weiteren Informationen zu dem ihr zugeschriebenen Marsch. In den Berliner Manuskripten hat sie die Widmung und das Datum der Komposition jedes Marsches festgehalten. Der hier eingespielte, von 1777, ist rund zehn Jahre jĂŒnger als die drei in dem anderen Manuskript.
Wichard von Möllendorff (1724-1816) ĂŒbernahm 1771 das spĂ€ter mit der Nr. 39 bezeichnete Infanterieregiment der altpreuĂischen Armee mit Standort Königsberg i.d. Neumark (Chojna im heutigen Polen). 1773 wurde er Generalleutnant; daher im Manuskript wohl das âLâ hinter dem Wort âGeneralâ, selbst wenn dies nur zur deutschen Form âGeneral-Lieutenantâ passt und damit nicht zu Anna Amalias sonst französisch geschriebenem Titel. (In dem anderen Berliner Manuskript schreibt sie vor die Namen zweier Offiziere desselben Dienstgrades âL. GĂ©nĂ©ralâ entsprechend der französischen Form âLieutenant-GĂ©nĂ©ralâ.) Möllendorff erreichte spĂ€ter als Generalfeldmarschall die höchste Stufe der preuĂischen MilitĂ€rhierarchie.
Anna Amalia was the youngest child of a musically gifted family. Two of her siblings also distinguished themselves as composers, namely her eldest brother, King Frederic II, and her eldest sister Wilhelmine, married to the Margrave of Brandenburg-Kulmbach at Bayreuth. Anna Amalia attracted my particular interest because she played the organ: she owned substantial two-manual instruments at both her residences in Berlin.
Despite her strong musical ambition Anna Amalia has left comparatively few works; not least perhaps because, hypercritical, she seems to have destroyed much of her output herself. Her organ works would appear to be chance survivals that bear the character of the harmonic exercises that her teacher and lifelong confidant, Johann Philipp Kirnberger, prized so much and felt you could never do enough of. To see what the princess was capable of it is necessary to look at her works for other instruments.
In the past I have recorded the magnificent Adagio from her flute sonata in F in a transcription by Christa Rakich. And I have long been curious about her regimental marches. Four of them survive in two autograph manuscripts in the Berlin Staatsbibliothek, the contemporary copy of another is held by the UniversitĂ€ts- und Landesbibliothek in Darmstadt. The four marches from the Berlin manuscripts have been edited, sometime in the 1920s, in an arrangement for string quartet by the Berlin conductor and violinist Gustav Lenzewski sen. (1857-1928). Lenzewskiâs preface pointed me to the march in Darmstadt, which however he himself did not edit.
I have now published keyboard arrangements of all five marches, available here.
My arrangements were really made with the organ in mind. I originally envisaged a pedal part â but this sprightly, light-footed music does not need one. Each of the five marches is different. Each is highly original. They all demonstrate Anna Amaliaâs harmonic expertise. They present a surprising number of musical ideas in a very compact form, which must have something to do with the constraints facing 18th-c. marching bands. I have been unable to find any serious research on military music of the period. But comparison with the other marches in the Darmstadt manuscript suggests that a typical 18th-c. military march consisted of twin sections that could be alternated as often as desired but which needed to be short â a possible explanation being that the players had to be able to carry the music before them.
The Darmstadt manuscript comes from the musical archives of the Darmstadt court. Unlike Anna Amaliaâs autographs the music in it is not in score but in parts, suggesting that it was intended for practical use. Regarding the Berlin marches I have no information at all as to whether and how they were performed. But Anna Amalia would hardly have dedicated marches to specific people and regiments if she had not expected them at least to be welcome. Lenzewski mentions correspondence by the princess from which it appears that she was frequently asked for compositions and in particular for marches: however, I have been unable to identify this correspondence. Landgrave Louis IX of Hesse-Darmstadt (reigned 1768-90) himself wrote numerous military marches (two of them contained in the aforementioned manuscript) and it is conceivable that he commissioned the Darmstadt march from Anna Amalia.
A note added by a later hand identifies the Darmstadt march as the work of the princess but contains no further information. By contrast, in her autographs Anna Amalia states the date of composition and the dedication for each of the four marches they contain. The one recorded here, of 1777, was written about a decade after the three contained in the other Berlin manuscript (of 1767 and 1768).
Wichard von Möllendorff (1724-1816) was given the infantry regiment later known as no. 39 of the old Prussian army in 1771; it was stationed at Königsberg in der Neumark (Chojna in what is now Poland). In 1773 he was made lieutenant-general; hence, presumably, the letter âLâ after the word âGĂ©nĂ©ralâ in the manuscript (even though this only fits the German form âGeneral-Lieutenantâ and is at odds with the fact that the title of the piece is in French â in the other Berlin manuscript, also in French, Anna Amalia wrote âL. GĂ©nĂ©ralâ, corresponding to the French form âLieutenant-GĂ©nĂ©ralâ). Later Möllendorff rose to the rank of General-Feldmarschall, the highest in the Prussian military hierarchy.
The portrait of Anna Amalia as a young woman shown at the end of the video is by the Berlin court painter Antoine Pesne. The drawing of Anna Amalia towards the end of her life, by Adolph Menzel (1815-1905), is based on a contemporary engraving, also shown.
Anon. (after J.-B. Lully 1661): Canción para la corneta con el eco (Ménestérol)
The CanciĂłn para la corneta con el eco for solo stop (the cornet, here deputised for by the sesquialtera) and âechoâ is an arrangement by an unknown Spanish organist of the âfirst entranceâ (premiĂšre entrĂ©e) of a ballet (Ballet royal de lâImpatience) by Jean-Baptiste Lully. The original ballet was performed on 19 February 1661 in the palace of Versailles, with king Louis XIV himself among the dancers. The author of the arrangement took only the tune (minus the accompaniment), subjecting it to some rhythmic modifications and adding the âechoâ. The piece is contained in a manuscript collection in the national library at Madrid (Flores de mĂșsica, obras y versos de varios organistas. Escriptas por Fray Antonio MartĂn Coll, organista de San Diego de AlcalĂĄ. Año de 1706).
Andreas Armsdorf (1670-99): Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern (Kalvarienkirche Szombathely)
(English below) Johann Gottfried Walther sagt in seinem 1732 veröffentlichten Musicalischen Lexicon zu Armsdorf, dieser sei âein von MĂŒhlberg bey Gotha gebĂŒrtiger Studiosus Juris [Student der Rechte], woselbst er An. 1670 den 9 Sept. das Tages Licht erblicket, und sein Vater Ăltester und Gericht-Schöppe gewesen; wurde in Erffurt anfĂ€nglich an der Regler- hierauff an der S. Andreas-Kirche ums Jahr 1698, und letztlich an der Kauffmanns-Kirche daselbst Organist, in welcher Bedienung er An. 1699. den 31. Decemb. im 28ten Jahr seines Alters gestorben ist, nachdem er verschiedene Kirchen- und Clavier-StĂŒcke gesetzet.â Die Matrikel der UniversitĂ€t Erfurt widerspricht Walther insofern, als sich Armsdorf nicht als Jura-, sondern als Theologiestudent einschrieb. Auch die Altersangabe hĂ€tte Walther als rechnerisch falsch auffallen können: den von ihm ĂŒberlieferten Daten nach starb Armsdorf nicht im 28., sondern im 30. Lebensjahr. Das Sterbedatum stimmt indes, denn das BegrĂ€bnisbuch der Gemeinde der Erfurter Predigerkirche â vermutlich wohnte Armsdorf in dieser Pfarre â verzeichnet seine Beisetzung am 3. Januar 1700. Als Organist an der Reglerkirche war Armsdorf anscheinend seit 1691 tĂ€tig.
âClavierâ bedeutete zur damaligen Zeit jedes Tasteninstrument; âKirchen-StĂŒckeâ meint Kantaten und dergleichen. Von letzteren ist anscheinend nichts erhalten. Hingegen zeugt die groĂe Zahl von Abschriften Armsdorfâscher Choralbearbeitungen davon, daĂ diese sich im ganzen 18. Jahrhundert einiger Beliebtheit erfreuten. Die Gesamtausgabe von Klaus Beckmann enthĂ€lt 32 Choralbearbeitungen, die Armsdorf sicher zuzuschreiben sind, sowie drei weitere und eine Fuge, die wahrscheinlich von ihm stammen.
Die Beckmann-Ausgabe verzeichnet nicht weniger als neun Abschriften des hier eingespielten StĂŒcks. Bis auf die im Video eingeblendete und eine weitere, fĂŒr die erstere offenbar das Muster war, nennen alle als Komponisten Johann Heinrich Buttstedt (1666-1727), seit 1691 Organist der Erfurter Predigerkirche (nachdem auch er erst an der Regler-, dann an der Kaufmannskirche tĂ€tig war). Alle bis auf die zwei erstgenannten Abschriften lassen auch die vier Anfangstakte vor Einsetzen des Pedalparts weg. Beckmann ist aber ĂŒberzeugt, daĂ sowohl die Zuschreibung an Armsdorf korrekt ist als auch die in den entsprechenden Handschriften wiedergegebene Fassung die ursprĂŒngliche.
Die eingeblendete Handschrift befindet sich in der Staatsbibliothek Berlin, die als Entstehungszeit 1775-1800 angibt. Grundlage hierfĂŒr dĂŒrfte das Wasserzeichen des verwendeten Papiers sein. Das Konvolut enthĂ€lt auch Werke, die Mitgliedern der Bach-Familie zugeschrieben wurden, und erscheint deshalb bei bach-digital.de . Dort wird allerdings als Entstehungszeit âca. 1820-39â genannt.
In his Musicalisches Lexicon published in 1732 Johann Gottfried Walther says about Armsdorf that he was âa law student from MĂŒhlberg near Gotha, where he came into this world on 9 September 1670, his father having been an alderman and lay judge at MĂŒhlberg. He was an organist in Erfurt, first at the Reglerkirche, then from about 1698 at Saint Andrewâs Church, and finally at the Merchantsâ Church, in which post he died on 31 December 1699 in the 28th year of his life. He composed various music both for the church and for the keyboard.â The matriculation record of Erfurt university contradicts Walther inasmuch as it shows Armsdorf to have enrolled as a student not of law but of theology. And Walther might have noticed that the age he assigns to Armsdorf at his death does not square with the dates he himself provides and according to which Armsdorf was actually in his 30th year when he died. The day of his death appears to be given correctly since the parish records of the Predigerkirche in Erfurt state that he was buried on 3 January 1700 (presumably, then, Armsdorf lived at an address in that parish). Armsdorf seems to have played the organ of the Reglerkirche (so called because in pre-Reformation days it was the collegiate church of the Austin Canons Regular) from 1691 onwards.
âVarious music for the churchâ no doubt refers to cantatas and the like. None of this seems to have come down to us. It is different with the keyboard music: the large number of surviving manuscript copies of chorale preludes by Armsdorf shows that these remained popular throughout the 18th century. The complete edition by Klaus Beckmann contains 32 preludes that can securely be attributed to Armsdorf, and three more and a fugue that are likely also by him.
Beckmannâs edition lists no fewer than nine manuscript copies of the piece recorded here. Except for the one shown in the video, and one other considered to be based on it, all of them name Johann Heinrich Buttstedt as the composer. Buttstedt was also organist first of the Reglerkirche and then the Merchantsâ Church before becoming organist of the Predigerkirche in 1691. The same manuscripts also all omit the introductory four measures of the piece before the start of the pedal part. Beckmann is convinced, however, that the attribution to Armsdorf is the correct one and that the version with introductory measures heard here is the original one.
The manuscript shown in the video is in the Berlin Staatsbibliothek, which states in its catalogue that it dates from the period 1775-1800. This is presumably based on the watermark of the paper. However, the same manuscript also contains works that have at some point been attributed to members of the Bach family and hence is listed on bach-digital.de . That site states the manuscript to date from âca. 1820-1839â.
A.B. Marx (1795-1866) & A.W. Bach (1796-1869): Der Tag ist hin, mein Jesu bei mir bleibe (ChoralsĂ€tze): siehe unter âMarxâ / See above under âMarxâ
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-88): Adagio e mesto Wq 70,5-2
English below | Mittelsatz der Sonate fĂŒr Orgel D-Dur Wq 70,5; Einrichtung fĂŒr Orgel pedaliter bei Otto Gauss (Kleine OrgelstĂŒcke aus drei Jahrhunderten, zuerst 1947). [Berichtigung: Gauss fand das StĂŒck in dieser Form offenbar in Bd. 3 von A.W. Ritters „Kunst des Orgelspiels“.] C.P.E. Bach, Cembalist Friedrichs II. von PreuĂen, schrieb die Sonaten Wq 70 (oder einige davon) fĂŒr die heute so genannte Amalienorgel, die 1755 in Gebrauch genommene Hausorgel der Schwester des Königs, Anna Amalia. DaĂ er sie (anders als die Anna Amalia gewidmeten Cembalo-Sonaten Wq 50 von 1760) nicht veröffentlichte, mag damit zusammenhĂ€ngen, daĂ diese Sonaten den Manualumfang der Amalienorgel nutzen â viereinhalb Oktaven statt der damals in Mitteleuropa ĂŒblichen vier â und damit anderswo nicht ohne weiteres spielbar waren.
Ăber diese Sonaten schrieb J.N. Forkel (berĂŒhmt als erster Biograph J.S. Bachs): âDiese ⊠Orgel-Solos sind fĂŒr eine Prinzessin gemacht, die kein Pedal und keine Schwierigkeiten spielen konnte, ob sie sich gleich eine schöne Orgel mit zwei Clavieren und Pedal machen lieĂ und gerne darauf spielte.â
Es ist zweifelhaft, wie gut Forkel (1749-1818, Musikdirektor der UniversitĂ€t Göttingen und Organist der UniversitĂ€tskirche), ĂŒber die FĂ€higkeiten der Prinzessin unterrichtet war. Peter Hauschild, in seiner kritischen Edition der Sonaten, meint, man mĂŒsse âForkels hĂ€ufig zitierte anekdotische Notiz mit einer gewissen Skepsis betrachten: ist sie vielleicht der Versuch âŠ, fĂŒr die von ihm gewiss als Mangel empfundene Pedallosigkeit der Sonaten ⊠eine Entschuldigung zu finden? Die eigentliche Ursache fĂŒr den Verzicht auf das Pedal dĂŒrfte wohl in dem Stilwandel zur FrĂŒhklassik begrĂŒndet seinâ (Netzauftritt des Verlages, Ă€hnlich das Vorwort der Druckausg.).
TatsĂ€chlich aber war C.P.E. Bach selbst kein Pedalspieler. Als der englische Musikschriftsteller Charles Burney ihn 1772 in Hamburg aufsucht, delegiert Bach die VorfĂŒhrung der Orgel der Michaeliskirche an jemand anders: âHerr Bach ⊠sagt, er wisse nichts mehr auf dem Pedal zu machen, welches durch ganz Deutschland fĂŒr so wesentlich nothwendig gehalten wird, daĂ man den fĂŒr keinen guten Organisten achtet, der es nicht zu gebrauchen weiĂ.â (Burney, Tagebuch einer musikalischen Reise, ĂŒbers. Ebeling 1773).
Bach sah wohl schon in seinen 30 Berliner Jahren kaum Veranlassung zum Pedalspiel. Anna Amalia wiederum kann zumindest auf den Manualen nicht ganz schlecht gewesen sein. Ihre Schwester Ulrike, Königin von Schweden, erinnert sich 1755 in einem Brief an Friedrich II., wie Anna Amalia ihr durch stundenlanges Ăben am Cembalo auf die Nerven fiel, als die beiden sich als MĂ€dchen ein Zimmer teilten (ââŠma soeur AmĂ©lie qui, toute la journĂ©e, Ă©tait au clavecin, et souvent je mâen impatientais, Ă©tant logĂ©e dans une mĂȘme chambreâ). Graf Lehndorff, Kammerherr der Königin, berichtet in seinem Tagebuch von einer Geburtstagsfeier fĂŒr den Prinzen Heinrich im Januar 1756: âNachdem wir die Runde in der Galerie gemacht haben [als kostĂŒmierter Festzug], begibt sich die Musik ins Orchester. Die Prinzessin Amalie, die die Musik komponiert hat, spielt nun Klavier [Cembalo]â (dt. Ăbers. 1907; Original frz., verschollen).
Anna Amalia ĂŒber ihr neues Instrument: âHeute habe ich zum ersten Mal auf meiner Orgel gespielt ⊠der Klang ist bezaubernd ⊠es hat mir wirklich Freude gemacht, die StraĂenjungen haben sich nicht versammelt, obschon die BalkontĂŒr offenstand, das zeigt, daĂ das Instrument nicht die gewöhnliche Kraft wie in einer Kirche hatâ (âjâai jouĂše [!] aujourdâhui pour la premiere [!] fois de mes orges [!] ⊠le son est charmant ⊠celĂ [!] ma [!] fait un vrai plaisir, le [!] garçon [!] de la ruĂ« [!] ne se sont point attroupĂš [!] quoique le balcon ait ĂštĂš [!] ouvert, cela prouve que lâinstrument nâa pas la force ordinaire comme pour une Egliseâ â âWilhelm wird Ihnen sagen, daĂ er der Einweihung meiner neuen Orgel beigewohnt hat, jeden Tag nach dem Essen trotte ich dorthin, die einzige LeibesĂŒbung, die ich mir gönne, und das einzige, das mir Freude machtâ (âGuill: vous contera quâil a ĂštĂš [!] present [!] Ă lâincuration [inauguration?] de mon orgue; jây trotte toutes les aprĂšs-dinĂšes [!], câest le seul exercice que je me donne, et la seule chose qui me fasse plaisirâ)(Zitate aus undatierten Briefen an die SchwĂ€gerin Wilhelmine; Anna Amalia war leidenschaftliche Legasthenikerin).
FĂŒr die Erstveröffentlichung der Sonaten sorgte, wohl 1790, der Berliner Buchdrucker, MusikalienhĂ€ndler und Komponist J.C.F. Rellstab. Im Vorwort erlĂ€utert er, den Notentext so angepaĂt zu haben, daĂ er auf vier Oktaven spielbar ist. In einer Abschrift aus seiner Hamburger Zeit vermerkt Bach selbst zu den Sonaten Wq 70, 4 und 70,5, sie seien âohne Pedalâ zu spielen. Die Rellstab-Edition enthĂ€lt keinen solchen Hinweis; der Druck auf zwei statt drei Systemen war auch fĂŒr solche Orgelwerke ĂŒblich, bei denen die unterste Stimme als Pedalpart zu lesen ist. Das kann man ebenso bei dem vorliegen StĂŒck tun.
Middle movement of the sonata for organ in D major Wq 70,5, played from the edition for manuals and pedals in Otto Gauss, Kleine OrgelstĂŒcke aus drei Jahrhunderten (first published 1947; the arrangement â if it can be called that, since all it does is distribute the music on three instead of two staves â is presumably by Gauss himself). [Edit: no. Gauss evidently found the piece in this form in vol.3 of A.W. Ritter’s „Kunst des Orgelspiels“.] C.P.E. Bach, harpsichordist in the service of Frederic II of Prussia, wrote the sonatas Wq 70 for the new house organ of the kingâs sister, Anna Amalia, built in 1755.
Unlike the six harpsichord sonatas Wq 50 of 1760 he did not publish them â perhaps because the organ sonatas make use of the instrumentâs unusual manual compass of four-and-a-half octaves. As Central European organs at that time normally had a manual compass of only four octaves, this meant that the sonatas could not be played as written.
Johann Nicolaus Forkel (famous as J.S. Bachâs first biographer) commented: âThese ⊠organ solos were written for a princess who could not play the pedals or difficult passages, even though she commissioned a beautiful organ with two manuals and pedals for herself and liked to play on it.â It is questionable how well-informed Forkel (1749-1818), director of music of Göttingen University and organist of the university church, actually was regarding the princessâs abilities as a keyboard player. Peter Hauschild, in his critical edition of the sonatas, thinks that âForkelâs oft-quoted anecdotal remark should probably be treated with a degree of scepticism: is it perhaps an attempt ⊠to find an excuse for the absence of a pedal part from the sonatas, which doubtless he ⊠regarded as a fault? The real reason for this absence is probably the stylistic transition to early classicismâ (publisherâs website; cf. the preface of the printed edition).
In fact, however, C.P.E. Bach himself avoided the pedals. When Charles Burney called on him in Hamburg in 1772, Bach delegated the demonstration of the organ at St Michaelâs church to someone else: âM. Bach has so long neglected organ-playing, that he says he has lost the use of the pedals, which are thought so essential throughout Germany, that no one can pass for a player worth hearing, who is unable to use them.â (Burney, The Present State of Music in Germany etc., vol. ii).
It seems likely that during his thirty years in Berlin Bach saw little need to keep up his skills on the pedals. As for Anna Amalia she probably was a competent player at least on the manuals. Her sister Ulrica, queen of Sweden, in a letter to Frederic II of 1755, recalls how Anna Amalia used to get on her nerves by practising the harpsichord for hours when, as girls, the two shared a room (ââŠma soeur AmĂ©lie qui, toute la journĂ©e, Ă©tait au clavecin, et souvent je mâen impatientais, Ă©tant logĂ©e dans une mĂȘme chambreâ). Count Lehndorff, the Prussian queenâs chamberlain, in his diary reports a birthday party for Prince Henry of Prussia in January 1756: âOnce we have made the rounds of the gallery [as a costumed procession] the musicians take their places. The Princess Amalia, who has composed the music, now plays the harpsichordâ (âNachdem wir die Runde in der Galerie gemacht haben, begibt sich die Musik ins Orchester. Die Prinzessin Amalie, die die Musik komponiert hat, spielt nun Klavier [Cembalo]â â German trans. of 1907; the French original is apparently lost).
Anna Amalia on her new instrument: âToday I played on my organ for the first time ⊠the sound is charming ⊠I really enjoyed it, the street urchins did not congregate even though the balcony doors stood open, this shows that the instrument does not have the usual force as for a churchâ (âjâai jouĂše [!] aujourdâhui pour la premiere [!] fois de mes orges [!] ⊠le son est charmant ⊠celĂ [!] ma [!] fait un vrai plaisir, le [!] garçon [!] de la ruĂ« [!] ne se sont point attroupĂš [!] quoique le balcon ait ĂštĂš [!] ouvert, cela prouve que lâinstrument nâa pas la force ordinaire comme pour une Egliseâ â âWilliam will tell you that he was present at the inauguration of my new organ, every day after dinner I trot over there, it is the only exercise I allow myself and the only thing I enjoyâ (âGuill: vous contera quâil a ĂštĂš [!] present [!] Ă lâincuration [inauguration?] de mon orgue; jây trotte toutes les aprĂšs-dinĂšes [!], câest le seul exercice que je me donne, et la seule chose qui me fasse plaisirâ) (quoted from two undated letters to her sister-in-law Wilhelmine; Anna Amalia was a committed dyslexic).
The sonatas were first published, probably in1790, by the Berlin printer, music dealer and composer J.C.F. Rellstab. In his preface he explains that he adapted the music so as to make it playable on four octaves. In a manuscript copy from his Hamburg period Bach himself marked the sonatas Wq 70, 4 and 70,5 as playable âwithout pedalsâ. Rellstabâs edition contains no such indication. It is printed on two staves, but at the time this was perfectly common even for organ works where the bass part was obviously to be played on the pedals. Which you can also do in the case of the present piece.
Johann Bernhard Bach (1676-1749): Vom Himmel hoch da komm ich her (Ménestérol)
(English below) Johann Bernhard Bach war â natĂŒrlich â mit Johan Sebastian Bach verwandt: wenn ich den Stammbaum richtig deute, waren die vĂ€terlichen GroĂvĂ€ter BrĂŒder, Johann Bernhard und Johann Sebastian demnach Vettern zweiten Grades. Man schĂ€tzte sich, fĂŒhrte sich gegenseitig auf (nachweisbar mindestens Johann Sebastian Johann Bernhard). Johann Sebastian war Pate fĂŒr Johann Bernhards Sohn, Johann Bernhard fĂŒr einen der Söhne Johann Sebastians (Johann Gottfried). In Erfurt geboren, bekleidete Johann Bernhard OrganistenĂ€mter zunĂ€chst dort, dann in Magdeburg, ehe er 1703 als Cembalist ins herzogliche Hoforchester nach Eisenach wechselte (dessen Konzertmeister war von 1708 bis 1712 Georg Philipp Telemann). Zugleich trat er die Nachfolge seines Onkels Johann Christoph als Organist der Georgenkirche, d.h. der Eisenacher Hauptkirche an. Mit seinen eleganten, irgendwie modisch klingenden Begleitfiguren eignet Johann Bernhards Version des Lutherliedes in meinen Ohren etwas Höfisches. Mit diesem StĂŒck starte ich eine Miniserie mit Bearbeitungen von âVom Himmel hochâ â das kaum ein deutscher Komponist von Orgelwerken ausgelassen zu haben scheint. Dazu auch eine Playlist (wo das StĂŒck mit Bearbeitungenvon Zachow, Pachelbel und Gattermann bereits aus frĂŒherer Zeit vertreten ist): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list⊠Ebenfalls von Joh. Bernhard Bach auf diesem Kanal: Ciacona in G
Johann Bernhard Bach was â of course â related to Johann Sebastian Bach. If I interpret the family tree correctly, their paternal grandfathers were brothers, which I suppose makes Johann Bernhard and Johann Sebastian cousins once removed. They held each other in esteem and performed each otherâs works (at least we know that Johann Sebastian performed Johann Bernhard). Johann Sebastian was godfather to Johann Bernhardâs son, and Johann Bernhard to one of Johann Sebastianâs sons (Johann Gottfried). Born in Erfurt, Johann Bernhard was an organist at first in his native city and then in Magdeburg before joining the court orchestra in Eisenach in 1703 as harpsichordist (Georg Philipp Telemann would be the orchestraâs leader from 1708 to 1712). At the same time he succeeded his uncle Johann Christoph Bach as organist of the Georgenkirche, the main parish church in Eisenach. The elegant, somehow fashionable-sounding accompanimental part to my ears gives Johann Bernhardâs take on Lutherâs chorale a courtly, urbane character. With this piece I am starting a miniseries with arrangements of Vom Himmel Hoch (From Heaven Above) â which not many German composers of works for the organ seem to have been able to keep away from. All will of course be added to a playlist (where the piece is already represented by arrangements by Zachow, Pachelbel and Gattermann). Also by Johann Bernhard Bach on this channel: Ciacona in G
J.S. Bach (1685-1750): Es ist das Heil uns kommen her BWV 638 (Cantus firmus markiert)(Velesovo)
(English below) Johann Sebastian Bachs Bearbeitung des Chorals âEs ist das Heil uns kommen herâ aus dem OrgelbĂŒchlein. Es ist allgemein ĂŒblich geworden, bei der Wiedergabe der OrgelchorĂ€le Johann Sebastian Bachs die von diesem selbst wie von den zeitgenössischen Kopisten notierten Fermaten am SchluĂ der einzelnen Phrasen der Choralmelodie zu ignorieren. Es gibt dafĂŒr sogar musikwissenschaftliche BegrĂŒndungen. Ich halte diese Praxis aber fĂŒr der Tatsache geschuldet, daĂ die fraglichen StĂŒcke heutzutage ohne RĂŒcksicht (ja vielfach wohl ohne Vertrautheit oder selbst nur Kenntnis) der ursprĂŒnglichen Choralmelodien gespielt werden, als âreineâ, âabstrakteâ Musik ohne liturgischen Bezug. Zumal beim Einstudieren hĂ€lt man sich nicht mit der Verlangsamung auf, die die Fermaten eigentlich erfordern. Irgendwann war es derart gĂ€ngig geworden, die StĂŒcke ohne fermatenbedingte Rubati zu spielen, daĂ dies heute vielen sogar âfalschâ klingen mag. Die musikwissenschaftlichen BegrĂŒndungen, wonach dies Bachs tatsĂ€chlicher Intention entspreche, habe ich im Verdacht, in Wahrheit Rationalisierungen dieser heute fest eingebĂŒrgerten Praxis zu sein. Sachlich sind sie zumindest angreifbar. MuĂ man sich bei der Wiedergabe barocker Choralvorspiele nicht immer vorstellen können, daĂ dadurch eine Gemeinde zum Singen motiviert wird? Bach macht es dem Hörer nicht einfach, ĂŒberhaupt nur die Choralmelodie zu erkennen; dennoch muĂ man unterstellen, daĂ er davon ausging, daĂ sie erkannt wurde. Ein Grund mehr, scheint mir, die Phrasen der Melodie zu markieren, nicht zu verschleifen. Ein Grund auch, sich nicht im Tempo zu vergaloppieren (bei StĂŒcken wie diesem vielfach zu hören): eine Kirchengemeinde singt niemals schnell, nicht heute und nach allem was wir wissen erst recht nicht damals. â Vgl. auch meine Einspielungen von BWV 639 (âIch ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christâ) hier.
Johann Sebastian Bachâs arrangment of the hymn âEs ist das Heil uns kommen herâ (âSalvation unto us has comeâ) from the OrgelbĂŒchlein. It has become the general practice in playing J.S. Bachâs organ chorales to ignore the fermatas that he himself and contemporary copyists noted at the end of the phrases of the hymn tune. This practice even has its academic defenders. But I think that it is really the result of the fact that nowadays these pieces are played by people unfamiliar with (or indeed ignorant of) the actual hymn tunes, as âpureâ, âabstractâ music without any liturgical context. In practising these pieces one does not bother to take the time for the rubati mandated by the fermatas. By now, ignoring these has become so customary that to many people (re-)introducing the rubati may even sound âwrongâ. I suspect that the musicological arguments according to which disregard for the fermatas actually reflects Bachâs intention merely rationalise what has become a long-standing habit. The actual arguments themselves are open to question. Should one not play a Baroque chorale prelude in such a way that it would actually motivate a congregation to sing? Bach does not make it easy for the listener even to identify the hymn tune; yet one has to assume that he expected it to be identified. A good reason, I think, to mark the phrases of the tune rather than obscuring them. A good reason, too, not to play too fast (as happens so often with pieces like this one): a congregation never sings fast, not today and for all we know even less so then. â Compare also my recordings of BWV 639 (âIch ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christâ) here.
J.S. Bach (1685-1750): Ich ruf zu dir BWV 639 (UNVERZIERT)(Velesovo)
(English below) Warum klingt diese Aufnahme anders? BWV 639 zĂ€hlt zu Bachs bekanntesten Orgelwerken, wenig bekannt ist hingegen der zugrunde liegende Choral. Unvertrautheit mit der Choralmelodie und der Umstand, daĂ Bach sie teilweise durch ausgeschriebene Verzierungen verfremdet, fĂŒhren dazu, daĂ man BWV 639 ohne RĂŒcksicht auf diese Melodie spielt. Sie ist in der Art des 16. Jahrhunderts durch ein unregelmĂ€Ăiges Metrum gekennzeichnet. Bach setzt dem ĂŒberaus gleichförmige Begleitfiguren entgegen. Heutige Interpreten spielen diese Begleitfiguren durchweg mit uhrwerkshafter RegelmĂ€Ăigkeit. Eben dies wollte Bach aber offensichtlich nicht: wo eine Phrase der Choralmelodie mit einem bloĂen Viertel endet, setzt er Fermaten, die â entgegen einer hĂ€ufig vertretenen, aber nicht stichhaltig begrĂŒndbaren Auffassung â nur bedeuten können, als daĂ die Bewegung der Begleitfiguren zur Kennzeichnung der ZĂ€sur beinahe zum Stillstand kommen soll. Wo eine Phrase ohnehin mit einer langen Note endet, fehlen die Fermaten, doch gebietet die Logik, hier genauso zu verfahren. Neuere Interpreten (einschlieĂlich solcher Schwergewichte wie Karl Richter, Helmut Walcha, Ton Koopman) ignorieren diese Fermaten in der Regel vollstĂ€ndig. Daneben beginnen mit einer Ausnahme alle Phrasen der Choralmelodie mit einem Auftakt. Infolge der Unterordnung der Rhythmik der Choralmelodie unter die der Begleitfiguren wird dies in der ĂŒblich gewordenen Art der Interpretation verschliffen, schon am Anfang und erst recht innerhalb des StĂŒckes, wo man eben zur Kennzeichnung der Phrasenenden das rhythmische Fortschreiten unterbrechen muĂ. Das mag heutiger Spielpraxis seltsam scheinen, war aber offenbar im Choralvortrag der Zeit (gerade auch beim Singen durch die Gemeinde) absolut ĂŒblich.
Zur RĂŒckgewinnung der von Bach vermutlich beabsichtigten Spielweise habe ich das StĂŒck hier zunĂ€chst mit unverziertem Cantus firmus aufgenommen. Der Choral (ihn habe ich als einfachen vierstimmigen Satz hier eingespielt: http://youtu.be/jT8fB6-KJeo) erklingt also ĂŒber den Begleitfiguren der linken Hand und des Pedals in seiner ursprĂŒnglichen Form. Im zweiten Schritt habe ich der Melodie wieder die bekannte ausgezierte Form gegeben, in der sie in BWV 639 erscheint, sie jedoch so gespielt, daĂ sie möglichst erkennbar bleibt. Hiervon gibt es zwei etwas unterschiedlich registrierte Videos, zu finden unter http://youtu.be/59Z3O8BkPi8 und unter http://youtu.be/DPqt1Wr_-48
Why does this recording sound different? BWV 639 is among Bachâs best known organ works, but the hymn on which it is based is not well known. Lack of familiarity with the hymn tune and the fact that B. modifies some of it by means of written-out embellishments has led organists to play this piece without any regard for the tune. In typical 16th-c. fashion that tune is characterised by an irregular, somewhat quirky metre, which contrasts with the very orderly patterns of Bachâs accompaniment. Today this accompaniment is usually played with clockwork regularity. Clearly, however, that is not what Bach wanted. Where a phrase of the hymn tune ends on a mere crotchet, he places a fermata above it. Contrary to a widely held but ill-founded doctrine this can only mean that he wants the movement of the accompanimental patterns to come almost to a full stop, in order to mark the caesura. Where a phrase ends on a longer note there are no fermatas, but logic commands to treat them in the same way. Modern renderings (including by such authorities as Karl Richter, Helmut Walcha, Ton Koopman) usually ignore these fermatas completely. Moreover, each phrase of the hymn tune (with one exception) begins with a pickup note. Because modern players subordinate the cantus firmus to the rhythm of the accompaniment this too becomes inaudible, already at the beginning of the piece and fully so within it â precisely because, in order to mark the end of phrases, the rhythmic progression has to be stopped. To modern ears this may seem odd, but clearly at the time it was the normal thing to do when playing a hymn, or indeed having it sung by the congregation.
To get back to the way in which Bach presumably intended this piece to be played I have first recorded it with the cantus firmus played straight, omitting the embellishments. The hymn (I play a four-part setting of it here: http://youtu.be/jT8fB6-KJeo) is thus heard in its original form above the accompaniment in the left hand and the pedal part. The second step was to put the embellishments back while still playing the tune in such a way that it remains as recognisable as possible. I made two videos of this, found here: http://youtu.be/59Z3O8BkPi8 and (with a slightly different registration) here: http://youtu.be/DPqt1Wr_-48
J. S. Bach (1685-1750): Kommst du nun Jesu vom Himmel herunter BVW 650 (BureÄ)
(English below) Die 1748 oder 49 publizierten sogenannten SchĂŒbler-ChorĂ€le (Sechs Chorale von verschiedener Art, auf einer Orgel mit 2 Clavieren und Pedal vorzuspielen, verfertiget von Johann Sebastian Bach Königl: Pohln: und Chur.SachĂ. Hoff-Compositeur Capellm: u: Direct: Chor: Mus: Lips: In Verlegung Joh. Georg SchĂŒblers zu Zella am ThĂŒringer Walde. Sind zu haben in Leipzig bei Herr Capellm: Bachen, beĂż dessen Herrn Söhnen in Berlin und Halle, u: beĂż dem Verleger zu Zella) geben in mancher Hinsicht RĂ€tsel auf â teilweise der Art, wie sie fĂŒr J.S. Bach typisch sind; so scheint die Zahl der Buchstaben auf der zitierten Titelseite nicht zufĂ€llig zu sein. FĂŒnf der sechs StĂŒcke sind Orgelbearbeitungen von KantatensĂ€tzen, das sechste beruht vielleicht auf einer verlorenen Kantate. DaĂ die Bearbeitungen von Bach selbst stammen, wird vielfach bezweifelt, so mit dem Argument, sie hielten sich im Vergleich zu anderen Bearbeitungen von seiner Hand zu streng an das Original. AuffĂ€llig und ungeklĂ€rt die Wahl des alternativen Choraltitels âKommst du nun, Jesu, vom Himmel herunterâ. Die Kantate, die hier zugrunde liegt, ist BWV 137 âLobe den Herren, den mĂ€chtigen König der Ehrenâ. Gegenstand der Orgelbearbeitung (BWV 650) ist deren zweiter Satz, in der die Choralmelodie, nach ihrer hier erfolgten ĂberfĂŒhrung in den Walzertakt nurmehr etwas schwer wiederzuerkennen, zurĂŒcktritt gegen die wogenden Begleitfiguren der rechten Hand â in der Kantate der Solo-Violine zugewiesen, die der Altstimme, die den Text zu singen hat, etwas den Rang ablĂ€uft. Warum hat man die Orgelbearbeitung statt nach dem Choraltext von Joachim Neander nach dem alternativen Text von C.F. Nachtenhöfer benannt? Kurios auch, daĂ der Cantus firmus im mittleren System notiert ist, als wĂ€re er mit der linken Hand zu spielen. Interpretiert man, wie sonst ĂŒblich, das untere System als den Pedalpart, erfordert das StĂŒck einen Pedalvirtuosen, obschon ansonsten in der Sammlung offenkundig auf relativ leichte Spielbarkeit geachtet ist. Die ergibt sich hier erst, wenn, wie in der Regel der Fall, der Cantus firmus im Pedal gespielt wird, mittleres und unteres System also vertauscht werden.
The SchĂŒbler Chorales, printed in 1748 or 49, take their name from the publisher (the title page reads: Six chorales of diverse kinds, to be performed on an organ with two manuals and pedals, made by Johann Sebastian Bach, Royal Polish and Electoral Saxon court composer, Director of Choral Music at Leipzig. Published by Johann Georg SchĂŒbler at Zella at the foot of the Thuringian Forest. To be had at Leipzig from Herr Capellmeister Bach, from his sons at Berlin and Halle, and from the publisher at Zella). It is an enigmatic compilation in more ways than one. Thus, the number of letters on the title page may not be fortuitous â J.S. Bach loved the symbolism of numbers. Five of the six items are organ arrangements of cantata movements, the sixth is probably derived from a lost cantata. It has been doubted that the arrangements are by Bach himself, one argument being that they are too literal in comparison with other arrangements by him. Nor is it clear why the title âKommst du nun, Jesu, vom Himmel herunterâ (Comest thou, Jesu, now down from heaven) was chosen in preference to that of the hymn used in the original cantata, which is BWV 137 âLobe den Herren, den mĂ€chtigen König der Ehrenâ (Praise to the Lord the Almighty, the King of Creation). The organ arrangement (BWV 650) is based on the cantataâs second movement, in which the hymn tune â a little difficult to recognise as it is here transformed into a waltz â captures the attention rather less than the undulating accompaniment in the right hand. In the cantata this accompaniment is given to the solo violin, with which the alto voice that sings the hymn struggles to compete. Why was the organ arrangement not given the title of the well-known hymn by Joachim Neander, the alternative lyrics by C.F. Nachtenhöfer being chosen instead? It is also odd that the cantus firmus is assigned to the middle staff, as if it were to be played by the left hand. If, as is normal, the bottom staff is interpreted as the pedal part, the piece requires a pedal virtuoso, even though it is apparent that generally in this collection relatively easy playability was a concern. Here this is only achieved by having the middle staff change places with the lower staff, as indeed is customary.
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750): Pastorella BWV 590_1 (Cappel)
(English below) Gern vergleicht man den Kopfsatz von BWV 590 (hier zu hören, die anderen drei folgen in separaten Uploads) mit der Pastorale eines Zeitgenossen, Domenico Zipoli. Bach kopiert, was leicht zu kopieren ist (nicht von Zipoli natĂŒrlich), aber doch ĂuĂerlichkeiten darstellt: den wiegenden Dreiertakt, die Borduntöne, wie sie der Dudelsack der vorbildgebenden Pifferari (oder Zampognari, nach dem Zampogna genannten Dudelsack) erzeugt. Das waren italienische Hirtenmusikanten, die in der Adventszeit in die Stadt kamen, mehr ĂŒber sie im Video zu meiner Aufnahme der Pastorale eines weiteren italienischen Barockkomponisten, Bernardo Pasquini: https://youtu.be/FrkIUO1PYf8
Auch Zipoli oder Pasquini machen nicht Volks-, sondern Kunstmusik, aber: die Musik der Pifferari haben sie erlebt. Was Bach veranstaltet, lĂ€Ăt an den berĂŒhmten Holzschnitt denken, auf dem Albrecht DĂŒrer ein Nashorn abbildet. Ein Kunstwerk â und ganz klar ein Nashorn. Ebenso klar ist ist, daĂ DĂŒrer nie ein echtes Nashorn zu Gesicht bekommen hat.
Auch der Kopfsatz von BWV 590 ist groĂe Kunst â so sehr, daĂ fĂŒr mich, und das gilt auch fĂŒr die drei folgenden SĂ€tze, kein Zweifel besteht, daĂ BWV 590 entgegen anderslautenden Vermutungen wirklich von JSB ist. Das hĂ€tte so sonst keiner gekonnt. Das Ă€uĂert sich gerade auch in einer gewinnenden Verkopftheit. Da macht jemand sehr bedacht und bewuĂt Musik. So musikantisch besonders Satz 1 und 2 klingen mögen, dahinter steckt nicht ein Spielmann (der ebenfalls ein groĂer Komponist sein kann!), sondern ein musikalischer Intellektueller.
Ob die SĂ€tze der Pastorella tatsĂ€chlich zusammengehören, wird diskutiert. Sind sie alle wirklich fĂŒr die Orgel gedacht? Bei Orgelmusik schrieb man den Part fĂŒr die rechte Hand damals meist im BratschenschlĂŒssel, doch Abschriften der Pastorella verwenden den eher in der Cembalo-Literatur gebrĂ€uchlichen ViolinschlĂŒssel. Ein Pedalpart mit Haltenoten wie der im Kopfsatz von BWV 590 geht indes nur auf der Orgel, selbst ein Pedal-Clavichord oder Pedal-Cembalo versagt hier. Auch der dritte Satz scheint ein Solo- und ein Begleitmanual zu verlangen. (Weiter in der Videobeschreibung zu Satz 2)
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BWV 590 is usually called âPastoraleâ today, but all the more or less contemporary manuscripts label it âPastorellaâ (no autograph is extant).
The first movement BWV 590 (heard here, the other three follow in separate uploads) is often likened to the similarly well-known pastorale of Bachâs contemporary, Domenico Zipoli. Bach copies (not from Zipoli of course) what may be copied easily, but which ultimately constitutes formal aspects of the genre: the swaying triple time, the long-held bass notes produced by the bagpipes of the pifferari (or zampognari, the bagpipes being known as zampogne). They were Italian shepherd musicians who came to town during Advent, more on them in the video accompanying my recording of the pastorale of another Italian baroque composer, Bernardo Pasquini: https://youtu.be/FrkIUO1PYf8
Zipoli or Pasquini, too, produce art music, not folk music, but one senses that they have first-hand experience of the music of the pifferari. What Bach is doing is reminiscent of the famous woodcut by Albrecht DĂŒrer depicting a rhinoceros. A work of art â and unmistakeably a rhinoceros. At the same time it is clear that DĂŒrer had never seen such an animal in the flesh.
The opening movement of BWV 590 is great art too. So much so that for me there cannot be any doubt that this as well as the three movements that follow really are by JSB, even if that has been debated. No one else could have done this. What gives the work away is not least its charmingly cerebral character. This is by someone who makes music in a highly self-conscious, pre-meditated fashion. Movements 1 and 2 in particular may sound playful and spontaneous, but they are the work of a musical intellectual.
Whether the movements of the Pastorella really belong together has been debated along with their authorship. Are all four of them really meant for the organ? At the time the right-hand part of organ music was usually notated using the C-clef, but manuscripts of the Pastorella use the G-clef more customary in harpsichord music. However, a pedal part with long-held notes like that found in the opening movement of BWV 590 can only be played on the organ â not even a pedal clavichord or harpsichord could produce them. The third movement, too, seems to call for the solo part and the left-hand accompaniment to be played on separate manuals. (Continued in the video description for the second movement)
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750): Pastorella BWV 590_2 (Cappel)
(English below) Wohl nicht umsonst schreibt der Kopist der im Video gezeigten, von der Bachforschung als ziemlich maĂgeblich angesehenen Abschrift â ob er nun der BachschĂŒler J.P. Kellner war oder nicht â auf die Titelseite des ganzen BĂŒndels âpro organoâ. âKellnerâ lĂ€Ăt am Ende des ersten Satzes den betrĂ€chtlichen Rest der Seite frei, wĂ€hrend Satz 2 und 3 unmittelbar aneinander anschlieĂen und zwei BlĂ€tter völlig ausfĂŒllen; Satz 4 beginnt dann wieder auf einem eigenen Blatt. LĂ€Ăt sich daraus ableiten, Satz 2 bis 4 seien nachtrĂ€glich hinzugefĂŒgt worden und nicht ursprĂŒnglich zugehörig, weil der Kopist doch sonst Satz 2 auf demselben Blatt unmittelbar an Satz 1 hĂ€tte anschlieĂen können, so wie Satz 3 an Satz 2?
Es sieht aus, als sei das Manuskript in zwei Teilen entstanden, wobei beim Abschreiben des einen Teils der andere nicht zur Hand war. DafĂŒr sind nun freilich viele GrĂŒnde denkbar. Vermutlich entstand die Abschrift des ersten Satzes zuerst, da nur sie mit einer eigenen Ăberschrift versehen ist, nĂ€mlich âPastorella. pro organo.â Ăber den anderen SĂ€tzen fehlen Ăberschriften. Doch hat der Kopist Zweifel an der Zusammengehörigkeit der vier SĂ€tze offenbar ausdrĂŒcklich ausrĂ€umen wollen, indem er auf einer eigens hinzugefĂŒgten gemeinsamen Titelseite das Konvolut insgesamt als âPastorella pro organoâ etikettierte und hinzufĂŒgte âdi Johann Sebastian Bachâ (die Mischung aus Latein und Italienisch begegnet bei Musikhandschriften dieser Region und Epoche öfter).
Satz 2 der Pastorella trĂ€gt in den Handschriften keine Satzbezeichnung, so wenig wie die beiden folgenden. Man hat sich aber angewöhnt, Satzbezeichnungen hinzuzufĂŒgen: das Ensemble der vier SĂ€tze wird als âSuiteâ aufgefaĂt, eine barocke âSuiteâ fĂŒr Tasteninstrument hat wiederum als ersten oder â geht ein PrĂ€ludium voraus â zweiten Satz meist eine Allemande, also hat es sich hier um eine âAllemandeâ zu handeln! Was mit dieser Erkenntnis gewonnen ist, bleibt fraglich. Peter Williams in seinem Standardwerk The Organ Music of J.S. Bach weist sowohl auf Gemeinsamkeiten mit der klassischen Allemande wie auf Unterschiede hin.
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Whether or not he was J.P. Kellner, a pupil of Bach, the copyist of the manuscript shown in the video (and regarded as particularly relevant by Bach scholars) must have had a reason for inscribing the title page of the entirety of the four movements âpro organoâ. At the end of the first movement âKellnerâ leaves the entire sizeable remainder of the sheet empty, whereas he lets the third movement follow the second without leaving any space at all. Those two movements fill two entire sheets, with the fourth movement beginning on a new sheet. Can we deduce from this that movements 2-4 were added later and did not originally form part of the work â because otherwise the copyist would have let the second movement follow immediately after the first?
It looks as if the manuscript was written in two instalments, with one part out of reach while the other was being made. But there could be many reasons for this. Presumably the first movement was copied first, since it alone has a title of its own: âPastorella. pro organo.â The other movements lack individual titles. Yet the copyist in fact made a point of tying all four movements together, by adding a common title page labelling the whole of the manuscript âPastorella pro organoâ and adding âdi Johann Sebastian Bachâ (the mixture of Latin and Italian is frequently found in musical manuscripts of that period and region).
The second movement of the Pastorella is thus not called anything in the manuscripts, no more than the third and fourth. But it has become customary to give them titles anyway. The entirety of the four movements is treated as another Baroque keyboard suite, whose first (or, if there is a prelude, second) movement normally is an allemande: so the second movement has to be an âallemandeâ! One may question what is gained by this âinsightâ. Peter Williams, in his standard work The Organ Music of J.S. Bach, points out that the piece does have elements in common with the classic allemande, but that there are differences as well.
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750): Pastorella BWV 590_3 (Cappel)
(English below) Satz 3 der Pastorella BWV 590 wird heute ĂŒblicherweise als âAriaâ apostrophiert, aber wie die anderen Teile des Werks (mit der eingeschrĂ€nkten Ausnahme des ersten, siehe dazu die Videobeschreibung zu Satz 2, oben) trĂ€gt er in den Handschriften keine Ăberschrift. Kommentatoren, die die Pastorella als auch von JSB selbst viersĂ€tzig konzipiertes Werk anerkennen, deuten die âAriaâ in ihrer meditativen Stimmung als Vorausverweis auf die Passion Christi (wĂ€hrend die Gattung Pastorella/Pastorale als âHirtenmusikâ traditionell ja auf die Geburt Christi Bezug nimmt).
The third movement of the Pastorella BWV 590 is usually labelled an âAriaâ today, but like the other parts of the work (with the exception of the first, see however the video description of part 2 â above) it has no title in the manuscripts. Commentators who accept that the Pastorella was conceived as a four-part work by JSB himself interpret the meditative character of this piece as anticipating the passion of Christ (whereas the pastorella/pastorale as a genre is traditionally linked to the birth of Christ, witnessed by shepherds).
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750): Pastorella BWV 590_4 (Cappel)
(English below) Der vierte und letzte Satz der Pastorella BWV 590, eine dreistimmige Fuge, ist offenbar immer wieder separat abgeschrieben worden und kann in der Tat gut allein stehen. Liebhaber ausgefeilten Kontrapunkts kommen hier auf ihre Kosten, der eher heimelige Charakter der drei ersten SĂ€tze fehlt. Dabei ist dieser SchluĂsatz auch noch lĂ€nger als die anderen. Es schien mir musikalisch angebracht, auf die Wiederholung des zweiten Teils zu verzichten. Zumal dieser mit 38 gegenĂŒber 24 Takten der deutlich ausgedehntere ist, kommt mir die Form AAB hier passender vor als das doch etwas langatmige AABB â wenn es auch in den Handschriften verlangt wird.
KontinuitĂ€ten zwischen diesem und den anderen SĂ€tzen werden durchaus postuliert. So scheint das Fugenthema aus dem Weihnachtskanon âResonet in laudibusâ (âJosef, lieber Josef meinâ) abgeleitet, passend zum weihnachtlichen Bezug der Gattung Pastorella/Pastorale. Die Ăhnlichkeit von Kanonmelodie und Fugenthema sieht man zwar, wenn man darauf hingewiesen wird, sie drĂ€ngt sich allerdings so wenig auf, daĂ man zweifeln mag, ob sie jemals jemand spontan gehört hat?
DaĂ bei Bach sich etwas nur der gelehrten Analyse erschlieĂt, kaum aber dem einfachen Zuhörer, wĂ€re natĂŒrlich nichts Neues. Peter Williams, in The Organ Music of J.S. Bach, erkennt als verbindendes Element aller vier SĂ€tze die Dudelsack-Borduntöne, die teilweise aber nur versteckt in Erscheinung trĂ€ten (âEach movement subtly incorporates a pastoral drone: the second with two held bass notes, the third a repeated bass, the fourth a fugue subject circumscribing a fugal pedal pointâ). In der Tat sehr subtil â oder doch schon Ăberinterpretation?
Es hat sich eingebĂŒrgert, den SchluĂsatz von BWV 590 in halsbrecherischem Tempo zu spielen â als befĂŒrchte man, den Eindruck zu erwecken, man könne das nicht so schnell spielen wie die Konkurrenz. Liegt es daran, daĂ man in dem StĂŒck eine Giga oder Gigue sehen will? Peter Williams weist wie bei der âAllemandeâ des zweiten Satzes sowohl auf Gemeinsamkeiten wie auf Unterschiede zur ânormalenâ Gigue hin. In meinen Ohren erdrĂŒcken aber die Unterschiede. Eine Gigue ist ein Tanz, dessen hĂŒpfendem Rhythmus man sich gar nicht entziehen kann. Was man auch damit anstellt, dieses StĂŒck hĂŒpft nicht, es hat vom Charakter her soviel mit einer Gigue zu tun wie mit einem Wiener Walzer. GroĂartig ist es doch!
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The fourth and last movement of the Pastorella BWV 590, a three-part fugue, seems to have often been copied separately and indeed it works well as a stand-alone piece. Those who appreciate a proper counterpoint will find a lot to like here, but this movement lacks the somewhat homely character of the preceding three. And this final movement is considerably longer than the others, so I decided to omit the second repeat. With the second part a full 38 bars long, as opposed to 24 for the first, AAB seemed more appropriate here than the somewhat long-winded AABB â even though the manuscripts all have it.
Commentators do see aspects linking this movement to those that precede it. Thus the subject of the fugue seems to be derived from the Christmas canon, âResonet in laudibusâ (âJosef, lieber Josef meinâ), which fits the seasonal assocations of the pastorella/pastorale. If it is pointed out you will see the similarity between the fugal subject and the canon â but I doubt if any listener has ever recognised it spontaneously!
Of course it is often the case that something in Bachâs music may be discoverable by learned analysis while being inaudible to the common listener. Peter Williams, in The Organ Music of J.S. Bach, says about BWV 590 that âEach movement subtly incorporates a pastoral drone: the second with two held bass notes, the third a repeated bass, the fourth a fugue subject circumscribing a fugal pedal pointâ. Subtle indeed!
It has become common practice to play the final movement of BWV 590 at breakneck speed â as if players were afraid the audience might think them unable to play as fast as the competition. Is this something to do with the idea that this piece is a giga or gigue, a title often bestowed on it by editors and commentators? As with the âallemandeâ of the second movement Peter Williams points out both common aspects and differences with a ânormalâ gigue. As far as I am concerned the differences are overwhelming. A gigue is a dance with a bouncy rhythm that it is impossible to resist. No matter what you do with this piece, it will never get bouncy. You might with equal justification claim it as a Viennese waltz. Yet whatever you call it is magnificent!
Selmar Bagge (1823-96): Nun danket alle Gott
Buchholz-Orgel Kronstadt (BraĆov)(1839)(English below) Selmar Bagge wurde als Sohn des Rektors der Lateinschule in Coburg geboren. Von Haus aus Cellist (wie S.W. Dehn), ging er 1837 ans Prager Konservatorium, wo er Cello, Klavier und Komposition studierte, und wurde 1840 erster Cellist am Stadttheater Lemberg (Lviv, Ukraine). Schon zwei Jahre spĂ€ter ging er aber nach Wien, wo er seine theoretische Ausbildung bei Hoforganist Simon Sechter vertiefte. 1851 wurde er Professer am Wiener Konservatorium, war die Stelle aber 1855 wieder los, nachdem er sich mit der Leitung der Anstalt ĂŒberworfen hatte. In der Folge brauchte er im Zuge seiner TĂ€tigkeit als Musikschriftsteller und Musikkritiker auf das Konservatorium keine RĂŒcksicht mehr zu nehmen.
In Wien hatte er sich zunehmend auf das Orgelspiel verlegt und war seit 1852 oder 53 Organist der Evangelischen Kirche im Stadtteil Gumpendorf (damals Apostelkirche genannt, seit 1923 Gustav-Adolf-Kirche). Die Orgel dort, im Video gezeigt und weitgehend unverĂ€ndert erhalten, erstellte zur Eröffnung der Kirche 1849 der aus Brandenburg (Paplitz, Kreis Teltow-FlĂ€ming) stammende Orgelbauer Carl Hesse. (Die KronstĂ€dter Buchholz-Orgel bot sich fĂŒr diese Einspielung auch deshalb an, weil auch sie das Werk eines âPreuĂenâ im Habsburgerland ist: Buchholz war der wichtigste Berliner Orgelbauer seiner Zeit.) Da das eingespielte Werk 1864 in der von Carl Geissler herausgegebenen Anthologie Die Orgel-Componisten des 19.ten Jahrhunderts erschien, stammt es offensichtlich aus Bagges Wiener Zeit, zumal die dort enthaltenen Werke vermutlich Jahre frĂŒher an Geissler geschickt worden waren (vgl hierzu die Videobeschreibung der oben verlinkten Aufnahme eines StĂŒcks von S.W. Dehn; oder siehe unter âDehnâ auf dieser Seite).
1859 wurde Bagge MitbegrĂŒnder und Herausgeber der ab Januar 1860 wöchentlich in Wien erscheinenden Deutschen Musik-Zeitung. Offenbar war er so sehr eins mit dem Blatt, daĂ es sein Erscheinen nach 156 Ausgaben einstellte, als er Anfang 1863 als Herausgeber der angesehenen Allgemeinen Musikalischen Zeitung nach Leipzig wechselte. Er blieb dort fĂŒnf Jahre, um dann als Dozent an die Allgemeine Musikschule in Basel zu gehen. Seit 1876 lehrte er dort ĂŒberdies an der UniversitĂ€t, die ihm 1880 die EhrendoktorwĂŒrde und 1894 den Professorentitel verlieh.
Selmar Bagge was the son of the principal of the lateinschule (municipal grammar school) in Coburg. His main instrument, at least in his early years, was the cello (as was also the case with S.W. Dehn). From 1837 Bagge studied that instrument as well as the piano and composition at the Prague conservatory before becoming first cellist of the stadttheater (municipal playhouse) at Lemberg (Lviv in present-day Ukraine). Already after two years however he left for Vienna, where he studied musical theory with court organist Simon Sechter. In 1851 he obtained a professorship at the Vienna conservatory, only to lose it again in 1855 after quarrelling with the authorities there. This left him free, as a music critic and writer on music, to say what he wanted.
In Vienna Bagge began to take an increased interest in the organ and from 1852 or 53 served as organist of the Lutheran church in the suburb of Gumpendorf. The organ there, shown in the video and preserved more or less unaltered, was provided for the opening of the church in 1849 by Carl Hesse, a native of the village of Paplitz south of Berlin. The Buchholz organ at BraĆov (Kronstadt) recommended itself for the present recording not least because this organ, too, is the work of a âPrussianâ in Habsburg territory (Buchholz was the principal Berlin organ builder of his time). The piece heard here is found in the collection Die Orgel-Componisten des 19.ten Jahrhunderts (The Organ Composers of the 19th Century) edited in 1864 by Carl Geissler. No doubt it dates from Baggeâs time in Vienna, especially as the works in that collection may have been sent to Geissler years earlier (see on this the video description of my recording of a piece by S.W. Dehn, the link is above; or see the entry for Dehn on this page).
In 1859 Bagge was a co-founder of the Vienna-based Deutsche Musik-Zeitung, a weekly devoted to music. This paper was evidently so much dependent on his activities as its editor that, after 156 issues, it ceased publication when in January 1863 Bagge took up a new post in Leipzig, as editor of the prestigious Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung. He spent five years in Leipzig before moving to Basel to teach at the Allgemeine Musikschule (General School of Music). Concurrently, from 1876, he also taught at Basel University, which awarded him an honorary doctorate in 1880 and the title professor in 1894.
Selmar Bagge (1823-96): Jesus meine Zuversicht
Buchholz-Orgel Kronstadt (BraĆov)(1839)(via Hauptwerk) Jesus Christ My Sure Defense | English below! Das hier eingespielte Werk stammt aus Bagges NachlaĂ in der UniversitĂ€tsbibliothek Basel und findet sich gedruckt in Hans Hirsbrunner (Hg.): Schweizer Orgelmusik Bd. 2 (Bern: MĂŒller & Schade [1994]). Ein Entstehungsdatum ist nicht angegeben.
Das StĂŒck, ein vierstimmiger Satz mit dem Cantus firmus im Tenor, ist auf zwei Systemen notiert und manualiter spielbar, weist aber keinen dahingehenden Vermerk auf (die beiden anderen Werke von Bagge in derselben Ausgabe, zwei Bearbeitungen von Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern, sind respektive auf zwei und drei Systemen notiert und tragen den Vermerk âmanualiterâ sowie âfĂŒr 2 Manuale und Pedalâ).
Spielt man das hier vorgestellte StĂŒck auf einem Manual, ist der Cantus firmus als zweitunterste Stimme kaum herauszuhören. Soll man ihn ins Pedal legen? Aber hĂ€tte Bagge das nicht kenntlich gemacht? Plausibler, zumindest interessanter finde ich die hier gebotene Lösung, nĂ€mlich die der rechten Hand zugewiesenen beiden Oberstimmen auf einem Ă€hnlich, aber schwĂ€cher registrierten zweiten Manual zu spielen. So ergibt sich ein irgendwie schwebender Zwischenzustand: der Cantus firmus ist nicht wirklich Solostimme, ohne doch im Stimmengeflecht zu verschwinden.
Ich habe den Liedtext der ersten Strophe hinzugefĂŒgt und das Fortschreiten des Cantus firmus darin markiert. Die Harmonien passen zum Text: der Aufgesang mit dem SchlĂŒsselwort âZuversichtâ ist mit ruhigen, versöhnlichen Harmonien gestaltet, der Abgesang mit seiner aufsteigenden Melodielinie illustriert die âTodesnacht-Gedankenâ und sich steigernde Unruhe, die sich in einer langen Coda Bahn bricht, ehe sie abklingt.
The piece heard here comes from the Bagge papers at Basel University and was edited by Hans Hirsbrunner in Schweizer Orgelmusik vol. 2 (Berne: MĂŒller & Schade [1994]). The date of composition is not indicated.
This is a four-part setting with the cantus firmus in the tenor. It is notated on two staves and can be played without pedals. There is, however, no hint as to how the piece is meant to be played, unlike two other works by Bagge in the same volume, both preludes on How Brightly Beams The Morning Star â one labelled âmanualiterâ, the other âfor 2 manuals and pedalsâ. Those two are notated on two and three staves respectively.
If the piece is played on a single manual, the cantus firmus in the second-lowest voice from the bottom is hard to discern. Should you play the cantus firmus with the pedals? But would Bagge not have indicated this? I find the solution presented here more plausible, or at any rate more interesting. Assigning the two upper voices to a separate manual with a similar but softer registration creates an interesting ambiguity, an in-between situation: the cantus firmus is not really a solo voice, yet at the same time it still stands out.
I have added the lyrics of the first stanza, with markers showing the progression of the cantus firmus. The harmonies fit the words. The first part with the key term âZuversichtâ is characterised by harmonies tending to set you at ease. (âZuversichtâ seems to have no exact English equivalent. âConfidenceâ comes close, but the German term has a strong undertone of reassurance and relief in the face of a threat: optimism that the outcome will be good even when this is not obvious. Catherine Winkworth reflects that in using â sure defenseâ in her first line in the place of âzuversichtâ.) The second part, with its rising melodic line, illustrates the anxiety with which thoughts of the ânight of deathâ are âfraughtâ, an anxiety that spills into a long coda before calming down.
Jonathan Battishill (1738-1801): Air & Moderato (Voluntary in B Flat) for Organ (Velesovo)
The two pieces recorded here must be the best-known, indeed probably the only widely known keyboard pieces by Jonathan Battishill, due to their inclusion in C.H. Trevorâs popular anthology Old English Organ Music for Manuals, first published in 1972. A deserving edition, since 18th-c. English organ music had largely sunk into oblivion. But also a very dubious and continually irritating edition, owing to the fact that Trevor saw nothing wrong with adapting the pieces he included without telling the reader. So it is here. These two works come from the Select Pieces published âfrom original M.S.S.â shortly after Battishillâs death by one John Page, Vicar Choral of St Paulâs Cathedral , and are available in a new edition by Greg Lewin. I did not have that edition when I recorded these pieces in 2013. Comparing Trevorâs versions to the originals was something of a shock. In the case of the Air Trevor changed the key from E Major to D Major, and the time signature from 6/2 to 3/4. In both pieces he altered the part writing, adding notes here, omitting them there, on occasion even altering chords. Battishill often notates the bass line in octaves, something of which Trevor evidently disapproved, since no trace of it remains. Every last ornament put in by Battishill (and there are many, many of them in the B Flat voluntary) Trevor struck out. Finally he had the bright idea to make the B Flat voluntary a duet between two manuals, a suggestion I followed in this recording. It really is a bright idea, and it sounds pretty (one has to admit that however dubious from the point of view of editorial integrity Trevorâs interventions are always musically intelligent, even if one still hesitates to call them improvements). But it was evidently not an idea held by Battishill, since manual changes tend to be clearly marked in his scores and none are indicated here. And once you put all the ornamentation back in, the case for alternating manuals somehow becomes a lot less compelling. (I intend to provide a new recording of both pieces soon.)
Jonathan Battishill (1738-1801): Voluntary in B Flat Major for Organ (Little Waldingfield)
Voluntary in B Flat Major: i. Bold ii. Fuga: Moderato â Organ of Little Waldingfield parish church, Suffolk. This video replaces an earlier recording of the same piece. I decided to make a new recording to take account of the very interesting suggestion made by someone who saw the original version that this might actually be an overture. This prompted me to rethink my interpretation of the piece, resulting in what I think is a better performance. I explain the thinking behind this new recording in what turned into an essay too long for a video description. You will find it below, with the âoverflowâ added as a comment.
In what follows I will discuss, first, the case for treating this as just another 18th-c. organ voluntary; second; the case against treating it as the transcription of an orchestral work; and finally, the reasons for thinking that this may, nevertheless, not be the full story.
I had originally interpreted this as an instance of the type of piece normally placed at the end of collections of voluntaries published by 18th-c. English organists: fugues with a slow introduction (the latter featuring the dotted rhythms of the âFrench overtureâ), with both movements to be played on the âFull Organâ (meaning the chorus on the Great â English organs of the period had no couplers â with or without the trumpet, and conceivably other reeds or the sesquialtera). In Battishillâs postumously published Select Pieces, unusually the fugue recorded here is placed at the beginning, and there is nothing else like it in the volume â which however is a bit different from the aforementioned collections in any case, for example in that along with pieces that must be primarily intended for the organ it contains others that may not be. Indeed one is actually labelled âIntroductory Lesson for the Pianoforteâ, and another is a hymn.
There are good reasons for treating this piece as just another instantiation of the pattern mentioned above (slow introductory movement plus fugue, specifically written for the organ). Unlike some other items in the Select Pieces no indications regarding registration are given in the score, but this may well be explained by the fact that in this kind of work the registration â Full Organ throughout â was dictated by convention. In labelling the work a âvoluntaryâ either Battishill himself or the editor of the Select Pieces â one John Page, Vicar Choral of St Paulâs Cathedral â clearly assigned it to the organ. And the introductory movement does feature the signature dotted rhythms â if only in the opening bars (heard twice because the movement is repeated).
At the same time there are also good reasons why this could not be the keyboard version of an overture. Keyboard reductions of music written for the stage were very popular. Handelâs semi-official publisher Walsh did a brisk business with volumes that eventually included keyboard reductions of each and every overture the great man had ever written. An illustration on this channel is the keyboard arrangement of Handelâs overture for âOrlandoâ, with the score shown in the video: https://youtu.be/b26lvRZ5SvI (note that the title page of this 18th-c. edition does assign this music to the organ also). We even know that Battishill played these keyboard overtures often, expounding on how they ought to be played, with printed scores annotated accordingly that have fascinated musicologists (G. Pont: âHandelâs Overtures for Harpsichord or Organâ, Early Music vol. 11, 1983). The demand for such scores clearly continued unabated throughout the 18th c. Thus on imslp.com you will find printed contemporary keyboard reductions for the overtures and favourite songs of stage works by Battishillâs exact contemporary Samuel Arnold (1740-1802), such as âTwo to Oneâ, âThe Battle of Hexhamâ, âThe Surrender of Calaisâ or âThe Children in the Woodâ, performed at the Theatre Royal in Londonâs Haymarket in 1784, 1789, 1791 and 1795 respectively.
But, unlike Handelâs, none of Dr Arnoldâs overtures feature fugal movements, which in orchestral music had long gone out of fashion. Boyce (whom Arnold succeeded as organist of the Chapel Royal and composer-in-ordinary to the king in 1783) had still used them in overtures, though not in stage works (unless you count his early oratorio, âSolomonâ, of 1743; other examples include the overtures to the Ode for His Majestyâs Birthday 1762 or to the Ode to the New Year 1772). Fugal movements also occur in several of the published concertos of both Charles Avison (op. 6, 1758) and William Bates (op. 2, 1762). The format encountered there is the same as in the work recorded here: a slow section with dotted rhythms is repeated and then followed by a fugue or fugato. (Battishillâs first movement does not really feel slow, and cannot be played to feel slow if its prominent semiquaver runs are not to drag, but it does have the dotted rhythms in the opening bars.)
Avison and Boyce (born in 1709 and 1711 respectively) belonged to an older generation. Bates likely did not â I will return to that in a moment. But none of these overtures or concertos consist only of two movements! Concertos of course had three or four, but so, invariably as far as I can tell, did 18th-c. overtures, including those by Handel or Boyce, or Arne (whether we are talking about Thomas Arne or his son Michael, Battishillâs colleague at Covent Garden), or Arnold. On the other hand, organ voluntaries featuring only a âFrench overtureâ introduction plus a fugue, and nothing more, were the norm, and continued to be produced by organists even in the second half of the 18th c. (there are a number of instances to be found on this channel).
Yet for all this the notion that Battishillâs voluntary might be a transcription remains attractive. As with the orchestral overtures (including that for Handelâs âOrlandoâ) and concertos referenced above so in this voluntary too the opening movement consists of a single section with a repeat â whereas in fugal organ voluntaries the introductory movements are mostly short, even perfunctory, and there is usually no repeat. Moreover both movements certainly have an orchestral feel to them. Indeed my registration now includes the Cremona on the Great, which to my ears works very well â and a period orchestra would normally have included one or two oboes. (For those not familiar with the âclassicalâ English organ: a âcremonaâ â derived from the French âcromhorneâ â is a relatively gentle reed stop, not unlike oboes.) In the video description of the original video I noted the very considerable technical difficulties, indeed awkwardness of the score, in particular regarding the fugue. The trill dominating the fugue theme and thus the entire movement is often very hard to execute: variously to be played with both hands at once, or (indeed and!) with other fingers of the same hand tied down to play one of the other parts (in measure 42 you are supposed to hold down gâ with your right thumb while playing the trill on aâ and gâ, stretching the hand over more than an octave), or matching the trill to a non-corresponding rhythm in the other hand (e.g. in the final bars). The more one thinks about it the less credible it appears that someone composing a work intended for the keyboard would write like this â whereas if it was originally written for an orchestra the issues noted above would not arise.
So perhaps Battishill did adapt (part of) an orchestral score for use as a voluntary. But if this is a keyboard reduction, what was the original? As far as work for the stage by Battishill is concerned, what little appeared in print did so more less all at the same time. In 1763 he collaborated with John Potter on a pantomime, âThe Rites of Hecateâ, performed at Drury Lane â but the overture is by Potter, whereas Battishill wrote the vocal scenes. In 1764 he collaborated with Michael Arne on an opera, âAlmenaâ, also at Drury Lane. Most of it is by Battishill, but the overture is by Arne. Also in 1764 he wrote a âcantataâ entitled âThe Shepherd and the Shepherdessâ. But no copy of this seems to be extant, and a cantata may well not have had an overture anyway. His other published output â songs, glees, and anthems for the church â did not involve orchestral writing.
As mentioned William Bates employed fugal second movements in at least two of his concertos op. 2 published in 1762 â and he may have been more or less the same age as Battishill. The year of his birth is unknown, but Michael Talbot (âWilliam Bates and his Concertos ⊠op. 2â, Eighteenth-Century Music vol. 14, 2017) makes the case that he was probably born around 1733. Bates and Battishill likely knew each other or indeed were friends: Battishill turns up in the subscription list of Batesâs op. 1 (Six Sonatas for Two Violins with a Thorough Bass), and a âMr. Batesâ and a âMr. Battishallâ [sic], bracketed together (literally!) as âorganists of Londonâ, appear in the subscription list of Richard Langdonâs Ten Songs and a Cantata of 1759 (available on imslp â that cantata at any rate does not have an overture or anything comparable). Talbot concludes that as engravers of subscription lists added names under the relevant first letters not in alphabetical order but in the order in which the subscriptions came in, Bates and Battishill likely subscribed together; that their designation as âorganistsâ without the name of a church suggests that neither yet held an office (indeed Battishill was only elected organist of St Clement Eastcheap in 1764); and that therefore Bates like Battishill was probably still young. Now Bates, according to Talbot, had something of a learned streak and a weakness for âantientâ music â but so, at least in his church music, did Battishill, according to Meta Cain Nelsonâs 1984 dissertation on his anthems, which also mostly date from the 1760s. If Bates could produce, and indeed publish, fugal movements for orchestra in 1762, there is no reason why Battishill should not have written similar music too â possibly now lost or at least forgotten if unlike Bates he did not publish it.
Or did Battishill adapt a work by someone else, assumed by the editor, Page, to be his by mistake? That is yet another possibility perhaps worth exploring. The style of this voluntary is unlike that of the other Select Pieces, which tend to be in a very melodious, lyrical, emphatically post-Baroque vein (see his well-known âAirâ and another piece in B Major popularised by C.H. Trevor: https://youtu.be/TjBfs0hU3Hk). It would, however, be inadvisable to deduce much from so limited a sample: many English composers of the period were highly eclectic and variable in their style. I have not actually seen the score of either âAlmenaâ or âHecateâ. And Bates between 1760 and his death in 1778 also produced numerous overtures!
Page himself may have been a shady and possibly rather unscrupulous figure. Betty Matthews (âThe Rise and Fall of Jonathan Battishillâ, Musical Times vol. 133, 1992) has published an astonishing letter written shortly after Battishillâs death by a lady, clearly not very educated, signing herself âAnn Battishillâ and claiming that John Page insinuated himself into Battishillâs home during his final illness, persuaded the dying man to make a will in his favour and after Battishillâs death made off with all his furniture (ââŠdid not Leave me A Bed to Lie onâ). The letter is addressed to Samuel Arnold, asking him for financial support. Matthews also reproduces the will (ââŠI [B.] revoke all former and other Wills by me at any time heretofore madeâŠAnd I do hereby appoint My good Friend John Page Vicar Choral of St. Pauls my Executor to dispose of all my Effects and to see me decently interredâŠâ).
Page evidently took more than the furniture, since he went on to publish several collections of Battishillâs works, including the Select Pieces for keyboard (the rest is for voices). There seems to be no other record that Battishill had remarried: after eloping to Ireland with a lover in 1775 his first wife had died the following year, so it would have been possible in theory; interestingly âAnn Battishillâ describes herself as âthe companion [why that unspecific term?] of Mr. Battishill for 26 yearsâ, which would mean that the relationship started in 1775. Matthews does not tell us what became of this. As for Page we may assume that he was responsible for arranging Battishillâs funeral and burial in St Paulâs Cathedral. Despite his long decay and his failure to achieve a career commensurate with his talents Battishillâs name clearly still had resonance. His death did cause a minor ripple (imslp.com has an Elegy to the Memory of Jonathan Battishill for SATB choir by Charles Wesley jun.), and the funeral in the cathedral, with the choir performing one of Battishillâs anthems: https://youtu.be/imakmUwfy0s (and another by Boyce) may have served to remind people of him. Which would have been grist to Pageâs mill: my point here is that Page had no interest in questioning if all of the pieces he intended to publish were in fact by Battishill himself.
Be that as it may: playing this piece as one would imagine it being performed by an orchestra, with the rhythmic discipline needed to keep players synchronised, and the zest needed to keep a paying audience happy, certainly helped me make better musical sense of it.
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Fuge fĂŒr Orgel D-Dur WoO 31 (Boezemkerk Bolnes)
(English below) Beethoven spielte als Jugendlicher in Bonn Orgel, an der Minoritenkirche und am kurkölnischen Hof. Mit 13 Jahren wurde er zum Zweiten Hoforganisten berufen. Von Vater und Lehrer, Hoforganist Neefe, beworben, war der junge Beethoven damals als Komponist bereits erfolgreich, hatte etliche Werke publiziert.
Nicht dieses: wohl bewuĂt âaltmodischâ, war es dazu vermutlich nie gedacht. Die barocke Anmutung des StĂŒcks kommt nicht von ungefĂ€hr. Neefe schrieb am 2. MĂ€rz 1783 ĂŒber Beethoven, dieser sei âein Knabe von 11 [recte: 12] Jahren, und von vielversprechendem Talent. Er spielt sehr fertig und mit Kraft das Clavier, lieĂt sehr gut vom BlattâŠEr spielt gröĂtentheils das wohltemperirte Clavier von Sebastian Bach, welches ihm Herr Neefe unter die HĂ€nde gegeben.â
Die Orgelfuge wurde erst in der Gesamtausgabe von 1888 gedruckt. Der Herausgeber E. Mandyczewski bemerkt dazu: âNach Nottebohmâs Vermuthung spielte Beethoven diese Fuge bei seiner âErprĂŒfungâ als Stellvertretender Hoforganist.â Letztere fand wohl im Februar 1784 statt.
1890 erschien in Wien ein Verzeichniss der musikalischen Autographe von Ludwig van Beethoven sowie einer Anzahl von alten, grossentheils vom Meister mit eigenhĂ€ndigen ZusĂ€tzen versehenen AbschriftenâŠ.neuerlich durchgesehen von Prof. Dr. Guido Adler. Hier heiĂt es zu WoO 31: âEine zweistimmige Fuge fĂŒr Orgel D-Dur. Revidirte Abschrift. Anzahl der BlĂ€tter: 2. Bemerkungen: âComponirt im Alter von 11 Jahrenâ. [Es] ist nicht ausgeschlossen, dass die ganze Fuge von Beethovens Hand ist. Vermuthlich von ihm zu einer besonderen Gelegenheit kaligraphisch [sic] ausgefĂŒhrt. Obige Bemerkung ist jedenfalls von Beethovens Hand.â
Ohnehin kann die Angabe, wie alt er zum Zeitpunkt der Entstehung der Fuge war, eigentlich nur von Beethoven selbst stammen. Dennoch ist sie wohl falsch. Beethoven schrieb 1810, lange Zeit habe er nicht gewuĂt, wie alt er sei, und ging offenbar bis an sein Lebensende beharrlich davon aus, 1772 geboren worden zu sein â obwohl man ihm wiederholt Abschriften des Eintrags seiner Taufe in das Kirchenbuch der Bonner Pfarrkirche St. Remigius zukommen lieĂ: sie fand am 17.12.1770 statt. (M. Solomon: âBeethovenâs Birthyearâ, in: ders., Beethoven Essays, 1988). Die Bermerkung ĂŒber sein Alter auf der Abschrift lĂ€Ăt darauf schlieĂen, daĂ Beethoven dem StĂŒck eine mindestens sentimentale WertschĂ€tzung bewahrte.
As a youth in Bonn Beethoven played the organ, at the Greyfriarsâ Church and at the court of the Elector-Archbishop of Cologne (who resided at Bonn). At the age of 13 Beethoven was appointed second organist at court. Owing to the PR activities of both his father and his teacher, court organist Neefe, Beethoven was already noted as a composer and had published several works.
Not this one: âold-fashionedâ as it is (and no doubt self-consciously so) it was probably never meant for publication. If it sounds rather Baroque that is no accident. On 2 March 1783 Neefe wrote about Beethoven that he was âa boy of 11 [in fact, 12] years of age, and with a very promising talent. He plays the harpsichord very deftly and energetically, is good at sight-readingâŠHe mostly plays the Well-Tempered Clavier by Sebastian Bach, which Herr Neefe has put into his hands.â
The organ fugue was printed only in the complete works of 1888. The editor, E. Mandyczewski, comments: âNottebohm hypothesises that Beethoven played this fugue for his examination as second court organist.â This apparently took place in February 1784. â In 1890 there appeared a publication entitled (in German) Catalogue of the musical autographs of Ludwig van Beethoven and of a number of old copies of his works mostly with additions in the masterâs handâŠ.newly revised by Prof. Dr. Guido Adler. Here we read about WoO 31: âAn organ fugue for two voices in D major. Corrected copy. Number of sheets: 2. Remarks: âComposed at the age of elevenâ. It is not impossible that the entire fugue is in Beethovenâs hand. Presumably he produced this calligraphic copy for some special event. Certainly the remark mentioned above is in Beethovenâs hand.â
In any case the information regarding Beethovenâs age when he wrote this fugue can really only have come from him. Even so it is probably wrong. Beethoven wrote in 1810 that for a long time he did not know his exact age, and throughout his life stubbornly clung to the belief that he had been born in 1772. This was despite the fact that he had been provided, more than once, with copies of the entry marking his baptism â on 17 December 1770 â in the register of the parish church of St Remigius at Bonn. (M. Solomon: âBeethovenâs Birthyearâ, in: id., Beethoven Essays, 1988) The remark about his age on the manuscript of this piece would seem to suggest that Beethoven continued to cherish it, at least for sentimental reasons.
John Bennett (1735 â 1784): Voluntary No. 1 in D Major (Little Waldingfield)
Organ of Little Waldingfield parish church, Suffolk â For biographical information about John Bennett please see the description of my video of his voluntary no. 5 [below].
Voluntary no. 1 is the best known work by Bennett. Until recently it was probably the only one played with any frequency at all. This is because C.H. Trevor included it in his well-known collection Old English Organ Music for Manuals. Unfortunately, Trevor was not above editing the pieces he selected, without giving any hint that he had done so. Bennettâs voluntary no. 1 may have fared worst by this treatment, since Trevor cut it by about half, omitting the written-out cadenza in the slow movement and all three interludes in the allegro. No doubt this movement does go on for a bit. Bennettâs voluntaries are the longest written by any English organist of the 18th c. But it is surely inadmissible to present a heavily abridged version of a musical composition as the original, without indicating the editorial intervention. And to my mind Bennett manages quite successfully to keep up the listenerâs interest. This is all the more remarkable as, of course, he keeps within the parameters of English organ music of the period, invariably polite and genteel: at its best, effective but subtle. Unlike 17th- or 18th-c. continental organ music it refrains from trying to dazzle or overwhelm.
A trumpet voluntary like this would sound best on a three-manual instrument, such as the one Bennett played at St Dionis (see the end of the video for information about this now-lost organ, including a photograph). The âechoâ would be the second trumpet on the swell, with the bass played on the choir. A two-manual organ like the one used here requires some adaptation. I could have used the swell Oboe for the echo, but since, like the Trumpet on the great, it is full-compass I then would have had nothing on which to play the left-hand accompaniment. (The gentle Cremona on the great is treble only â but I could not bring myself to use the Oboe, powerful as it is, instead of the 1809 Trumpet, which is glorious; and this would have required altering the bass line to prevent it from going above middle c.) In any case I have never been fully convinced by the use of reeds for the echo, even though it seems to have been the normal 18th-c. practice.
A trumpet would normally have been drawn along with the open diapason, or even both diapasons. Here I use it together with the âStop Diapasonâ (I love this spelling â wrong but convincingly economical, since the omitted letters cannot sound anyway) and the Dulciana, because I employ the combination of Stop Diapason and Dulciana for the first two of the interludes. With all three stops drawn together it is enough to push in the Trumpet for those interludes. Of course with the digital version of the organ used here it does not matter, since all registration changes can be preprogrammed and effected at the touch of a button, but I wanted a registration that would be feasible and even economical on the ârealâ organ too.
Bennett prescribes only the stopped diapason for the interludes, but I thought the Dulciana made the flutey tone no doubt intended here rounder and more pleasant on this organ. The final one of the three interludes, with the insistent âcuckooâ motive in the left hand, is a fine example of Bennettâs habit of extending mere âpassage workâ to provocative lengths. I do not quite understand how the registration he indicates (âStopâd Diapasonâ and âCornet in the Echo)â is supposed to work. There is no hint as to which parts of this section should be played as an echo. My solution is guesswork (but I admit that I do not feel obliged to follow instructions even by the composer himself to the letter). The Hart organ does come with a cornet, even though none appears on the stop labels. The great has a stop that is a cornet in the treble and a sesquialtera in the bass. Perhaps because Victorian organ builders shunned the cornet as unfashionable on this organ it was renamed âmixtureâ.
I state in the video that all stops used for this recording come from the original Georgian organ. And this is true, except that when the organ was rebuilt by William Denman in 1876 he regularised the compass. The great originally started at contra G, the swell only at tenor f. Now both start at C, the missing pipes aded by Denman. Unlike what is stated in the video the organ has 18 (not 20) stops (though two are divided).
John Bennett (1735 â 1784): Voluntary No. 5 in A Major (Little Waldingfield)
â[John] Bennet [sic], an eleve of Dr Pepusch, played the Tenor [viol], & occasionally, was a Chorus singer & figurante in processions. He knew the laws of Counterpoint very well, but had not a spark ofâŠâ The quotation comes from notes by Charles Burney (1726-1814) preserved in the British Museum. Burney is discussing the orchestra of the Drury Lane Theatre in London, of which Bennett was a member. Unfortunately the rest of the sentence was written on a different sheet of paper, now lost.
Having been offered the post of organist of St Margaretâs at Kingâs Lynn, along with the highest salary (ÂŁ100 p.a.) of any organist in the British Isles, Burney resigned as organist of St Dionis Backchurch in the City of London in 1752. St Dionis now needed a new organist. Seven candidates applied, four withdrew on learning that the vestry would not tolerate deputies (in 18th-c. England an organist would often hold more than one post, sub-contracting some of his duties to deputies evidently paid still less than even an official organist often was). Bennett got the post. It had paid Burney ÂŁ30 p.a., quite a lot by the standards of the time; I do not know what Bennett earned. He obviously supplemented his income by playing his viol, singing and apparently even dancing on stage, and as a music teacher (Mortimerâs Universal DirectorâŠto the Masters and Professors of the Liberal and Polite Arts and Sciences of 1763 lists one âBennet [sic], John, Tenor to the Queenâs Band, Organist and Teacher on the Harpsichord, Queens-square, Bloomsburyâ). In 1760 the vestry allowed Bennett to apply for a second post as organist (of St Johnâs Chapel, Bedford Row) âfor the better Support of himself and Familyâ. He was unsuccessful and apparently did not try again. He held the post at St Dionis until is death in 1784.
Bennett published a single item, the Ten Voluntaries from which the work recorded here is taken. 227 subscribers, among them Boyce, Handel, Stanley and the actor David Garrick (co-proprietor of the Drury Lane Theatre), ordered a total of 271 copies. Also on the list are James Nares and John Travers. The former is described as âMaster of the Children of the Chapel Royalâ, which he became in October 1757, while the latter, organist of the Chapel Royal, died in June 1758. As with all music printed in 18th-c. England the Ten Voluntaries have no publication date, but it can be inferred from this. (Much of this information comes from the preface, by Gwylim Beechey, to the collection of voluntaries by Bennett, Hine and Walond that he edited in 1969.)
Bennett was certainly gifted with more than a mastery of counterpoint. Of all the voluntaries written in 18th-c. England his are the longest: clearly these are concert pieces. His slow movements are sublime. As to the fast movements writing pieces of such length without losing momentum is a challenge. This is all the more true if, as Bennett does in the Allegro of No. 5, you limit your thematic material to just two or three short motives, all introduced early on.
This music will always sound best on an English organ of the pre-Victorian period. Sadly, not only are there few such instruments left, but none is as yet available in digitised form â with the exception of the organ heard here, made in 1809 by Joseph Hart, a Suffolk builder of some skill. When William Denman rebuilt it in 1876 he retained most of the original pipework. A tonal comparison of this organ with other Georgian instruments suggests that not much revoicing has taken place here. In Victorian England it was believed that the sound of metal pipes improved with age, so old pipes, when they were reused, were perhaps treated with a certain respect. There was some relabelling: the unfashionable cornet on the great was renamed a âmixtureâ, the swell âGedactâ was no doubt originally a âstop diapasonâ, the spelling used for the eponymous rank on the great. All the stops heard in this recording date from 1809 (except that the bottom octave-and-a-half on the swell is by Denman) â still close, tonally, to the kind of organ Bennett knew. (The organ in fact has only 18 stops, not 20 as stated in the video.)
Some information about the now-lost Harris organ at St Dionis, including a photograph, will be found at the end of the video.
John Bennett (1735-84): Larghetto in D (from Voluntary No. 1)
Instrument: James Davis chamber organ of c.1790 (via Hauptwerk) â â[John] Bennet [sic], an eleve of Dr Pepusch, played the Tenor [viol], & occasionally, was a Chorus singer & figurante in processions. He knew the laws of Counterpoint very well, but had not a spark ofâŠâ The quotation comes from notes by Charles Burney (1726-1814), the organist and writer on music, preserved in the British Museum. Burney is discussing the orchestra of the Drury Lane Theatre in London, of which Bennett was a member. Unfortunately the rest of the sentence was written on a different sheet of paper, now lost.
Forced to move to the countryside for health reasons, Burney resigned as organist of St Dionis Backchurch in the City of London in 1752. St Dionis now needed a new organist. Seven candidates applied, of whom four withdrew on learning that the vestry would not tolerate deputies (in 18th-c. England an organist would often hold more than one post, subcontracting some of his duties to deputies evidently paid still less than even the official organist often was). Bennett, aged 17, was elected unanimously. He obviously supplemented his income by playing his viol, singing and apparently even dancing on stage, and as a music teacher (Mortimerâs Universal DirectorâŠto the Masters and Professors of the Liberal and Polite Arts and Sciences of 1763 lists one âBennet [sic], John, Tenor to the Queenâs Band, Organist and Teacher on the Harpsichord, Queens-square, Bloomsburyâ). In 1760 the vestry allowed Bennett to apply for a second post as organist (of St Johnâs Chapel, Bedford Row) âfor the better Support of himself and Familyâ. He was unsuccessful and apparently did not try again. He held the post at St Dionis until is death in 1784. The organ he played there was a three-manual instrument by Renatus Harris of 1724, the last organ by this builder. The church was demolished in 1878. Parts of the instrument may survive in the organ built by Mander for the Great Hall of the Merchant Taylorsâ Company in the City of London in 1966.
For the publication of a volume with ten of his voluntaries (from which the piece heard here is taken) Bennett obtained the support of 227 subscribers. The list includes Boyce, Handel, Stanley and the actor David Garrick (co-proprietor of the Drury Lane Theatre). Also on the list are James Nares and John Travers. Nares is described in the list as âMaster of the Children of the Chapel Royalâ, which he became in October 1757, while Travers, organist of the Chapel Royal, died in June 1758. The date of publication can be inferred from this.
Voluntary No. 1, of which the piece heard here forms the first movement, was republished by C.H. Trevor in his well-known and notoriously unreliable anthology Old English Organ Music for Manuals. Trevor cut much of the second movement of this voluntary and removed the written-out cadenza from the first, along with all ornamentation â as usual without indicating it.
I have previously recorded this voluntary, as well as Voluntary No. 5, in their entirety on a different instrument, the late Georgian organ now at Little Waldingfield (here and here). Much of its original pipework survives, but that organ was altered in the Victorian period. The instrument heard here, a chamber organ by James Davis of c.1790, was not. It is now in the village church of Moorlinch in Somerset (there is no record of any previous ownership).
For a chamber organ it is quite an upscale model. Among its nine stops â or eleven: the stopped diapason and the sesquialtera/cornet are divided â it boasts a 16-foot double open diapason and a reed (hautboy). 16-foot tone would have been unusual even for a full-scale 18th-c. English church organ. The double open only goes down to G (with the bottom octave made up of resultants: 8’+10 2/3′), but then the 8-foot open diapason goes no lower either. Reed stops, though plentiful in 18th-c. English organ building, are unusual in a chamber organ (the inclusion of the hautboy is the more remarkable as the Moorlinch instrument also has a cornet). The provision of an octave-and-a half of pull-down pedals was cutting-edge for late-18th-c. England. There is a âshifting movementâ (or indeed two, according to the National Pipe Organ Register, which unfortunately provides no details), enabling the player to shut off the upperwork with a foot lever. Of course a slow movement of the kind heard here only requires the use of the open and stopped diapasons.
George Berg (? â 1775): Voluntary in g minor (Anloo)
Little is currently known of the life of George Berg. He very probably was of German origin. He was a friend and perhaps a pupil of Johann Christoph Pepusch, the doyen of the immigrant German musicians in London. In his will Pepusch bestowed a gold coin on Berg. Berg for his part composed a dirge on the death of Pepusch (1752). This latter work is apparently lost, as are three operas and an oratorio. We do have a number of other compositions by Berg that he published in his lifetime â concerti grossi, glees, works for harpsichord, and three volumes of organ voluntaries published at different times. The pieces heard here are from the first of these, printed in 1752. It is clear from manuscripts of the period that 18th-century English organists would routinely switch the slow introductions between voluntaries, transposing them as necessary. In accordance with this practice the two movements by Berg are taken from different voluntaries, and I have transposed the Adagio to g minor from its native d minor. Berg is apparently mentioned as organist of the City church of St Mary-at-Hill as early as the 1740s (different sources give different dates) and probably held the post until his death in 1775. He joined the Royal Society of Musicians in 1763. Berg was also interested in chemistry, especially the making of glass. For the last fifteen years of his life he kept a diary (written in English) of his scientific experiments â 672 are recorded in all; as are a few biographical details. Thus, we learn of a trip to Italy in the early 1760s, or of the death of Bergâs father in 1765. After Bergâs own death his extensive musical library and his collection of musical instruments were auctioned by Christieâs.
Rudolf Bibl (1832-1902): Eingang und Fuge ĂŒber Haydns Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser
Janke-Orgel der Stadtkirche BĂŒckeburg | Introduction and Fugue on Haydnâs God Preserve the Empâror Francis. (English below) Im September 1808 besucht der Schauspieler und Berliner Theaterdirektor August Wilhelm Iffland mit einem Begleiter in Wien Joseph Haydn wenige Monate vor dessen Tod. Haydn Ă€uĂert schlieĂlich: ââIch sollte Ihnen doch etwas vorspielen! Wollen Sie etwas von mir hören?â Es warâ â schreibt Iffland â âunser lebhafter Wunsch; aber wir wagten es nicht, ihn auszusprechen. âIch kann freilich wenig mehr.â Er sah sich nach dem Instrument um. âSie sollen meine letzte Komposition hören. Ich habe sie gesetzt, eben als vor drei Jahren die Französische Armee auf Wien vordrang.â Er stand auf, reichte dem Bedienten den Arm. Wir geleiteten ihn alle drei in unsern Armen zum Pianoforte. Er setzte sich dann nieder und sagte, âDas Lied heiĂt: Gott erhalte Franz, den Kaiser!â âŠ. Nach Endigung des Liedes blieb er noch eine Weile vor dem Instrumente stehen, legte beide HĂ€nde darauf und sagte mit dem Tone eines ehrwĂŒrdigen Patriarchen: âIch spiele dieses Lied an jedem Morgen, und oft habe ich Trost und Erhebung daraus genommen, in den Tagen der Unruhe. Ich kann auch nicht anders, ich muĂ es alle Tage einmal spielen. Mit ist herzlich wohl, wenn ich es spiele, und noch eine Weile nachher.’â (A.W. Iffland, Almanach fĂŒrs Theater 1811, S.203ff.)
In Verzeichnissen von Haydns Schaffen habe ich keine Bearbeitung von âGott erhalteâ von 1805 finden können. Seine spĂ€teste datierbare Komposition scheint das unvollendete Streichquartett Nr. 83 (op. 103) von 1803 zu sein; danach soll ihm sein geschwĂ€chter körperlicher Zustand das Komponieren unmöglich gemacht haben. Zuerst öffentlich aufgefĂŒhrt wurde âGott erhalteâ 1797 in allen Wiener Theatern zum Geburtstag des Besungenen (Franz II., spĂ€ter als Franz I. Kaiser von Ăsterreich), im Burgtheater in dessen Anwesenheit. Bereits aus dieser Zeit datiert ein eigenhĂ€ndiger Klaviersatz Haydns â von daher wĂ€re es nicht nötig gewesen, das Lied 1805 noch einmal einzurichten. Womöglich hat Iffland hier etwas miĂverstanden?
BerĂŒhmt ist Haydns eigene Bearbeitung fĂŒr Streichquartett (âKaiserquartettâ, Quartett Nr. 77 / op. 76 Nr. 3, zweiter Satz, ebenfalls von 1797). Die eingespielte Orgelfassung des Wiener Hoforganisten Rudolf Bibl ist jedoch ihrerseits von hoher QualitĂ€t. Nach einigen Einleitungstakten (âEingangâ) beginnt sie wie eine Fuge auf den Beginn der Melodie, wie es der Titel auch erwarten lĂ€Ăt; tatsĂ€chlich lĂ€Ăt Bibl dann aber wiederholt die Melodie zur GĂ€nze hören.
Zur Biographie von Rudolf Bibl verweise ich auf die Videobeschreibung meiner Einspielung seiner Pastorale op.64 Nr. 4: (s. weiter unten).
Charles Burney, englischer Organist, Komponist, Musikhistoriker und Freund Haydns, ĂŒbersetzte L.L. Haschkas Text der Hymne bereits 1798 ins Englische. Im Druck erschien seine Fassung unter dem Titel Hymn for the Emperor. Translated by Dr. Burney. Composed by Dr. Haydn â laut Lonsdales Burney-Biographie zuerst 1799; Google Books hat einen Nachdruck von 1815. Es fragt sich, ob die dort prĂ€sentierte Version fĂŒr Singstimmen (SATB) und Klavierbegleitung tatsĂ€chlich von Haydn selbst stammt (oder womöglich von Burney?). Die Zeilen âMay his worth the world illumine and bring back the sheep misledâ hat Burney frei erfunden â womöglich miĂfiel ihm, daĂ Haschkas Original als SchluĂzeilen noch einmal die Anfangszeilen bringt und diese SchluĂzeilen in der gesungenen Fassung auch noch wiederholt werden, insgesamt also dreimal zu hören sind. Haschka lĂ€Ăt auch die weiteren drei Strophen seines Textes mit den Anfangs- und SchluĂzeilen der ersten Strophe enden, wĂ€hrend die ersten beiden Zeilen dieser weiteren Strophen jeweils anders lauten. Burney ĂŒbersetzte alle vier Strophen. In der Druckfassung erscheinen auch hier die Anfangszeilen der ersten Strophe als SchluĂzeilen sowohl der ersten wie aller weiteren Strophen, nur daĂ diese SchluĂzeilen nicht wiederholt werden, sondern Burney ihnen stattdessen jeweils zwei eigene Zeilen vorschaltet. Hoffmann von Fallersleben, in seinem 1841 auf Haydns Melodie gedichteten âLied der Deutschenâ (âDeutschland, Deutschland ĂŒber allesâ), wiederholt in den ersten beiden Strophen deren Anfangszeilen als SchluĂzeilen, nicht aber in der dritten und letzten (âEinigkeit und Recht und Freiheit ⊠BlĂŒh im Glanze dieses GlĂŒckesâ).
In September 1808 the actor and director of the Berlin Nationaltheater August Wilhelm Iffland and a companion visited Joseph Haydn in Vienna, a few months before the composerâs death. At the end of the visit Haydn says: ââBut I ought to play something for you! Would you like to hear something from me?â It wasâ â Iffland writes â âour vivid desire; but we were not bold enough to utter it. âHowever, I am no longer capable of much. ⊠You shall hear my last composition. I wrote it three years ago, just as the French army was advancing towards Vienna.â He rose, held out his arm for the servant. The three of us supported him as he made his way to the piano-forte. He sat down and said: âThe song is called Gott erhalte Franz, den Kaiser!â âŠ. When he had finished, he remained standing for some time in front of the instrument, placed his hands on it, and said, in the tone of voice of a venerable patriarch: âI play this song every morning, and often I have taken comfort and elation from it in days of disquiet. And I cannot help it, I must play it once every day. I feel well when I play it, and even for some time afterward.’â (A.W. Iffland, Almanach fĂŒrs Theater 1811, p.203ff.)
I could not find any trace of an arrangement by Haydn of this tune from 1805. His last dateable composition appears to be the unfinished string quartet no. 83 (op. 103) of 1803; after that his weakened physical condition seems to have made it impossible for him to write any more music. âGott erhalteâ was first performed in public in 1797, when it was sung in every theatre in Vienna on the occasion of the birthday of the dedicatee (Francis II, later Francis I as Emperor of Austria). At the Burgtheater Francis himself was present. There is an autograph arrangement for piano by Haydn already from this period â hence there would have been no need to create another one in 1805. Perhaps Iffland misunderstood?
Haydn famously used the tune for the second movement of his string quartet no. 77 (op. 76 no. 3, âEmperorâ, also from 1797). But the organ arrangement heard here by court organist Rudolf Bibl is also of high quality. After a short introduction (âEingangâ) it starts like a fugue on the first two lines of the tune, which is what the title of the piece leads one to expect; but in fact Bibl repeatedly cites the tune in its entirety.
For biographical details on Bibl please see the video description of my recording of his Pastorale op.64 no. 4: (see further down).
Charles Burney, organist and composer, historian of music, and friend of Haydn, translated L.L. Haschkaâs lyrics as early as 1798. According to Lonsdaleâs biography of Burney this was printed in the following year under the title Hymn for the Emperor. Translated by Dr. Burney. Composed by Dr. Haydn (Google Books has this in an edition of 1815). I wonder whether the setting presented there â for SATB choir with piano accompaniment â is actually by Haydn himself (or is it by Burney?). The lines âMay his worth the world illumine and bring back the sheep misledâ were invented by Burney, who apparently disapproved of the fact that in Haschkaâs original the final two lines simply repeat the opening couplet. Since the last two lines are also repeated as per the tune they are thus heard three times. Haschkaâs poem has three further stanzas. These also end with the first two lines of the first stanza, but their opening lines are different. Burney translated all four stanzas. In his printed score the first couplet of the first stanza likewise appears as the last couplet of all four stanzas, but rather than this final couplet being repeated it is in each case preceded by two lines added by Burney. These help to emphasise the anti-revolutionary stance that, as Lonsdaleâs book illustrates, Burney pursued with missionary zeal (âbring back the sheep misledâ): Burney was aghast at the revolutionary upheaval in France.
Rudolf Bibl (1832-1902) Pastorale (Sechs CharakterstĂŒcke op. 64 Nr. 4)
Buchholz-Orgel der Schwarzen Kirche Kronstadt (BraĆov, RumĂ€nien; 1839) (English below) Rudolf Bibl war Organist an der Wiener Peterskirche, am Stefansdom und an der Hofburgkapelle. Dazu, wann genau er welche Position innehatte, finden sich widersprĂŒchliche Angaben. Die Stelle an der Peterskirche ĂŒbernahm Bibl offenbar 1850. Wikipedia deutsch und andere Seiten im Netz sagen, er sei 1859 Nachfolger seines Vaters als Organist des Stefansdoms geworden. Der Internetauftritt der Wiener Dommusik lĂ€Ăt Vater Andreas Bibl aber bis zu dessen Tod 1878 amtieren, nennt als Nachfolger Carl SchĂŒller und als Jahr seines Amtsantritts 1875 (waren demnach SchĂŒller und Bibl senior zunĂ€chst gleichzeitig tĂ€tig?), und fĂŒhrt Rudolf nur als âAdjunktenâ fĂŒr die Jahre 1866-75 (wĂŒrde passen: denkbarerweise genĂŒgte nun Bibl senior als UnterstĂŒtzung des neuen Hauptorganisten SchĂŒller; ein neuer Adjunkt wird erst ab 1881 genannt).
Auch das Ăsterreichische Musiklexikon macht Rudolf 1859 zum Organisten des Stefansdoms, meint aber, er sei von dort 1863 als Organist an die Hofburgkapelle gewechselt. Das paĂt wiederum zumindest dazu, daĂ letztere Stelle 1863 durch den RĂŒckzug Simon Sechters (Rudolfs anderer wichtiger Lehrer neben dem Vater) frei wurde. Wikipedia hingegen sagt, Bibl habe 1863 an der Hofburgkapelle nur eine Anwartschaft erhalten und die Stelle erst 1875 ĂŒbernommen (das wĂ€re das Jahr, wo der Dommusik-Seite zufolge Bibls TĂ€tigkeit am Stefansdom endete). Eine vollstĂ€ndige Liste der Hoforganisten zum Zweck eines Abgleichs konnte ich nicht finden. 1897 erhielt Bibl den Titel Hofkapellmeister und trat 1900 in den Ruhestand. Angaben ohne GewĂ€hr!
Die Sechs CharakterstĂŒcke op.64 erschienen offenbar 1890.
Rudolf Bibl was the organist of St Peterâs Church in Vienna, then served at the cathedral and at the imperial palace. Confusingly, sources differ quite a bit regarding which precise position he held when. He took over at St Peterâs in 1850; after that it gets complicated. The German Wikipedia and other sources on the web claim that he succeeded his father as organist of St Stephenâs Cathedral in 1859. But the website of the cathedral musical establishment lists Rudolfâs father Andreas as officiating until his death in 1878. According to this site his successor was Carl SchĂŒller, who obtained the position in 1875: does this mean SchĂŒller and Bibl senior held the post jointly? The cathedral music website only lists Rudolf Bibl as an âadjunktâ (assistant organist) for the years 1866 to 1875. This latter date would make sense if we assume that when SchĂŒller entered the scene an assistant was no longer necessary; indeed no new âadjunktâ seems to have been appointed until 1881.
The Ăsterreichisches Musiklexikon likewise makes Rudolf the cathedral organist from 1859, but according to it he went on to become court organist in 1863. Indeed that post fell vacant in 1863 owing to the withdrawal of Simon Sechter â Rudolfâs other important teacher besides his father. But according to Wikipedia Bibl in 1863 was only given an expectancy for the post at the palace chapel and did not take it up until 1875 â which happens to be the year when according to the cathedral music website he stopped playing at St Stephenâs. I could not find a complete list of holders of the court organistship to verify this. In 1897 Bibl was given the title of hofkapellmeister (kapellmeister to the imperial court); he stepped down in 1900.
The Six Characteristic Pieces op.64 appear to have been published in 1890.
John Blow (1649-1708): 3 Keyboard Pieces in C (Prelude â Fuga â Air)
If you look for the music recorded here in the Musica Britannica edition of Blowâs works, you will find it in the harpsichord volume, published in 1998. But of course in the Baroque era the distinction between harpsichord works and organ works is often almost impossible to make, especially in England, where no pedals were used in playing the organ. So any English keyboard piece was really playable on any keyboard instrument. The editor of the Musica Britannica edition, Robert Klakowich, explains that the âPreludeâ heard here went into the harpsichord volume because four out of five known manuscript copies label the piece âpreludeâ, and this, in the context of 17th-c. England, points to its use as a harpsichord piece. But a fifth manuscript actually calls the same piece âDr. Blowâs Voluntaryâ, indicating performance on the organ.
Klakowich questions the authenticity of the fugue because of the odd title, and on stylistic grounds. This piece apparently survives in a single manuscript, almost certainly written by London organist and composer John Barrett (c.1676-1719). Blowâs name was added in pencil (whether by Barrett or someone else I do not know, I do not have the Musica Britannica edition before me and RISM â RĂ©pertoire International des Sources Musicales, an online resource â mentions the pencil addition but does not say whether it is in a different hand). Indeed the piece is odd for a fugue: it is imitative and contrapuntal, yet I can think of no other example of a fugue that has repeats! On the other hand Barrett was no ignoramus and clearly for him calling the piece a fugue seemed entirely plausible. Unfortunately Klakowich does not elaborate on the stylistic aspects of the piece that make him doubt Blowâs authorship. To my ears it fits in well enough with Blowâs other keyboard music.
These three pieces were not intended by the composer to form a set, but I think they fit together nicely. I play them on the Sonus Paradisi sample set of the unaltered French Baroque organ at Rozay-en-Brie, which I have found to be excellent for English organ music of the High Baroque period on earlier occasions. English organ building in the latter part of the 17th century (after the 1660 Restoration) was heavily influenced by French models: one of the two main English builders of the period, Renatus Harris (c.1652-1724), was actually born in France, and his chief competitor, Bernard Smith (c.1630-1708), conformed to the fashion championed by Harris even though he himself was of German origin.
Paul Blumenthal (1843-1930): Stille Nacht â Es ist ein Ros â O du fröhliche (3 WeihnachtsstĂŒcke op.124)(Königslutter)
(English below) Paul Blumenthal wurde 1843 in Steinau (jetzt Ćcinawa) an der Oder geboren. Nach Studium in Berlin (an der Akademie der KĂŒnste und am Kgl. Institut fĂŒr Kirchenmusik) wurde er 1870 Organist der beiden Stadtkirchen in Frankfurt an der Oder, St. Marien und St. Nicolai. In beiden Kirchen standen ihm dreimanualige Instrumente zur VerfĂŒgung: an St. Marien die im Video gezeigte Buchholz-Orgel von 1834, an St. Nicolai â 1929 in Friedenskirche umbenannt â eine Orgel der Firma Sauer von 1881 (bis dahin tat noch eine zweimanualige Orgel von Ernst Julius Marx von 1777 ihren Dienst). 1899 wurde Blumenthal Kantor (möglicherweise nur an St. Marien). Neben Orgel- und Klaviermusik schrieb er Messen, Motetten, Psalmvertonungen, OuvertĂŒren und Sinfonien. Etliches davon erschien im Verlag seines Freundes Georg Bratfisch (siehe dazu hier). So auch das hier eingespielte op.124, und zwar vermutlich 1918. Erstaunliche Musik, entstanden in einer schwierigen Zeit des Umbruchs.
Stille Nacht auf diesem Kanal: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list⊠Es ist ein Ros auf diesem Kanal: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list⊠O du fröhliche auf diesem Kanal: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?listâŠ
Paul Blumenthal was born in 1843 at Steinau (now Ćcinawa) on the river Oder (Odra). He studied in Berlin at the Academy of Arts and at the Royal Institute for Church Music and in 1870 became organist of the two principal churches in Frankfurt-on-the-Oder, St Maryâs and St Nicholas. In both he played three-manual instruments â in St Maryâs the 1834 Buchholz organ shown in the video, in St Nicholas â renamed Friedenskirche in 1929 â an organ built in 1881 by Wilhelm Sauer of Frankfurt (this replaced a two-manual organ by Ernst Julius Marx of 1777). In 1899 Blumenthal became kantor (director of music)(possibly only of St Maryâs). Apart from works for organ and piano he wrote choral works like masses and motets as well as orchestral works including symphonies. Some of his output was published by his friend Georg Bratfisch (cf. here). Bratfisch also published the three pieces op.124 heard here, probably in 1918. Astonishing music, created in a difficult time full of upheavals.
Silent Night on this channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list⊠Low How A Rose on this channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list⊠O How Joyfully on this channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?listâŠ
Johann Heinrich Bödecker (1640-1713): Partita Herr Jesu Christ wahr Mensch und Gott (Anloo)
(English below) Choralpartita Herr Jesu Christ wahr Mensch und Gott Das eingespielte StĂŒck findet sich in einem in Berlin aufbewahrten Konvolut mit Orgelwerken in Deutscher Orgeltabulatur. Die Ăbertragung in Notenschrift, von Auke Jongbloed, ist hier abrufbar. Das StĂŒck trĂ€gt den Verfasservermerk âH. Bodeckerâ. Der Fundort Berlin und der ins 17. Jahrhundert weisende Stil legen nahe, daĂ es sich um ein Werk von Johann Heinrich Bödecker handelt. 1640 oder 41 in Bremen geboren (er gibt 1707 an, im 67. Lebensjahr zu stehen), trat Bödecker 1667 als âCammer Musicantâ und Organist in die Dienste Friedrich Wilhelms III. von Brandenburg. Als der Rat der Stadt Bremen 1674 Bödecker zum Organisten der Liebfrauenkirche ernannte und den KurfĂŒrsten ersuchte, Bödecker freizugeben, lehnte dieser ab und ernannte B. mit verbesserter Bezahlung zum Adjunkten des Berliner Domorganisten Wilhelm Karges mit dem Recht der Nachfolge, die B. spĂ€testens 1699 antrat. 1708 trat Bödecker krankheitshalber zurĂŒck und verbrachte die nĂ€chsten Jahre anscheinend bettlĂ€gerig, ehe er 1713 starb.
Orgelwerke oder sonstige Kompositionen von Bödecker scheinen bislang nicht bekannt gewesen zu sein. Der Name erscheint in den Quellen in den beiden Formen Bödecker und Bodecker. In einer von dem Intendanten der königlichen Hofkapelle, Johann Wilhelm von Tettau, erstellten âInterims-Lista derer zur Königl. PreuĂ. Cammer- und Capell-Music, praesentirter Persohnen, Von ao. 1708 d. 2 Januarij, worĂŒber Königliche allergnĂ€digste resolution erwartet wirdtâ erscheint in der Rubrik âAn Fagots vnd hautboistenâ als einer von drei âEmeritiâ ebenfalls ein âH. Bodeckerâ, mit dem Besoldungsvermerk â300â (abgedruckt in Curt Sachs, Musik und Oper am kurbrandenburgischen Hof, 1910). Bei seiner Einstellung 1667 erhielt B. zunĂ€chst 200 Reichstaler. Sein Gehalt stieg 1674 auf 250 Rt., belief sich 1679 auf 300, 1705 auf 352 Rt. (hinzu kam ein âDeputatâ an diversen Naturalien). Carl von Ledebur (König Friedrich I., 1878, S. 167) zitiert aus einer âalten Handschrift damaliger Zeitâ den âEtat der K. Kammermusikantenâ fĂŒr 1701: die Liste beginnt âJohann Heinrich Bodecker [sic] 332 Thlr., Wilhelm Karges 300 Thlr.â usw. Danach wĂŒrden 300 Taler Gehalt fĂŒr einen âemeritiertenâ Domorganisten passen â wobei das frĂŒhe Datum der âInterims-Listaâ, 2. Januar 1708, etwas irritiert, weil es sich nicht ganz stimmig zu der Angabe (bei Sachs a.a.O.) fĂŒgt, B. habe sein Amt als Organist â1708â (also wohl eher nicht schon am 1. Januar) abgegeben. Etwas störend ist auch, daĂ Sachs zufolge Karges bereits am 27.11.1699 verstarb und sein Gehalt anteilig zwei anderen Musikern zugewiesen wurde. Ledebur ĂŒbernahm das zitierte Dokument offenbar aus L. Schneider, Geschichte der Oper und des Königlichen Opernhauses in Berlin (1852). Sachs (a.a.O. S. 10) bezieht sich auf dieselbe Quelle, wenn er kritisiert, die Datierung auf 1701 mĂŒsse falsch sein, da nicht nur Karges, sondern auch andere in dem Dokument genannte Personen 1701 bereits verstorben waren. Sachs datiert das Dokument zwischen 1687 und 1691. Schwerlich können indes die 300 Taler Kargesâ âaktivesâ Gehalt darstellen, das laut Sachs bereits 1683 400 Taler betrug, und auch die Nennung an zweiter Stelle nach Bödecker zeigt an, daĂ er sein altes Amt nicht mehr innehatte. Sachs ging in seinem Buch offenbar selbst davon aus, daĂ der âH. Bodeckerâ der âInterims-Listaâ mit dem Organisten identisch ist, denn im Register findet sich unter âBodeckerâ der Verweis âs. Bödeckerâ und dort wieder die Angabe auch der fraglichen Stelle. Demnach spielte also B., neben der Orgel, bei Hof Fagott oder Oboe.
Die Berliner Domorgel, wie Bödecker sie kannte (sie wurde erst 1718 durch ein neues, gröĂeres Instrument ersetzt), war um 1557 von dem Antwerpener Orgelbauer Anthonius Mors erstellt worden und hatte vermutlich rund 30 Register auf zwei Manualen und ans Hauptwerk angehĂ€ngtem Pedal. Trifft dies zu, war das Instrument dem fĂŒr diese Aufnahme verwendeten in der Magnuskerk in Anloo nicht unĂ€hnlich. Die Orgel in Anloo wurde zwar erst zwischen 1717 und 1719 von den beiden Schnitger-SchĂŒlern Garrels und Radeker gebaut, orientiert sich klanglich aber eigentĂŒmlicherweise eher an Ă€lteren niederlĂ€ndischen Vorbildern als an Instrumenten von Schnitger. Seit 2000 verfĂŒgt die Anlooer Orgel ĂŒber ein Pedalwerk von vier Registern, dessen Disposition auf einen unausgefĂŒhrten Entwurf Johann Radekers fĂŒr die Grote Kerk in Meppel zurĂŒckgeht. Dieses Pedalwerk ist in der vorliegenden Aufnahme aber nicht zu hören, ich arbeite mit den historischen Registern und verwende das Pedal nur angehĂ€ngt.
The piece recorded here is in a bundle of organ works notated in German organ tablature held by the Staatsbibliothek Berlin. It has been transcribed by Auke Jongbloed. In the manuscript the author of the piece is given as âH. Bodeckerâ. The circumstance that the manuscript is in Berlin in combination with the style of the piece, which points to the 17th c., suggest that the composer is Johann Heinrich Bödecker. Born in Bremen in 1640 or 41 (he states in 1707 to be in his 67th year), in 1667 he joined the orchestra of Frederic William III, elector of Brandenburg, as âCammer Musicantâ (meaning he played some orchestral instrument) and organist. In 1674 the Bremen city council appointed him organist of the Liebfrauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) and asked the elector to let Bödecker go. The elector declined and appointed B. assistant organist of Berlin cathedral, with increased pay and the right to succeed the incumbent, Wilhelm Karges; B. did finally succeed Karges in 1699 at the latest. In 1708 Bödecker stepped down because of some illness. He apparently spent the next few years in bed before dying in 1713.
No compositions by Bödecker, whether for organ or some other instrument, seem to have been known so far. In the sources the name appears variously as Bödecker or Bodecker. In a list of court musicians dated 2 January 1708 and compiled by Johann Wilhelm von Tettau, in charge of the court orchestra under king Frederic I, a person named âH. Bodeckerâ appears as one of three âretiredâ (emeriti) bassoonists/oboists, with the figure â300â given as his salary (printed in Curt Sachs, Musik und Oper am kurbrandenburgischen Hof, 1910). When Bodecker was first hired in 1667 his salary was 200 reichstalers, rising to 250 in 1674, 300 in 1679 and 352 in 1705; additionally he received payment in kind in the form of foodstuffs. Carl von Ledebur (König Friedrich I., 1878, p.167) quotes from an âold contemporary manuscriptâ the budget for the court musicians for 1701: the list begins âJohann Heinrich Bodecker [sic] 332 Thlr., Wilhelm Karges 300 Thlr.â etc. According to this 300 talers would seem to have been the normal payment for a retired cathedral organist. What is a little confusing is the early date of Tettauâs list â 2 January 1708, which does not quite fit the statement (by Sachs loc.cit.) that B. gave up his post as cathedral organist in 1708 â unless he did so on 1 January! Slightly irritating, too, is the information provided by Sachs that Karges died on 27 November 1699 and that his salary was divided up between two other musicians. Clearly Ledebur found the document he cites in L. Schneider, Geschichte der Oper und des Königlichen Opernhauses in Berlin (1852). Sachs (p.10) evidently refers to the same document when he points out that not only Karges but other people named in it were already dead in 1701, and that therefore the date given by Schneider must be wrong. Sachs dates the document to between 1687 and 1691. However, both the fact that Karges is named in second position after Bödecker, and that his salary is less, suggest that he too, had already resigned, as Bödecker was to do later (Sachs states that in 1683 Karges earned 400 talers). Sachs clearly assumed that the âH. Bodeckerâ of Tettauâs list was identical with the cathedral organist, since in the index of his book the entry for âBodeckerâ reads âsee Bödeckerâ, and that entry gives the page with Tettauâs list. So Bödecker also played the bassoon and/or oboe at court.
The organ in Berlin cathedral as known to Bödecker (replaced by a larger instrument only in 1718) had been installed in about 1557 by the Antwerp builder Anthonius Mors. It probably had about 30 stops, two manuals, and pull-down pedals sharing the stops of the Great. If so it was rather similar to the organ of the Magnuskerk at Anloo heard in this recording. This was only built between 1717 and 1719 by R. Garrels and J. Radeker, but although both had trained with Arp Schnitger the Anloo organ seems, oddly enough, in its tonal design to echo older traditions of organ building in the Low Countries. In 2000 the instrument was equipped with an independent pedal division of four stops, modelled on an unexecuted design by Radeker for the Grote Kerk at Meppel. However, that pedal division is not heard in this recording. I have only used the historic stops, which means that the pedal part is played using the stops of the Great.
Heinrich Börner (1818-68): Jesus meine Zuversicht (Velesovo)
(English below) Das eingespielte Choralvorspiel findet sich â wie die kĂŒrzlich hochgeladenen von RĂŒttinger und Marpurg â in Organisten uit de 18e en 19e eeuw Band 1. Der Herausgeber, W. van Twillert, wuĂte seinerzeit (1984) ĂŒber Börner auch nur, was im Inhaltsverzeichnis seiner Quelle steht: Lehrer und Organist in Treuenbrietzen, geboren 1818, jedoch nicht das Todesdatum. Die Quelle ist ein 1864 erschienener Sammelband mit Werken zeitgenössischer Organisten, herausgegeben von dem Organisten Carl Geissler.
Treuenbrietzen hat zwei Stadtkirchen, St. Marien und St. Nikolai, die zu Börners Zeit beide zweimanualige Orgeln des Berliner Orgelbauers Joachim Wagner (1690-1749) besaĂen; heute existiert nur noch das Instrument in St. Marien. Da Börner offenbar die klassische Verbindung von Schullehrer und Organist verkörperte und das SchulgebĂ€ude in Treuenbrietzen gleich neben der Marienkirche steht, gehe ich davon aus, daĂ er dort die Orgel gespielt hat.
Neben âNun danket alle Gottâ ist âJesus meine Zuversichtâ vielleicht der altpreuĂische Choral schlechthin â die Melodie beider Lieder geht auf den Kantor der Berliner Nikolaikirche Johann CrĂŒger (1598-1662) zurĂŒck. Textdichter von âJesus meine Zuversichtâ war wohl Otto von Schwerin (1616-79), spĂ€ter Erster Minister des âGroĂen KurfĂŒrstenâ Friedrich Wilhelm III. von Brandenburg. âJesus meine Zuversichtâ war ein Lieblingslied der Königin Luise und wurde bei den Feierlichkeiten zu ihrer Beisetzung 1810 gesungen. SpĂ€testens damit etablierte sich das Lied als fester Bestandteil von Trauerfeiern, angefangen bei all denjenigen des Hauses Hohenzollern; es erklang aber auch etwa bei dem Quasi-StaatsbegrĂ€bnis Felix Mendelssohns (der selbst eine Motette ĂŒber den Choral verfaĂt hat) 1847. 1848 verlangten die Berliner RevolutionĂ€re von König Friedrich Wilhelm IV. eine Ehrenbezeigung fĂŒr die âMĂ€rzgefallenenâ. Als der König auf einen Balkon des Schlosses trat und seine Kopfbedeckung abnahm, stimmte der auf dem SchloĂplatz pausierende Trauerzug spontan den Choral âJesus meine Zuversichtâ an, was Kommentatoren wie Freiligrath oder Engels zu Spott veranlaĂte. Die PopularitĂ€t des Liedes erstreckte sich auf alle gesellschaftlichen Kreise. DafĂŒr gibt es viele Zeugnisse; zu den bekanntesten zĂ€hlt Fontanes Ballade ĂŒber den âHerrn von Ribbeck auf Ribbeck im Havellandâ (1889), ihrerseits eine VerklĂ€rung des âaltenâ, âmĂ€rkischenâ PreuĂen vor der ReichsgrĂŒndung 1871, dem Fontanes Nostalgie galt: âDa sagte von Ribbeck: »Ich scheide nun ab. / Legt mir eine Birne mit ins Grab.« / Und drei Tage drauf, aus dem Doppeldachhaus, / Trugen von Ribbeck sie hinaus. / Alle Bauern und BĂŒdner mit Feiergesicht / Sangen »Jesus meine Zuversicht«.â
Vor diesem Hintergrund hat die schlichte, aber gediegene Orgelbearbeitung des Liedes durch einen ansonsten unbekannten mĂ€rkischen Schullehrer, dessen Todestag sich aktuell (im April 2018) zum 150. Mal jĂ€hrt, etwas BerĂŒhrendes. Das SchulgebĂ€ude, wo er unterrichtet haben muĂ, ist noch da. Bei einer Restaurierung 1959-65 wurde die barocke Neugestaltung der Marienkirche weitgehend rĂŒckgĂ€ngig gemacht (dabei offenbar auch die Korbbogenfenster im Obergaden, die auf der antiken Postkarte noch zu sehen sind, auf die mutmaĂliche Originalform zurĂŒckgefĂŒhrt). Von der barocken Inneneinrichtung sind aber ĂŒbrig Altar und Kanzel (beide aus den 1730er Jahren) und die Wagner-Orgel von 1741. Die fĂŒr die Einspielung verwendete Orgel der Klosterkirche Michelstetten in Slowenien orientiert sich (in nach meinem DafĂŒrhalten ĂŒberaus gelungener Weise) an sĂ€chsisch-thĂŒringischen Vorbildern des 18. Jahrhunderts. Also an einer Orgelbautradition, die fĂŒr den Silbermann-SchĂŒler Joachim Wagner ebenso maĂgeblich war und mithin fĂŒr dieses StĂŒck angemessen â denn zwar ist der Stil von Börners Choralvorspiel romantisch, doch wurde es eben offenbar nicht fĂŒr eine romantische, sondern fĂŒr eine Wagner-Orgel komponiert.
Like those by Marpurg and RĂŒttinger uploaded recently, the chorale prelude recorded here is found in Organisten uit de 18e en 19e eeuw vol. 1. The editor, W. van Twillert, at the time of publication (1984) only knew about Börner what the table of contents of his source told him: teacher and organist in Treuenbrietzen, born 1818 â but not when he died. The source is a collection of contemporary works for organ edited in 1864 by the organist Carl Geissler.
Treuenbrietzen has two great churches: St. Marien and St. Nikolai. In Börnerâs day both possessed two-manual organs by the Berlin builder Joachim Wagner (1690-1749); today only the one in St Maryâs is extant. Since Börner evidently represented the classic combination of school teacher and organist, and since the school building in Treuenbrietzen is situated right next to St Maryâs Church, I assume that it is in that church that he played the organ.
Besides âNun danket alle Gottâ (Now Thank We All Our God) âJesus meine Zuversichtâ is perhaps the âOld Prussianâ chorale â the tunes of both hymns go back to Johann CrĂŒger (1598-1662), director of music at Berlinâs Nikolaikirche. The words of âJesus meine Zuversichtâ are probably by Otto von Schwerin (1616-79), later First Minister of the âGreat Electorâ Frederic William III of Brandenburg. âJesus meine Zuversichtâ was a favourite of the legendary Queen Luise (deeply loved by the people and elevated to quasi-saintly status after her early death) and was sung at her funeral in 1810. This started, or at least consolidated, the subsequent fashion to sing this hymn at burials, including all those of the Hohenzollern dynasty; but it was also performed for example at the quasi-state funeral of Felix Mendelssohn (who also wrote a motet based on the hymn) in 1847. The 1848 revolutionaries in Berlin demanded that King Frederic William IV should pay homage to the âFallen of Marchâ (those killed in the fighting against government troops trying to clear the barricades). When the king stepped onto a balcony of the royal palace and bared his head, the crowd in the funeral procession halted in front of the palace spontaneously burst into âJesus meine Zuversichtâ, earning the derision of commentators like Friedrich Engels. The popularity of the hymn extended to all sections of society. There are many testimonies of this. Among the best known is Theodor Fontaneâs 1889 ballad about the modest, benevolent squire of Ribbeck (a village and estate west of Berlin), itself an expression of Fontaneâs nostalgia for the âoldâ Prussia (prior to the foundation of the new German Empire in 1871): ââI depart now this lifeâ von Ribbeck said. / I wish that a pear in my grave be laid.â / And after three days, from this mansard-roofed hall, / Squire von Ribbeck was carried out, âneath a pall. / All farmers and cottagers, solemn-faced, / Sang: âJesus, in Thee my trust is placedâ [Jesus meine Zuversicht]â. (This excellent translation of the poem is found in many places on the internet, but nowhere can I find information about the identity of the translator.)
Against this background the unostentatious but beautiful prelude by an otherwise unknown Brandenburg school teacher, who died exactly 150 years ago (in late April 1868), has a certain poignancy. The school building where he must have taught is still there. In the course of a restoration carried out between 1959 and 1965 the Baroque remodelling of the interior of St Maryâs Church was essentially undone (note the enlarged clerestory windows in the old postcard of the church, now restored to their presumptive original shape). But the altar and pulpit (both dating from the 1730s) and the 1741 Wagner organ remain. The Velesovo organ used for this recording is modelled (in, to my mind, highly successful fashion) on 18th-century Saxon and Thuringian exemplars. It thus represents a tradition of organ building to which Joachim Wagner, a pupil of Gottfried Silbermann, also belongs, and therefore is perfectly fitting for this piece: a romantic composition not, however, written for a Romantic organ but for a Wagner instrument.
Rosalie Bonighton (1946-2011): Wachet auf ruft uns die Stimme (Wake, Awake, For Night Is Flying)
Born in Ballarat, Rosalie Bonighton studied music in Melbourne (University of Melbourne and La Trobe University). She married one of her teachers, composer Ian Bonighton (1942-75). In 1974 the couple moved to England, but after her husbandâs death in a road accident in the following year Rosalie returned to Ballarat, where she became organist of St Johnâs Anglican Church and of Ballarat and Queenâs Anglican Grammar School. She also worked as a piano accompanist. As composer she was the recipient of numerous commissions and awards. She died of cancer in her hometown on 21 December 2011, aged 65. The work recorded here is in Hymn Preludes for the Church Year. Book 1: Feasts & Festivals, published by Kevin Mayhew.
Kate Boundy (1865-1913): Three Pieces for Organ (Haverhill)
To mark the centenary of the death of this unknown composer, here are her complete published organ works (as far as they are known to me): Even Song â Andante patetico â Andante grazioso, played on a digital copy of the 1901 Binns organ at the Old Independent Church, Haverhill, Suffolk (www.npor.org.uk/NPORView.html?RI=H00676). For some notes on Kate Boundyâs life please see the end of the video. I would be grateful for any further details, not least regarding the circumstances of her untimely death. [Update 2024: please see further down. Since I uploaded this video ten years ago Ms Boundy has gained a small amount of notoriety and even now has a Wikipedia entry.]
Information kindly provided by Kerr Jamieson:
âRegarding the mystery of Kate Boundyâs premature death, Iâve found (through the British Newspaper Archive) a reference to an obituary in the âWestern Timesâ of Monday 11th August 1913. I havenât seen the original scan (subscription required!) but the OCR extract is as follows: â
âTHE LATE MISS BOUNDY. Funeral at the Higher Cemetery,
Exeter. General sympathy is felt for Mr. G.L. Boundy, of
Southcroft, Heavitree-road Exeter, and his family, owing to the death of his elder daughter, Miss Kate Boundy. The sad event took place at her brotherâs house at Abergavenny, [on?] Thursday. [The?] deceased, who had been an invalid for several years, was a gifted musician, and Associate of the Royal Academy of Music. She was a clever pianiste, and had made a reputation as a composer, several of her works having had a wide circulation. btojMA[Latterly?] however she had been incapacitated by ill health, and was unable to get about outdoors except in a bath-chair. A few days ago she journeyed to Wales on a visit to her brother, and [in?] the hope of meeting some of nei[her?] Wends[friends?] at the Welsh Eistedfodd. While at her brotherâs, however, she became seriously ill, and passed away on Thursday.â
Regarding your note on tempi, I find that in âThe Village Organistâ there are considerable discrepancies between the tempo markings and the estimated timings, even taking into account the fact that the durations quoted are apparently all rounded to the nearest half minute, which can give a high percentage of error with durations as short as one or two minutes. I hope you might be interested in my following remarks on the subject.
In the âAndante graziosoâ I reckon a 2â00 performance would require a tempo of 52 dotted crotchets per minute, which does seem quite appropriate, whereas the suggested tempo of 66 would take only about 1â35, which, as you say, changes the character of the piece quite dramatically! As for the unhelpful instruction âIn flowing timeâ, how can time do anything other than flow (metaphorically, at least)? Incidentally, I notice that you say that this piece was published in 1894: my copy says âCopyright, 1897â. Do you have some information which contradicts that? [No â the correct date is in fact 1897!]
Returning to the tempo problems⊠âEven Songâ would take nearer 2â45 than 2â00 if it were played at a tempo of 104 quavers per minute. But why would anyone wish to count it in quaver beats at all? 2â00 can be achieved comfortably (as in your own performance) with about 60 dotted crotchets per minute. As for âMolto moderatoâ, that seems to me to be a contradiction in terms! Again, my date differs from yours: I have âCopyright, 1898â (not 1897). [Again, 1898 is in fact the correct date.]
In the âAndante pateticoâ I reckon the suggested tempo of 40 minims per minute would give a duration of 2â12 (almost exactly that of your own performance) rather than the 1â30 stated. No problem with the date here!â
Many thanks Kerr!
Carl Bratfisch (1829-1901): 12 PrĂ€ludien fĂŒr Orgel Nr. 2 & 3 (Königslutter)
(English below) Wenn man Carl Bratfisch ĂŒberhaupt kennt, dann als Komponisten des âSteinmetz-Marschesâ von 1867. Er gehört zum Repertoire der heutigen Bundeswehr, doch es gibt neben Vorkriegs-Aufnahmen auch solche aus der alten DDR, ja sogar des Musikkorps der Flottenbasis Leningrad (wobei die Sowjetkapelle wohl Repertoire schon der Zarenzeit weiterpflegte).
Ich stieĂ auf den âSteinmetz-Marschâ im Zuge einer Recherche zu dem Organisten Paul Blumenthal (1843-1930), der in Zukunft auf diesem Kanal eine Rolle spielen soll, und dessen Werke teils bei dem Musikverlag Georg Bratfisch in Frankfurt an der Oder erschienen. Ein Aufsatz ĂŒber die Familie Bratfisch (in: Frankfurter Jahrbuch 2005) lieferte das gesuchte Foto von Blumenthal, aber auch den Hinweis auf Carl Bratfisch und seinen âSteinmetz-Marschâ. Ich rief eine Einspielung auf: schmissig mit melancholischem Einschlag, der Komponist in der Verwendung des Zeitstils auffallend kompetent. Sowohl der angesprochene Aufsatz wie der Wikipedia-Eintrag zu Bratfisch erwĂ€hnen auch Orgelwerke. Aha?
Carl Bratfisch war wohl selbst Sohn eines MilitĂ€rmusikers: der Vater, Carl Gottlob B., geboren 1807 in Ziegelroda, heiratet am 15.3.1829 in der Berliner Garnisonkirche und wird bei dieser Gelegenheit als âHautboistâ (Oboist) bezeichnet, die Eintragung der Taufe seines einzigen Sohnes erfolgt am 18.12.1829 in das Taufregister des âKgl. Kaiser Franz Grenadier-Regimentes in Berlinâ.
Die Familie zog spĂ€ter nach Neudamm (DÄbno, PL), bevor sich Carl Gottlob nach Riga absetzte, wo er âKaiserlich Russischer Kammervirtuoseâ und Mitglied des Sinfonie-Orchesters unter dessen damaligem Kapellmeister Richard Wagner wurde. Wie Wagner selbst verlieĂ auch Carl Gottlob Riga 1839 unter anscheinend abenteuerlichen UmstĂ€nden â so der erwĂ€hnte Aufsatz, der indes nichts Genaues zu wissen scheint und auch nichts ĂŒber das spĂ€tere Leben des Carl Gottlob. Der war spĂ€testens 1847 wieder in Riga, Virtuose auf Horn wie KontrabaĂ, und starb dort 1876: so das Rigaer Theater- und TonkĂŒnstler-Lexikon von 1890, das von dem frĂŒheren Aufenthalt in Riga nichts weiĂ â aber ebenfalls 1807 und Ziegelroda als Geburtsjahr und -ort angibt.
Zu seiner Familie, die auĂer Ehefrau und Sohn inzwischen mehrere Töchter umfaĂte, scheint Carl Gottlob nicht zurĂŒckgekehrt zu sein. Der Sohn, ebenfalls Carl Gottlob getauft, jedoch stets nur als âCarl Bratfischâ firmierend, geht 1847 als âHoboisten-AnwĂ€rterâ zur Armee â offenbar noch mit siebzehn, dem frĂŒhestmöglichen Alter â und wird in Glogau stationiert. Der Aufsatz deutet an, ihm sei es zugefallen, fĂŒr Mutter und Schwestern zu sorgen. 1866 nimmt er am PreuĂisch-Ăsterreichischen Krieg teil, wird verwundet. Der Aufsatz erwĂ€hnt Briefe, in denen er sich der FamilienĂŒberlieferung nach betroffen ĂŒber das Kriegsgeschehen Ă€uĂert, sie gingen allerdings im Zweiten Weltkrieg verloren. 1867 schreibt er den âSteinmetz-Marschâ, der dem General von Steinmetz, Befehlshaber des bei Skalitz siegreichen V. PreuĂischen Armeekorps, dem Bratfisch angehörte, nach Aussage eines im Netz gefundenen unsignierten Textes âausdrĂŒcklich nicht gewidmetâ sei â was immer das heiĂen mag. Der Wikipedia-Eintrag zu Bratfisch schreibt im Gegenteil, der Marsch sei Steinmetz gewidmet, was aber vielleicht nur auf einer naheliegenden Annahme beruht. Jedenfalls wird dieser Marsch rasch populĂ€r.
Seine Karriere beim Heer beendet Bratfisch dennoch schon im folgenden Jahr, 1868, offenbar vorzeitig. Er bleibt in Glogau. Genaues zu seiner TĂ€tigkeit dort habe ich nicht finden können. Offenbar unterrichtete und dirigierte er, und Wikipedia zufolge war er âOrganist und Musikdirekorâ. Das kann er als Protestant nur an der Evangelischen Stadtkirche gewesen sein, dem neben der ev. Garnisonkirche einzigen protestantischen Gotteshaus der Stadt.
Carl Bratfisch hatte zwei Kinder: Elisabeth, die in Glogau als Klavier- und Geigenlehrerin lebte, und Georg (1858-1916), der 1884 oderabwĂ€rts in Frankfurt einen Musikalienhandel eröffnete. Bald kam ein Musikverlag dazu, indem auch Werke von Carl Bratfisch erschienen â so die hier zu hörenden (bei imslp.com verfĂŒgbar); daneben auch etwa (mir nicht zugĂ€nglich) PrĂ€ludien in Fugenform als Vor- und Nachspiel zum Gebrauch beim öffentlichen Gottesdienste. Der wiederholt erwĂ€hnte Aufsatz nennt darĂŒber hinaus Klavier- und Chorwerke, Tanz- und Unterhaltungsmusik.
Dieses Video ist eines von zweien mit Einspielungen der PrĂ€ludien fĂŒr Orgel oder Pedalharmonium von 1896. In der Videobeschreibung zu dem anderen finden sich Bemerkungen zu den Instrumenten, auf denen die StĂŒcke zur Zeit ihrer Entstehung gespielt worden sein mögen.
Carl Bratfisch starb 1901 in Glogau. Ein Bild von ihm habe ich trotz intensiver Suche nicht finden können.
If Carl Bratfisch is known at all today it is as composer of the âSteinmetz-Marschâ of 1867. It forms part of the repertoire of the Bundeswehr (the present-day German army), but in addition to performances dating from before the Second World War you will also find recordings made in the German Democratic Republic and even by the band of the Leningrad naval base (which presumably continued to cultivate repertoire from the Tsarist period).
I chanced on the âSteinmetz-Marschâ in the context of research on the organist Paul Blumenthal (1843-1930), who is to play a role on this channel in the future, and whose publisher, for a while, was his friend Georg Bratfisch in Frankfurt-an-der-Oder. An essay on the Bratfisch family (in: Frankfurter Jahrbuch 2005) yielded the desired photograph of Blumenthal, while also alerting me to Carl Bratfisch. I called up a recording of the march: stirring stuff with a melancholy undertow, the composer employing the fashionable style of his time with remarkable competence and panache. Both the aforementioned essay and the Wikipedia entry on Bratfisch note the existence of organ works by him. Aha?
Carl Bratfisch was probably himself the son of a military musician. On 15 March 1829 his father, Carl Gottlob B., born in 1807 at Ziegelroda, marries in the Garrison Church in Berlin. On this occasion he is described as an oboist. On 18 December the birth of his only son is entered in the baptismal register of the Königliches Kaiser Franz Grenadier-Regiment in Berlin (so named in honour of the then emperor of Austria).
The family later lived in Neudamm (DÄbno in what is now Poland). At some point Carl Gottlob removed himself to Riga, where he gained the title of âImperial Russian Chamber Virtuosoâ and joined the municipal symphony orchestra under its then conductor Richard Wagner. Like Wagner Carl Gottlob left Riga in 1839 in what appear to have been somewhat turbulent circumstances â says the aforementioned essay, which however offers no details, on this or on Carl Gottlobâs later life. By 1847 he was back in Riga, a virtuoso player of both the horn and the double bass, and he died there in 1876. That information comes from the Rigaer Theater- und TonkĂŒnstler-Lexikon of 1890, which fails to mention the earlier stay in Riga â but does give 1807 as Carl Gottlobâs year of birth and Ziegelroda as his birthplace.
Carl Gottlob apparently never went back to his family, which apart from his wife and son by that time also comprised several daughters. In 1847 the son, likewise baptised Carl Gottlob but only ever called Carl, joined the Prussian army as a âtrainee oboistâ â presumably he was still only 17, the youngest age at which it was possible to volunteer. He was stationed in Glogau, a town in Silesia on the river Oder (now GĆogĂłw in Poland). The aforementioned essay suggests that it fell to him to provide for his mother and sisters. In 1866 he participated in the Prussian-Austrian War and sustained injuries. The essay refers to letters in which according to family tradition he expressed consternation at the events of the war, but they were lost in World War II. In 1867 he wrote the Steinmetz March. According to an unsigned text found on the web this is âexpressly not dedicatedâ to General von Steinmetz, commander of the Vth Prussian Army Corps victorious at Skalitz (Skalice) â whatever that is supposed to mean. The German Wikipedia entry on Bratfisch states on the contrary that the march is dedicated to Steinmetz â but that may merely reflect a natural assumption. In any case the march quickly became popular.
Nevertheless Bratfisch ended his military career in the following year, 1868, thus apparently cutting it short. He remained in Glogau. I have not found any very precise details of what he did there, but it seems that he was active as a music teacher and conductor, and according to Wikipedia he was âorganist and director of musicâ. As a Protestant he can only have held this kind of office at the townâs Protestant parish church â one of only two Protestant churches in Glogau, the other being the Protestant Garrison Church.
Bratfisch had two children: Elisabeth, who lived in Glogau as a piano and violin teacher, and Georg (1858-1916), wo in 1884 opened a business selling music and musical instruments in Frankfurt, downstream from Glogau on the river Oder. Soon he added a music publishing company, which also distributed works by his father â such as those recorded here (available at imslp.com), or a volume entitled Preludes in Fugal Form to be used as Pre- and Postludes in Public Divine Service, which I have not so far been able to get hold of. The essay on the Bratfisch family moreover mentions works for piano, choral works, and dance music.
This video is one of two with performances of the Preludes for Organ or Pedal Harmonium of 1896. In the video description of the other one you will find some remarks on the instruments on which these pieces might have been played at the time they were written.
Carl Bratfisch died in Glogau in 1901. Despite my best efforts I have not been able to find a picture of him.
Carl Bratfisch (1829-1901): 12 PrĂ€ludien fĂŒr Orgel Nr. 4 & 6 (Röver-Orgel Ditfurt)
(English below) Zur Biographie des Komponisten vgl. die Videobeschreibung zu meiner gleichzeitig hochgeladenen Aufnahme der PrĂ€ludien Nr. 2 & 3 [s.o.]! â PrĂ€ludium Nr. 6 ist bezeichnet als âVorspiel zu âDer Tag sich neigt’â. Gemeint ist wohl das 1852 erschienene Gedicht âAbendliedâ von Julius Sturm (1816-96). Es wurde mehrfach vertont, namentlich fĂŒr Singstimme und Klavier, beliebt war aber offenbar auch der vierstimmige unbegleitete Chorsatz von August Eduard Grell (1800-1886), der sich etwa in Sammlungen fĂŒr den Schulgebrauch findet. Ebenfalls möglich ist, daĂ es eine Vertonung von Bratfisch selbst gab.
Auf welchen Instrumenten hat Bratfisch seine PrĂ€ludien gespielt? Der obligate Pedalpart macht sie im Unterschied zu so vielen damals veröffentlichten Sammlungen Ă€hnlicher StĂŒcke fĂŒr die Hausmusik eher ungegeignet â es sei denn, man besaĂ das auf dem Titelblatt der Notenausgabe angesprochene Pedalharmonium, das aber zumal vor 1900 wohl nicht sehr verbreitet war. Ich denke, es handelt sich hier tatsĂ€chlich in erster Linie um Orgelwerke. Verlegt hat sie der Sohn des Komponisten, der in Frankfurt an der Oder einen Musikalienhandel und Musikverlag betrieb. Er muĂte natĂŒrlich darauf bedacht sein, einen möglichst groĂen Kundenkreis anzusprechen. Vielleicht war er es, der auf den Gedanken kam, das Pedalharmonium mit auf die Titelseite zu setzen (und vermutlich wĂ€re ein solches Instrument auch ĂŒber ihn zu beziehen gewesenâŠ).
Was fĂŒr Orgeln standen Carl Bratfisch in Glogau zur VerfĂŒgung? Die evangelische Garnisonkirche, mit der Bratfisch als langjĂ€hriger Armeeangehöriger vertraut gewesen sein muĂ, besaĂ seit ihrer Einweihung 1790 ein Instrument des Glogauer Orgelbauers Andreas Bayer (von ihm mindestens Ă€uĂerlich erhalten die Orgel der Klosterkirche Liebenthal / Lubomierz von 1798). Vermutlich war es die Bayer-Orgel, die laut Inserat in der Zeitschrift fĂŒr Instrumentenbau 1898 zur Versteigerung stand und deren Disposition mit sieben Registern im Hauptwerk und je drei im Oberwerk und im Pedal angegeben wird. Was an deren Stelle trat, habe ich nicht ermitteln können â und es wĂ€re nach Veröffentlichung der hier eingespielten StĂŒcke gewesen. (Das Erscheinungsdatum 1896 ĂŒbernehme ich von imslp.com â verifizieren konnte ich es nicht.) In der evangelischen Stadtkirche befand sich, 1775 drei Jahre nach Einweihung der Kirche fertiggestellt, eine Orgel von Gottlieb Benjamin Engler, Sohn des bekannteren Michael Engler (von diesem namentlich die berĂŒhmte Orgel der Abteikirche GrĂŒssau / KrzeszĂłw). Sie hatte folgende Disposition:
Hauptwerk (C-d3): Principal 8âČ, Bordunflaut 16âČ, Flaut major 8âČ, Viola di Gamba 8âČ, Salicet 8âČ, Unda maris 8âČ, Octava 4âČ, Rohrflaut 4âČ, Quinta 3âČ, Superoctava 2âČ, Mixtur V, Cimbel III, Trombetta 8 â Brustwerk (C-d3): Principal 4âČ, Contraprincipal 8âČ, Flaut amabile 8âČ, Quintadena 8âČ, Flaut minor 4âČ, Spitzflaut 4âČ, Salicet 4âČ, Quinta 3âČ, Superoctava 2âČ, Mixtur IV, Cimbel II, Vox humana 8âČ â Pedal (C-d1): Principal 16âČ, SubbaĂ 16âČ, Violon 16âČ, Quintadena 16âČ, OctavenbaĂ 8âČ, FlautenbaĂ 8âČ, Gemsquint 6âČ, Superoctava 4âČ, Posaune 16âČ, Trompet 8âČ
Wie bei der GrĂŒssauer Orgel des Vaters lieĂen sich die Manuale aneinander, aber nicht ans Pedal koppeln. Freilich mögen die Angaben zur Disposition (Quelle: R. Walter in Organa Austriaca 4.1988) die Situation zur Erbauungszeit wiedergeben. In einem 1966 erschienenen Erinnerungsbuch schreibt Werner Eberlein, Pfarrer der Kirche bis 1945, zu der Orgel, daĂ ihr âGrundstock aufâŠGottfried SilbermannâŠzurĂŒckgingâ, sie aber âdurch VergröĂerungen und Verbesserungen verdorben war. Doch gab es noch intakte Silbermannregister.â Die Zuschreibung an Silbermann reflektiert wohl ein lokalpatriotisches MĂ€rchen, doch deutet die ĂuĂerung darauf hin, daĂ das Instrument nicht mehr im Ursprungszustand war.
Hinsichtlich der katholischen KultstĂ€tten der Stadt habe ich keinerlei Informationen ĂŒber die Stadtkirche St. Nikolai, obschon sie sicher mit einer Orgel versehen war. Adlung (Musica mechanica organoedi, 1768) erwĂ€hnt sie nicht, sondern nur Dom, Jesuiten- und Dominikanerkirche, die jeweils ĂŒber zweimanualige Werke mit respektive 26, 25 und 20 Registern verfĂŒgten. Die Dominikanerkirche war im 19. Jahrhundert profaniert, ĂŒber einen Neubau der Orgel der Jesuitenkirche weiĂ ich nichts. Der Dom erhielt allerdings 1889 im alten GehĂ€use ein neues Instrument der Firma Schlag & Söhne (27 / ii+P), und dieselbe Firma lieferte 1892 ein Instrument fĂŒr den prĂ€chtigen Neubau der Synagoge (16 / ii+P).
Bei diesen beiden Instrumenten werden SchwellkĂ€sten vorhanden gewesen sein, die die in PrĂ€ludium 4 und gelegentlich auch sonst in der Sammlung geforderten Crescendi und Decrescendi ermöglichten. LĂ€Ăt man sie freilich weg, wird der Zuhörer, vermute ich, sie nicht vermissen.
For a biography of the composer see the video description of my recording of Preludes 2 and 3, uploaded at the same time as this video [see above]!
No. 6 of the collection is labelled âPrelude to âDer Tag sich neigt’â. The reference is probably to the poem âAbendliedâ (Evensong) by Julius Sturm (1816-96), first published in 1852. (I did in fact find a translation of this poem by one Henry Phillips, in a volume entitled German Lyrics privately printed in Philadelphia in 1892 and available at archive.org . But I dislike the translation, stilted and precious-sounding when what no doubt made Sturm so popular was his knack of finding poetry in simple, everyday language. I suspect Phillips did not recognise certain phrases used by Sturm as the idiomatic expressions that they are.) This poem was set to music a number of times, often for voice and piano, but a setting for unaccompanied four-part choir by August Eduard Grell (1800-1886) is found for example in choral anthologies for use by schools and may thus have been quite well-known. It is also possible that there was a setting by Bratfisch himself.
On what instruments did Bratfisch play his Preludes? The mandatory pedal part means that they were ill-suited for domestic music-making, unlike so many pieces of similar character published at that time â unless you owned a pedal harmonium, mentioned on the title page as an alternative to the organ. But such instruments must have been rare. I am inclined to think that these pieces really were essentially written for the organ. They were published by the composerâs son, who ran a business selling musical instruments as well as a musical publishing company in Frankfurt-an-der-Oder. Naturally he would have been keen to interest as wide a circle of potential customers as possible, and I imagine that it may have been his idea to advertise the collection as suitable for the pedal harmonium. (Presumably he would also have been happy to supply one!)
So what kind of organ did Bratfisch have at his disposal in Glogau? The Protestant Garrison Church, with which as a former member of the military he must have been familiar, from its inauguration in 1790 had an organ by a local builder, Andreas Bayer (an example of his work of which at least the case is original is the organ of the abbey church at Liebenthal / Lubomierz of 1798). Presumably it was still this organ by Bayer that was offered at public auction in an advertisement of the Zeitschrift fĂŒr Instrumentenbau in 1898, its specification given as 7 stops on the Great and 3 each on a second manual and in the pedal division. I have not been able to find out what took its place â and this would in any case have been after the publication of the pieces heard here. (The date of publication is given as 1896 on imslp.com ; I could not verify it independently.) The church of the civilian Protestant parish had an organ completed in 1775, three years after the church itself, by Gottlieb Benjamin Engler, son of the better-known Michael Engler (who built the famous organ in the abbey church at GrĂŒssau / KrzeszĂłw). The stop list was as follows:
Hauptwerk (C-d3): Principal 8âČ, Bordunflaut 16âČ, Flaut major 8âČ, Viola di Gamba 8âČ, Salicet 8âČ, Unda maris 8âČ, Octava 4âČ, Rohrflaut 4âČ, Quinta 3âČ, Superoctava 2âČ, Mixtur V, Cimbel III, Trombetta 8 â Brustwerk (C-d3): Principal 4âČ, Contraprincipal 8âČ, Flaut amabile 8âČ, Quintadena 8âČ, Flaut minor 4âČ, Spitzflaut 4âČ, Salicet 4âČ, Quinta 3âČ, Superoctava 2âČ, Mixtur IV, Cimbel II, Vox humana 8âČ â Pedal (C-d1): Principal 16âČ, SubbaĂ 16âČ, Violon 16âČ, Quintadena 16âČ, OctavenbaĂ 8âČ, FlautenbaĂ 8âČ, Gemsquint 6âČ, Superoctava 4âČ, Posaune 16âČ, Trompet 8âČ
As with the KrzeszĂłw organ the manuals could be coupled but the organ lacked a pedal coupler. But this stop list (source: R. Walter in Organa Austriaca 4.1988) may reflect an original situation that was later modified. In a memoir of 1966 Werner Eberlein, minister of the church until 1945, writes about the organ that âits core went back to Gottfried Silbermannâ but that âit had been spoiled by later enlargements and improvements. However some intact Silbermann ranks survived.â The attribution to Silbermann no doubt reflects a local legend, but the remark indicates that the instrument had undergone some rebuilding.
Regarding the townâs Catholic churches I have no data about the Catholic parish church of St Nicholas at all â though it must have had an organ. Adlung (Musica mechanica organoedi, 1768) mentions only the cathedral, the Jesuit church and the Blackfriars church, all of which had two-manual instruments with, respectively, 26, 25 und 20 stops. In the 19th c. the Blackfriars church had been deconsecrated and was used as a storage space. I have no information on whether the organ in the Jesuit church was rebuilt. But the cathedral in 1889 acquired a new organ in the old case by the company of Schlag & Söhne (27 / ii+P), which also in 1892 provided an organ for the magnificent new synagogue (16 / ii+P).
These instruments must have had divisions that were under expression, making possible the crescendo effects called for in Prelude no. 4 and in some of the other pieces. But I suspect that they would not be missed if you omit them.
Charles Burney (1726-1814): Fugue in f minor (Anloo)
Charles Burney is better known as a music critic than as a composer. But he was that, too. This fugue was originally printed in a volume entitled VI Cornet Pieces with an Introduction for the Diapasons, and a Fugue. Proper for young Organists and Practitioners on the Harpsichord. Composâd by Mr. Charles Burney. London: I. Walsh, no date. This publication can be found on imslp.
Charles Callahan (1951-2023): Partita on Silent Night (Oakland Aeolian-Skinner)
English below! Op. 1301 der Bostoner Firma Aeolian-Skinner wurde (unter Joseph S. Whiteford als Chefintonateur) 1956-7 fĂŒr eine Kirche in Berkeley, Kalifornien erbaut und 1983 von der Fa. Schoenstein in die First Covenant Church in Oakland versetzt. Dabei wurden Register hinzugefĂŒgt â auf dem unteren Manual (Choir) Rohrnasat 2 2/3âČ, Klein Prinzipal 2âČ, Zimbel III und Bombard 8âČ (letztere auch vom 2. Manual anspielbar), auf dem 2. Manual (Hauptwerk) Gemshorn 16âČ und Zauberflöte 4âČ, auf dem oberen Manual (Swell) Klarine 4âČ, im Pedal Subbass 16âČ. Damit verfĂŒgt das Instrument ĂŒber 45 Register plus 6 Transmissionen (im Pedal). Alle Manualregister haben Superkoppeln (teilweise ausgebaut), die beiden Nebenwerke lassen sich in Ăqual- wie Sub- und Superoktavlage aneinander sowie ans Hauptwerk, alle drei Manualwerke in Ăqual- wie Superoktavlage ans Pedal koppeln. Spiel- wie Registertraktur sind elektrisch. Die Orgel steht, einer Kinoorgel vergleichbar, von Holzgittern verdeckt ohne sichtbare Pfeifen in einer zweigeteilten âorgan chamberâ hinter dem Altar, zu beiden Seiten eines raumhohen Fensters. Die Intonation trĂ€gt den fĂŒr Nordamerika typischen Gegebenheiten (Orgel nicht frei im Raum, relativ geringe RaumgröĂe und -höhe mit trockener Akustik) natĂŒrlich Rechnung.
Op.1301 of the Aeolian-Skinner company of Boston was built in 1956-7 (under Joseph S. Whiteford as tonal director) for a church in Berkeley, California. In 1983 Schoenstein moved it to the First Covenant Church in Oakland, adding several stops â on the lowermost manual (Choir) Rohrnasat 2 2/3âČ, Klein Prinzipal 2âČ, Zimbel III and Bombard 8âČ (the latter also playable from the middle manual), on the middle manual (Great) Gemshorn 16âČ and Zauberflöte 4âČ, on the upper manual (Swell) Klarine 4âČ, in the pedal division Subbass 16âČ. The instrument now has 45 stops plus 6 transmissions (in the pedal division). All manual stops have super octave couplers (some with 6th-octave extensions). Choir and Swell can be coupled, at unison, super octave and suboctave pitch, to each other and to the Great, and all manuals can be coupled to the pedals at unison and super octave pitch. The key and stop action is electric. Rather like a theatre organ the instrument lacks visible pipes. It is situated in two organ chambers behind the altar, divided by a window taking up the entire wall space between its two sections and concealed by wooden trellises. The voicing of course takes account of an acoustic situation quite typical for North America (with the organ hidden away rather than standing in the room itself, a room that in turn is of moderate dimensions and height and full of sound-absorbing wooden or textile furnishings).
Andrew Carter (*1939): Aria (for organ)
Played (via Hauptwerk) on the 1951 Aeolian-Skinner organ built for the (now redundant) Church of the Redeemer, New Haven, Connecticut. Born in Leeds, Andrew Carter studied music in his home town and became a singer in the choir of York Minster. He later followed a career as a conductor and composer (especially of choral and organ music). He lives in York. The work heard here was written in 1995. The instrument heard was built in 1951 by the Aeolian-Skinner company of Boston for a colonial-style church in New Haven â its architecture belying the fact that the building was in fact also finished only in 1951. Due to the dwindling of the congregation, in 2018 it was decided to close the church; planning permission was given earlier this year for its conversion into flats. The quite magnificent organ is in storage and at the time of posting this video (2020) was still for sale for a meagre 50,000 dollars from the Organ Clearing House. Before its dismantling it was sampled in its original location to record it for posterity; that sample set is available for free. Playing it of course requires a MIDI-enabled organ console as seen in my videos, and the Hauptwerk organ emulation software.
Update (2024): The organ from Redeemer Church has now been reinstalled in Derry Presbyterian Church, Hershey, Pennsylvania.
[(Comment accompanying my posting of this video on Facebook:) There has recently been a discussion in this forum on whether people prefer Hauptwerk recordings to CD recordings of the same organ. Can they even be distinguished? Differences I suspect will be mostly due to different microphone positions, and variations in the condition of the organ itself. Anyway, for a true comparison it would be necessary to hear the same piece with the same registration preferably played in exactly the same manner by the same person, more or less at the same time, at the same room temperature etc. Almost impossible to set up. Nor, to my mind, does it actually matter. The real question, it seems to me, is whether Hauptwerk recordings sound convincingly like recordings of performances on the (or, at any rate a) „real“ organ — to which I think the answer must be a resounding yes. I doubt if anyone could tell one from the other without being told. (In fact, on Youtube the sound quality of Hauptwerk recordings is often better than that of recordings made live from a „real“ instrument.) The particular sample set heard here has, in the course of that other discussion, come in for some quite harsh criticism, which I found hard to understand. To my ears it sounds beautiful. Comparison with the „real“ organ is now impossible since that has been dismantled and can never sound in its original location again. (You can still buy it from the Organ Clearing House if you have 50,000 dollars to spare.) But what matters, as far as I am concerned, is that you can make beautiful music with this sample set. And it is free. I find that enormously generous. For me, it compares very favourably with a lot of other free offerings available, and indeed with some that are not free.]
Bohuslav MatÄj ÄernohorskĂœ (1684-1742): Fuga d-moll
Orgel der Kirche San Carlo, Brescia English below Bohuslav MatÄj ÄernohorskĂœ wurde als Sohn eines Organisten in Nymburk 50km östlich von Prag geboren. Nach Studium in Prag wurde er Franziskaner. Wohl auch wegen eines chronisch schwierigen VerhĂ€ltnis zu seinen heimischen Ordensoberen zog es Ä. immer wieder nach Italien. Bald nach seiner Priesterweihe 1708 finden wir ihn in Assisi: anscheinend auf Einladung der dort ansĂ€ssigen Ordensleitung, doch ohne Erlaubnis der Prager Oberen, die vergeblich intervenierten. Von 1710 an war Ä. Organist und Kompositionslehrer an der Hauptkirche des Ordens in Assisi, sein bekanntester SchĂŒler dort Giuseppe Tartini. 1715 wechselte er als Organist und Chorleiter an die Basilika des hl. Antonius in Padua. 1720 kehrte er nach Prag zurĂŒck, hielt sich aber, als Organist und Lehrer berĂŒhmt, auch an Konventen der Franziskaner in Schlesien auf. Tartini, seit 1721 Konzertmeister des Orchesters der Antonius-Basilika, wurde 1723 zur Krönung Kaiser Karls VI. zum böhmischen König ebenfalls nach Prag gerufen und hielt sich bis 1726 dort auf, um dann seinen Posten in Padua wieder einzunehmen. Bald darauf, 1727, wurde Ä., bei den Ordensoberen wieder einmal in Ungnade, an den Konvent der Kleinstadt HoraĆŸÄovice 120km sĂŒdöstlich von Prag versetzt. Von dort unternahm er offenbar nicht weniger als vier Reisen nach Italien, ehe er 1731 neuerlich Organist der Antonius-Basilika wurde. 1741 entschloĂ er sich zur Heimkehr nach Böhmen, kam aber nur bis Graz, wo er im Februar 1742 starb. Der verlĂ€ngerte Aufenthalt in Graz könnte mit dem Erbfolgekrieg zu tun gehabt haben, den der Tod Karls VI. 1740 auslöste und dessen Schauplatz gerade auch Böhmen war, auch mag Ä. bereits gesundheitlich angeschlagen gewesen sein.
(Hintergrund war anscheinend, daĂ Ä. verpflichtet gewesen wĂ€re, seinen Anteil am Erbe seines 1726 verstorbenen Vaters dem Prager Konvent zu ĂŒberlassen, dieser Verpflichtung aber nicht nachkam, womöglich auch deshalb, weil der Konvent, seit Jahren ĂŒberschuldet, wegen finanzieller MiĂwirtschaft in der Kritik stand.
Die Zeit in Graz reichte, ihn auch dort so berĂŒhmt werden zu lassen, daĂ sein Tod zu ausgedehnten Trauerfeierlichkeiten nicht nur der Franziskaner fĂŒhrte, wohingegen die Prager Franziskaner, als die Nachricht seines Ablebens eintraf, sich mit einem einzigen Requiem begnĂŒgten und schmallippig hinzufĂŒgten, Ä. habe sich um die Ordensprovinz (Böhmen) wenig verdient gemacht.)
Zur Ăberlieferung der von Ä. erhaltenen Orgelwerke konnte ich kaum etwas ermitteln, geschweige denn wann er sie wo geschrieben haben könnte. Von zwei seiner Fugen (nicht dieser) gibt es Digitalisate zeitgenössischer (autographer?) Abschriften in der Staatsbibliothek Berlin. Sie sind, wie damals ĂŒblich, auf nur zwei Systemen notiert, der Pedalpart also nicht gesondert: aber schwerlich manualiter spielbar.
Die BaĂstimme erfordert bei Ä. immer wieder, wie hier, in der untersten Oktave das F#, teils (in anderen StĂŒcken) gar D# und G#. Auf zwei Prager Orgeln, die Ä. nachweislich gespielt hat â Franziskanerkirche St. Jakob: 26 / ii + P, Abraham Starck 1705; Teynkirche: 29 / ii + P, Hans Heinrich Mundt 1673 â fehlen (oder fehlten: in St. Jakob ist nurmehr der Prospekt original) aber wegen der kurzen BaĂoktave in den Manualen wie im Pedal alle Halbtöne dieser Oktave auĂer dem B. So bleibt rĂ€tselhaft, was fĂŒr ein Instrument Ä. im Sinn hatte.
Bei der eingespielten Komposition lĂ€Ăt sich das F# im BaĂ oktavieren, und im Gegensatz zu anderen Fugen von Ä. verlangt die BaĂstimme keinen höheren Ton als g â die das Pedal in Brescia aufweist, wie entsprechend auch das f#. Die Pedalklaviatur in San Carlo mit ihren 16 Tasten (C,D,E,F,G,A-g) ist nicht original, sondern stammt wohl aus dem 19. Jh. (Fa. Bossi 1829?), wenn nicht dem 20. (Giov. Frigerio 1929? Armando Maccarinelli 1958?). Das Pedal als solches war wohl immer vorhanden, aber hatte es immer den jetzigen Umfang? Das ist durchaus wahrscheinlich: bei der bereits 1588 von Costanzo Antegnati erbauten Orgel der Kirche S. Nicola in Almenno San Salvatore ist der Pedalumfang von 14 Tasten (C,D,E,F,G,A-f) offenbar original. Dieser Orgel fĂŒgte der aus den Niederlanden stammende Orgelbauer Willem Hermans bereits 1649 das 16-FuĂ-Pedalregister Contrabassi hinzu (in Brescia stammt es wohl ebenfalls erst aus neuerer Zeit), das er auch bei seinen eigenen, erhaltenen Instrumenten in Pistoia (1664) und Collescipoli (1678) disponierte. Dort hat indes das Pedal nur magere 12 Tasten (C-d#).
Nun ging es hier ja nicht um den Nachweis der AusfĂŒhrbarkeit konkreter Werke von Ä. auf italienischen Barockorgeln, sondern nur darum, zu zeigen, daĂ figuratives Pedalspiel im Stil seiner Fugen auch auf solchen Orgeln möglich war.
Orgeln, wie sie Ä. in Italien begegneten, sehen sich hinsichtlich technischer Ausstattung und Disposition insgesamt sehr Ă€hnlich. Sie haben zumeist nur ein Manual; das Pedal ist angehĂ€ngt, verfĂŒgt fallweise zusĂ€tzlich ĂŒber ein oder auch mehr eigene Register. Figuratives Pedalspiel ist in barocker italienischer Orgelmusik soweit ich weiĂ nie vorgesehen, im Gegensatz zur barocken Orgelmusik Mitteleuropas. Doch ist schwer vorstellbar, daĂ Ä., an letztere gewöhnt und als Orgelvirtuose berĂŒhmt, in Italien mit den FĂŒĂen nur die dort ĂŒblichen Liegetöne gespielt hat. Wie das Video zeigt muĂte er das auch nicht â umso weniger, je mehr Pedaltasten vorhanden waren.
Die Antonius-Basilika in Padua verfĂŒgte, als Ä. dort tĂ€tig war, ĂŒber mindestens vier (wahrscheinlich noch mehr) Orgeln, eine erbaut 1539, eine 1559, zwei weitere 1651. An mindestens drei dieser vier war mit Eugenio Casparini spĂ€ter ein deutscher Orgelbauer tĂ€tig (eigentlich Johann Eugen Caspar, 1678-90 in Padua), noch spĂ€ter an allen vier der in Venedig ansĂ€ssige Pietro Nacchini. SĂ€mtliche alte Orgeln der Basilika wurden 1895 entfernt, der Pedalumfang ist wohl nicht mehr feststellbar. FĂŒr ein 1681 von Casparini fĂŒr die Kirche Santa Giustina in Padua erstelltes Instrument gibt Ivan Furlanis in der auf seiner Homepage verlinkten Ăbersicht (Organi padovani) einen Pedalumfang von â vermutlich â 18 Tasten an; es hatte 27 Register auf zwei Manualen und war damit fĂŒr Italien ungewöhnlich groĂ. 1735 wurde es von Nacchini umgebaut; mindestens 1740 war Nacchini an der Antoniusbasilika tĂ€tig. Zwei erhaltene Orgeln von Nacchini mit ebenfalls zwei Manualen haben 20 Pedaltasten (beide Venedig: S. Martino, 1737; S. Cassiano, 1742); bei zwei weiteren einmanualigen sind 17 Pedaltasten vorhanden (Muzzana del Turgnano: S. Vitale, 1750; Venedig: Chiesa dellâOspedaletto, 1751).
English version of the video description
The son of an organist, Bohuslav MatÄj ÄernohorskĂœ was born at Nymburk, 50km east of Prague. He attended university in Prague and then became a Franciscan friar. Relations with his local superiors in the order appear to have been chronically strained, which must have encouraged his tendency to escape to Italy. Soon after his ordination in 1708 we find him at Assisi â apparently at the invitation of the Franciscan âhigh commandâ there, yet against the wishes of the Franciscan authorities in Prague, who intervened in vain. From 1710 Ä. worked as organist and teacher of musical composition at Assisi, his most famous student being Giuseppe Tartini. In 1715 he became organist and choirmaster of St Anthonyâs Basilica in Padua. He returned to Prague in 1720 but, a famous organist and teacher, also spent time at branches of his order in Silesia. Tartini, who had become leader of the orchestra of St Anthonyâs Basilica in 1721, was called to Prague in 1723 for the coronation of the Emperor Charles VI as King of Bohemia; he stayed until 1726 and then resumed his post in Padua. Soon after, in 1727, Ä. once more fell foul of his superiors and found himself banished to the convent at HoraĆŸÄovice, a small town 120km southeast of Prague. In the following years he made no fewer than four trips to Italy and finally, in 1731, took up a post as organist of St Anthonyâs Basilica once more. In 1741 he decided to return to Bohemia but got no further than Graz, where he died in February of 1742. He may have extended his stay at Graz because of the War of the Austrian Succession, triggered by the death of Charles VI in 1740 and of which Bohemia was a main theatre; it may also be that his health was already failing.
(The background seems to have been that Ä. was expected to transfer his share of the inheritance of his father, who died in 1726, to the Prague convent but failed to do so — one reason perhaps being that the convent had long been heavily in debt and the object of accusations of financial mismanagement.
The time spent in Graz was sufficient to make Ä. so famous there that his death occasioned extensive solemnities not only on the part of the Franciscans. By contrast, when the Prague Franciscans learned of his death they limited themselves to a single requiem, even noting that he had done little for the Bohemian province of the order.)
I was unable to find out much about the sources for the relatively few works by Ä. that survive, let alone when and where he might have written them. At least the manuscripts of two of his fugues (not this one) in the Staatsbibliothek Berlin can be viewed online; they are contemporary though probably not autograph. As was the custom at that time they are written on two staves, with the pedal part not marked as such, though they could hardly be played on manuals only.
Curiously, Ä. regularly uses F# in the bass (as he does in the piece recorded here) and indeed (in other works) also D# and G#. Yet two organs that we know that he played in Prague â that of the Franciscan church of St James: 26 / ii + P, Abraham Starck 1705; and that of the TĂœn Church: 29 / ii + P, Hans Heinrich Mundt 1673 â both lack (or lacked: in St James only the organ case is still original) â all semitones in the bottom octave apart from Bb, in both the manuals and the pedals. It is thus a mystery which instrument Ä. might actually have had in mind.
In the piece recorded here it is possible to play the F# an octave higher, and in contrast to other fugues by Ä. the bass line requires no higher note than g â which the Brescia pedal board has, with the f# accordingly present too. This pedal board with its 16 keys (C,D,E,F,G,A-g) is not original, but presumably dates from the 19C (Bossi 1829?) or indeed the 20C (Giov. Frigerio 1929? Armando Maccarinelli 1958?). Presumably the organ did have a pedal board from the start; but is the compass original too? That seems possible and even likely. The organ built already in 1588 by Costanzo Antegnati for the church of S. Nicola in Almenno San Salvatore has 14 pedal keys (C,D,E,F,G,A-f) and that does seem to be the original compass. The 16âČ pedal stop Contrabassi, which in Brescia was apparently not added before the 19C, was added to the organ at Almenno San Salvatore already in 1649 by the Dutch organ builder, Willem Hermans. This stop also features in the extant instruments that Hermans built at Pistoia in 1664 and at Collescipoli in 1678. Those, however, have a pedal board comprising only 12 keys (C-d#).
Of course the idea in this video was not to prove that a specific composition by Ä. can be performed on Baroque Italian organs, but only to show that the pedals of such organs could indeed be used for contrapuntal playing.
Organs of the kind that Ä. would have known in Italy tended to be very similar in terms of their construction and specification. They would normally have a single manual with pull-down pedals, sometimes complemented by one or more independent pedal stops. As far as I know music written for such instruments never requires melodic lines to be played by the feet, in contrast to what would be expected in central Europe. Yet it is hard to imagine that Ä., used to the latter practice and renowned as a virtuoso player, would have contented himself with merely playing the sustained notes in the pedals customary in Italy. And, as the video illustrates, neither did he have to â the less so the greater the number of pedal keys.
When Ä. was organist there, St Anthonyâs Basilica in Padua had at least four organs (indeed probably more): one built in 1539, another in 1559, and two in 1651. A German organ builder, Eugenio Casparini (Johann Eugen Caspar, in Padua 1678-1690), worked on at least three of them, and the Venetian organ builder Pietro Nacchini subsequently worked on all four. All the old organs in the basilica were removed in 1895 and their pedal compasses are unknown. An instrument that Casparini built for the church of Santa Giustina in Padua in 1681 may have had 18 pedal keys, according to the information provided by Ivan Furlanis in the overview (Organi padovani) linked to his home page; this instrument had 27 stops on two manuals and was thus uncommonly large for Italy. Nacchini rebuilt it in 1735; he was active at St Anthonyâs in 1740 and perhaps also at other times. Two extant organs by Nacchini that also have two manuals both have 20 pedal keys (both in Venice: S. Martino, 1737; S. Cassiano, 1742); two other instruments by him with only one manual have 17 pedal keys (Muzzana del Turgnano: S. Vitale, 1750; Venice: Chiesa dellâOspedaletto, 1751).
Johann Christoph Conrad (1722 -84): Fuga c-moll fĂŒr Orgel (Velesovo)
(English below) Addendum: Biographisches zu J.C. Conrad siehe jetzt hier! â Wohl 1770 erschien bei Breitkopf & Sohn in Leipzig ein Notenband mit dem Titel Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, von Johann Christoph Conrad, Organisten zu Eisfeld. Ein Erscheinungsjahr ist nicht vermerkt. In seinem Musikalischen Almanach fĂŒr Deutschland auf das Jahr 1782 nennt Johann Nicolaus Forkel zu dieser Publikation das Erscheinungsjahr 1772 (S.59) und Ă€uĂert sich an anderer Stelle lobend ĂŒber Conrad: dieser habe âdurch seine Vorspiele gezeigt, daĂ er den wahren Orgelgeschmack kenneâ (S.120). Die Jahreszahl ist allerdings offenbar falsch, denn eine Besprechung der Conradschen âVorspieleâ erschien bereits am 8. Oktober 1770 in den Leipziger Musikalischen Nachrichten und Anmerkungen auf das Jahr 1770. Ein und vierzigstes StĂŒck, S.322.
Auch der anonyme Rezensent Ă€uĂert sich anerkennend: âMit VegnĂŒgen haben wir unter der Menge galanter Claviercomponisten [d.h. Komponisten von Musik fĂŒr Tasteninstrumente] ⊠einen Mann kennen gelernt, der mit einer kleinen Sammlung von OrgelstĂŒcken auftritt, welche man geĂŒbten Organisten zum Muster und zur Nachahmung, AnfĂ€ngern im Orgelspielen aber zur Ăbung und zu fleiĂiger Betrachtung empfehlen kann. Der Organist zu Eisfeld, einem nicht sehr ansehnlichen Orte im Coburgischen, Herr Johann Christoph Conrad, hat allhier bey Herrn Breitkopf ⊠drucken lassen: Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel. Die Vorspiele sind so beschaffen, daĂ Herr Conrad, wenn er ein ebenso geschickter Spieler als Componist ist, die Organistenstelle in der angesehensten freyen Reichsstadt verdient.â Der Rezensent wĂŒrdigt Conrads Meisterschaft in der âgebundenenâ bzw. âreinen contrapunktischen Schreibartâ, wie sie âder Orgel vorzĂŒglich eigenâ sei, von der sich die âgalantenâ Komponisten aber âimmer mehr entfernenâ. Kurz geht er auf die sechs StĂŒcke der Sammlung ein. Zum hier eingespielten heiĂt es: âEine Fuge in C moll, die reich an Harmonie, an Zergliederungen, an Umkehrungen des Thematis ist, macht den BeschluĂ.â
Forkel kennt Conrads Geburtsdatum, das er bei anderen Komponisten bisweilen angibt, offenbar nicht, und ich habe es bislang auch nicht ausfindig machen können. Zu ermitteln war, daĂ Conrad, als Sohn eines WeiĂbeckers aus Eisfeld gebĂŒrtig und Absolvent der dortigen Lateinschule, das Organistenamt an der Stadtkirche im MĂ€rz 1740 ĂŒbernahm (J.W. KrauĂ, Antiquitates et Memorabilia Historiae Franconicae, Darinnen insonderheit der Ursprung, Einrichtung und MerckwĂŒrdigkeiten der Stadt EiĂfeld ⊠abgehandelt werden, Hildburghausen 1753, S.227, 275). Auch das Todesjahr bleibt vorerst unklar. âHerr Conradi, Organist zu Eisfeldâ (die Schreibung âConradiâ auch einmal bei KrauĂ, eindeutig auf den Organisten bezogen, der in KrauĂâ anderer Nennung aber âConradâ heiĂt) erscheint 1784 im Subskribentenverzeichnis einer gelehrten Publikation mit dem Titel Neue Sammlung geographisch-historisch-statistischer Schriften. Dritter Band. Hierin geht es um Geschichte und Geographie der einzelnen deutschen Landschaften. Die Liste nennt Subskribenten, die zu der laufenden, auf mehrere BĂ€nde angelegten Reihe hinzugestoĂen waren, und fĂŒhrt neben dem Organisten auch einen weiteren Conradi, âKaufmann zu Eisfeldâ auf. Auch die letzte Ausgabe von Forkels Almanach, fĂŒr 1789 und wohl 1788 gedruckt, nennt Conrad noch als Eisfelder Organisten. Offenbar ĂŒbernahm Conrad das Amt als junger Mann, weswegen ein Geburtsjahr um 1720 plausibel scheint.
Die Conradschen Vorspiele enthalten vier Choralbearbeitungen, ein freies Trio und die Fuge. Die Noten sind bei imslp.com verfĂŒgbar. Meine Einspielungen aller sechs Vorspiele finden sich hier.
Das Trio ist im (ebenfalls auf imslp verfĂŒgbaren) Original auf drei Systemen gedruckt, die anderen fĂŒnf StĂŒcke auf zwei. Die Choralbearbeitungen sind offenkundig teils pedaliter, teils manualiter zu spielen, die Fuge wohl manualiter. Allerdings nehme ich am SchluĂ fĂŒr einige Takte doch das Pedal zuhilfe. Leicht zu spielen ist die Fuge eher nicht. Beim Einstudieren muĂte ich öfters an die implizite Frage der anonymen Besprechung denken, ob wohl Herr Conrad ein ebenso geschickter Spieler wie Komponist sei â vermutlich hat der Rezensent die StĂŒcke auch ausprobiertâŠ
Edit: Biographical details on J.C. Conrad are now available here. â Probably in 1770 Breitkopf in Leipzig published a volume of music entitled Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, von Johann Christoph Conrad, Organisten zu Eisfeld (Preludes of Divers Kinds for the Organ, by Johann Christoph Conrad, Organist in Eisfeld). No year of publication is indicated. In his Musical Almanack for Germany for the Year 1782 Johann Nicolaus Forkel lists this publication as having appeared in 1772 (p.59) and elsewhere praises Conrad as âhaving shown by his preludes that he knows how to compose in proper taste for the organâ (p.120). However the year given by Forkel must be wrong, since a review of Conradâs preludes already appeared on p.322 of the Musikalische Nachrichten und Anmerkungen auf das Jahr 1770. Ein und vierzigstes StĂŒck (Musical News and Observations for the Year 1770. Forty-first instalment), published in Leipzig on 8 October 1770.
The anonymous reviewer likewise praises Conrad: âIt is with pleasure that amidst the multitude of galant composers of keyboard music ⊠we have encountered a man who captures our attention with a small collection of organ pieces that to accomplished organists may be recommended as as an example worthy of imitation, and to beginners on the organ as worthy of being practised, and studied assiduously. The organist of Eisfeld, a not very considerable town near Coburg, has had printed by Herr Breitkopf here in Leipzig [there follows the title of the volume]. These preludes are such that if Herr Conradâs abilities as a player match his abilities as a composer he deserves the organistship of one of the foremost free cities of the [Holy Roman] empire.â The reviewer highlights Conradâs mastery of the âpure contrapuntal mode of writingâ that is âso appropriate for the organâ but from which the galant composers [i.e. the adherents of the fashionable âstyle galantâ] âmove ever further awayâ. The reviewer comments briefly on the individual pieces in the collection. About the one recorded here he says: âA fugue in c minor, rich in harmony, in segmentations, in inversions of the theme, concludes the volume.â
Forkel sometimes gives a composerâs year of birth but evidently did not know Conradâs. I have not so far been able to find it either. What I could find out is that Conrad was born in Eisfeld as the son of a baker, went to the local grammar school (lateinschule) and obtained the organistship of the stadtkirche (the townâs principal church) in March 1740 (J.W. Krauss, Antiquitates et Memorabilia Historiae Franconicae, Darinnen insonderheit der Ursprung, Einrichtung und MerckwĂŒrdigkeiten der Stadt EiĂfeld ⊠abgehandelt werden, Hildburghausen 1753, pp.227, 275). The year of Conradâs death also so far remains elusive. âHerr Conradi, organist in Eisfeldâ (the spelling âConradiâ is also that in one of the two mentions of the organist in Krauss) appears in 1784 in the list of subscribers of a learned publication entitled Neue Sammlung geographisch-historisch-statistischer Schriften. Volume the third. This deals with the history and geography of the various parts of Germany. The list contains the names of subscribers added since this multi-volume series got under way; among them a second Herr Conradi, âmerchant in Eisfeldâ. The last edition of Forkelâs almanack, for 1789 and probably printed in 1788, still lists Conrad as the organist in Eisfeld. Clearly he took up the post as a young man, which makes it plausible that he must have been born around 1720.
Conradâs volume contains four chorale preludes, a non-chorale-based trio and the fugue. All are available on imslp.com . My recordings of all six pieces can be found here.
In the original edition (also on imslp) the trio is printed on three staves and everything else on two. For some, though not all of the chorale preludes you clearly need pedals. The fugue seems to be for manuals only; however for the sake of convenience I do play some bass notes on the pedals at the end. It is not an easy piece to play. While learning it I kept thinking of the implicit question posed in the anonymous review â whether Conrad was as good at playing the organ as he was at composing for it. Presumably the reviewer tried those pieces tooâŠ
Johann Christoph Conrad (1722 -84): Jesu meine Freude (1)(Velesovo)
(English below) Biographisches zu J.C. Conrad siehe jetzt hier. â Die zweite meiner Einspielungen der sechs Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, die J.C. Conrad 1770 bei Breitkopf in Leipzig drucken lieĂ und die von Kritikerseite Lob einheimsten: namentlich von Johann Nicolaus Forkel und dem anonymen Rezensenten der Leipziger Musikalischen Nachrichten. Hinsichtlich dieser Beurteilungen und dessen, was ich ĂŒber die Biographie Conrads habe ermitteln können, verweise ich auf die Videobeschreibung zu meiner Einspielung seiner Fuga c-moll. Die komplette Liste meiner Conrad-Einspielungen findet sich hier.
Wie in der anderen Videobeschreibung zitiert lobt der Rezensent der Musikalischen Nachrichten, daĂ Conrad nicht den modischen âgalantenâ, sondern den der Orgel angemesseneren âgebundenenâ, also kontrapunktischen Stil pflegt. Zu dem eingespielten Werk sagt er: âDerâŠChoral: Jesu meine Freude, ist thematisch, vermittelst eines doppelten Contrapunktes ausgefĂŒhrt. Die Erfindung ist ĂŒberaus glĂŒcklich, und die Ausarbeitung ungemein sorgfĂ€ltig und fleiĂig.â Gleiches gelte fĂŒr eine zweite Bearbeitung derselben Melodie wie auch die weiteren beiden in dem Band enthaltenen Choralvorspiele. âEs ist dem Herrn Conrad nicht gleich viel, was fĂŒr einen Gedanken er zu seinem Vorspiele ergreift; es muĂ immer ein Gedanke seyn, den er durch die ganze Melodie des Chorals hindurch brauchen kann; und, wie uns dĂŒnkt, ist das die rechte und beste Art.â
Auch dieses StĂŒck habe ich neu gesetzt und bei imslp.com eingestellt. Bei der Arbeit daran fiel stark auf, wie ungewöhnlich herb die von Conrad verwendeten Harmonien sind. Im Kontext klingen sie logisch. Jeweils fĂŒr sich betrachtet aber lieĂen sie mich dutzende Male stutzen: das meint er doch nicht ernst? Keineswegs unpassend versieht Conrad das ganze Elaborat mit der eigentĂŒmlichen Spielanweisung âMuthigâ!
Vielleicht auch als Folge meines hier laufenden Projekts, die sechs Vorspiele sowohl neu zu edieren und online zur VerfĂŒgung zu stellen als auch einzuspielen, ist mir inzwischen der unermĂŒdliche Pierre Gouin in Kanada zuvorgekommen und hat den Notentext aller sechs StĂŒcke in neuer Edition bei imslp veröffentlicht. Gouin geht dabei davon aus, daĂ alle vier Conradschen Choralvorspiele, darunter dieses, manualiter ausfĂŒhrbar sind. Thorsten Pirkl hat das hier dargebotene Werk ebenfalls eingespielt (auf demselben Kanal auch Aufnahmen der anderen drei Choralvorspiele), dabei jedoch dem Pedal den Cantus firmus zugewiesen statt wie ich die untere Begleitstimme. HĂ€tte man kein Pedal zur VerfĂŒgung, wĂ€re die Gouinâsche manualiter-Version die einzige Option; hĂ€tte man nur ein Manual, wĂ€re die Version mit dem C.f. im Pedal angebracht. Gouin bietet fĂŒr zwei weitere der Vorspiele alternativ zur manualiter-Variante eine solche, die â wie ich hier â eine der Begleitstimmen ins Pedal setzt (fĂŒr das hier zu hörende StĂŒck verzichtet Gouin darauf, wohl angesichts meiner bereits vorhandenen Fassung). Alle diese Lesarten der Druckausgabe von 1770, die die Choralvorspiele sĂ€mtlich auf nur zwei Systemen notiert, sind legitim. Ich glaube aber doch, daĂ die von mir eingespielte die vorrangig gemeinte ist. Besonders scheint mir das aus dem Lauf im BaĂ in Takt 35 (hier @ 4:04) zu erhellen â natĂŒrlich kann man das ohne weiteres manualiter spielen, aber es ist eine ganz typische Pedalfigur!
âJesu meine Freudeâ ist in meinen Ohren kein sonderlich anziehendes Kirchenlied, aber bei damaligen Organisten (deren Einkommen im protestantischen Deutschland zu einem betrĂ€chtlichen Teil auf ihrer LehrtĂ€tigkeit fĂŒr den dazu unter Vertrag genommenen Organisten-Nachwuchs beruhte) war es meinem Eindruck nach ziemlich beliebt â wohl, weil die lange und komplizierte Melodie besondere Möglichkeiten und Herausforderungen bietet. Die Produktion von Choralvorspielen verfolgte zur damaligen Zeit ja ĂŒblicherweise nicht den Zweck, anderen Material zum Literaturspiel an die Hand zu geben. Vielmehr dienten sie traditionell der Ausbildung, als Vorbilder â wie der zitierte anonyme Rezensent auch schreibt: mit Conrad habe man âeinen Mann kennen gelernt, der mit einer kleinen Sammlung von OrgelstĂŒcken auftritt, welche man geĂŒbten Organisten zum Muster und zur Nachahmung, AnfĂ€ngern im Orgelspielen aber zur Ăbung und fleiĂiger Betrachtung empfehlen kann.â Von daher erklĂ€rt sich wohl, daĂ Conrad, in einer Sammlung von nur sechs StĂŒcken, gerade âJesu meine Freudeâ gleich zweimal zum Gegenstand der kompositorischen Auseinandersetzung macht.
Biographical details on J.C. Conrad are now available here. â This recording replaces an earlier one which had some interesting feedback, here taken into account. â The second of my series of recordings of the Six Preludes of Divers Kinds for the Organ that Johann Christoph Conrad published with Breitkopf in Leipzig in 1770 and which earned him critical praise â specifically from Johann Nicolaus Forkel and from the anonymous reviewer of the Leipzig Musikalische Nachrichten. For their remarks and for those elements of Conradâs biography that I have been able to determine see the video description of my rendering of his c minor fugue. The complete playlist of my Conrad recordings is here.
As quoted in the other video description the reviewer of the Musikalische Nachrichten notes with approval that Conrad eschews the fashionable style galant in favour of the contrapuntal writing that the reviewer deems more appropriate for the organ. About the work recorded here the reviewer has this to say: âTheâŠchorale: Jesu meine Freude is executed thematically by means of a double counterpoint. The musical idea is exceedingly felicitous, and its elaboration, extraordinarily meticulous and thorough.â According to the reviewer that is also true of the other arrangement of the same tune as well as the other two chorale preludes that the volume contains. âFor Herr Conrad it is not a matter of indifference what kind of idea he employs for his prelude; it always must be an idea that he can use for the hymn tune in its entirety; which, it seems to us, is the proper and best way.â
This piece too I have reset and uploaded on imslp.com . Working on it I kept being struck by how severe the harmonies used by Conrad are. Heard in the context of the piece as a whole they sound logical. Looked at individually they kept giving me pause: surely he canât mean that? am I misreading this, or is it perhaps a misprint? Not inappropriately Conrad instructs the player to perform the piece âWith Courageâ ( Muthig )!
Possibly in part as a result of this ongoing project of mine: of reediting these six pieces and uploading the scores as well as providing Youtube recordings of them, the indefatigable Pierre Gouin in Canada has now beat me to it by uploading his own edition of Conradâs complete volume. Gouin takes the view that all four of Conradâs chorale preludes can be played on manuals alone. Thorsten Pirkl has likewise recorded the work presented here (on the same channel you will also find performances of the other three chorale preludes), and has assigned to the pedals not the lower one of the two accompanying voices, but the cantus firmus. If one had no pedals, the manualiter version offered by Gouin would be the only option; if one lacked a second manual then playing the cantus firmus with the pedals might be the best option. For two of the four chorale preludes Gouin in addition to the manualiter versions also offers versions assigning one of the accompanying voices to the pedals, just as I have done here (for the piece heard here Gouin only provides the manualiter version, presumably because my own pedaliter version was already online). All these variant readings of the 1770 printed score, which notates all the chorale preludes on only two staves, are legitimate. I nevertheless believe that my version is the one that Conrad had primarily in mind. The best clue is provided by the bass run in measure 35 (here @ 4:04) â of course you can play this manualiter, but it is such a typical pedal figure!
To my ears âJesu meine Freudeâ is not a particularly attractive hymn, but it seems that 18th-c. organists (whose income, in Protestant Germany, derived to a considerable extent from training articled pupils) were rather fond of it â presumably because the long and complicated tune offers special opportunities and challenges. At that period the production of chorale preludes did not usually aim to provide literature for others to play; rather, they were intended for training purposes. As the anonymous reviewer writes: Conrad had contributed âa small collection of organ pieces that to experienced players may be recommended as examples for imitation, and to beginners as worthy of practice and assiduous study.â This may explain why, out of only six pieces, âJesu meine Freudeâ was chosen to illustrate Conradâs skill as a composer not once but twice.
Johann Christoph Conrad (1722 -84): Gott des Himmels und der Erden (Velesovo)
(English below) Die dritte meiner Einspielungen der sechs Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, die Johann Christoph Conrad 1770 bei Breitkopf in Leipzig drucken lieĂ und die von Kritikerseite Lob einheimsten: namentlich von Johann Nicolaus Forkel und dem anonymen Rezensenten der Leipziger Musikalischen Nachrichten. Hinsichtlich dieser Beurteilungen und dessen, was ich ĂŒber die Biographie Conrads habe ermitteln können, verweise ich auf die Videobeschreibung zu meiner Einspielung seiner Fuga c-mollâ [und siehe weiter unten die Videobeschreibung zu âJesu meine Freude (2)â]. Die komplette Liste meiner Conrad-Einspielungen findet sich hier. Wie in der anderen Videobeschreibung zitiert lobt der Rezensent der Musikalischen Nachrichten, daĂ Conrad nicht den modischen âgalantenâ, sondern den der Orgel angemesseneren âgebundenenâ, also kontrapunktischen Stil pflegt. Die Choralvorspiele seien âthematisch, vermittelst eines doppelten Contrapunktes ausgefĂŒhrt. Die Erfindung ist ĂŒberaus glĂŒcklich, und die Ausarbeitung ungemein sorgfĂ€ltig und fleiĂigâŠEs ist dem Herrn Conrad nicht gleich viel, was fĂŒr einen Gedanken er zu seinem Vorspiele ergreift; es muĂ immer ein Gedanke seyn, den er durch die ganze Melodie des Chorals hindurch brauchen kann; und, wie uns dĂŒnkt, ist das die rechte und beste Art.â
The third of my series of recordings of the Six Preludes of Divers Kinds for the Organ that Johann Christoph Conrad had printed by Breitkopf in Leipzig in 1770 and which earned him critical praise â specifically from Johann Nicolaus Forkel and from the anonymous reviewer of the Leipzig Musikalische Nachrichten. For their remarks and for those elements of Conradâs biography that I have been able to determine see the video description of my performance of his C Minor fugue [and see the video description for âJesu meine Freude (2)â, below]. The complete playlist of my Conrad recordings is here. As quoted in the other video description the reviewer of the Musikalische Nachrichten notes with approval that Conrad eschews the fashionable style galant in favour of the contrapuntal writing that the reviewer deems more appropriate for the organ. About the chorale preludes he says that they are âexecuted thematically by means of a double counterpoint. The musical idea is exceedingly felicitous, and its elaboration, extraordinarily meticulous and thoroughâŠ.For Herr Conrad it is not a matter of indifference what kind of idea he employs for his prelude; it always must be an idea that he can use for the hymn tune in its entirety; which, it seems to us, is the proper and best way.â
Johann Christoph Conrad (1722 -84): O Jesu du edle Gabe (Velesovo)
(English below) Die vierte meiner Einspielungen der sechs Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, die Johann Christoph Conrad 1770 bei Breitkopf in Leipzig drucken lieĂ und die von Kritikerseite Lob einheimsten: namentlich von Johann Nicolaus Forkel und dem anonymen Rezensenten der Leipziger Musikalischen Nachrichten. Hinsichtlich dieser Beurteilungen und dessen, was ich ĂŒber die Biographie Conrads habe ermitteln können, verweise ich auf die Videobeschreibung zu meiner Einspielung seiner âFuga c-mollâ: https://youtu.be/cpntOQIW7Qk. Die komplette Liste meiner Conrad-Einspielungen findet sich hier: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?listâŠ
Das hier eingespielte StĂŒck ist ein Bicinium, d.h. es hat nur zwei Stimmen â die Choralmelodie und eine einzige Begleitstimme. Allgemein stehe ich diesem Typus skeptisch gegenĂŒber, die zweistimmige Faktur wirkt auf mich oft einfach zu dĂŒnn. Hier allerdings bin ich fasziniert. âEs istâ, lobt der Rezensent der Musikalischen Nachrichten, âdem Herrn Conrad nicht gleich viel, was fĂŒr einen Gedanken er zu seinem Vorspiele ergreift; es muĂ immer ein Gedanke seyn, den er durch die ganze Melodie des Chorals hindurch brauchen kannâ.
Das kann man wohl sagen: zu der vorgegebenen Choralmelodie ergreift der Herr Conrad im vorliegenden Fall einen höchst einprĂ€gsamen Gedanken und fĂŒhrt ihn in einer Weise durch, die nicht nur konsequent, sondern insistierend genannt werden darf. Hinzu kommt der geradezu bizarre Kontrast zwischen dieser munter, ja kauzig-frivol hĂŒpfenden Begleitfigur und dem schwermĂŒtig-frommen Liedtext mit seiner drastischen barocken Sprache. Ist da Ironie intendiert? Ich weiĂ es nicht. Möglicherweise ist das StĂŒck anders gemeint, als ich es hier interpretiere: man könnte es viel langsamer spielen und die Begleitstimme zurĂŒckhaltender registrieren. Aber warum dann die Spielanweisung âVergnĂŒglichâ? Könnte man den Liedtext, dessen dritte Zeile ja von âFreudeâ spricht, nicht auch so auffassen? Kaum: dazu ist in den zehn Strophen einfach zu viel von Jesu Blut, Höllenfeuer und ewiger Verdammnis die Rede. Vielleicht erweist sich hier einfach einmal mehr, daĂ damaligen Komponisten von Choralvorspielen der Choral als solcher oft ziemlich egal war, ohne RĂŒcksicht auf den Text nur die Melodie als musikalisches Material verwertet wurde. Wie in der Videobeschreibung zu Conrads âJesu meine Freude (1)â dargelegt [s.o.] fanden Choralvorspiele der Zeit in aller Regel wohl keine liturgische Verwendung, sondern dienten der musikalischen Ausbildung.
Damit stellt sich zugleich die Frage nach den Kriterien, die Conrad bei der Auswahl seiner Melodien leiteten. DaĂ er in seinen vier veröffentlichten Choralvorspielen âJesu meine Freudeâ gleich zweimal verarbeitet, habe ich damit zu erklĂ€ren versucht, daĂ die Melodie eine besondere kompositorische Herausforderung darstellt, weil sie eher kompliziert und zudem lang ist â 6 Melodiezeilen. Genau das gilt auch fĂŒr âJesu du edle Gabeâ: schwierige Melodie und 6 Melodiezeilen (daĂ das StĂŒck ziemlich kurz ist, liegt daran, daĂ bei diesem Lied die meist anzutreffende Wiederholung des ersten Melodieteils entfĂ€llt). Hinzu kommt, daĂ, wie Conrads Zeitgenosse Johann Philipp Kirnberger in Die Kunst des reinen Satzes erlĂ€utert, Bicinien trotz der reduzierten Stimmenzahl eben nicht einfacher zu schreiben sind: âDer zweystimmige Satz ist der schwerste von allen, und kann nicht eher vollkommen gut gemacht werden, als bis man eine völlige KenntniĂ des vierstimmigen Satzes hat.â Dagegen ist die Melodie zu âGott des Himmels und der Erdenâ so gefĂ€llig wie schlicht und mit 4 Melodiezeilen kĂŒrzer. Sie steht auch als einzige der drei Choralmelodien in Dur â vielleicht wollte Conrad ein freundlicher wirkendes Lied dabeihaben.
Die Noten der Conradschen Vorspiele sind bei imslp.com verfĂŒgbar.
The fourth of my series of recordings of the Six Preludes of Divers Kinds for the Organ that Johann Christoph Conrad had printed by Breitkopf in Leipzig in 1770 and which earned him critical praise â specifically from Johann Nicolaus Forkel and from the anonymous reviewer of the Leipzig Musikalische Nachrichten. For their remarks and for those elements of Conradâs biography that I have been able to determine see the video description of my performance of his âFuga c-mollâ: https://youtu.be/cpntOQIW7Qk. The complete playlist of my Conrad recordings is here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJQG183QhFpA1khWtNsZmdi8dIVDOXR18
The piece recorded here is a bicinium, that is, there are only two parts â the hymn tune and a single accompanying voice. It is not a type I am generally very fond of: to me the two-part texture often sounds simply too thin. But here I am fascinated. âFor Herr Conradâ, says the reviewer of the Musikalische Nachrichten, âit is not a matter of indifference what kind of idea he employs for his prelude; it always must be an idea that he can use for the hymn tune in its entirety.â
Indeed: in this instance Herr Conrad combines the hymn tune with a quite memorable idea for the accompaniment and then executes that idea in a most consistent manner, or perhaps âinsistentâ would be the better epithet. Add to that the somewhat bizarre contrast between this bouncy, indeed almost frivolous-sounding accompanimental pattern and the darkly pious lyrics of the chorale with their drastic baroque diction. (âO Jesu thou noble gift / With thy blood delect me: / That is the fount of my delight / And ever the pasture of my soul. / Thy blood washes me of my sins / And quenches the fires of hell.â For once I have been unable to find an English verse translation.) Is a degree of irony intended here? I cannot tell. Perhaps the piece is meant to be rendered differently from the way I do here: you could play it much more slowly and choose a more restrained registration for the accompaniment. But then why does Conrad instruct you to play it âvergnĂŒglichâ, âpleasurablyâ? Could the lyrics, which after all feature âFreudeâ / âdelightâ, be interpreted as joyful? Hardly: the last two lines, about âbloodâ and âsinsâ and the âfires of hellâ, are repeated at the end of each of the ten stanzas, and the main theme of the hymn is really fear of eternal damnation. Perhaps then this is just another indication that composers of chorale prelude at that time often took no account of the lyrics of a hymn at all but simply used the tune as musical material. As explained in the video description of my recording of Conradâs âJesu meine Freude (1)â [see above] baroque chorale preludes probably never had a liturgical function but served solely for musical training purposes.
This in turn raises the question of which criteria guided Conrad in choosing the tunes he did. I have hypothesised that if in his four published chorale preludes he employs âJesu meine Freudeâ twice it could be because the tune is challenging: rather complicated, and long, consisting as it does of six melodic lines. The same is true of âJesu du edle Gabeâ: unwieldy tune and six melodic lines (the comparative shortness of the piece is due to the fact that unlike most German hymn tunes in this one the first part of the tune is not repeated). In addition it is not the case that bicinia are easier to write. On the contrary. Conradâs contemporary Johann Philipp Kirnberger explains in his Die Kunst des reinen Satzes (The Art of Strict Musical Composition) that âThe two-part setting is the most difficult of all, and cannot be brought to perfection unless one has previously achieved a full mastery of the four-part setting.â By contrast the tune of âGott des Himmels und der Erdenâ is as engaging as it is simple, with only four melodic lines. Of the three tunes it is also the only one in a major key â perhaps Conrad wanted to include at least one happy-sounding piece among his chorale preludes.
The music for this and the other five pieces published by Conrad may be found on imslp.com.
Johann Christoph Conrad (1722 -84): Trio in D fĂŒr Orgel (Velesovo)
(English below) Das hier eingespielte StĂŒck ist unter Johann Christoph Conrads sechs veröffentlichten Vorspielen eines von zwei âfreienâ, d.h. nicht choralgebundenen â das andere ist die Fuge c-moll. Als einziges der sechs Vorspiele steht es im Originaldruck auf drei Systemen, d.h. der Pedalpart ist als solcher eindeutig festgelegt â anders als bei den choralgebundenen StĂŒcken, bei denen nur zwei Systeme verwendet sind, wobei offen bleibt, welche der Stimmen im Pedal gespielt werden soll (wenn ĂŒberhaupt: wie in den Videobeschreibungen der entsprechenden Aufnahmen erlĂ€utert, wĂ€re es zur Not auch möglich, alle diese Choralvospiele rein manualiter auszufĂŒhren).
Das hier eingespielte âTrioâ (meine Bezeichnung, im Originaldruck hat es keinen Titel) bestĂ€rkt mich in meiner Auffassung, daĂ bei den Choralvorspielen vorrangig die BaĂstimme dem Pedal zugedacht ist, obwohl sie dann wegen der vielen SprĂŒnge nicht ganz leicht auszufĂŒhren ist. Denn hier, wo der Pedalpart festgelegt ist, finden sich diese SprĂŒnge, unter Ausnutzung aller beider Pedaloktaven, ebenfalls.
Dies ist die fĂŒnfte meiner Einspielungen der sechs Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, die Conrad 1770 bei Breitkopf in Leipzig drucken lieĂ.
Among the six published pieces by Johann Christoph Conrad this is one of two that are not hymn-based â the other is the fugue in c minor. And it is the only one of the six that in the original edition is printed on three staves, thereby unmistakably assigning the bass line to the pedals. By contrast the chorale preludes are printed on two staves, leaving open the question which of the parts is to be played on the pedals (if any: as noted in the video descriptions of the relevant pieces it is even possible to play them on manuals alone, if necessary).
The âtrioâ heard here (the title is mine, in the original edition the piece has no title) reinforces my belief that in the chorale preludes too it is the bass line that is primarily intended for the pedals, even though the many jumps over wide intervals make it somewhat demanding. For here, where there is no doubt about which is the pedal part, these jumps are also found, with Conrad making full use of both octaves of the pedal board.
This is the fifth in my series of recordings of the Six Preludes of Divers Kinds for the Organ that Conrad had printed by Breitkopf in Leipzig in 1770.
Johann Christoph Conrad (1722 -84): Jesu meine Freude (2)(Velesovo)
(English below) Diese Aufnahme komplettiert meine Einspielung der sechs Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel, die Joh. Christoph Conrad 1770 in Leipzig in Druck gab: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?st=P⊠. In den Videobeschreibungen, vor allem zu der Fuga c-moll, hatte ich zusammengetragen, was aus gedruckten Quellen ĂŒber Conrad zu ermitteln war: so, daĂ er offenbar aus Eisfeld stammte, 1740 dort Organist wurde, 1784 noch in einer Subskriptionsliste erscheint und J.N. Forkel ihn noch in der Ausgabe 1788 seines Musikalischen Almanachs als Organisten in Eisfeld nennt. Ich vermutete, daĂ Conrad also um 1720 geboren sein dĂŒrfte und nach 1788 starb. Aber sollten vor Ort nicht weitere Informationen verfĂŒgbar sein?
Also wandte ich mich mit einer Anfrage an mehrere Adressaten dort: den Pfarrer, den Kirchenmusiker, stĂ€dtische Stellen. Monate vergingen ohne Antwort. Auf eine höfliche Erinnerung hin passierte wieder lange nichts. Von keinem der Adressaten habe ich je ein Wort gehört, obwohl Conrad mutmaĂlich auch in Eisfeld selbst in Vergessenheit geraten ist und man meinen könnte, daĂ der Hinweis auf ihn auch auf heimatkundliches Interesse stoĂen wĂŒrde. SchlieĂlich, als ich nicht mehr damit rechnete, meldete sich Klaus Pfrenger und stellte sich als Eisfelder Stadtchronist vor â die Ehefrau des Pfarrers habe ihm meine Mail ĂŒbergeben. Meine Annahme, die KirchenbĂŒcher existierten noch, war richtig â sie sind sogar digitalisiert worden.
Herzlichen Dank auch noch einmal an dieser Stelle an Herrn Pfrenger, der mir ausfĂŒhrliche genealogische und auch einige biographische Informationen zukommen lieĂ.
Danach wurde Johann Christoph Conrad am 5. Juni 1722 als Sohn des WeiĂbĂ€ckers Joh. Leonhard Conrad (25.2.1698 â 15.5.1772) und seiner Ehefrau Rosina Maria geb. MoĂer (1694 oder 95 â 25.6.1764) in Eisfeld geboren. Rosina Maria war Tochter eines TuchhĂ€ndlers in Hildburghausen, deshalb taucht offenbar ihr Geburtsdatum in den Eisfelder Unterlagen nicht auf, nur die Angabe, daĂ sie zur Zeit ihres Todes 69 Jahre alt war. Die Eltern hatten am 8. Juli 1721 geheiratet. Joh. Christoph absolvierte die Lateinschule in Eisfeld. Seine musikalische Ausbildung erhielt er offenbar bei Joh. Valentin Zöllner, der (nach Maren Goltz, Musiker-Lexikon des Herzogtums Sachsen-Meiningen, 2008) 1727 und 1758 in Hildburghausen als Hoforganist wie als âSilberdienerâ (Hofbeamter, der fĂŒr die Pflege des Silbergeschirrs verantwortlich ist) genannt wird. Zöllner starb 1771 in Hildburghausen, sein Geburtsdatum scheint unbekannt.
Im MĂ€rz 1740, mit 17 Jahren, trat Joh. Christoph die Nachfolge des verstorbenen Eisfelder Organisten Oswald Edelmann an. 1746 heiratete er Anna Margaretha Bauer, ihr Vater war âSchultheiĂ und Handelsmannâ in Heubach (gemeint wohl das Dorf rund 15km nördlich von Eisfeld). Die beiden hatten drei Kinder: Sophia Barbara (1747 â ? sie heiratete offenbar nach auswĂ€rts), Joh. Michael (1751-1805) und Joh. Friedrich (1756-1811). Als 1778 der Eisfelder Kantor Christian Fischer starb, folgte ihm Joh. Christoph nach, wĂ€hrend sein Ă€lterer Sohn Joh. Michael das Amt des Organisten ĂŒbernahm. Allerdings soll dieser nach seiner Anstellung mehrere Jahre zur Fortbildung in Hamburg verbracht haben â wann genau ist nicht angegeben, plausibel scheint, daĂ Joh. Christoph weiter selbst an der Orgel saĂ. Der jĂŒngere Sohn Joh. Friedrich lebte in Eisfeld als âHandelsmannâ.
1784 starb Johann Christoph âden 19. Januar Abends 5 Uhr und wurde, nachdem er den 22. Ejusd[em] [= desselben (Monats)] in die allhiesige groĂe Kirche getragen, worinnen von Herrn Vicar Trier die Predigt geschehen, sodann auf dem Gottesacker begraben, worauf die Parentation [Trauerrede] von Herrn Diacon Schwesinger ist gethan worden, aet[atis] [im Alter von] 61 Jahr 7 Monat und 17 Tage.â Weniger Aufhebens wurde 1791 um Ehefrau Anna Margaretha gemacht: âStarb d. 21. Febr. Nachmitt. 12 Uhr und wurde d. 23. FrĂŒh halb 8 Uhr in der Stille begraben. Ihres Alters 70 Jahre. Gestorben an der Brustwassersucht.â Da Johann Christoph wie erwĂ€hnt noch 1784 in der Subskriptionsliste einer auf mehrere BĂ€nde angelegten Publikation zur Geschichte und Geographie Deutschlands auftaucht, nehme ich an, daĂ sein Tod eher plötzlich als nach lĂ€ngerer Krankheit kam.
Auch das hier aufgenommene StĂŒck kuriert nicht meine Abneigung gegen den Choral âJesu meine Freudeâ â er ist mir einfach zu dröge und freud-LOS. Conrads streng kontrapunktische Bearbeitungen finde ich, wie der in den Videobeschreibungen schon wiederholt zitierte zeitgenössische Rezensent der Leipziger Musikalischen Nachrichten, aber aller Achtung wert. Nicht zuletzt gefĂ€llt mir, wie die drei Melodieteile (A-A-B) durch eine Skalenfigur verklammert sind, die schon vor Einsetzen des Cantus firmus am Ende der Einleitungstakte erklingt: (c)A-(c)A-(c)B (@1:37 â @2:41 â @3:46).
This recording completes my presentation of the six Vorspiele unterschiedener Art fĂŒr die Orgel (Preludes of Divers Kinds for the Organ) that Johann Christoph Conrad published in Leipzig in 1770: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJQG183QhFpA1khWtNsZmdi8dIVDOXR18 . In the video descriptions, especially that for the C Minor Fugue, I had compiled all the information about Conrad that I could find in printed sources. From these it was clear that he was a native of Eisfeld who became the organist of the townâs parish church in 1740. Since he appears in a subscription list of 1784 and J.N. Forkel still mentions him in the 1788 edition of his Musikalischer Almanach as organist in Eisfeld it could be assumed that he was born around 1720 and died sometime after 1788. But was it not likely that in Eisfeld itself more information might be found?
I explained this in an email that I sent to the minister as well as the current organist of the church and to various departments of the municipality. Months went by without a reply. When I sent a polite reminder again nothing happened for a long time. None of those who received the original email ever responded, even though Conrad has most likely been forgotten even in his hometown and it might be expected that information about him would be of interest from a local history as well as a musical point of view. But finally, when I had all but given up hope, Klaus Pfrenger contacted me and introduced himself as the town chronicler. He explained that the ministerâs wife had given him a copy of my email. My assumption that the parish records were extant proved correct â indeed they have even been digitised.
A cordial thank you once again to Herr Pfrenger, who in answer to my request provided copious genealogical and some biographical information.
So Johann Christoph was born in Eisfeld on 5 June 1722, the son of a baker, Johann Leonhard Conrad (25 February 1698 â 15 May 1772) and his wife Rosina Maria nĂ©e MoĂer (1694 or 95 â 25 June 1764). Rosina Maria was the daughter of a draper in Hildburghausen, which must be the reason why the date of her birth does not appear in the Eisfeld records â only her age, 69, at the time of her death. She and Johann Leonhard married on 8 July 1721. Johann Christoph attended the grammar school at Eisfeld and received his musical training from an organist named Zöllner. This must be Johann Valentin Z., who (according to Maren Goltz, Musiker-Lexikon des Herzogtums Sachsen-Meiningen, 2008) is mentioned in 1727 and again in 1758 as both court organist in Hildburghausen and keeper of the ducal silverware. Zöllner died in 1771 in Hildburghausen, the year of his birth seems unknown.
When the Eisfeld organist Oswald Edelmann died, Johann Christoph succeeded him in March 1740 at the age of 17. In 1746 he married Anna Margaretha Bauer, whose father had been a bailiff and tradesman at Heubach (presumably the village some 15km north of Eisfeld). There were three children: Sophia Barbara (1747 â ? she lived long enough to marry, but, it seems, someone from out of town), Johann Michael (1751-1805) and Johann Friedrich (1756-1811). At the death in 1778 of the director of music of the Eisfeld church, Christian Fischer, Johann Christoph succeeded to that post and his elder son became the organist. However, Johann Friedrich was granted a leave of absence of several years to perfect his musical training in Hamburg. It is not clear when this was, but it seems plausible to assume that his father continued to preside at the organ. The younger son, Johann Friedrich, was a tradesman in Eisfeld.
In 1784 Johann Christoph died, âon 19 January at five in the afternoon. On 22 January, he was borne into the parish church, where Curate Trier preached a sermon, following which he was buried in the graveyard [not, in Eisfeld, adjacent to the church], with Deacon Schwesinger giving the funeral oration. His age was 61 years 7 months and 17 days.â There was less fuss in 1791 for the widow, Anna Margaretha: âExpired 21 February at 12 p.m. and was quietly buried on 23 February at half past seven in the morning. Aged 70 years. Died of dropsy of the chest.â Since as mentioned Johann Christoph appears in 1784 in a printed subscription list for a series of volumes (some yet to be published) on the history and geography of Germany I suspect that his death was relatively sudden rather than preceded by a long illness.
The piece recorded here does not cure my dislike for the hymn on which it is based, and which I find singularly dreary. Yet like the contemporary reviewer of the Musikalische Nachrichten (a weekly printed in Leipzig) I am impressed by Conradâs contrapuntal skill. Among other clever details I like the way the three parts of the tune (A-A-B) are linked by a recurring scale motif first heard at the end of the introductory bars, just before the cantus fimus starts: (c)A-(c)A-(c)B (@1:37 â @2:41 â @3:46).
Johann Thielemann Cramer (1714-88): Jesus meine Zuversicht (Velesovo)
(English below) Wie im Video vermerkt werden die Lebensdaten von Johann Thielemann Cramer meist mit 1713-93 angegeben. Cramer, ĂŒber 50 Jahre Mitglied der Gothaer Hofkapelle (er bewarb sich dort 1736 und wird im Hofkalender von 1786 noch immer gefĂŒhrt) genoĂ zu Lebzeiten hohes Ansehen, doch ĂŒber Einzelheiten seiner Biographie und selbst die Lebensdaten ist aktuell nurmehr wenig VerlĂ€Ăliches zu ermitteln. Hier wartet ein lohnendes Forschungsprojekt. Was ich vorlĂ€ufig ĂŒber Cramer herausgefunden habe, ist in der Videobeschreibung meiner Einspielung von Cramers Orgelsonate C-Dur nachzulesen.
Cramer veröffentlichte eine Anzahl seiner Kompositionen, nĂ€mlich Lieder und Werke fĂŒr Tasteninstrument allein. Letztere sind sĂ€mtlich manualiter darstellbar, auch die beiden ausdrĂŒcklich als Orgelsonaten bezeichneten. Es ist daher besonders interessant, hier auf ein Cramersches OrgelstĂŒck mit Pedalpart zu stoĂen. Das angesprochene hypothetische Forschungsprojekt sollte auch der Frage nachgehen, wo und in welchem Zusammenhang Cramer â offenbar Sohn eines Landorganisten und also von klein auf mit der Orgel vertraut â an der Orgel auftrat (bei der Gothaer Hofkapelle war er als SĂ€nger und Cembalist angestellt).
Das eingespielte Werk findet sich als Manuskript in der Staatsbibliothek Berlin, versehen mit einer besonderen Titelseite, auf der die Worte âVorspiel / ĂŒber / den Gesang / Jesus meine Zuversicht / auf / 2 Clavier / und Pedal / vor / die Orgel / von Cramerâ mit einem gewissen, wenn auch nicht ĂŒbertriebenen kalligraphischen Anspruch erscheinen. Der dreiseitige Notentext selbst ist nicht sonderlich kalligraphisch gestaltet, aber doch so sauber, daĂ jemand, der mit dem StĂŒck unvertraut ist, es sich daraus wohl ohne gröĂere Schwierigkeiten erarbeiten könnte â zumal das StĂŒck, fĂŒr die Zeit keineswegs selbstverstĂ€ndlich, auf drei Systemen notiert ist, der Pedalpart also gesondert und nicht zusammen mit dem fĂŒr die linke Hand. Der Notentext enthĂ€lt auch keinerlei Korrekturen. All das deutet darauf hin, daĂ die Abschrift nicht fĂŒr den Eigengebrauch des Schreibers bestimmt war. Von anderer Hand wurde vor âCramerâ ergĂ€nzt âJoh. Thielemannâ, unter dem Namen âin Gothaâ, noch weiter unten der Vermerk âEigene Handschrift des Componistenâ. Diese ZusĂ€tze stammen vermutlich mindestens teilweise von Georg Poelchau (1773-1836), ein zuletzt in Berlin ansĂ€ssiger Musiker und Sammler von Musikhandschriften, dessen NachlaĂ die Berliner Königliche Bibliothek (jetzt Staatsbibliothek) 1841 ankaufte.
(Der ursprĂŒngliche Text der Titelseite ist ĂŒberwiegend in âdeutscherâ â âgebrochenerâ â Schreibschrift gehalten, mit Ausnahme des âlateinischâ geschriebenen Wortes âPedalâ. Im Notentext erscheint zur Kennzeichnung des Cantus firmus mehrfach das Wort âChoralâ, auĂerdem der Vermerk âVolti subitoâ, d.h. âSofort umblĂ€tternâ, jeweils in âlateinischerâ â ârunderâ â Schreibschrift. Die unterschiedlichen Schrifttypen erklĂ€ren sich daraus, daĂ man, wie ebenso in Drucken, damals âdeutscheâ Worte oder selbst Wortteile in âdeutscherâ Schrift schrieb und Worte oder Wortteile lateinischen oder griechischen Ursprungs oder in romanischen Sprachen in âlateinischerâ Schrift. âClavierâ in âdeutscherâ statt âlateinischerâ Schrift auf der Titelseite ist dann allerdings ein Lapsus. Unklar scheint, ob die drei ZusĂ€tze auf der Titelseite: âJoh. Thielemannâ, âin Gothaâ und âEigene Handschrift des Componistenâ alle von derselben Person stammen. Der erste Zusatz ist in âdeutscherâ Schreibschrift gehalten, wenngleich der Buchstabe âaâ eher âlateinischâ aussieht, die beiden anderen in âlateinischerâ Schreibschrift. Die dem Digitalisat der Staatsbibliothek beigegebene bibliographische Information kennzeichnet nur den ersten Zusatz als möglicherweise von Poelchau.)
Die geforderten zwei Manuale mit Pedal standen Cramer in Gotha mehrfach zur VerfĂŒgung, nicht nur in den beiden Stadtkirchen, sondern auch schon etwa in der SchloĂkirche der herzoglichen Hauptresidenz SchloĂ Friedenstein mit der Orgel des dĂ€nischen Orgelbauers Severin Holbeck von 1692 (davon erhalten das GehĂ€use wie auch die jetzt stummen Prospektpfeifen, das Werk indes 1855 ersetzt). Wie im Video vermerkt ist es wahrscheinlich, daĂ Cramer das StĂŒck auf dieser Orgel spielte. TatsĂ€chlich wird er es wohl sogar fĂŒr dieses Instrument komponiert haben. Ich wunderte mich, daĂ das StĂŒck im Pedal das Cis der GroĂen Oktave erfordert, das Orgelbauer vor dem 19. Jahrhundert so gut wie immer weglieĂen. Wie sich herausstellt besaĂ es die Holbeck-Orgel aber (Christian Ahrens, âDie Holbeck-Orgel der Gothaer Schlosskirche im 18. Jahrhundertâ, Ars Organi 60 [2012]).
GroĂen Dank fĂŒr den Hinweis auf dieses StĂŒck schulde ich Peter Roberts â ebenso fĂŒr die zur VerfĂŒgung gestellte Transkription.
As noted in the video Johann Thielemann Cramer is commonly thought to have live from 1713 to 1793. A member of the Gotha court orchestra for over 50 years (he applied for a position there in 1736 and is still listed in the official court calendar for 1786), Cramer was highly regarded in his lifetime, yet details of his biography and even the dates of his birth and death are now shrouded in uncertainty. They would make a rewarding research project. What I have been able provisionally to find out about him can be found in the video description of my recording of his organ sonata in C major.
Cramer published a number of his compositions: songs, and works for solo keyboard. The latter can all be performed on manuals alone, even the two sonatas expressly intended for the organ. It is therefore especially interesting to encounter an organ piece by Cramer with a pedal part. The suggested research project would address the question of when and where Cramer â apparently the son of a village organist and hence familiar with the organ from an early age â might have performed on the organ (at the Gotha court he was employed as a singer and harpsichordist).
The piece recorded here is found in a manuscript owned by the Berlin Staatsbibliothek. This has a separate title page on which is written, in a hand that is somewhat though not overly calligraphic, âPrelude / on / the hymn / Jesus meine Zuversicht / for / 2 manuals / and pedals / for / the organ / by Cramerâ. The three-page score itself is not particularly calligraphic, yet neat enough to enable a player to learn the piece without any great difficulty â the more so as, still somewhat unusually for the period, it is written on three staves, with a separate staff for the pedal part rather than combining the pedal part and the part for the left hand on the lower staff of two. Moreover there are no corrections at all. All of this would seem to indicate that this manuscript was not intended for use by the copyist himself. On the title page another hand has added âJoh. Thielemannâ in front of âCramerâ as well as, below the name, âin Gothaâ, and at the bottom of the page âComposerâs autographâ. These additions were probably made at least in part by Georg Poelchau (1773-1836), a musician and collector in Berlin whose collection of musical manuscripts was purchased by the Berlin Royal Library (now the Staatsbibliothek) in 1841.
(For the original words of the title page âGermanâ cursive is used, except for the word âPedalâ, which is in âLatinâ cursive. In the score itself âLatinâ cursive is used for the word âChoralâ, which appears several times to indicate the cantus firmus, and for the indication âVolti subitoâ, i.e. âTurn the page immediatelyâ. This reflects the habit, still observed in 18th-c. Germany both in handwritten and in printed texts, to use âGermanâ script for words, or even parts of words, of German origin, and âLatinâ script for words, or parts of words, derived from Latin or Greek or in a Romance language. The use of âGermanâ cursive for the word âClavierâ on the title page is an inconsistency, presumably an oversight. It is not clear if all three additions: âJoh. Thielemannâ, âin Gothaâ and âEigene Handschrift des Componistenâ are by the same hand. The first is in âGermanâ cursive, though the letter âaâ looks âLatinâ rather than âGermanâ; the other two are in âLatinâ cursive. The bibliographical information accompanying the digitised images of the manuscript offered by the Staatsbibliothek describes only the first addition as possibly by Poelchau.)
The two manuals required by the piece were readily available in Gotha, not only in the townâs two main parish churches but also in the chapel of Schloss Friedenstein, the main ducal residence, which had an organ by the Danish builder Severin Holbeck of 1692 (of this the case with the front pipes â now no longer speaking â survives, whereas the instrument itself was replaced in 1855). I note in the video that it is likely Cramer played the piece on this organ. In fact it is even likely he composed it with this instrument in mind. I was puzzled that the score in fact requires a c sharp in the bottom octave of the pedals, which organ builders before the 19th c. almost always omitted. But as it turns out the Holbeck organ had it (Christian Ahrens, âDie Holbeck-Orgel der Gothaer Schlosskirche im 18. Jahrhundertâ, Ars Organi 60 [2012]).
Many thanks to Peter Roberts for drawing my attention to this piece, and for providing a transcription.
Johann Thielemann Cramer (1714-88): Orgel-Sonate C-Dur (Velesovo)
Allegro moderato â Adagio @6:08 â Allegro @7:51
(English below) Wer war Johann Thielemann Cramer? Aktuell sind unsere Kenntnisse ĂŒber diesen Gothaer Musiker, dessen âGelehrtheitâ und groĂe Bibliothek die Zeitgenossen beeindruckte, dĂŒrftig und teilweise widersprĂŒchlich. Geboren wurde er zweifelsfrei in dem thĂŒringischen Dorf BittstĂ€dt, nach verbreiteter Angabe 1713; er starb als wohl lĂ€nger schon emeritiertes Mitglied der Gothaer Hofkapelle, nach verbreiteter Angabe 1793. âVerbreitetâ heiĂt, daĂ diese Daten immer wieder abgeschrieben werden, nicht unbedingt, daĂ sie stimmen. Ernst Ludwig Gerber (Neues historisch-biographisches Lexikon der TonkĂŒnstler 1812), selbst ThĂŒringer und ĂŒber das dortige Musikleben gut informiert, rĂ€tselt bereits: gestorben sei Cramer âum [!] 1793â, und: âDa er sich schon 1754 in seiner Stelle zu Gotha befand, muĂ er als ein ziemlich betagter Mann gestorben sein.â In der 1840 erschienenen EncyclopĂ€die der gesammten musikalischen Wissenschaften heiĂt es dann schon (ohne âumâ, jedoch wohl nicht auf eigener Recherche beruhend) âEr starb als ein alter Mann 1793 zu Gotha.â Ein Geburtsjahr findet sich auch hier nicht; die Angabe 1713 hat sich seither offenbar eingebĂŒrgert, muĂ aber deswegen nicht zutreffen. Armin Fett in seiner Musikgeschichte der Stadt Gotha nennt anscheinend weder Geburts- noch Sterbejahr, weiĂ aber, daĂ Cramer, Gesangs- und KompositionsschĂŒler des Gothaer Kapellmeisters Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel, sich 1736 um eine Stelle als Sopranist in der herzoglichen Kapelle bewarb (er sang also Falsett) und 1745-65 als Musiklehrer der Kinder des Herzogs tĂ€tig war. (Fetts Dissertation von 1951 â sie reicht nur bis zum Tod Stölzels 1749 â lag mir nicht vor, seine Angaben zu Cramer finden sich zusammengefaĂt bei Anja Wehrend, MusikanschauungâŠder Herrnhuter BrĂŒdergemeine, 1995 S. 83). Hat niemand in etwa vorhandene KirchenbĂŒcher geschaut? Doch: der Heimatforscher und Hobbyhistoriker Dr. Adolf Gabler. Einer nur noch archiviert abrufbaren Seite im Netz zufolge ergaben dessen Recherchen im Pfarrarchiv Holzhausen (in BittstĂ€dt steht zwar seit jeher eine Kirche, zustĂ€ndig war aber auch im 18. Jh. der Pfarrer im benachbarten Holzhausen), daĂ Joh. Thielemann am 28. August 1714 in BittstĂ€dt als 6. Kind des Schullehrers und Organisten Joh. Andreas C. geboren wurde und am 2. April 1788 in Gotha starb. Kirchenrechnungen zufolge habe Lehrer Cramer diverses Notenmaterial fĂŒr sein Orgelspiel als auch fĂŒr den Kirchenchor ebenso angeschafft wie eine Notentafel fĂŒr den Schulunterricht. Joh. Thielemann sei, vom Vater musikalisch unterwiesen, als âAdiuvantâ (kirchlicher Laienmusiker, meist ein ChorsĂ€nger) tĂ€tig gewesen. Diese Angaben wĂ€ren zu ĂŒberprĂŒfen; die Lebensdaten scheinen mir aber zumindest nicht weniger glaubwĂŒrdig als die allgemein kolportierten.
Der Herzoglich-Sachsen-Gotha- und Altenburgische Hof- und AdreĂ-Calender auf das Jahr 1786 fĂŒhrt Cramer immer noch als âVocalistâ (SĂ€nger) der Hofkapelle. Es ist nicht anzunehmen, daĂ Cramer mit ĂŒber 70 noch als Falsettist auftrat. Erstens aber wurden in Gotha wie andernorts Hofmusiker ĂŒblicherweise bis an ihr Lebensende alimentiert, auch dann, wenn sie aus gesundheitlichen GrĂŒnden am Musizieren gehindert waren. Zweitens konnte Cramer offenbar nicht nur singen. Charles Burney nennt Gotha unter den Orten, die er auf seiner Reise durch Deutschland 1772 _nicht_ besuchte, schreibt aber: âZu Gotha ist eine gute Kapelle, welcher Herr Georg Benda als Kapellmeister vorsteht. Die vornehmsten Instrumentalisten darin sind die Hrn. Hattasch, Violinist, Kramer, Clavicimbalist [Cembalist], und Boehmer, Bassonist.â (Carl BurneyâsâŠTagebuch seiner musikalischen Reisen 3. Bd., ĂŒbers. Bode 1773). Der einzige âKramerâ in der Gothaer Kapelle war damals aber Joh. Thielemann. Zugleich gibt es Belege fĂŒr dessen TĂ€tigkeit als Spieler von Tasteninstrumenten, nicht zuletzt seine Kompositionen. Bereits 1761 veröffentlichte Birnstiel in Berlin eine âClaviersynfonieâ Cramers (âClavierâ konnte sich damals auf jedes Tasteninstrument beziehen, einschlieĂlich auch der Orgel). In seinem 1770 in Hamburg erschienenen Musikalischen Vielerley druckt C.P.E. Bach neben etlichen Liedern auch zwei âOrgel-Sonatenâ Cramers (darunter die eingespielte) sowie ein Menuett mit Trio fĂŒr Tasteninstrument. 1781 erschienen in Leipzig Variationen fĂŒr Tasteninstrument ĂŒber ein Thema der Herzogin Charlotte Amalie von Sachsen-Gotha-Altenburg: die Herzogin steuerte auch die ersten vier Variationen bei, Hofmusiker wie Kapellmeister Benda oder eben Cramer weitere (alle diese Drucke bei imslp.com, die beiden Sonaten in einer Neuausgabe von W. Poot erhĂ€ltlich). SchlieĂlich verfĂŒgt die Staatsbibliothek Berlin ĂŒber ein Autograph Cramers mit einem von ihm komponierten Choralvorspiel ĂŒber âJesus meine Zuversichtâ fĂŒr Orgel pedaliter, das ich hier vorstelle.
Who was Johann Thielemann Cramer? Our knowledge of this Gotha musician, whose erudition and extensive library impressed contemporaries, is currently very limited and in part contradictory. He was born in the Thuringian village of BittstĂ€dt (this at least seems certain), according to most sources in 1713; he died a â presumably retired â member of the ducal musical estalishment at Gotha, according to most sources in 1793. That most sources say so does not necessarily make these dates true; authors no doubt copied from each other. Ernst Ludwig Gerber (Neues historisch-biographisches Lexikon der TonkĂŒnstler 1812), Thuringian himself and an authority on the musical scene there, is already guessing: he states that Cramer died âabout [!] 1793â, and: âSince he was already in his post at Gotha in 1754, he must have died a fairly old man.â In the EncyclopĂ€die der gesammten musikalischen Wissenschaften of 1840 we read âHe died an old man at Gotha in 1793â. No more âaboutâ, yet I suspect that the compilers did not base this claim on any research but copied from Gerber. No more than Gerber do they provide a year of birth. 1713 is now usually given but I do not know on what evidence. Armin Fett in his Musikgeschichte der Stadt Gotha (Musical History of the Town of Gotha) apparently has no dates of birth or death but tells us that Cramer studied voice and composition with the then Gotha kapellmeister Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel; that in 1736 he applied for a position as sopranist at court; and that he was music teacher to the ducal children from 1745 to 1765. (I have not seen Fettâs 1951 book â a doctoral thesis which ends with Stölzelâs death in 1749 â but his information on Cramer is summarised in Anja Wehrend, MusikanschauungâŠder Herrnhuter BrĂŒdergemeine, 1995 p.83). What about parish records â has no one looked at those? Yes: a local amateur historian, Dr Adolf Gabler. According to a web page now only accessible in archived form his research in the parish archive at Holzhausen (BittstĂ€dt has always had its own church, but it was a dependency of the parish in neighbouring Holzhausen) found that Johann Thielemann was born on 28 August 1714 as the sixth child of Johann Andreas C., organist and school teacher at BittstĂ€dt, and that he died at Gotha on 2 April 1788. The parish accounts show that Cramer sen. purchased musical scores both for his organ playing and his church choir, as well as a board on which to write music for his classroom. Johann Thielemann, who must have received his first musical training from his father, was employed by him as an âadiuvantâ â a term that in protestant Germany designated a lay musician, usually a singer in a church chorale though they might also be instrumentalists. I cannot vouch for this information, which should be verified; yet there seems to be no reason to trust it less than the âtraditionalâ dates.
The official calendar of the Gotha court for 1786 continues to list Cramer as a singer with the court orchestra. It seems unlikely that Cramer, in his seventies, still performed as a sopranist. Yet not only were court musicians, at Gotha and elsewhere, normally paid a salary for life, even if ill health prevented them from performing, but Cramer had other talents apart from singing. Charles Burney lists Gotha among those places that during his trip through Germany he did not visit, yet writes: âAt Gotha there is a good band, over which M. George Benda presides, as maestro di capella . The principal performers are M. Hattasch, on the violin; Kramer, on the harpsichord; and Boehmer on the bassoon.â (The Present State of Music in Germany etc., vol. ii, London 1773, p.320). But the only âKramerâ then active as a court musician at Gotha was Johann Thielemann. That he was a keyboard player is also clear from his compositions. Already in 1761 Birnstiel in Berlin published a âclaviersynfonieâ by Cramer (âclavierâ at the time could refer to any keyboard instrument including the organ). C.P.E. Bach in his Musikalisches Vielerley published in Hamburg in 1770 included not only a number of songs by Cramer but also two âorgel-sonatenâ (organ sonatas) â among them the one recorded here â and a minuet with trio for keyboard. In 1781 there appeared in Leipzig a series of keyboard variations on a theme by Duchess Charlotte Amalie of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg: the duchess also provided the first four variations, while court musicians like Benda or indeed Cramer contributed their own. (All these publications can be found on imslp.com; the two organ sonatas are available in a modern edition by W. Poot). Finally, the Staatsbibliothek Berlin owns a Cramer autograph with a chorale prelude, composed by him, on Jesus meine Zuversicht for organ (pedaliter), which I present here.
Siegfried Wilhelm Dehn (1799-1858): Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir + Choral (A.W. Bach 1830)
Buchholz-Orgel Kronstadt (BraĆov, RumĂ€nien; 1839)(via Hauptwerk) From Depths of Woe I Cry to Thee | English below! â Siegfried Wilhelm (ursprĂŒnglich Samuel) Dehn war das mittlere von drei Kindern von Salomon Dehn und Sara Israel. Salomon stammte wohl aus Polen, fand, mittellos, Aufnahme bei der portugiesischen jĂŒdischen Gemeinde in Altona und speziell bei dem Kaufmann Salomon Israel, der den begabten jungen Mann schlieĂlich sowohl zum sehr erfolgreichen GeschĂ€ftspartner als auch zu seinem Schwiegersohn machte. (Auch Salomon Israel war mit einer geborenen Dehn verheiratet, die wohl aus Kopenhagen stammte â nahm der Schwiegersohn diesen Namen möglicherweise erst an?)
Der junge Samuel wuchs umgeben von einer Kunstsammlung und unterrichtet von einem privaten Musiklehrer auf. Das Wohnhaus in Altona, das sich Salomon D. 1797-98 von dem bekannten dĂ€nischen Architekten C.F. Hansen bauen lieĂ, wirkt indes nicht grandios. Anscheinend aufgrund der kriegerischen Ereignisse der Zeit ging Salomon 1813 bankrott, muĂte alle BesitztĂŒmer verkaufen. Dank seiner Freundschaft mit J.-B. Bernadotte, 1810 zum schwedischen Thronfolger berufen und damals französischer Gouverneur von Hamburg, wurde er zum schwedischen Konsul in Hamburg ernannt und spĂ€ter (wohl nachdem B. 1818 den Thron bestiegen hatte) als Direktor des schwedischen Bergbaus nach Stockholm berufen, wo er 1837 starb.
Wohl vor dem Hintergrund der wirtschaftlichen Krise des Vaters ist die Entscheidung zu sehen, Samuel zum Förster ausbilden zu lassen â eine Laufbahn, die er aufgrund einer SchuĂverletzung am FuĂ, die ihn zeitlebens behinderte, schnell wieder aufgab. Stattdessen studierte er 1819-23 in Leipzig Jura, schrieb Musikkritiken und nahm Unterricht bei dem Organisten der Peterskirche Joh. Andreas Dröbs (youtu.be/xbhyMESCqeI, youtu.be/eLD1l-UBjj0). Nach dem Studium lieĂ er sich in Berlin nieder. Irgendetwas hatte er dort mit der schwedischen Gesandtschaft zu tun, war zugleich fĂŒr den Vater tĂ€tig, nach einer Angabe in konsularischen Angelegenheiten, nach anderer fĂŒr dessen Bankhaus, von dem Wikipedia (Artikel S.W. Dehn) sagt, es sei 1830 in Konkurs gegangen. Dem Nachruf von B. Scholz zufolge (Niederrheinische Musikzeitung 6 [1858] S.161ff.) verlor D. 1829 (andernorts liest man 1830) sein gesamtes Vermögen und widmete sich fortan allein der Musik.
Als sein Instrument wird immer das Cello genannt. Er wird aber wohl auch Orgel gespielt haben. DafĂŒr spricht neben dem hier vorgestellten StĂŒck die fĂŒr dieses Video verwendete Abschrift von Friedemann Bachs OrgelchorĂ€len. Die Abschrift ist auf 1824 datiert und der Schreiber nennt sich âSWDehnâ â in einer offenbar eingeĂŒbten Unterschrift, wie sie auch auf dem PortrĂ€t in dem jetzt hochgeladenen Video zu sehen ist. SpĂ€testens 1824 muĂ er sich also haben taufen lassen â die Vornamen dĂŒrften die der Taufpaten sein.
Ob seines musikhistorischen Wissens bewundert, wurde D. auf FĂŒrsprache Alexander von Humboldts und Giacomo Meyerbeers 1842 Kustos der Musikaliensammlung der Berliner Königlichen Bibliothek (jetzt Staatsbibliothek), ein Amt, das fĂŒr ihn geschaffen wurde und das er mit Bravour ausfĂŒllte. Er war daneben als Musikjournalist, als Herausgeber (namentlich von Werken Orlando di Lassos und J.S. Bachs) und als begehrter Kompositionslehrer tĂ€tig. Zu seinen SchĂŒlern zĂ€hlen Michail Glinka, mit dem er in der Berliner MarienstraĂe zeitweilig fast TĂŒr an TĂŒr wohnte, Anton und Nikolai Rubinstein, Peter Cornelius, Immanuel FaiĂt.
1858 erlag D. einem Schlaganfall. Zu seiner Beerdigung âauf dem neuen Sophien-Kirchhofe vor dem Hamburger-Thoreâ (Scholz) sang der Domchor eine Motette von Mendelssohn. Das Grab ist nicht erhalten â ein Teil des Friedhofs lĂ€ngs der Bernauer StraĂe wurde in den 1960er Jahren dem âTodesstreifenâ der Berliner Mauer zugeschlagen und abgerĂ€umt.
Das einspielte Werk findet sich in der Sammlung Die Orgel-Componisten des 19.ten Jahrhunderts âŠ. Als National-Ehren-Denkmal fĂŒr den seligen Orgelmeister Rinck herausgegeben duch Carl Geissler. Die Sammlung erschien allerdings erst 1864: entweder hatte Geissler (youtu.be/z8hun3XedZM, youtu.be/-cJbHu-HzAw) mit den 115 StĂŒcken jahrelang zu tun, oder aber D.s Beitrag kam aus dem NachlaĂ. Wieder abgedruckt ist er in Organisten uit de 18e en 19e eeuw Bd. 1, ed. W. van Twillert, dort ĂŒberschrieben âChoralvorspiel und Choralâ. Allerdings findet sich nur das Vorspiel. HinzugefĂŒgt habe ich den Choral daher in der Harmonisierung von A.W. Bach aus dessen Berliner Choral-Buch von 1830. Daraus ergibt sich ein Kontrast: Bach ist hörbar bemĂŒht, dem âaltertĂŒmlichenâ Charakter von Luthers âphrygischerâ Choralmelodie Rechnung zu tragen, und doch klingt das Resultat ein biĂchen sĂŒĂlich. KompromiĂlos herb und dissonant dagegen D.s Fuge ĂŒber die erste Choralzeile.
Siegfried Wilhelm (originally: Samuel) Dehn was the middle child (of three) of Salomon Dehn and Sara Israel. Salomon, apparently arrived from Poland, joined the Portuguese Jewish community at Altona (a town very close to Hamburg, which has since gobbled it up). Salomon Israel, a merchant, took the gifted young man under his wing, making him his business partner (they were very successful) as well as his son-in-law. (The maiden name of Salomon Israelâs wife, who apparently came from Copenhagen, was also Dehn â did the son-in-law adopt this name?)
The Altona house that Salomon Dehn commissioned from the well-known Danish architect C.F. Hansen and into which the family moved in 1798 does not look especially grandiose. Yet Samuel grew up in affluent circumstances, surrounded by works of art and taught music by a private tutor. That came to an end in 1813 when, apparently as a result of the political upheaval accompanying the fall of Napoleon, Salomon Dehn went bankrupt and was forced to sell all his property. He was saved by his friendship with Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, named successor to the Swedish throne in 1810 and at that time French governor of Hamburg. Bernadotte had Salomon appointed Swedish consul in Hamburg and later â probably after he became king in 1818 â made him director of the Swedish mining agency. Salomon died in Stockholm in 1837.
Salomonâs bankruptcy may explain why the decision was taken to have Samuel train as a forest warden. But during a hunt he was shot (or shot himself?) in the foot â an injury that was to impair him to some extent for the rest of his life; and that was the end of that career. He studied law at Leipzig university from 1819 to 1823, while also writing reviews for music journals and taking lessons with the organist of St Peterâs Church, Johann Andreas Dröbs (youtu.be/xbhyMESCqeI, youtu.be/eLD1l-UBjj0). He then settled in Berlin, where he seems to have been somehow associated with the Swedish legation while also assisting his father â according to one source, with consular affairs, whereas according to another he worked for his fatherâs banking firm. According to the German Wikipedia article on him that banking firm collapsed in 1830. An obituary by B. Scholz (Niederrheinische Musikzeitung 6 [1858] p.161ff.) states that Dehn junior lost his entire fortune in 1829 (elsewhere the year 1830 is given) and thereupon decided to devote himself entirely to music.
His instrument is always stated to have been the cello. Yet no doubt he also played the organ: that is suggested not only by the piece recorded here, but also by the manuscript copy of Wilhelm Friedemann Bachâs organ chorales used for this video. This manuscript is dated 1824 and the copyist identifies himself as âSWDehnâ â in a stylised signature that matches the one in the portrait in the video presented here. So clearly by 1824 he had converted to christianity â the new forenames presumably those of his godfathers.
Admired for his encyclopedic knowledge of the history of music, in 1842 he was appointed custodian of the musical collections of the Royal Library in Berlin (now the Staatsbibliothek). This position, for which he was recommended by Alexander von Humboldt and by Giacomo Meyerbeer, was in fact created for him, and he filled it very successfully. At the same time he continued to work as a music journalist, as an editor (in particular of works by Orlando di Lasso and J.S. Bach), and as a much sought-after teacher of composition. Among his pupils were Mikhail Glinka (for some time Glinka and Dehn were neighbours in Berlinâs MarienstraĂe), Arthur and Nicolai Rubinstein, Peter Cornelius, Immanuel Faisst.
In 1858 Dehn suffered a fatal stroke. At his funeral the choir of Berlin cathedral sang an anthem by Mendelssohn. The grave has not survived (the cemetery adjoining the demarcation line between east and west Berlin, in the 1960s a portion of it became part of the âdeath stripâ of the Berlin Wall and was cleared).
The work recorded here was contributed to a collection called Die Orgel-Componisten des 19.ten Jahrhunderts âŠ. Als National-Ehren-Denkmal fĂŒr den seligen Orgelmeister Rinck herausgegeben duch Carl Geissler (The Organ Composers of the 19th CenturyâŠ. Compiled as a national memorial to the late master of the organ, Rinck, by Carl Geissler). This volume was only published in 1864. Either its 115 pieces kept Geissler (youtu.be/z8hun3XedZM, youtu.be/-cJbHu-HzAw) busy for years, or Dehnâs contribution came from his estate. It is reprinted in Organisten uit de 18e en 19e eeuw vol. 1, edited by W. van Twillert. It is there labelled âChoralvorspiel und Choralâ. But van Twillertâs volume only contains the vorspiel (prelude). I therefore added the âchoralâ (the hymn itself) in the harmonisation by A.W. Bach, from his Berliner Choral-Buch of 1830. The match is a slightly incongruous one. Bach is audibly at pains to do justice to the âarchaicâ feel of Lutherâs âPhrygianâ hymn tune; yet the result is still a little sugary. By contrast, Dehnâs fugue on the first line of the hymn is uncompromisingly austere and full of dissonance.
Otto Dienel (1839-1905): Lobt Gott ihr Christen (Velesovo)
(English below) Otto Dienel, 1839 im schlesischen Tiefenfurt (j. Parowa) geboren, studierte in den 1860er Jahren in Berlin am Institut fĂŒr Kirchenmusik â insonderheit bei dessen Direktor, dem Organisten der Berliner Marienkirche August Wilhelm Bach (1796-1869) â und an der Akademie der KĂŒnste. 1865 nahm er eine Anstellung als Organist der BartholomĂ€uskirche in Berlin-Friedrichshain an, wechselte bald an die Heiligkreuz-Kirche in Kreuzberg. 1869 ernannte ihn der Berliner Magistrat gegen den Willen des Kirchenvorstands zum Nachfolger Bachs als Marienorganist. Dienel hatte diese durchaus prestigetrĂ€chtige Stelle fĂŒr den Rest seines Lebens inne, wobei sein VerhĂ€ltnis zu den Gemeindeoberen konfliktlastig blieb. Ein Streitpunkt waren die wöchentlichen unentgeltlichen Orgelkonzerte, die Dienel in der Marienkirche veranstaltete und bei denen die Kirche oft offenbar brechend voll war (tempora mutanturâŠ). Dienels wohl bekanntester SchĂŒler war der spĂ€tere Organist bzw. Kantor der Leipziger Thomaskirche Karl Straube. Das eingespielte Werk stammt aus Dienels 43 Choralvorspielen fĂŒr Orgel zum Gebrauch im Gottesdienste op. 52. â Otto Dienel auf diesem Kanal: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?listâŠ
Otto Dienel was born in 1839 at Tiefenfurt (now Parowa) in Silesia. In the 1860s he went to Berlin to study at the Royal Institute of Church Music â in particular with its director August Wilhelm Bach (1796-1869), the organist of St Maryâs Church â and at the Royal Academy of Arts. In 1865 he became organist of St Bartholomewâs Church in Berlin-Friedrichshain before switching to Holy Cross Church in Kreuzberg. When A.W. Bach died in 1869 the city council apppointed Dienel his successor as organist of St Maryâs, against the wishes of the parish elders. Dienel kept this quite prestigious post for the rest of his life, despite continual disputes with the parish authorities. One bone of contention were the weekly free organ recitals that Dienel played at St Maryâs and which tended to fill the church to capacity or indeed beyond (tempora mutanturâŠ). Perhaps the best known of Dienelâs students was Karl Straube, later organist and then director of music of the Thomaskirche in Leipzig. The piece recorded here comes from Dienelâs 43 Chorale Preludes for Organ for Use in Divine Service op. 52. â Otto Dienel on this channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?listâŠ
Otto Dienel (1839-1905)/A.W. Bach (1796-1869): Liebster Jesu wir sind hier (Velesovo)
(English below) Otto Dienels Vorspiel zu Liebster Jesu (op.52 Nr. 17) ist so kurz, daĂ es auch hier sinnvoll schien, den eigentlichen Choral anzuhĂ€ngen, und dafĂŒr wieder bot sich der Choralsatz von August Wilhelm Bach (aus dessen Berliner Choral-Buch von 1830) an: war doch Bach Dienels VorgĂ€nger als Organist der Berliner Marienkirche. Kurios ist, daĂ der Choral im Viervierteltakt steht, Dienels Vorspiel jedoch im Dreivierteltakt! Was sich mir erst beim Blick auf die Noten offenbarte, musikalisch bleibt es zu meinem Erstaunen unauffĂ€llig.
Es gibt weitere StĂŒcke aus Dienels op. 52 auf diesem Kanal, ebenso weitere Einspielungen von ChoralsĂ€tzen aus dem Berliner Choral-Buch. Ăberdies ein Vorspiel des Berliner Zeitgenossen und Kollegen beider hier vertretener Organisten, Johann Julius Schneider, zum selben Choral. SchlieĂlich möchte ich hinweisen auf die Playlists zur Berliner Orgelmusik des 17. , 18. und 19. Jahrhunderts.
Otto Dienelâs prelude on Liebster Jesu (op.52 no.17) is so short that it made sense to attach the chorale proper, and for that the harmonisation by August Wilhelm Bach (from his Berliner Choral-Buch of 1830) was the obvious choice, given that Bach was Dienelâs predecessor as organist of St Maryâs Church in Berlin. Oddly the hymn is in common time, but Dienelâs prelude is in triple time! I only realised this when I put the scores side by side â musically, to my astonishment, I never noticed anything unusual.
You will find further pieces from Dienelâs op. 52 on this channel, as well as further settings from the Berliner Choral-Buch. Also a prelude on the same hymn by a Berlin contemporary and organist colleague of the two gentlemen featured here, Johann Julius Schneider. And let me point you to the playlists with Berlin organ music of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries.
Johann Andreas Dröbs: Freu dich sehr o meine Seele (Velesovo)
(English below) Sohn eines Lehrers, besuchte J.A. Dröbs das Gymnasium in Erfurt und wurde dort an der Orgel unterrichtet von dem BachschĂŒler Johann Christian Kittel. Er arbeitete als Musiklehrer, ging 1808 nach Leipzig und wurde dort 1810 Organist der (alten) Peterskirche. Dieses 1507 geweihte GebĂ€ude diente nach der Reformation profanen Zwecken (u.a. als Kalkscheune), wurde aber angesichts der zunehmend dichten Besiedlung der Umgebung (unmittelbar hinter dem Peterstor, einem der vier inneren Stadttore, zwischen PleiĂenburg â jetzt Rathaus â und Moritzbastei) von 1712 an wieder fĂŒr Gottesdienste genutzt. Mehrfache Umbauten im 18. Jh. zumal durch Einbau weiterer Emporen steigerten das Fassungsvermögen der Kirche stetig. 1799 wurde eine neue Orgel der GebrĂŒder Trampeli installiert (20 / ii+P). Angesichts weiteren Bevölkerungswachstums wurde die Kirche im 19.Jh. zu klein fĂŒr die Gemeinde. Daher wurde an anderer Stelle die heutige (neue) Peterskirche errichtet und nach deren Fertigstellung die alte Kirche 1886 abgebrochen. Die Trampeli-Orgel wurde nach Alterode verkauft, findet sich dort aber nicht mehr.
The son of a teacher, J.A. Dröbs attended the grammar school at Erfurt. His organ teacher there was Johann Christian Kittel, a pupil of J.S. Bach. Dröbs worked as a music teacher. In 1808 he went to Leipzig, where in 1810 he became the organist of St Peterâs Church. This had been consecrated in 1507 but after the Reformation was used for secular (storage) purposes. Given the growth of the population in the vicinity of the church, from 1712 onwards it was again used for services. In the course of the 18th c. it was remodelled several times in order to increase its seating capacity, notably by fitting additional galleries. In 1799 a new organ by the Trampeli brothers was installed (20 / ii+P). As the congregation kept growing, in the 19th c. the church became too small. A new church (the present St Peterâs Church) was built on a different site, and on its completion the old church was demolished in 1886. The Trampeli organ was sold to Alterode but is no longer present there.
Théodore Dubois (1837-1924): Fanfare pour orgue (Haverhill)
(English below) Orgel der Old Independent Church, Haverhill, Suffolk | Soweit ich sehe, erscheint die âFanfareâ in Duboisâ Werkverzeichnis einzig in einer Sammlung von KlavierstĂŒcken â nĂ€mlich als Nr. 9 in den 1883 veröffentlichten Vingt piĂšces nouvelles pour le piano. Es wird jedoch nirgends ein Bearbeiter der Orgelfassung genannt, die demnach von Dubois selbst stammen dĂŒrfte. Eine âFanfareâ gehört natĂŒrlich ohnehin eher auf die Orgel als aufs Klavier, und sie ist damit in den Vingt piĂšces nicht das einzige StĂŒck (Nr. 11: âChoralâ). Der Mittelteil ist hingegen tatsĂ€chlich recht pianistisch, obwohl er auch auf der Orgel gut klingt.
As far as I can see the âFanfareâ only appears in the catalogue of Duboisâ works in a collection of piano pieces â as no. 9 in the Vingt piĂšces nouvelles pour le piano of 1883. But nowhere is there any mention of an arranger, so presumably the organ version is also by Dubois. Indeed a âfanfareâ seems more at home on the organ than on the piano, and it is not the only one of the Vingt piĂšces of which this is true (no. 11: âChoralâ). The middle section on the other hand is quite pianistic, though it sounds good on the organ too.
Thomas Sanders Dupuis (1733-96): Trumpet Movement in C (Anloo)
The son of Huguenot immigrants, Thomas Sanders Dupuis was born in 1733, probably in London. A harpsichord teacher and organist, he succeeded William Boyce as one of the organists of the Chapel Royal in 1779. As a boy he had already been a chorister there. During his stays in England Joseph Haydn repeatedly met with Dupuis, including in the latterâs home, and in a list of representatives of English musical life that he compiled for himself Haydn put the words âa great organistâ behind Dupuisâs name. Dupuis died in 1796 of an overdose of opium and is buried in the cloister of Westminster Abbey.