Harpsichord Notes

Dandrieu’s harpsichord music

Hot on the heels of May’s review of a compact disc devoted to keyboard works by Haydn, June’s feature is a recording recently issued by the same company, Encelade, this time entirely devoted to harpsichord music by Jean-François Dandrieu (1682–1738).

Some organists may recognize Dandrieu’s name, especially if they play his best-known composition for our instrument, the Offertoire for Easter: O filii et filiae, a piece that occasionally appears on the playlist for organ competitions. Searching for a large volume of Dandrieu’s harpsichord music that I vaguely remembered as being somewhere in my music library, I came across Ernest White’s St. Mary’s Press edition of a hefty selection of organ pieces by Dandrieu in White’s spiral-bound Well-Tempered Organist series: fifty-five pages of French Baroque organ music that I had not perused since high school days.

A quick look at our composer’s biography raised my interest level. Born into an artistic Parisian family, Jean-François, a child prodigy, made his first known appearance as a harpsichordist at age five, performing for King Louis XIV and his court. (Shades of Mozart!) By age 18 he was playing the organ at the Church of St. Merry, made famous by the composer Nicolas LeBègue. Five years later, Dandrieu was named titular organist of that venerable religious edifice. In 1721 he was appointed one of the four organists of the Royal Chapel. 

David Fuller, in a brief Dandrieu article for the New Grove Encyclopedia of Music (1980) ranked Jean-François as the third most gifted composer of his era, after François Couperin and Jean-Philippe Rameau. Another authority on French Baroque keyboard music, Mark Kroll, does not give Dandrieu so exalted a station, but he does suggest in his chapter on “French Masters” [published in 18th-Century Keyboard Music, edited by Robert L. Marshall; New York: Routledge, 2003] that there is much of interest to be noted in some fingerings and manual change indications found in the composer’s third (and final) major publication.

Like quite a number of the Haydn disc’s selections, Dandrieu’s harpsichord works were completely unknown to me. Eventually I did find that hefty tome containing the composer’s three major harpsichord publications of 1724, 1728, and 1734 in a single-volume twentieth-century edition by Pauline Aubert and Brigitte François-Sappey, Trois Livres de Clavecin, published by the Schola Cantorum, Paris, in 1973—a massive undertaking filling nearly 200 pages. Incidentally, friends whom I queried for information concerning more recent Dandrieu editions were not able to cite any.

The Dandrieu disc, in addition to an unfamiliar repertoire, also showcases a harpsichordist and three instrument makers who are equally unfamiliar. I am delighted to report that Marouan Mankar-Bennis plays superbly in his first solo harpsichord recording, and builders Andreas Linos and Jean-François Brun, the makers of the 2014 Flemish-style harpsichord after Joannes Couchet (seventeenth century), utilized for tracks 1–17, and Ryo Yoshida, builder of the eighteenth-century French-style instrument constructed in 1989, employed for tracks 18–24, maintain similarly lofty standards. Indeed, I could go so far as to suggest that this Encelade disc might well turn out to be my favorite harpsichord recording of 2018!

A clever program

[Note: page numbers in bold type indicate the location of the individual selections in the Schola Cantorum edition.]

Monsieur Mankar-Bennis has arranged his concert to form what he has dubbed a “harpsichord opera” comprising a Prologue (tracks 1–5) and Five Acts. In cogent program notes he describes this creation, beginning with the one piece not found in my Dandrieu volume, a two-minute youthful Prelude (1705), played on the Lute (Buff) stop to suggest an antecedent of the eighteenth-century harpsichord repertoire, followed by four selections from the composer’s Third Book (1734): La Précieuse [Courante, p. 144], La Constante [Sarabande, p. 145], La Gracieuse [Chaconne, p. 148], and Le Badin [Menuet, p. 151].

Act I (tracks 6–10) commences with an overture: La Magicienne, [p. 100], a sequence comprising La Pastorale (excerpts), Las Bergers Rustiques and Héroïques, and Le Bal Champêtre [from Book Two; pp. 107–108], ending with La Naturèle from Book Three [p. 134].

Act II (tracks 11–14), Les Tendres Reproches (Book II, p. 104), Le Concert de Oiseaux: Le Remage, Les Amours, L’Hymen (Book I) [pp. 32–35].

Act III (tracks 15–17), La Plaintive
[p. 1], La Musette and Double [p. 7], Les Caractères de la Guerre [Book I; p. 14].

Act IV (tracks 18–19), Le Concert des Muses, Suite du Concert des Muses (Passacaglia) [Book II, p. 92].

Act V (tracks 20–24), La Lully (p. 81), La Corelli and Double (p. 83), La Lyre d’Orphée (p. 86), La Figurée (p. 87) [Book II]; La Tympanon (Book I, p. 46).   

Further delights

The pieces heard on the recording total 24 individual movements, 23 of which are to be found in the Schola Cantorum edition. The entire volume contains 104 separate movements. (Dandrieu’s Book I comprises 37 individual character pieces in five suites. Book II, 31 movements in six suites. Book III, 36 works in eight suites.) I recommend many of these charming pieces, most of which seem to be less technically difficult than similar movements by Couperin and Rameau. Indeed, I am disappointed that I did not know these compositions earlier in my career. They would have made excellent additions to the French harpsichord repertoire, perhaps immediately following Couperin’s L’art de toucher le clavecin Preludes, especially for less technically gifted students! Oh well, as Oscar Wilde quipped, “Youth is wasted on the young.” I have been aware for quite some time that, ironically, by the time we know enough to teach others, it is nearly time to retire.

I have not checked every note in the Trois Livres compilation, but thus far I have found only one misprint: in the Double of La Champêtre (page 147) measure three of the Reprise is missing the bass clef, needed for the following measure to make musical sense. Should you find other suspect notes or missing alterations, please let us know.

For ordering information and performer’s biography, visit www.encelade.net.

Handel with care

As I write this column we are barely past the Feast of the Epiphany and are   settling in for a bit of “wintery mix” that will bring sub-freezing temperatures plus the threat of snow to much of northern Texas. Blessedly, I am still basking in the warm memory of my most recent participation as continuo harpsichordist for a performance of George Frideric Handel’s greatest hit, his oratorio Messiah (Part I and the Hallelujah Chorus), presented on December 24 as the Sunday morning service at Lovers Lane United Methodist Church in Dallas.

Like most colleagues who own a harpsichord, I have had a career-long association with Handel’s masterpiece beginning during student days and continuing through many collaborations with professional ensembles such as the Dallas and Shreveport symphonies and multiple church choirs (my own as conductor from the keyboard, and others as keyboardist only). Like other particular holiday favorites (The Nutcracker and A Christmas Carol come to mind), Messiah can suffer from over-exposure. At this point in my life I am not certain that I would accept another engagement to perform the entire oratorio, but for this, a repeat booking to assist with Part I at Lovers Lane Church after having performed in a separate subsequent Good Friday presentation of Parts II and III during an appropriate liturgical season, I have come to admire the good taste of music director Jimmy Emery and the sensitive collaboration of his clergy. Music IS the sermon for these services: a pastoral welcome follows the organ prelude; the instrumental “Pifa” serves as an offertory, and a benediction before the organ postlude completes the spoken word segments for the service, thus allowing the powerful biblical texts and Handel’s beloved music to serve as the message.

For the 2017 presentation we had a complement of single strings, winds, trumpet, and tympani plus the collaboration of organist Sheryl Sebo at the classic Aeolian-Skinner pipe organ, moved from the original church for installation as the chancel instrument for the magnificent primary edifice for worship, no longer situated on the eponymous Lane, but now gracing the northeastern corner of Northwest Highway and Inwood Road in north Dallas. Due to his scheduling error the cellist did not arrive for the Saturday morning rehearsal, but a versatile bassist did noble service, and the continuo players gathered for an extra half hour of checking cues on Sunday morning, so all fit together seamlessly.

A few performance suggestions achieved from experience

I admire those among us who are proficient readers of figured bass, but for my own security I prefer to play from a realized score, and the published version that I use is a 1998 spiral-bound volume from Oxford University Press, edited by Clifford Bartlett (with continuo realization by Timothy Morris). This 167-page score contains all of the various transpositions and alternatively voiced arias as well as the rehearsal letters indicated in the Watkins Shaw vocal score published by Novello. (A practical hint: keep a stash of large paper clips close at hand, and ask the conductor for a list of the options that have been selected for performance prior to rehearsals.)

Of course, the presence of a printed realization does not require that every printed note must be played! For dynamic or expressive reasons one may wish to omit, or add, notes. A few of my favorite examples: in “O Thou that tellest Good Tidings to Zion” (#9) try adding some upward scale figures to illustrate “get thee up into the high mountains.” Delay the harpsichord entrance at the beginning of #10, “For behold, darkness shall cover the earth,” then join the bass line at letter A: “. . . But the Lord shall arise . . .” Or, for the recitative #19, “Then shall the eyes of the blind be opened,” insert a bit of irresistible fun by adding some jolly arpeggiated upward sixteenth-notes to portray that lame man who is “leaping as an hart!”

Recommended books: Handel and Messiah

1) For an eminently readable biography of the composer, Christopher Hogwood’s tercentenary offering Handel (Thames and Hudson, London, 1984, USA 1985; ISBN 0-500-01355-1) is a winner with one hundred well-chosen illustrations (ten in color), a full chapter on the oratorios, and a complete chronological table of events in the composer’s long life.

2) Richard Luckett, the Pepys Librarian at Magdalene College, Cambridge UK, is the author of Handel’s Messiah: A Celebration (Victor Gollanz, Ltd, 1992; ISBN 0-575-05286-4), comprising ten cogent chapters that describe the background and history of the work’s creation, its varied performance styles through the years, and the changing tastes that have developed through the influence of the twentieth-century early music revival.

3) First Nights: Five Musical Premieres (Yale University Press, 2000; ISBN 0-300-07774-2) is James Forrest Kelly’s compendium of eventful happenings at the first public hearing of a major work by the composers Monteverdi, Beethoven, Berlioz, Stravinsky, and, as the subject of the book’s second chapter, Handel’s Messiah. Of particular interest is a discussion of recommended recordings of Handel’s oratorio (pages 342–344) as conducted by George Solti, Trevor Pinnock, William Christie, and Nicholas McGegan. The latter chose to record all the variant surviving material from Handel’s several versions of Messiah, thus providing the listener with the materials for constructing a unique performance of the oratorio to suit one’s individual interest and preferences.

A memorable venue: Handel’s house

Among my fondest memories of meaningful recitals, only a precious few hold the same rank as the thrill of performing an eighteenth-century keyboard transcription of the “Overture” to Messiah during one of my two concerts in Handel’s London lodging located at 25 Brook Street, Mayfair, known since 2001 as “The Handel House Museum.” A lovely two-manual harpsichord by Bruce Kennedy provides the player with an exceptional partner in this intimate space. Most wonderful, however, is the sense of awe that is induced by the thought that in these very rooms the great composer conceived his immortal music.

I did not wish to mention these events without hastening to mention the names of some other colleagues who have had the same opportunity. For this information I appealed to Jane Clark, a wonderful British friend and authority on Couperin and Scarlatti, as well as a superb performer of her late husband Stephen Dodgson’s keyboard music, with a request for a list of players from the United States who have presented concerts. Neither Jane nor I can vouch for its completeness (so I suggest that readers who have names to add should contact me so that I may add them in a future Harpsichord Notes column). In alphabetical order: Ruta Bloomfield, Elaine Funaro, Mark Kroll, Sonia Lee, Joyce Lindorff, Charlotte Mattax, Rebecca Pechefsky, Linton Powell, Michael Tsalka, and Kenneth Weiss—distinguished company, indeed!

Jane also noted that she was discouraging future performances of Handel’s great (but lengthy) Chaconne in G Major! (So, colleagues, be forewarned!)

Handel for harpsichord: a few suggestions

In the days before ubiquitous recording media existed, orchestral works were transcribed for home performances at the various available keyboards. Sixty Handel overtures from oratorios and operas are available in a volume of keyboard arrangements published by John Walsh (the younger) during the years 1708 to 1750. Dover Publications reprinted the entire collection in one volume in 1993. This facsimile of the “top sixty” begins at A (Acis and Galatea). [Aside: my first commercial recording was as a singer in the “Oberlin” chorus for Bernhard Paumgartner’s production of this opera at the Salzburger Landestheater in 1959, issued on a Columbia record in the United States.] The Dover volume includes both Messiah and Water Musick [sic], and concludes with Xerxes! This compendium should provide enough variety for a few decades of Handel House harpsichordists! If the occasional C clefs and idiosyncratic notational features of the facsimile edition are not to one’s liking, Novello issued Twenty Overtures In Authentic Keyboard Arrangements, edited by Terence Best (3 volumes, 1985) employing modern musical notation and printing.

Handel’s Eight Great Suites comprise typical eighteenth-century dance movements, several of which deserve to rank along with the best of such sets from the period. [Aside: in the early 1960s I nearly caused a riot in Eugene Selhorst’s graduate music literature seminar at the Eastman School of Music when I questioned the comment from a pianist who said that Handel was “not a first-rate composer for keyboard” by asking her if she had ever played any of them? She had not. A pity! My own favorites include the suites in E major (“Harmonious Blacksmith”), D minor (which culminates in a Presto movement also used to conclude the overture for the opera Il Pastor Fido), and the noble F minor. But the others are worthwhile too: multi-movement works in A major, F major, E minor, F-sharp minor, and G minor: all worthwhile and interesting music.

Finally, you might just “throw in the towel” and create your own transcription of Percy Grainger’s “clog dance” Handel in the Strand (composed for piano and strings in 1911–1912, and, as he noted in a later edition for keyboard, “dished up for piano solo,” March 25, 1930, in Denton, Texas!!). What merriment it must have brought to Dallas’s “neighbor to the north,” now home to the impressive University of North Texas School of Music.  

And I’ll wager that, if the weather was as cold then as it is right now, Percy Grainger’s hot pianism could have turned most of the frozen precipitation into a dazzling dancing delight!

John Collins has been playing and researching early keyboard music for over 35 years, with special research interests in the English, Italian, and Iberian repertoires. He has contributed many reviews and articles on repertoire and performance practice, including translations and commentaries on treatises in German, Spanish, and Portuguese, to European and American journals, including The Diapason. After serving as organist at St. George’s Church, Worthing, UK, for 33 years, in June 2017 he began service for Christ Church, Worthing.

In 2018 there are several composers whose anniversaries can be commemorated, albeit some of the precise birth and death dates are not known for certain. Several names below need no introduction, but there are also quite a few lesser-known names listed here whose compositions are well worth exploring. No claim is made for completeness, and there is no guarantee that every edition is readily available and in print­—there may well also be editions by other publishers.    

An increasing number of pieces, ranging from complete, original publications or manuscripts (which present the usual problems of multiple clefs as well as original printer’s errors) to modern versions of complete or individual works, are to be found on various free download sites, most noticeably IMSLP/Petrucci Music Library (http://imslp.org); however, the accuracy of some modern typesetting is highly questionable, and all should be treated with caution before use.

Jacob Arcadelt (ca. 1505–1568) was a Franco-Flemish composer who wrote both sacred and secular vocal music. He is perhaps best known for his motet setting of Ave, Maria. His principal legacy is his collection of madrigals. Three intabulations for keyboard, perhaps made by Claudio Veggio, have survived in the manuscripts at Castell’ Arquato, tentatively dated as mid-sixteenth century (although possibly earlier), and have been edited by H. Colin Slim in Keyboard Music at Castell’ Arquato (American Institute of Musicology, CEKM 37-3). In addition to an organ Mass, this volume contains some excellent ricercars and other intabulations.

Caspar Hässler (1562–1618) was the elder brother of Hans Leo Hassler and worked in Nuremberg. Only one piece by him has survived, a Fantasia a 4 in C in three repeated sections. Originally edited by Ernst von Werra in 1903, it is included as no. 14 in German Organ and Keyboard Music of the 17th Century II, edited by Siegbert Rampe (Bärenreiter BA8427). The two volumes in this series contain much little known music and are well worth investigating. 

Adriano Banchieri (1568–1634) was an Italian theorist and composer from Bologna. He composed much vocal music, but his main achievements were in the field of providing instructions and pieces for organ. The theoretical treatise Conclusioni del suono dell’organo published in 1609 is available in facsimile from Arnaldo Forni. His most useful work for today’s player, L’Organo suarino, which gives vast amounts of useful information as well as short pieces suited to the non-professional player, has gone through several editions. The first, in 1605 (op. 13), contained 19 pieces (13 Sonatas, four Capricci, and two Ripieni); the second  edition of 1611, op. 25, contained a further 18 pieces of various genres. The third  edition (of 1622 and 1638) contained a further five new pieces including four Sonatas and a Gloria, resulting in 42 pieces in total in the three editions. A facsimile with introduction by Giulio Cattin has been published by Frits Knuf, Amsterdam. The 1605 edition has been edited by Edoardo Bellotti for Il Levante Libreria (TA31). Thirty-nine  pieces have been edited by Raimund Schächer (Cornetto Verlag, CP128). A volume of Canzone alla Francese Libro Segundo of 1596 contained 14 pieces, of which the 11 in four parts have been intabulated for keyboard by Alessandro Bares (Musedita, BA 1 20). The Moderna Harmonia, op. 26, contained 15 Canzonas in 2 parts, 2 Fantasias in 4 parts, and a Magnificat in concerto à 4 voci, of which the Canzonas and Fantasias have been edited in open score by Alessandro Bares (Musedita, BA 1 OR). Banchieri also contributed two Ricercars to the second part of Diruta’s 1609 Il Transilvano; they are included in the modern edition of the pieces from the two parts, edited by Tamás Zászkaliczky  (Editio Musica Z8608, Budapest). One further Ricercar Tertii Tono is in manuscript from 1581, Munich, and has been edited by Clare Rayner as no. 69 in München, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek  Ms. Mus 1581 for American Institute of Musicology, Corpus of Early Keyboard Music, volume 40, part III. This piece was printed originally as “Fantasia Decima Nona” in Fantasie ovvero canzone alla francese per suonare all’organo et altri stromenti musicali, a Quattro voci, in 1603, which collection was edited by André Vierendeels for Schott’s Söhne, Mainz (ANT12). Twenty-two pieces have been edited by Enrico Capaccioli in 22 Composizioni per organo (Edizioni Carrara, EC3187).

Abraham van den Kerckhoven (ca. 1618–1702) served organist of St. Catherine’s Church, Brussels, from ca. 1632, and also chamber and court organist to Archduke Leopold Wilhelm. His surviving keyboard pieces are contained in a large manuscript now at the Bibliothèque Royale Albert I in Brussels; this manuscript is dated 1741 and was signed by Jacobus Cocquiel. It contains some 364 pieces, comprising a large number of versets on the eight tones, settings of Salve Regina and an organ Mass along with Fantasias and separate Fugas. Many pieces were left unascribed, and a few were ascribed to other composers, some from the same circle or later. A partial edition with selected items was edited by Jos Watelet as Monumenta musicae Belgicae II which has been reprinted and published by B-Note Musikverlag (BM14876). A facsimile edition of the complete manuscript has been produced by Godelieve Spiessens. A selection of 5 Fantasias, Versus 1 Toni, and 2 Fugas has been edited by Ewald Kooiman for Harmonia in the series Incognita Organo, no. 32 (HU3699). The complete contents of the manuscript have been made available on IMSLP with tables of analysis and an introduction. 

Albertus Bryne (ca. 1621–1668) was organist of both St. Paul’s Cathedral and Westminster Abbey, London. Some 30 keyboard pieces attributed to Bryne, all but one Voluntary being dance movements, have survived in ten manuscripts. The modern edition edited by Terence Charlston for Norsk Musikforlag contains invaluable information about performance practice of the period including fingering, ornamentation, rhythm, tempo, and ties which can be applied to Bryne’s successors Blow and Purcell, as well as the anonymous pieces by the post-Restoration composers. The edition includes an audio CD with exemplary recordings of the pieces by Terence Charlston and an interactive CD-ROM containing the full edited text, transcripts, and images of all ten  manuscripts and printed sources.

François Couperin “Le Grand” (1668–1733) is best known for his four books of harpsichord works published between 1713 and 1730 and his treatise,  L’Art de toucher le clavecin. He  also published two organ Masses in 1690, Pièces d’orgue consistantes en deux messes, l’une à l’usage des Paroisses pour les Festes Solennelles, L’autre propres pour les Couvents des Religieux et Religieuses. They contain verses for the Kyrie, Gloria, Offertoire, Sanctus, Benedicus, Agnus Dei, and Deo Gracias. The volume has been edited by Paul Brunold, Kenneth Gilbert, and Davitt Moroney for Oiseau Lyre as Oeuvres complètes III. There are other editions edited by Norbert Dufourques for Schola Cantorum (two volumes). A facsimile has been published by Anne Fuzeau. 

José de Nebra (1702–1768) was born in Calatayud and worked in Madrid. He left operas, zarzuelas, and dramas as well as Masses and vocal music. Like many of the Spanish composers of the eighteenth century, a complete edition of his keyboard music is much needed. Modern editions include the following three volumes in the series Tecla Aragonesa published by the Institución Fernando el Católico Zaragoza. Volume I (Joseph Nebra Tocatas y Sonata para órgano ó clave) edited by Roman Escalas includes three Tocatas, a Sonata, and a Grave; volume III (Joseph Nebra Obras inéditas para tecla) edited by María-Salud Álvarez includes three Sonatas, three Tocatas, and an Obra para órgano. In Volume VII (Músicos Aragoneses en Valencia en el siglo XVIII) edited by Vicente Ros, there is a Pange Lingua setting. 

Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg (1718–1795) was a German composer, theorist, and critic. He published several important treatises including Abhandlung von der Fuge, and Die Kunst das Klavier zu spielen. His numerous compositions for keyboard include Sei Sonate per Cembalo, 1755, edited by Raimund Schächer for Carus Verlag (CV18.002/00) and by Laura Cerutti for Armelin, Padua (AMM10). Being very similar to C. P. E. Bach’s organ sonatas, they would also sound well on the organ. The Fughe e Capricci, 1777, which contains a prelude, 2 Capricci, and 7 Fughe, has been edited by Martin Weyer (Forberg, F25048) and is available as a facsimile from Anne Fuzeau and from Broude Brothers, New York (PF 142). The Versuch in figurirten Choräle sowohl für die Orgel als für das Clavichord I, which contains 21 pieces, and the Zweiter Versuch in Figurirte Choräle . . . , Part II, ca. 1792, which contains a further 15 pieces, are available as facsimiles from  Broude Brothers, New York (PF136 and 137). Other works best suited to stringed keyboard instruments appeared in prints and anthologies, several of which are also available in modern editions.

Joseph Aloys Schmittbaur (1718–1809), born in Bamberg, Germany, worked in Rastatt and Karlsruhe. He composed operas, symphonies, concertos, vocal music, and some 50 pieces for keyboard. His Vierundzwanzig Vor- und Nachspiele—Für Orgel have been edited by Rudolph Walter (Carus Verlag, CV91.088/00).

Fedele Fenaroli (1730–1818), a pupil of Francesco Durante, became Maestro di Cappella of the Santa Maria in Loreto conservatory in Naples in 1762. He wrote mainly sacred vocal music, but a few organ pieces have survived and have been edited in four volumes by Maurizio Machella, published by Armelin, Padua (AMM 2, 3, 56, and 60). Volume I contains six short one-movement sonatas, a two-movement sonata, and a one-movement sonata which may be connected to the following Fuga, which has been completed by the editor. Volume II contains 14 Versetti in various unconnected keys. Volume III contains an Apertura per Organo and six three-movement sonatas, of which the central movement is in the tonic minor. The fourth volume is unnumbered and contains a Trattenimento and a Pastorale. 

Carlos Baguer (1768–1808) was organist of the cathedral of Barcelona, Spain, and composed symphonies, concerti, flue duets, and much religious vocal music. Although he left many keyboard works in manuscripts, very few are available in modern editions. Those available are Siete Sonatas edited by Maria Ester Sala (Union Musical Española, 22055) and Tres Sinfonías para Tecla, possibly arrangements for keyboard of symphonies composed by Baguer himself rather than Haydn to whom they are attributed in the manuscript (edited by Maria Ester Sala for Instituto Español de Musicología, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas). 

Benjamin Carr (1768–1831) was born in London and studied organ with Samuel Wesley and composition with Samuel Arnold. In 1793 he moved to the United States, working in Philadelphia as a singer, teacher, organist, and composer. He published pieces for piano, songs and works for the stage, but only one voluntary has been listed. It has been edited by J. Bunker Clark in Anthology of Early American Keyboard Music 1787–1830, Part 1 for AR Editions (A001), which volume contains a further three pieces by Carr and 14 more pieces by nine other composers.

Francisco Cabo (1768–1832) was born in Naquera (province of Valencia, Spain) and worked in the cathedrals of Orihuela and Valencia from 1796 onward, succeeding Rafael Anglés in 1816. He composed vocal music and left 19 organ works in manuscripts comprising Versos, Pasos, and sonatas for specific feasts in the liturgical year, the majority of which are annotated with the year of composition. These pieces, which demonstrate a pronounced Romantic approach, have been edited by José Climent for the Sociedad Española de Musicología, Madrid.

Bartolomeo Franzosini (1768–1853) was an architect and composer in northern Italy. He left a Pastorale in A, which has been edited by Maurizio Machella for Armelin (AMM75) and is also included in Itinerari Italiani volume X, L’Organi in Piemonte tra ‘700 e ’800, edited by M. Rossi and G. Vessia for Edizioni Carrara (EC4583) and in Organum Italicum Volume III edited by A. Macinanti and F. Tasini for Edizioni Carrara (EC4654). His Nove Danze per Organo have been edited by Riccardo Zoja for Armelin (AMM278).

Publishers’ websites:

A-R Editions: www.areditions.com

American Institute of Musicology­—CEKM series: www.corpusmusicae.com/cekm.htm

Anne Fuzeau facsimiles: www.editions-classique.com

Armelin (and Zanibon):

www.armelin.it

B-Note Musikverlag: www.bnote.de

Bärenreiter: www.baerenreiter.com

Breitkopf & Hartel: www.breitkopf.com

Broude Bros: www.broude.us

Butz Verlag: www.butz-verlag.de

Carus Verlag: www.carus-verlag.com

Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Barcelona: www.csic.es

Cornetto Verlag: www.cornetto-music.de

Doblinger:

www.doblinger-musikverlag.at

Edition Walhall: www.edition-walhall.de

Edizione Carrara:

www.edizionicarrara.it

Forni Editore: www.fornieditore.com

Il Levante Libreria:

www.illevante-libreria.it

Musedita: www.musedita.it

Norsk Musikforlag:

https://musikkforlagene.no/

Oiseau Lyre: http://vca-mcm.unimelb.edu.au/about/publications/lyrebird-press-austral…

Schott Music: www.schott-music.com

Scola Cantorum:

www.schola-editions.com

Sociedad Española de Musicología: www.sedem.es 

Stainer & Bell: www.stainer.co.uk

Union Musical Española: www.musicsalesclassical.com/companies/unionmusicalediciones

Ut Orpheus: www.utorpheus.com

The 2012 inaugural meeting of the new Historical Keyboard Society of North America (HKSNA), formed by the merger of the Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society (SEHKS, founded 1980) and its slightly younger sibling, the Midwestern Historical Keyboard Society (MHKS, organized 1984), was an historic event in itself. The late March gathering in Cincinnati included both the seventh iteration of the Jurow Harpsichord Playing Competition and the eighth occurrence of the International Aliénor Composition Competition, plus scores of scholarly presentations and short recitals, loosely organized into ten sessions, each with a general connecting theme.  

For my contribution to Session Seven (The Old Made New) I attempted to craft a title enigmatic enough that it might pique the curiosity of a few potential auditors, but with the higher goal of providing information about some of the earliest and relatively obscure “new” compositions for harpsichord from the early 20th-century. I hoped, as well, to underscore, at least by implication, the major stimulus for a continuing creation of new repertoire that has been provided by the Aliénor’s prizes, performances, and publications since its inception in 1980. 

Woodhouse plays Cecil Sharp

As early as July 1920, Violet Gordon Woodhouse, the most prominent and gifted of early 20th-century British harpsichordists, recorded three of folksong collector Cecil Sharp’s Country Dance Tunes. Thus Sharp’s 1911 piano versions of the tunes Newcastle, Heddon of Fawsley, and Step Back serve as the earliest “contemporary” music for harpsichord committed to disc.¹

These were followed, in 1922, by recorded performances of two more Cecil Sharp transcriptions, Bryhton Camp and the evocatively titled Gathering Peascods.² While the 1920 recordings were already available in digital format, courtesy of Pearl Records’ Violet Gordon Woodhouse compact disc,³ I had never heard the 1922 offerings. Peter Adamson, an avid collector of these earliest discs, assured me that he could provide the eponymous work listed in the title of this article. Both of us were surprised to find that Gathering Peascods was never issued in the United Kingdom, but Peter was able to send me some superior dubs from the original 1920 discs, as well as a few seconds of authentic 78-rpm needle scratching. Combining this acoustic noise with Sharp’s keyboard arrangement, quickly located online via Google search, made possible the restoration of Peascods to the roster of earliest recorded “contemporary” harpsichord literature. It is equally charming, though perhaps less historically informed, when performed without the ambient sound track. 

Thomé

New harpsichord music composed for the earliest Revival harpsichords⁴ actually predates any recording of the instrument: Francis Thomé’s Rigodon, opus 97, a pièce de claveçin, was written for the fleet-fingered French pianist Louis Diémer, and published in Paris by Henry Lemoine and Company in 1892.⁵

The first 20th-century harpsichord piece?

There are currently two contenders for “first place” in the 20th-century modern harpsichord composition sweepstakes. The first may be Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s English Suite, originally committed to paper in 1909 during his student years in Florence, then recreated in 1939 shortly after the Italian composer’s immigration to the United States. That version, sent to prominent harpsichordist Ralph Kirkpatrick in 1940, seems to have been ignored by the artist, but it was ultimately published by Mills Music in New York in 1962.⁶

A second contender (dare we call it a “co-first”?), which is, thus far, the earliest published 20th-century harpsichord work, is Henri Mulet’s tender and charming miniature Petit Lied. Mulet is most often remembered, if at all, for his ten Byzantine Sketches for Organ, a set that ends with the sometimes-popular toccata Tu es Petrus (Thou art the rock). Comprising a brief seventeen measures, Mulet’s “Little Song” is dedicated to fellow organist Albert Périlhou, who was characterized by his more famous contemporary Louis Vierne, as “a composer of the 18th century.” So perhaps this delicate, nostalgic work, published in 1910 “pour claveçin [ou piano]” was intended to pay homage to Périlhou’s antiquarian tendencies.⁷

Busoni

1916 saw the publication of Ferruccio Busoni’s 1915 Sonatina ad usum infantis Madeline M.* Americanae pro Clavicimbalo composita⁸—a strange, but ultimately satisfying keyboard work that, with some imaginative editing, is playable on a two-manual harpsichord, which one assumes the composer did, since he was also the proud owner of such a 1911 Dolmetsch-Chickering instrument.⁹   

Delius

Often described as “unplayable,” the very original Dance for Harpsichord (for piano) by Frederick Delius came into being in 1919, inspired by the artistry of Violet Gordon Woodhouse. Kirkpatrick included it in a unique program of 20th-century harpsichord music presented at the University of California, Berkeley in 1961¹⁰ and Igor Kipnis recorded it in 1976.¹¹ I have occasionally enjoyed playing Delius’s purple-plush harmonies in a shortened version arranged by Baltimore harpsichordist Joseph Stephens. Each time I play the work I find fewer notes to be necessary, and decide to omit more and more of them, often an approach that best serves these piano-centric harpsichord refugees from the early Revival years. Since Delius surely ranks among the better-known composers who attempted to write anything at all for the harpsichord, it seems worth the effort to forge an individual version that serves to bring this quite lovely piece to the public.

Grainger

Inspired by the recent anniversary year (2011) of the beloved eccentric Percy Grainger (he died in 1961), it seemed fitting to rework another of my own arrangements, that of his “Room-Music Tit-Bits,” the clog dance Handel in the Strand, particularly after coming across Grainger’s own mention of the harpsichord’s influence on his compositional career. In a letter to the pianist Harold Bauer, Grainger wrote:

. . . the music [of my] Kipling Settings . . . [is] an outcome of the influence emanating from the vocal-solo numbers-with-accompaniment-of-solo-instruments in Bach’s Matthew-Passion, as I heard it when a boy of 12, 13, or 14 in Frankfurt. These sounds (two flutes and harpsichord . . .) sounded so exquisite to my ears . . . that I became convinced that larger chamber music (from 8-25 performers) was, for me, an ideal background for single voices . . .¹²    

So why not present Grainger’s Handelian romp edited for one player, ten fingers, and two manuals? Grainger’s own arrangement (“dished-up for piano solo, March 25, 1930, [in] Denton, Texas” according to the composer’s annotation in the printed score) provides a good starting place.¹³

Persichetti and Powell

Two major solo works from the 1950s composed for the harpsichordist Fernando Valenti deserve more performances than they currently receive: Vincent Persichetti’s Sonata for Harpsichord (now known as that prolific composer’s Sonata No. One), still, to my ears, his most pleasing work for our instrument, and Mel Powell’s Recitative and Toccata Percossa—another wonderful work included on Kirkpatrick’s contemporary music disc.¹⁴

Duke Ellington

For aficionados of jazz, the 44 measures of Duke Ellington’s A Single Petal of a Rose comprise three manuscript pages now housed in the Paul Sacher Foundation (Basel, Switzerland), available only as a facsimile in Ule Troxler’s invaluable volume documenting the many commissions bestowed on contemporary composers by the wealthy Swiss harpsichordist Antoinette Vischer.¹⁵ About Ellington’s unique work, Mme. Vischer wrote to the composer late in 1965: 

Just on Christmas Eve I received your marvelous piece . . . I am very happy about your composition and I want to assure you of my greatest thanks. . . . could I ask you the favour to give me the manuscript with the dedication to my name as all other composers are doing for me, with a photo from you who always belong to my collection . . .¹⁶  

When Igor Kipnis asked whether I had any idea as to where he might find this score, I shared the citation information with him. Some years later he reciprocated by sending an arrangement made in collaboration with jazz great Dave Brubeck. A damper pedal would certainly make playing even this somewhat more idiomatic keyboard arrangement easier, but the gentle beauties of Ellington’s only “harpsichord” work deserve to find their place in our repertoire. In the spirit of jazz improvisation, I suggest adapting the written notes to fit one’s individual finger span, as well as assuming a free approach both to some of the notated rhythms and repeats, and not being afraid to toy with the tessitura by changing the octave of some notes in order to achieve a more lyrical legato line on our pedal-less instrument.

Prokofiev (for two)

In 1936 Sergey Prokofiev surprised the western musical world by forsaking Paris and returning to live out the rest of his days in his native Russia. One of his first Soviet musical projects was the composition of incidental music for a centenary production of Pushkin’s play Eugene Onegin. In this dramatic and colorful orchestral score a dream scene is integrated with the house party of the heroine, Tatyana. 

In his recent book, The People’s Artist, music historian Simon Morrison writes,

The party scene opens with the strains of a . . . polka emanating from a distant hall. Aberrant dance music represents aberrant events: much like Onegin himself, the dance music offends sensibility. It sounds wrong; it is a breach. Prokofiev scores the dance (No. 25) for two provincial, out-of-tune harpsichords, the invisible performers carelessly barreling through the five-measure phrases at an insane tempo—a comical comment on the hullabaloo that greets the arrival . . . of a pompous regimental commander. There ensues an enigmatic waltz (No. 26), which Prokofiev scores first for string quintet and then, in a jarring contrast, for the two harpsichords . . .¹⁷   

One wonders just how many provincial harpsichords there were in mid-1930s Russia, but this Polka from Eugene Onegin, played at a slightly more moderate pace, has served as a delightful encore for performances of Francis Poulenc’s Concert Champêtre when that enchanting work is performed as a duo with piano standing in for the orchestral parts, just as it was presented by Wanda Landowska and Poulenc in the very first, pre-premiere hearing of Poulenc’s outstanding score.¹⁸   

The Old Gray Mare, at last

Having fêted a pompous general with Prokofiev’s Polka, it is time to explain the reference to The Old Gray Mare. American composer and academic Douglas Moore composed a short variation set based on the popular folk tune to demonstrate the culminating amicable musical collaboration between the previously antagonistic harpsichord and piano, a duet that concludes the mid-
20th-century recording Said the Piano to the Harpsichord. This educational production has had a somewhat unique cultural significance as the medium through which quite a number of persons first encountered our plucked instrument. While Moore’s variation-finale remains unpublished, it is possible to transcribe the notes from the record, and thus regale live concert audiences with this charming entertainment for listeners “from three to ninety-plus.” 

Other musical examples utilized in this clever skit include a preludial movement, the mournful Le Gemisante from Jean-François Dandrieu’s 1èr Livre de Claveçin [1724]; the violently contrasting Military Polonaise in A Major, opus 40/1 by Fréderic Chopin, in which the piano demonstrates its preferred athletic and happy music and then goads the harpsichord into a ridiculous attempt at playing the same excerpt, sans pedal. That confrontation is followed by Jean-Philippe Rameau’s ever-popular Tambourin, which manages to sound nearly as ridiculous when the piano tries to show that it “can play your music better than you can play mine!”—an attempt heard to be futile when the harpsichord puts that notion to rest by playing it “the way it ought to sound.”

The 2012 Aliénor winners chosen by judges Tracy Richardson, David Schrader, and Alex Shapiro from some 70 submitted scores: Solo harpsichord (works required to emulate in some way the Mikrokosmos pieces by Béla Bartók): composers Ivan Božičevič (Microgrooves), Janine Johnson (Night Vision), Kent Holliday (Mikrokosmicals), Thomas Donahue (Four Iota Pieces), Mark Janello (Six Harpsichord Miniatures), and Glenn Spring (Bela Bagatelles). Vocal chamber music with one obbligato instrument and harpsichord: Jeremy Beck (Songs of Love & Remembrance), Ivan Božičevič (Aliénor Courante), and Asako Hirabayashi (Al que ingrate me deja).¹⁹ ν 

Notes

1. Jessica Douglas-Home, The Life and Loves of Violet Gordon Woodhouse (London: The Harvill Press, 1996). Discography (by Alan Vicat), p. 329. 

2. Ibid. Matrices issued in France with the catalogue number P484.

  3. Great Virtuosi of the Harpsichord, volume 3. Pearl GEMM CD 9242 (1996).

4. Three newly constructed two-manual harpsichords built by the piano firms Érard and Pleyel, and by the instrument restorer Louis Tomasini, were shown at the Paris Exposition of 1889, and heard in performances at the event. The modern harpsichord revival is often dated from that year.

5. See Larry Palmer, “Revival Relics” in Early Keyboard Journal V (1986–87), pp. 45–52, and Palmer, Harpsichord in America: A 20th-Century Revival (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989; paperback second edition, 1993), pp. 4–6; page six is a facsimile of the first page of Rigodon.

6. See Larry Palmer, “Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s English Suite for Harpsichord at 100.” The Diapason, December 2009,
pp. 36–37.

7. See these articles in The Diapason: Donna M. Walters, “Henri Mulet: French organist-composer,” December 2008, pp. 26–29; Harpsichord News, August 2010, p. 11; and, for a complete facsimile of the original publication, the issue of January 2011,
p. 12. 

  8. Edition Breitkopf Nr. 4836 “for Piano Solo.”  

9. See Larry Palmer, “The Busoni Sonatina,” in The Diapason, September 1973, pp. 10–11; Palmer, Harpsichord in America: “Busoni and the Harpsichord,” pp. 25–26; the first harpsichord recording of this work is played by Larry Palmer on Musical Heritage Society disc LP 3222 (1975). A fine 2002 digital recording, Revolution for Cembalo (Hänssler Classic CD 98.503) features Japanese harpsichordist Sumina Arihashi playing the Busoni Sonatina, as well as Delius’s Dance, Thomé’s Rigodon, and other early revival works by Ravel, Massenet, Richard Strauss, and Alexandre Tansman.

10. The list of included composers is given in Palmer, Harpsichord in America,
p. 146. Kirkpatrick also recorded this program in 1961. 

11. “Bach Goes to Town,” Angel/EMI S-36095.

12. http://www.percygrainger.org/prog not5.htm (accessed 20 October 2011).

13. Published by G. Schirmer.

14. Persichetti’s ten sonatas for harpsichord are published by Elkan-Vogel, Inc., a subsidiary of the Theodore Presser Company, Bryn Mawr, PA 19010; the First Sonata, opus 52 (1951), was published in 1973. The Powell work remains unpublished.

15. Ule Troxler, Antoinette Vischer: Dokumente zu einem Leben für das Cembalo (Basel: Birkhäuser-Verlag, 1976). Published by Schott & Co. Ltd., London; U.S. reprint by G. Schirmer.

16. Ibid., pp. 99–100. 

17. Simon Morrison, The People’s Artist—Prokofiev’s Soviet Years (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009). The quotation is found on page 130. I assembled the two harpsichord parts by cutting and pasting them from the orchestral score of Eugene Onegin (his opus 71).  I am unaware of any other published edition.

18. Personally I find the balances for the Poulenc much better in duo performances than in live harpsichord and orchestra ones. Another interesting possibility, at least as demonstrated by a recording, may be heard on Oehms Classics compact disc OC 637, where harpsichordist Peter Kofler is partnered by organist Hansjörg Albrecht and percussionist Babette Haag in a compelling performance, recorded in 2009 in Munich.

19. For more information about Aliénor and its history, consult www.harpsichord-now.org.

2012 marks the 50th anniversary of harpsichord editor Larry Palmer’s first published writing in The Diapason: a brief article about Hugo Distler in the issue for November 1962. Since those graduate student days he has taught at St. Paul’s College and Norfolk State and Southern Methodist Universities, served as President of SEHKS from 2004–2008, and is a continuing member of the advisory board for Aliénor. At the Cincinnati gathering in addition to “Gathering Peascods” he played Glenn Spring’s Bela Bagatelles at the Awards recital and chaired the Sunday session devoted to “Swingtime—The Mitch Miller Showdown.” 

Death and taxis in Vienna

A particular obituary that escaped my timely notice reported the death of the recently retired harpsichord professor Gordon Murray, Isolde Ahlgrimm’s successor as harpsichord teacher at the Vienna Academy of Music and the Performing Arts. Early on the morning of March 12, 2017, as he and Alice Rutherford, his 89-year old British visitor were exiting their taxi at the Intercontinental Hotel, a second taxi crashed into them, causing the deaths of both Murray and his guest.

Gordon Murray, born on Prince Edward Island in 1948, became the organist for his minister father’s church (Kensington United) at ten years of age. His Canadian education culminated at McGill University in Montreal, and a subsequent Canadian Council grant funded Murray’s European musical studies in Paris (Marie-Claire Alain) and Vienna (Nikolaus Harnoncourt). His professional academic career began with a teaching appointment in Graz, Austria, in 1982 and continued in Vienna from 1985 until his retirement in September 2016.

J. S. Bach: (Six) Sonatas for Violin and Harpsichord (BWV 1014–1019)

Rachel Barton Pine, violin, and Jory Vinikour, harpsichord

There is much to enjoy on the two compact discs of this recent release from Cedille Records (CDR 90000 177). Two fine musicians play equally fine instruments: an unaltered 1770 violin by Nicola Gagliano and a 2012 harpsichord by Tony Chinnery, based on one built by Pascal Taskin in 1769. Ravishing cantabile and adagio movements, perfect ensemble, and, for the most part, a fine sense for these wonderful Bach creations cited by his son C. P. E. as “among the finest my father composed,” quoted as an introduction to Vinikour’s erudite, well-written notes on the music.

My one reservation deals with some extremely fast tempi for Allegro movements—a trend I have noticed more and more in recent performances. The word Allegro in its Italian meaning indicates cheerfulness, joy, or merriment. Musicians know it as an indication for a lively, quick tempo. I have developed increasing doubts as the liveliness has increased steadily in recent times (or so it seems). 

In the A-Major Sonata (number 2) the opening Dolce is followed by an Allegro movement, a moderate Andante, and the concluding Presto. Surprisingly the Allegro was as fleet as the Presto­—causing one to think of the most recent Triple Crown horse race winner, that speedy animal named Justify—thus giving one an opportunity to dub these two very fast movements “Justify-ed Bach.” Seriously, I think that too many present-day musicians fail to remember that Baroque folk travelled in oxcarts and horse-drawn carriages, not bullet trains or supersonic airplanes. And I do note that I prefer a less-hectic pace as I have grown older (in the latter years of my full-time teaching it became routine for my comment to be “I think I’d take that a little more slowly”).

For an aural comparison I turned to another complete recording of the Six Sonatas played by Emlyn Ngai, violin, and Peter Watchorn, harpsichord (Musica Omnia, 3 CDs, mo0112). These two splendid musicians played the A-Major Sonata in 141⁄2 minutes compared to less than 13 minutes for Vinikour and Pine. In only one of the sonatas did the most recent duo take more time than previous artists: their transcendent F-Minor Sonata lasts about one minute longer—as befits that haunting key. And, to be fair, the accuracy of both artists is impeccable, whatever the velocity!

For one additional sonata, the E Major (number 3), the timings of three recent recordings were all slight variants of 15 minutes plus 1 to 46 seconds. Fortuitously, I found Landowska’s 1944 recording of this same sonata (with violinist Yehudi Menuhin) in my CD collection. Truly magisterial, the great lady stretched her timing to 20 minutes (RCA Victor, reissued on Biddulph LHW 031).    

Communications from Readers

From Edward Clark (Hartford, Connecticut), Re: June 2018 Harpsichord Notes:

. . . I, too, did not know the Dandrieu harpsichord pieces but have enjoyed playing many of the composer’s organ works. You mentioned not being able to find any other recent editions of the harpsichord works. I went online, and at imslp.org discovered not only excellent facsimiles of all three volumes, but also very fine modern typeset editions of all three volumes which were edited and set by Steve Wiberg (Due West Editions, 2007–2009) based on facsimiles of the first printings. These fine editions are available for free download as PDF files or as Sibelius 4 files: http://imslp.org/wiki/Category:Dandrieu962C_Jean-Fran96C396A7ois).

(P.S: The misprint you mentioned in La Champêtre is notated correctly in this edition.)

From David Kelzenberg (Iowa City, Iowa): the newly elected President of the Historical Keyboard Society of North America (HKSNA):

 . . . Did you forget that the first sounds of the harpsichord on Sylvia Marlowe’s iconic children’s recording Said the Piano to the Harpsichord is Dandrieu’s La Gémissante?

LP: Yes, I did forget that. So, I had played at least one harpsichord work by Dandrieu years before writing the June column, since I programmed a live version of Said the Piano . . . for our Limited Editions house concert series—a brilliant performance narrated by Richard Kingston, with Arlington, Texas, colleague Linton Powell at the (electronic) piano, and ye olde harpsichord editor at his beloved Kingston Franco-Flemish harpsichord.

Thanks for reviving that very happy memory, President David. In your honor I have resurrected this one-page Dandrieu gem (the title translates as “Groaners or Moaners” which aptly applies to presidential duties, as I can substantiate from a four-year term in that exalted office for the Southeastern HKS). I have added it to the playlist for a July 1 private concert, my annual event for a local Dallas doctor. Celebrating the tenth year of these July programs, I decided to include some pieces appropriate for a medical professional: Kuhnau’s Fourth Biblical Sonata (Hezekiah’s Illness and Recovery), François Couperin’s La Convalescente (Ordre 26), and Armand-Louis Couperin’s La Chéron (a musician friend, certain to be neurotic) and L’Affligée (certainly may be “afflicted” but the piece is A-L C’s finest solo harpsichord composition).

From Frances Y. Austin (Columbia, South Carolina):

. . .I just read the February Harpsichord Notes and noticed the miniature harpsichord. Wouldn’t a “mini” recording be possible? In my dollhouse I have a replica of the old “pump organ.” Its wind-up sound is like a tiny music box playing Für Elise. Certainly not authentic . . . . My husband is an engineer who is aware of the process by which companies provide recordings in toys (quarter size) and also the ability to record a message in a greeting card. What we’d like to know is where one could get the parts? 
. . . Might someone know how to make an authentic recording that would go inside the replica (or alongside)? . . . .

LP: Of course, in my column I was referring (tongue in cheek) to the wished-for possibility of playing such a tiny instrument in concerts, especially given the advantage of its feather-weight movability. Should any readers have suggestions for Mrs. Austin, please send them to me, and I will forward them to her.

From the Harpsichord Editor’s mailbox

Four recent harpsichord scores 

Carson Cooman (born 1982) is a prolific composer who writes accessible music. He serves currently as Research Associate in Music and Composer-in-Residence at Harvard University’s Memorial Church. A surprise packet containing four elegantly printed scores by Cooman arrived in my mailbox recently. All are “for keyboard” (in the composer’s notes, appropriate instruments are listed as pipe organ, harpsichord, clavichord, lautenwerk, harmonium, reed organ, piano, or electronic keyboard). All are published by Zimbel Press (www.zimbel.com) and distributed exclusively by Subito Music Corporation (www.subitomusic.com).

All four are well-suited to the harpsichord: textures are consistently spare (ranging from two to four voices), and Cooman indicates that long-held notes should be restruck ad libitum on instruments that have a faster sound decay.

Of the four pieces my personal favorites are Three Renaissance Dances, op. 1079, and Prelude, Fughetta, and Allegro, op. 1064, both composed in 2014. The Dances—Pavane (Adagio), Tordion (Vivace), and Allemande (Andante espressivo)­—are faithful to the rhythms and chords expected in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the order of the movements guarantees both variety and interest. Comprising only five pages of music, these dances will not be boring to an audience.

Cooman’s Prelude, Fughetta, and Allegro is “loosely inspired by Johann Sebastian Bach’s Prelude, Fugue and Allegro, BWV 998—a late composition seemingly intended for harpsichord, lute, or most especially, the lautenwerk [a ‘lute harpsichord’]—apparently a personal favorite instrument of Bach,” to quote the composer’s introductory notes. Dedicated to the instrument maker Steven Sørli, these three movements in E-flat major, C minor, and E-flat major are beautifully crafted and could make an interesting pairing with Bach’s work. Use of the harpsichord’s buff stop would suggest the sound of the gut-strung “lute-harpsichord.” Cooman also mentions that “equal temperament is neither expected nor required” for this music.

The two additional scores in the packet are Ricercari, op. 1014 (2013), “inspired by the keyboard music of the early and mid-17th century.” The work consists of one page (3-voice texture) dedicated to Kimberly Marshall, two pages (2 voices) for James Woodman, and a final two pages (4 voices) for Peter Sykes.

Number four, Toccata sequenziale sopra “ut re mi fa,” op. 1063, dedicated to the New England instrument maker Allan Winkler, is a contemporary work inspired by the early Italian keyboard toccatas of Frescobaldi and his followers. In the style of the 17th century, this six-page piece is meant to be played freely, and it comprises both the longest and most harmonically adventurous of these Cooman compositions.

A musicological detective story

Knowing my deep appreciation for well-plotted mystery stories, dear colleague and longtime friend harpsichordist Jane Clark sent me the journal of The British Music Society (aptly named British Music, Volume 38, 2016, #2) in which John Turner’s article “Thank you, Norman Dello Joio! A Voyage of Discovery” appeared in print (pages 24–32). Turner traces the twists and turns that led to his finding of a major musical score by Alan Rawsthorne (1905–1971). The composer’s manuscript was destroyed together with many other pieces and musical instruments during the November 1940 Luftwaffe bombing of his lodgings in Bristol. Unexpectedly, a copy of Rawsthorne’s Chamber Cantata for Voice, Strings, and Harpsichord (1937) was found among the papers of Southern California composer Halsey Stevens (1908–1989), whose legacy is now archived at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.

The link between the UK and the United States must have been the harpsichordist Alice Ehlers (1887–1981) who played the keyboard part at the premiere of the Chamber Cantata in 1937. Ehlers, an early student of Wanda Landowska, immigrated to the United States in 1938, where she was, for many years, a fellow faculty member together with Stevens at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles. Turner surmises that it must have been she who brought her copy of the cantata score to the United States, where, somehow, it became part of the Stevens Collection. (My quick look at Frances Bedford’s Harpsichord and Clavichord Music of the 20th Century provided the information that Stevens composed a two-minute solo harpsichord work for Ehlers—La quarte-vingtaine—in 1967, the year of her 80th birthday!)

There is much more concerning this exciting rediscovery of a “lost” Raws-thorne composition as well as a reference to Walter Leigh’s delightful Concertino for Harpsichord and Strings, which Turner posits may well have been familiar to the cantata’s composer. The connection to American composer Norman Dello Joio is also explained in his article, together with a reference to this American composer’s 1980 solo harpsichord work Salute to Scarlatti and the welcome news that “the first modern performance of the rediscovered Rawsthorne work took place on October 29, 2016, at the Royal Northern College of Music, with Harvey Davis at the harpsichord.”

Mark Schweizer’s 14th
liturgical mystery

It was The Diapason’s editor Jerome Butera who sent me a review copy of Mark Schweizer’s first liturgical mystery, The Alto Wore Tweed. It was, I suppose, not surprising since I had written several columns concerning “Murder at the Harpsichord” (citing mystery novels with a harpsichord connection, not referring to recitals by students or colleagues). My Schweizer review was published in the July 2003 issue of our favorite magazine (on pages 8 and 10), from which I quote:

Here is the answer to all your gift needs: buy a copy of this slim paperback for every person on your Christmas list. Any 144-page book that manages to include references to Charles Wood, Charpentier, Mendelssohn, Hugo Distler, bagpipes, an anthem text in which “Holy Jesus” rhymes with “moldy Cheeses” and “Martin Luther’s Diet of Wurms (the only Diet of Wurms with the International Congress of Church Musicians Seal of Approval)” gets my vote for book of the year.

Well, here we are, 14 years later, at liturgical mystery number 14, and I have read every one of the intervening volumes, each of which has produced a similar (or greater) sense of euphoria, merriment, and admiration for the author’s continued droll sense of humor, ability to create madcap plots, and sheer ability both to instruct and to entertain.

The newest, The Lyric Wore Lycra, which clocks in at 192 pages (like most of us, it has added a little extra heft around its middle), still maintains the Raymond Chandler sub-story set in distinctive typewriter script, is still replete with welcome musical references, and still displays the author’s ability to poke gentle barbs at liturgical matters, the current ones involving Fat Tuesday and Lent, all side by side with several dead bodies and, thus, enough crimes to be solved by sleuth Hayden Konig, police chief of St. Germaine, North Carolina, and part-time organist-choirmaster of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in that small village.

And yes, it is gift-worthy in the extreme, available directly from St. James Music Press (www.sjmpbooks.com). (Request an autographed copy if you wish.) My package of two copies arrived within three days, so the book accompanied me to Santa Fe, where I shared news of its July publication with my hosts, also devoted Schweizer fans. They rushed away from our dinner table to place their order immediately, and they, too, had their books in hand, ready to be read while on their vacation.