leaderboard1 -

Johann Ludwig Krebs, <i>Prelude in F Major</i>: A Guide Towards Performance

July 25, 2006
Default

Jan-Piet Knijff teaches organ, historical keyboard instruments, and chamber music and is organist-in-residence at the Aaron Copland School of Music at Queens College/CUNY. He holds the DMA from The City University of New York as well as the Artist Diploma from the Conservatory of Amsterdam and is an Associate of the AGO. He won both the Grand Prix Bach de Lausanne and the Audience Prize at the Concours Bach de Lausanne 1997. His organ teachers have included Piet Kee, Ewald Kooiman, and Christoph Wolff. Visit JP’s website at or contact him at .@gmail.com>

The crayfish in his brook

Like so many musicians—including organists—old Sebastian Bach liked jokes and puns. And it was, presumably, the Thomas Cantor himself who came up with the famous one-liner stating his student Johann Ludwig Krebs (1713–1780) was “the only crayfish (Krebs) caught in this great brook (Bach).” Strictly speaking, this was actually not true: Johann Ludwig’s father, Johann Tobias Krebs, had been a Bach student in Weimar in the 1710s, and, having married into an affluent family in 1723, he was able to send not only Johann Ludwig but also his two other sons to school in Leipzig. One of them, Tobias Jr., had, at age 13, “a good strong voice” according to the Thomas Cantor. The other, Johann Carl, was at St. Thomas in the 1740s and eventually succeeded Tobias Sr. as organist at Buttstädt. Johann Ludwig studied with Bach for no fewer than nine years, from 1726 till 1735. The reference letter that Bach wrote for him in August of that year is very good indeed: We learn that Krebs was not only an able organist and harpsichord player, but also excelled as a violinist, lute player, and composer. Earlier, Krebs had applied (along with his father and C.P.E. Bach) for the position of organist at St. Wenzel’s Church in Naumburg. Krebs Sr. withdrew, but neither Jr. nor Carl Philipp got the job. Johann Ludwig stayed in Leipzig for a few more years, completing his education by attending lectures in philosophy and law at Leipzig University until he got his first position as organist in Zwickau in 1737. In 1742, Krebs applied successfully for the position at the Silbermann organ in the Frauenkirche in Dresden, but apparently didn’t accept the post, perhaps because the compensation package left something to be desired. Instead, he took a position at the castle in Zeitz in 1744. From there, he twice applied—unsuccessfully—for the Leipzig Thomas cantorate: first after Bach’s death in 1750 and again five years later when Bach’s successor Harrer had died. Finally, in 1756, Krebs became organist at the Altenburg castle, where he played the fine, large two-manual Trost organ still extant today. Although Krebs had been an avowed admirer of Silbermann organs, he loved the Trost organ very much and looked after it “like a father” (as one organ builder Schramm complained after being denied access to the instrument by the organist). Krebs stayed in Altenburg till his death, though—like his father—he had to pass on his responsibilities to his son Christian Traugott in 1776 due to health trouble.

Krebs’s music

Krebs’s impressive corpus of organ music is so high in quality that it has long been uncertain whether, for example, the famous Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott with double pedal was actually written by him or his venerable teacher. (I think Krebs is the more likely candidate.) But he was also a fine composer of other instrumental music, including concertos for the lute and a “duo for two keyboards” that received such high acclaim in Dresden that it evoked the envy of all the court musicians. Eighteenth-century writers describe Krebs as a virtuoso organist and his organ music as the best of his œuvre. Though Krebs was never really forgotten (a first “complete” edition of the organ works appeared in 1847–49), it seems to me that both the “free works” and chorale preludes are performed less than they deserve to be these days. One reason may be that the works are available in a fine though fairly expensive complete edition: the four volumes edited by German organist Gerhard Weinberger and published as Sämtliche Orgelwerke by Breitkopf. But the nice thing with Krebs is that there are quite a few small-scale pieces that are ideally suited for students but are equally attractive to seasoned professionals. (In fact, both Johann Ludwig and his dad have been considered candidates for the authorship of the Eight Little Preludes and Fugues, though this seems somewhat unlikely for stylistic reasons.) One of those little gems, a Prelude in F Major, is the subject of this article.

Prelude in F Major

This piece is found in Vol. 2 of the Sämtliche Orgelwerke on pp. 16–17. In addition, I have prepared an edition of this and a few other short preludes, which will be available from me (e-mail me at ). The piece opens with a simple chord progression over a repeated bass notes in the pedal (mm. 1–4). The broken chords in the right hand are essentially the same as the “solid” chords in the left. In mm. 5–8, the two hands are inverted (note how mm. 3 and 7 differ in detail). Mm. 1–4 return as a kind of recapitulation at the end of the piece (mm. 22–25), followed by a dramatic coda. In mm. 9–15, both hands move in eighths and sixteenths. Mm. 11–14 look a bit boring on paper, but they’re actually not so bad: the thing is to recognize the inner voices hidden among all these sixteenths. Krebs hints at this in m. 9: the eighth notes in the right hand are “accompanied” in lower sixths and thirds in the left hand; in turn, the left hand is accompanied in thirds by the pedal in the second half of the measure (Example 1). What you hear is really a soprano/alto duet followed by a tenor/bass duet, as is so common in choral music. The bass now drops out of the game; but soprano and tenor continue to move in thirds in m. 10–14 (Example 2). The two hands get more and more excited in m. 15 (it helps that the harmonies move per beat instead of per measure!). This culminates in the free imitation in mm. 16–17 (with the very brief “modulation” to C major) and in the quasi-canonic mm. 18–21 (over a “circle of fifths” and a characteristic pedalpoint on the subdominant in the pedal), leading back to the above-mentioned mini-recapitulation.@gmail.com>

Beginning to play

The opening measures (mm. 1–4) will pose no problem to beginning organists with a reasonable keyboard background, yet there is one little trick that will make these measures sound much better right away: the quarter-note chords (pedal and left hand) are best played a little bit shorter—something like dotted eighths or even generous eighth notes, depending on the acoustics. In any event, avoid full-length quarter notes. The broken chords in the right hand are best played slightly non-legato. Before embarking on the slightly trickier middle section, try playing the beginning and the end: mm. 1–4 and 26–28 (or, in fact, mm. 22–28!). It is important to get the hand division right; in my edition, I have done this for you, but if you use the Breitkopf edition, make sure to mark the Cs in m. 1/22 and the Ds in m. 2/23 in the left hand; it will make life much easier. In the middle of m. 4/25, play the first f’ light and relatively short to allow for the left hand to take over; you may even want to take a bit of extra time here to make things clearer (and easier). The shape of the figure in m. 4 is happily different from the broken chords in mm. 1–3; I think it sounds nice if you underline that by playing the sixteenths f’’-e’’-f’’ (and later f’-e’-f’) a little more legato. You could also consider lingering a little on the downbeat a’ (just be careful not to do this always in the same way). The dramatic chords in the last few measures can be divided between the hands in different ways; my suggestion is to add a nice cadential trill on the e’’ in m. 27 (Example 3).

A few fingerings

Nothing in this piece will create major problems for the beginning organist with a decent keyboard background. Yet there is one fingering, in m. 15, that people seem to miss out on, but which, I believe, will make life easier for you (and, as a bonus, it will sound better too). Every student with whom I worked on this piece chose the fingering in Example 4a; Example 4b offers my own suggestion. First, the two pinkies on a’’–g’’ ensure that these two notes are nicely articulated (after all, the g’’ is part of a new chord, and that relatively fast harmonic rhythm is one of the exciting things in this measure). My fingering avoids the slight turn of the hand necessary to put your thumb on the b-flat’ (and then turning back to put the thumb on the a’ again) and the awkward and unnecessary silent substitution on the b-flat’. Using the 5-2 option on the eighth notes means that the two consecutive sixths c’’–a’’ (“hidden” in the group of sixteenths) and b-flat’–g’’ are played with the same fingering, which somehow feels natural. Finally, putting a little finger on the g’’ fits nicely with the left hand, which undoubtedly uses a little finger at the same moment (the index finger on b-flat’ also coincides with the index in the left hand). Not that this is a “proof” of any kind for my suggested fingering; I just find it nice how these fingerings seem to “rhyme,” particularly in a piece that is obviously meant for beginning organists. Even a beginner on the pedals should be able to deal with the pedal part in our piece: the repeated F constitutes the pedal part for almost half the piece, and for what is left, you don’t need much wizardry either. While some teachers may recommend a heel in m. 9, it sounds just as good (and is just as easy to play) with toes only, as shown in Example 5. In mm. 11–14, make sure that your left foot is guided by your (left) knee; as in walking, the knee moves out, as it were, over the foot. (I know this is the complete opposite of the “knees-together doctrine” that so many of us have grown up with; I will deal with this in a separate article.) In m. 15, some teachers might recommend silent substitution on the cs, but in the overall non-legato style of playing this is hardly necessary. Leap with whatever foot you like; it doesn’t really matter. Example 6 offers my pedaling suggestion for mm. 16–17. I personally like putting a left foot on the strong, long B-flat in mm. 20–21, but this may be a matter of taste.

The tricky part

Mm. 16–19 are undoubtedly the trickiest part of the piece. Here’s how I would deal with them. First, get comfortable with the pedals. The best thing is to sing along as you’re playing. (If this embarrasses you too much, you can always “sing in your head,” but I do find that singing aloud works better.) Then, add one hand; perhaps the left and keep singing (it doesn’t really matter whether you still sing the pedal part or the left hand, as long as you’re singing). Next, pedal and the other hand (keep singing!). Finally, try both hands and pedals together and keep singing. Very important: Try not to stop for mistakes. Play the fragment at a speed that sounds reasonable to you (or a little slower) and simply get as many as the notes as you get—don’t worry if half of them are wrong. Try another time, and you’ll probably do better already. As you get to know the music better (and singing helps a lot with that), you’ll make fewer and fewer mistakes. If there’s a spot that keeps bothering you, consider different fingering options. Even when playing slowly, try to find a tempo that makes musical sense. Avoid losing track of the music and getting lost in learning “just notes.”

Ornaments

To my mind, there are basically three ways to perform the trill in m. 21, as I have shown in Example 7. I don’t see too many opportunities in the piece for adding extra ornaments, except perhaps at the very end: The rests between those dramatic chords over the chromatically descending bass could be filled out a bit. I’m not sure that I would do this or necessarily recommend it to students, but many people seem to like this kind of thing, and it’s always good to have as many arrows on your bow as possible. So Example 8 shows what I might do in a concert after a good glass of German wine (or after a service with lots of incense).

Tempo and Registration

The piece is intended for organo pleno, as indicated in the title. A big pleno registration—Principals 16’, 8’, 4’, 22⁄3’, 2’, Mixtures and optional Sesquialtera on all manuals, reinforced in the Pedal by Posaune 16’ and Trompete 8’—will work very well, but a smaller registration—say, Principals 8’, 4’, 2’, with a 16’ in the Pedal—can be equally fitting, depending on the situation. One may be inclined to take the tempo a little slower with the big pleno sound and a touch faster with a smaller registration; likewise, one will probably take a bit more time in a big church with cathedral acoustics than in a small hall with little reverberation. Try to find a tempo that works well for all “sections” of the piece: the broken chords in the beginning, the “canonic” section in the middle, and the dramatic chords of the coda.

 

Related Content

March 18, 2024
The celebration “These people will be your friends for life,” Karel Paukert pronounced to his organ class at Northwestern University in the mid-1970s…
March 18, 2024
That ingenious business Great Britain’s King George III (1738–1820), whose oppressive rule over the American colonies led to the American…
March 18, 2024
Robert Eugene Leftwich Robert Eugene Leftwich died January 13, 2024. He was born July 2, 1940, in Texas and grew up in Longmont, Colorado. He…