Thursday, March 20, 2008

Issue 30 - Maundy Thursday & Good Friday

Since this Friday, March 21st, happens to be the birthday of Johann Sebastian Bach, I couldn't let Maundy Thursday and Good Friday go without playing Bach. The prelude for Maundy Thursday is Bach's "Lamb of God, Most Holy". I wrote about it last year in [Bookends]; you may read about it here: http://bookends-sjlc.blogspot.com/2007/03/palm-sunday-and-maundy-thursday.html.

For Good Friday, I thought it fitting to play Bach's monumental Passacaglia in C Minor. A passacaglia (from the Spanish passa-calle, as in 'walking on the street') refers to a series of variations in triple meter, set over an ostinato (repeated) bass. Over the years, scholars have desperately tried to assign a definitive meaning to the progression of the variations in this towering work - the most Romantic assertion being that the tonal architecture of the Passacaglia mirrors a Christian cross. And while such claims are nearly impossible to validate without Bach's own testimony, we do know that Bach was a deeply spiritual person whose music is riddled with hidden numerical construction pointing to his favorite numbers, musical spellings of names, and other cryptic, Christian symbolism - so much so that Swedish theologian Nathan Söderblom deemed Bach "the fifth evangelist".

The Passacaglia in C Minor opens with a single statement of the theme in the pedal upon which builds the first variation in the manuals - the harmony suspends on over the bass and resolves after the first beat, creating a sighing effect which the great Bach biographer Philipp Spitta described as the affekt of "painful longing." After 10 variations over the pedal, the theme migrates to the manuals and stays there for 5 variations before returning to the pedal. These final 5 variations gradually increase in texture to reaching its pinnacle in the a grand C-minor chord which concludes the passacaglia. (The 21st variation is a lengthy fugue on the theme, but since the passacaglia alone is over 8 minutes, the fugue will be omitted on Friday).

There is indeed a sort of solemn and resolute progression to the Passsacaglia in C Minor which makes it a perfect fit for prayerful preparation to the Good Friday service. While we have no indication that the piece was intended for such an occasion, we do have glimpse into the intent in Bach's compositions from his existing manuscripts on which he wrote Soli Deo Gloria (to the Glory of God alone).

(Image: manuscript copy of the Passacaglia in C Minor by J. S. Bach)

Friday, March 7, 2008

Issue 29 - Ralph Vaughan-Williams

It seems like a shame to go through Lent without playing Rhosymedre (My Song is Love Unknown) by Ralph Vaughan-Williams (1872-1958). Since I played all-Brahms for last year's Lent, I couldn't let this Lent go by without playing it as a prelude. It's one of the more recognized pieces in the repertoire and people seem to really love hearing it. It's specifically appropriate to play during this Lent because we've been singing the hymn Rhosymedre immediately following the sermon every week. In the prelude by Vaughan-Williams, the hymn melody is first presented in the left hand, accompanied by a moving bass line and a treble obligato of sixths. The melody then moves to the soprano voice, with the churning sixths still accompanying in the inner voices until it finally descends back to the tenor voice as a coda to close the piece.

More fantastic in character is Vaughan-Williams' setting of Lord, Enthroned in Heavenly Splendor, the postlude for this Sunday. The opening and closing sections are improvisatory and surround an inner, imitative setting of the tune. Both the prelude and postlude are taken from Vaughan-Williams' Three Preludes on Welsh Hymntunes, published in 1920.

Born in Gloucestershire, Vaughan-Williams studied at the Royal College of Music under monumental English composers such as Charles Villiers Stanford and Hubert Parry. However, he also traveled abroad and studied composition with Max Bruch in Berlin and Maurice Ravel in Paris. Vaughan-Williams didn't come back from abroad to merely live in England - he ended up writing music that actually embodies the English countryside and song. Through his travels of England, he was responsible for preserving much of the folk songs of his native land by notating carols and songs that might have otherwise become extinct. He also composed several hymns, the most beloved in our congregation probably being "For All the Saints".

An interesting piece of trivia I learned today: Charles Darwin was Ralph Vaughan-Williams' great uncle!

(Image: Ralph Vaughan-Williams, age 4)

Friday, February 15, 2008

Issue 28 - Bridge and Bach

For Lent II, the prelude will be Frank Bridge's "Adagio in E Major" for organ. This is one of those pieces that I've wanted to play for a long time and am glad it's now officially in my repertoire. Frank Bridge (1879-1941) was an English musician and composer, chiefly employed as a violin and viola player in many of London's symphonies and string quartets. However, he did write a handful of music for the organ - most of which I've never heard. This Adagio is well loved and often played by organists, so one might surmise that it's one of his better compositions for organ. While its melody leans toward schmaltzy (I hate to admit), it still has a very poignant and "typical" English, Romantic organ style to it. Opening on the softest of stops, Bridge plays with the melody in every voice with different accompanying figures, all the while dictating a crescendo until the melody's culmination. The denouement that follows brings the organ back to its quieter resources and Bridge ends the piece as it opened: with a simple statement of the melody.

The Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543 is among the many of Bach's famous organ works. The fugue is really quite long (but wonderful), so I'll only play the prelude to close the service. The prelude shows a solid relationship to the North-German heritage of praeludia: the opening right hand solo which eventually gives way to a toccata, the dominant pedal tone underneath the fantastic figuration in the hands and, finally, the use of stile brisé (outlining chords by breaking them up in a falling, improvisatory fashion). It's easy to imagine the young Bach improvising a postlude like this on any given Sunday at one of his posts. The opening, impromptu figurations eventually give way to a more structured repartee between the manual (keyboard) and pedal based upon the opening toccata figure. The conversation gradually escalates until its summit is reached.

(Image: Frank Bridge)

Friday, February 8, 2008

Issue 27 - Mendelssohn's Sixth Sonata, Op. 65

I'm particularly excited about the prelude and postlude music for Lent this year. Some of it is music I've played and loved for a long time - others are pieces that I've been yearning to play and finally am getting a chance to learn. For Lent I, I'll be playing the first movement (which is actually a chorale and four variations) from Mendelssohn's Sixth Sonata for Organ, Opus 65. (For some history on Mendelssohn's role in the revival of organ music in the Nineteenth Century, see Bookends Issue 8.)

Initially commissioned as Voluntaries (a shorter composition in a Classical style), Mendelssohn revised these compositions into the eventual "Six Sonatas, Opus 65" published in 1845. There's nothing consistent about these Sonatas - they range in length from eight to fifteen minutes and have anywhere from two to four movements. William Little writes in his forward to the Organ Sonatas, published by Novello, "In musical terms the Six Sonatas are neither sacred nor secular, if one could ever reasonably argue such a distinction. More to the point, however, Opus 65 is Mendelssohn's final statement for the organ, and in it he sums up all that which had gone before and simultaneously formulates a whole new genre for the nineteenth century and thereafter."

The Sixth Sonata is particularly true of the above statement. It opens with the chorale "Vater unser im Himmelreich" which is a sung version of the Lord's Prayer (ELW 746). The first three variations on the chorale will be played as the prelude and the final variation (a fiery toccata) will close the service. The second movement is a fugue and the third movement closes the sonata with tranquil and sweet Andante (a striking departure from the Classical sonata of the previous era which typically had the movements Allegro - Andante - Rondo). In this sonata, we see Mendelssohn's respect and admiration for the past (most importantly the works of J. S. Bach) by electing to base the work on a sacred Lutheran chorale as well as including a Fugue (which reached its compositional height during Bach's era) as an entire movement within the Sonata. Yet he moves the organ repertoire forward into Nineteenth Century Romanticism through his compositional style and harmonic language as well as his subtle, Romantic sensibility.

(Image: Felix Mendelssohn)

Friday, November 30, 2007

Issue 26 - Wake, awake!

In 1731, Johann Sebastian Bach wrote cantata 140, Wachet Auf, ruft uns die stimme. Approximately fifteen years later, he took the fourth movement from it, grouped it together with 5 other movements from various cantatas, and transcribed them for organ solo. They were published by Johann Georg Schübler and have been nicknamed "The Schübler Chorales". The prelude this Sunday, Wake, awake (Wachet auf) is the first in the set. You'll hear the solo hymn melody (ELW 436, verse 2) in the left hand on a trumpet stop (in the cantata, this line would have been sung by the tenors). The right hand and pedal imitate the string orchestra accompaniment.

Albert Schweitzer, a pivotal historian in the interpretation of Bach's music, beautifully illuminates the music in this quote: "[The movement] is dominated by a simple dance melody. With this the chorale melody is combined dissonantly, as if it had nothing to do with it; the cry of the watchman strikes into the music of the procession that is drawing nigh with the bridegroom. In order that this may have its proper rural quality, it is written for the strings in unison, with an accompaniment in the contrabasses."


If you love the music of Advent as much as I do, I invite you to join me this Thursday, December 6th, at The Cathedral Church of St. Paul (815 High Street, Des Moines) at 12:10 for an organ recital of Advent music. If you're not the type to attend organ concerts, I encourage you to give it a try - just this once! Not only will it be great music - but I think you'll enjoy hearing the organ at St. Paul's which is built in a French style (in contrast to our organ at St. John's which is modeled in a German style). Not all organs are alike - and it's a real delight that in Des Moines there are such a great variety of wonderful instruments to hear and play. Hope to see you there!

(Image: Bach's seal: how many times can you find his initials?)

Friday, November 16, 2007

Issue 25 - The Musicians of St. Clotilde

This week's prelude and postlude are from organists who make up the rich legacy of musicians at St. Clotilde Basilica in Paris. By European standards, St. Clotilde is a relatively new church, its neo-Gothic structure completed just in 1857. The first organist at St. Clotilde was the father of French Romantic organ music: César Franck, who was inspired by the church's new Cavaillé-Coll orchestral-style organ to take French organ music in a new orchestral direction that was a complete departure from the past.

During Franck's tenure at St. Clotilde, Théodore Dubois (1837-1924) was choirmaster during the 1870's. (You may know Dubois' most beloved composition, The Seven Last Word of Christ.) This Sunday's postlude, the Toccata in G, is among the most well-known of his organ works. It's a very typical French Romantic toccata and parts of it might even remind you of Widor's Toccata from Symphonie V (which was composed ten years before Dubois'). Dubois opens with a lively toccata - however, the development section that follows is a clever juxtaposition between a lyrical hymn on the swell and the toccata material on the great. Dubois then reintroduces the toccata and closes the piece with a triumphant hymn.

Jean Langlais became organist at St. Clotilde in 1945, nearly sixty years after Franck's death. Langlais is definitely a "modern" composer and while his works might not be tonal in the Classical sense, they never cross over into the atonal either. I personally have a great affection for Langlais' music - it has a personality unto itself that is quite playful and his more dramatic compositions, while skeletal in nature, have a depth that really captivates me.

The prelude this Sunday (by Jean Langlais) is Chant de Paix (Song of Peace) from his Neuf Pièces pour Orgue. The collection was written in 1943 in the midst of World War II and also contains Chant Héroïque which was an homage to his friend Jehan Alain (famous French organist and composer) who was killed in battle as a French soldier. The Song of Peace is slow with an ascending legato melody that is traded between the pedal and right hand. The melody slowly rises in large, deliberate leaps and finally ends on a major triad that holds for, well, a long time - Langlais literally writes "long" above the final chord, thus indicating that the resolved chord should keep its peaceful tone reverberating in the sanctuary for as long as possible.

(Image: St. Clotilde Basilica, Paris)

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Issue 24 - The French Classical

If ever there was a musician to bask in the radiant wealth of the Sun King, it most certainly would be Louis Marchand (1669-1732), composer of this week's postlude. Appointed organiste du roi in 1708, Marchand dazzled not only Versailles and Paris with his virtuoso technique, but later toured Germany –thus impressing a young Bach at Weimar in 1713. Unfortunately, Marchand’s reputation would be eternally scarred four years later when he was invited to a musical challenge with Bach in Dresden; it was reported that Marchand, intimidated by his competitor’s prowess, fled Dresden before the contest to avoid embarrassment. Another happening which questions Marchand’s artistic taste was his promotion of his pupil, Daquin, to receive the organist post at St. Vincent-de-Paul – a faux-pas, considering that Rameau (a more favorable musician and composer) was also in contest for the post.

While Marchand’s seemingly arrogant attitude did not serve him well in history’s pages, the Dialogue in C Major certainly proves his craft. The piece opens with a triumphant fanfare on the Grand Jeu (a chorus of boisterous reed stops), after which ensues an actual “dialogue.” First, a call and answer between the Trompette in the dessus (right hand) and the Trompette in the basse (left hand). Second, a statement and echo from a chorus of Trompettes to the distant reeds on the swell. Marchand closes the piece with a lively gigue and a final fanfare. (This piece is about 9 minutes - so I cut several sections out for the postlude to shorten it!)

Although the birth year of Nicolas de Grigny (1672-1703) nearly coincides with Marchand’s, these two composers’ output could not be more contrasting. Both composers utilized the same building blocks to create their music: pieces that accentuated the grandeur and subtleties of the French Classical organ… trios of flutes, basse de trompettes and dialogues on the superbly balanced manuals of the organ. But these traditional forms marked a breaking point for the young de Grigny – only twenty-nine years of age when his only works were published in his Premier livre d’orgue. It is in his five hymnes for organ that his highly innovative writing shows its majesty – his subtle use of the plainchant melodies in the hymn movements and his complex contrapuntal writing are a departure from typical French Classic composition - so much so that J. S. Bach copied the entire work by hand so he could study and play it.

The title of the prelude, Récit de tierce en taille, literally tells the performer that the melody is in the tenor voice (or left hand) and requires a specific solo sound. While the meter of the recit is usually slower to accommodate the highly melismatic nature of the melody, Gaspar Corrette, in 1707, challenged organists to achieve the true nature of the piece. “The tierce en taille demands languidness and nuance, then sweeping passages, full of movement …imitating the singing voice as far as possible.” De Grigny’s extensive ornamentation and superior writing make this recit one of the greatest masterpieces in the French Classic repertoire.


(Image: Organ at the Royal Chapel, Versailles)

Friday, October 26, 2007

Issue 23 - Ein feste Burg

It's been a while since I've written a [Bookends]... but my last entry for [Bookends] was about Vivaldi's Autumn from The Four Seasons and I went on and on about how much I love Autumn. With some of the events going on with my father's health lately, I honestly have to say that Autumn will probably never be the same for me again. However, I was reminded this week of yet another reason why I absolutely love Autumn... any Lutheran wouldn't be surprised to hear me say, "Reformation Sunday"!

Being that Ein feste Burg (the hymn "A Mighty Fortress") is considered to be the "Battle-Hymn of the Reformation", of course my prelude and postlude are all based upon this great hymn to which Martin Luther composed the melody and text.

My prelude is actually a set of three chorale-preludes on Ein feste Burg which ends with a setting by Johann Gottfried Walther (1684-1748), (not to be confused with "The Father of Lutheran Music", Johann Walther (1495-1570), whom the Cathedral Choir is singing at 11:00). I love this prelude setting because the melody is easily discernible in soprano voice and highlighted by strong
vorimitation.

All week, I am listening to what, to me, is the greatest Reformation music I know,
Joshua Rifkin's recording of J. S. Bach's Cantata 80: Ein feste Burg. If I could play the middle chorale movement (Und wenn die Welt) on organ alone as the postlude, I would (but alas, no organ transcription exists, so that's my next project once I'm done transcribing the Vivaldi!).

However, the postlude I've chosen for this year was written by Timothy Albrecht - and I think he, too, loves the Bach cantata, for Albrecht's ritornello material definitely pays tribute to the
2nd movement from the cantata. The ritornello that surrounds the hymn tune is festive and captures the spirit of the hymn well, while hymn tune, itself, is boldly proclaimed on the Festival Trumpets in a rhythm that echoes the original rhythmic character that Luther composed (ELW 503).

Enjoy - and Happy Reformation!


(Image: Ein feste Burg with Martin Luther's signature)

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Issue 22 - Autumn

Autumn is, by far, my favorite season... that unforgettable sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet, the smell of pumpkin seeds crisping in the oven, the glow of candles from within hollowed pumpkins... I'm lucky that I now have a daughter to drag along on pumpkin and apple picking expeditions! This Sunday, September 23rd, marks the Autumn equinox - a great weekend to premiere my transcription for organ of Antonio Vivaldi's programmatic "Autumn" from The Four Seasons.

While program music seems to be something that originated in the Romantic Era, in truth, it only blossomed then. Composers put forth music that was programmatic in nature in the earliest of times - I've played many Renaissance pieces on harpsichord that are such. Of the Baroque period, The Four Seasons stands out as the most well-known and most obviously programmatic piece composed.

What exactly is program music?

"The underlying theory of program music, as described by the man who coined the term, the Hungarian composer Franz Liszt (1811–1886), is that the composer must allow the program to determine the actual form of the piece. The introduction and unfolding of the various musical elements, in other words, must reflect the unfolding of the story or the progression of images." (Miles Hoffman, The NPR Classical Music Companion)

The "program" for Autumn is found in the sonnet that Vivaldi wrote to accompany the concerto and is listed below. Each paragraph paints the image for a movement from the concerto. The text-painting is vivid and if the performer weren't exactly sure of how each word is portrayed in the composition, Vivaldi actually put matching letters in the sonnet and score to show where the text is being played out through the music. In several other instances, he actually writes words in the score to accentuate the program, such as "guns and dogs barking" or "the fleeing beast".

AUTUMN by Antonio Vivaldi

Celebrates the peasant, with songs and dances,
The pleasure of a bountiful harvest.
And fired by Bacchus' liquor,
Many end their revelry in sleep.

Everyone is made to forget their cares to sing and dance
By the air which is tempered with pleasure
And by the season that invites so many,
Out of their sweetest slumber to fine enjoyment.

The hunters emerge at the new dawn,
And with horns and dogs and guns depart upon their hunting
The beast flees and they follow its trail;
Terrified and tired of the great noise
Of guns and dogs, the beast, wounded, threatens
Languidly to flee, but harried, dies.

The first movement will be played as prelude music (about 4 minutes long if you want to make it in to listen in time), the second movement will be played during communion and the third movement will be played as the postlude. Enjoy!

For information about the genesis of the transcription for organ, click here.
(Image: Autumn at Wildcat Mountain State Park, WI.)

Friday, September 14, 2007

Issue 21 - Toward an understanding of Buxtehude

Dieterich Buxtehude's Fuga in C is one of those little gems in the organist's repertoire. It is often referred to as a Gigue Fugue because of its compound meter of 12/8 and contrapuntal nature (contrapuntal literally means note-against-note so that one or more voices are working independently rather in moving together in harmony). This short fugue is so merry and playful; it shines in the midst Buxtehude's other organ repertoire, the ornamented and serious chorale-preludes and the grand and severe praeludia.

Dieterich Buxtehude (1637-1707) is probably one of the greatest German Baroque composers to precede Johann Sebastian Bach. Born in Denmark, Buxtehude grew up in Helsingør and studied organ with his father, who was organist at St. Olai, still one of the largest churches in Denmark. While the first 10 working years of his life were spent at churches in Denmark, Buxtehude moved in 1668 to Germany to claim the organist post at St. Mary's in Lübeck, the most prestigious appointment in the country.

[Bookends] will focus on different things each time I play a work of Buxtehude's, for there is much to say about him. However, an interesting supposition is made about Buxtehude's life from the very work that the Cathedral Choir is singing this Sunday at 8:45, Buxtehude's opening concerto from the cantata Everything You Do. This is the one of his most dearly loved cantatas of today and of Buxtehude's time, for it is present in all three of the collections of manuscripts of his vocal music, thus showing its popularity.

Kerala J. Snyder, author of Dieterich Buxtehude: Organist in Lübeck writes of reasons for its popularity during Buxtehude's time and shows what insight into his life the cantata can offer:

"Alles was ihr tut (Everything You Do) offers no visions of heaven, no intimacy with Jesus, no distressed souls. In a straightforward musical style, almost completely homophonic in texture, it addresses itself to the concerns of the ordinary citizens in the workaday world... Buxtehude, himself, seems to have taken his place comfortably in Lübeck's society. On the one hand he ranked as the most respected musician in the city and had frequent dealings with its political and financial leaders. On the other, he was a member of the fourth class of this society, and the obsequious phrases in his letters and dedications indicate that he knew his place. The words from the chorale that he set [in a later movement of Everything You Do] may have articulated his own feelings as well:

"So I stretch out my hand, and undertake with joy the work
To which God has destined me in my vocation and class.

"The few words that others wrote about him during his lifetime and shortly afterwards add little to the picture of Buxtehude that is seen in [these] documentary sources. Much as we would like know further details concerning Buxtehude's life, they would be worth little if we did not have his music. And we do have his music..." The words of Kerala Snyder fascinate me... for all we have is the work of historians to pull together compositions, writings and related documents to create a picture of the master whose works we perform.

Click here for previous issues about Buxtehude.
(Image: Dieterich Buxtehude)

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Issue 20 - Well-known and well-loved!

Can you hum any of Edward Elgar's music? Let me answer for you... yes! Whether or not you realize it, we can all probably hum the music that is played at commencement and graduation ceremonies all over the world, Pomp and Circumstance. It's probably the most often played composition of Elgar's. However, the Enigma Variations are a close second for this English composer of Romantic works. Comprised of 14 variations on a theme, they were originally composed for orchestra. Elgar accompanies each variation with a set of initials and therein lies the mystery or "enigma" as to whom the variation is dedicated and depicts.

The 9th variation is the prelude music for this Sunday. Titled "Nimrod", it refers to Elgar's best friend. Some people would describe this piece as the portrait of English Romantic music. It is noble and generous in character ~ understandable why it is loved by so many. I am specifically excited about playing this on Rally Sunday because our opening hymn, "O God Beyond All Praising", is another English Romantic iconic composition taken from Jupiter from Gustav Holst's The Planets. It's an honor to play these two pieces so close to each other at the start of our worship!

In regards to Rally Sunday: if Larry Christensen is going to be splashing around in the dunk tank this Sunday, then I guess I need to play something equally as splashy for the postlude! The Toccata and Fugue in D Minor by J. S. Bach is the most famous work for pipe organ. Whenever I meet someone in an airport and they ask what I do, their eyes brighten as I inevitably get their rendition of the opening trill of the Toccata.

This is one of those pieces that, trust me... you know it and can hum it (or at least the beginning of it). I have, over the years, shied away from playing this piece in church for various reasons... Is it too showy? Is it played too often? Has this piece become exhausted through it's abundant use in popular culture to where people can only hear Phantom of the Opera or Fantasia when listening to it? As of today, my answer to all these questions is... no! This piece is so well known because it is a great piece... and people like to listen to great music. So, why not start the Fall with a splash by playing Bach's most enduring organ work: The Toccata and Fugue in D Minor! (There's more to say about the history and composition of this piece - but I'll save writing about that for another year when I play it again!)

(Image: Oldest known manuscript of the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565, J. Rinck)


Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Issue 19 - Sarah Garner... In Concert!

Before weekly issues of [Bookends] start up again on September 9th, I have another preview of what's coming to the St. John's organ bench this fall. On Sunday, October 14th at 4 p.m., Thrivent Financial and Friends of the Arts at St. John's are presenting my debut recital as your St. John's organist!

The opportunity to play organ repertoire that just doesn't fit into the "prelude", "postlude" or "communion music" mold is very exciting. There's an incredible body of concert organ music that deserves to be performed in Central Iowa. This concert is the first opportunity I'll have to contribute to that scene - and I can hardly wait! Adding to this excitement is the fact that nearly all the recital music is newly learned. Many of these pieces, I fell in love with when I heard friends at Eastman play them. It isn't until now that I've had the opportunity and time to learn them. It's a program that I love playing - and I hope to which you will love listening!

The program opens with the impassioned Étude Symphonique by Enrico Bossi, a tour de force for the pedal that marries the Italian Romantic style with virtuoso passagework, creating a spectacular rhapsody for The King of Instruments!

After that opener, I'll probably need a little break! So I'm following it with two shorter pieces for organ by Mozart and Schumann. While neither of these composers wrote much for the organ, these pieces are true gems in the organ repertory. Following these treasures will be the Concerto in D Minor that Bach arranged for organ after the same work by Antonio Vivaldi. It's a lovely and spirited concerto that combines the accessibility of Vivaldi's writing with Bach's unparalleled arranging for the organ.

I love to perform modern works for the organ - especially those of American composers. So, I'm thrilled that the centerpiece of the recital will be three of Calvin Hampton's Five Dances for Organ. This is NOT modern music that you have to "think" about. The titles to each dance are clever and descriptive... you can really let your imagination run wild while listening. I look forward to the audience's response to them!

The penultimate piece will be Louis Vierne's gorgeous Claire de Lune. This is a piece that I've played for nearly fifteen years and I never tire of it. It's gorgeous... and even though it's French Romantic piece, it works beautifully on our German-style organ. The conclusion of the recital is the Allegro Deciso from Marcel Dupré's Évocation. I can't imagine a better way to close the recital than with a fiery, French organ piece. It's what makes listening to and playing the organ so fun!

I hope you'll come and share this great music with me on October 14th. The recital is just an hour long and nursery care will be provided for your little ones. So bring the whole family to hear the St. John's organ in great splendor!

Friday, August 17, 2007

Issue 18 - Antonio Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons"

I've taken a little break from [Bookends] this summer... but weekly issues will be back starting Rally Sunday, September 9th. However, here's a preview of what's coming to the St. John's organ bench in 2007-2008!

The Four Seasons is a set of four concertos for solo violin and string orchestra by Antonio Vivaldi. Written in 1723, each concerto is named for a season of the year. Vivaldi also wrote sonnets to be read with the seasons which are an oral depiction of the music. This spring, a bride requested that I play some of "Spring" at her wedding. I declined, informing her that I didn't know of any transcriptions of the piece for organ.

Out of curiosity, I would occasionally look for arrangements and eventually it became an obsession to find a transcription for organ of Vivaldi's The Four Seasons. No luck though --- all that exists are easy organ arrangements of "themes" from the concertos. This meant that the real "meat" of the concertos, which lay in the virtuoso violin solo part, wasn't in any of arrangements. Certainly, I couldn't be the only organist that would like to play a transcription of these beloved concertos!

So, after not much consideration at all, I decided that I would transcribe the complete work for organ. Larry Christensen honored my request to have it included as part of the St. John's Fine Arts Series for 2007-2008 and the works will be premiered this year! Here is when you'll hear the concertos: "Autumn" - September 22 & 23; "Winter" - January 12 & 13; "Spring" - April 12 & 13; "Summer" - June 21 & 22. They will be played as prelude, communion and postlude music on the weekends listed.

I have to give a huge thank-you to my husband, Mark Garner. He inputted the transcription into an actual engraved score (so that I don't have to decipher my scribbling on staff paper). Seeing the music printed on paper has helped me make revision, after revision, after revision... something that would have been nearly impossible if I'd had to rewrite the score every time I wanted to make a change. (Thank you, Mark!) Also, I've enlisted the eyes and ears of Susan Jane Matthews, a colleague and dear friend from school, concert organist and all-around scholarly woman. She'll be playing the transcription throughout the year at her church in San Francisco. I've asked for her feedback with the hope that organists will appreciate the arrangement and that once I've transcribed them all, a publishing house might be interested in it.

I hope you'll enjoying hearing The Four Seasons from the St. John's organ bench. I've been having great fun working on them and making it possible to play on the organ. I'd love to hear your feedback after hearing "Autumn" on September 23rd. Get out your recordings and prepare to hear The Four Seasons as you never have before!

(Image: Antonio Vivaldi)

Friday, June 22, 2007

Issue 17 - 20th Century Germans

I'm writing this post so late this week --- most readers probably won't get it until after the weekend... sorry! I spent the afternoon exploring some ideas I have for repertoire for next year... before I knew it, Katie had awoken from her afternoon nap and I hadn't even started [Bookends] for the week!

Very briefly, my prelude this week is the Andante from Paul Hindemith's Second Sonata for Organ. While Hindemith (1895-1963) is a founding father of modernism in music, he is considered neo-classical and paid homage to Bach in his compositions (especially true of his compositions after 1930). Hindemith turned away from the atonal music of his contemporaries, believing that harmony and melody were at the heart of sincere music. The Andante from Sonata II (written in 1937) has to be one of my favorite pieces for organ. It's undeniable that it has what I consider a sterile, German character --- yet the work does not leave the listener parched. While at times the landscape in this piece could remind us of a desert, Hindemith creates a mirage of lush harmonies, directing us to believe our thirst has been quenched.

Paul Hindemith had a complicated life in Nazi-Germany... married to a Jewish woman, yet swore and oath to Hitler... conducted at official Nazi concerts, yet emigrated eventually to the United States. Hopefully I can explore that more in further [Bookends].

My postlude this week is Praeludium by Hermann Schroeder (1904-1984). I decided to pair this with the Hindemith since Schroeder was also German. While Schroeder does not have the weight of influence upon the musical world that Hindemith did, he is indeed an important modern German composer for the organ specifically. Hindemith's neo-classical influence can be seen in Schroeder's works, yet Schroeder was more strongly influenced by ancient Gregorian chant and open harmonies.

(Image: Paul Hindemith)

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Issue 16 - Bach as father

The prelude and postludes this Sunday were composed by J. S. Bach and are based on the great German hymn Allein Gott in der Höh sei Ehr. The hymn can be found in the LBW at 166. In the LBW, the hymn is placed under the section for "The Holy Trinity". (If I'd been in town on June 3rd, I might have played these to go with Holy Trinity Sunday!) But the text truly works well for any time of year. This hymn was the traditional Gloria that was sung during Bach's time. (In our services at St. John's, it would be sung in place of "Now the feast and celebration... " or "This is the feast of victory..."). We call it a "Hymn of Praise" instead of a Gloria.

In honor of Father's Day, I thought it might be fun to focus on J. S. Bach as a father (as opposed to J. S. Bach as the greatest of composer of all-time!). Piecing together surviving documents about Bach paints a delightful picture of his family life.

In an excerpt from disciplinary writings regarding the 21-year-old Bach when he was organist in Arnstadt, we learn of his courtship with his first wife: "Thereupon ask him by what right he recently caused the strange maiden to be invited into the choir loft and let her make music there". Soon after, he marries the previously referred to "young maiden", Maria Barbara Bach (who also happened to be his cousin). They were married thirteen years and had seven children (four of whom survived childhood) before Maria Barbara died in 1720.

A year later, Bach (then 36) married 20-year-old Anna Magdalena who, like Bach, came from a musical family. Her father was the court trumpeter in Weissenfels and her mother's father was also an organist. Anna Magdalena was a fine musician in her own right and assisted Bach in transcribing many of his compositions. Together, they had 13 children - more than half of whom died during childhood.

J. S. Bach boasts about his family in this letter in search of a new job in 1730: "...The children of my second marriage are still small, the eldest, a boy, being six years old. But they are all born musicians, and I can assure you that I can already form an ensemble [made of] both [voices] and [instruments] within my family, particularly since my present wife sings a good, clear soprano, and my eldest daughter, too, joins in not badly."

Johann Nicolaus Forkel (1749-1818) was the first biographer of J. S. Bach and wrote this of Bach's character, "Besides Bach's great merit as so accomplished a performer, composer and teacher of music, he also had the merit of being an excellent father, friend and citizen. His virtues of a father he showed by his care for the education of his children." Bach indeed taught his children well; several, including Carl Phillip Emmanuel, went on to be more famous and prosperous then even Bach was at that time.

Carl Phillip Emmanuel Bach wrote this of his father in 1754: "Of his moral character, those may speak who enjoyed association and friendship with him and were witnesses to his uprightness toward God and his neighbor." I can't imagine better praise written about a father by his son!

Happy Father's Day!

(Quotations from "The Bach Reader" edited by Hans T. David and Arthur Mendel, 1945)
(Image: “Bach with his Family at the Morning’s Devotion” by Toby Edward Rosenthal)

Friday, June 8, 2007

Issue 15 - Compositions from blind organists

This Sunday's prelude and postlude happen to be by blind organists/composers. Neither of the compositions are based upon or related to the scriptures for this Sunday. However, I thought that occasionally during the long "general" time of summer I would try and work in some compositions that may not necessarily be closely tied to the lectionary.

"Voluntary Op. 5, No. 6" is the prelude this Sunday. John Stanley (1712-1786), the composer, did not have an extensive output of music. However, he did write several of these voluntaries... thirty of them to be exact! These voluntaries are meant to played with a louder and softer (or echo) trumpet stop on the organ, giving them the nickname of Trumpet Voluntaries. This Sunday, you'll hear the solo voice on mixtures instead (with the magnitude of temperature fluctuation this spring, I don't think you'd want to hear the smaller trumpets on the organ right now!)

Stanley was born in London, and though he was about 25 years younger than Handel, they were indeed friends. Stanley's wicked memory gave him ability to direct Handel's oratorios and memorize the accompaniment by hearing it just once (as played by his sister-in-law). Blinded in an accident at age two, Stanley began studying piano at age seven and organ at age nine with Maurice Greene (organist at St. Paul's Cathedral). By age eleven, he was appointed organist at All Hallows. By age seventeen, Stanley became the youngest person ever to obtain the Bachelor of Music degree from Oxford University! The last seven years of Stanley's life may have been his career's crowning achievement as the Master of the King's Musick.

2007 happens to be the centennial birthday of Jean Langlais (1907-1991). I will be playing "Pasticcio" from his Organ Book (1957) as the postlude. Also blinded at age two, Langlais was later sent to the National Institute for the Young Blind in Paris where he began studying organ. 1922, André Marchal noticed the talented Langlais and prepared him to enter Paris Conservatoire. Once admitted, Langlais studied organ with the great organist/composer Marcel Dupré. Continuing to follow in the footsteps of the great French organists, he became organist at St. Clothilde in Paris in 1945 (a post that both César Franck and Charles Tournemire once held).

"Pasticcio" starts out sounding like a medieval fanfare. Just wait though... in a few more measures, you'll begin to hear the modern French writing. The daughter of André Marchal (who discovered and taught improvisation to Langlais) wrote this of "Pasticcio":

"As for the Organ Book, it was written as a wedding gift for me and my husband Giuseppe, and in the last piece, Pasticcio, Langlais managed to use both our names, Jacqueline and Giuseppe, with the Braille system of notation. The fact that the Langlais family lived two doors away from us brought us closer together..."

I hope you'll enjoy these compositions from just a few of the many famous blind composers from whom we've received such great gifts!

(Image: Jean Langlais at the organ console, St. Clothilde)


Thursday, May 31, 2007

Issue 14 - The Augsburg Organ Library

You'll all be happy to know that Bonnie Corron will be at the St. John's organ bench this weekend. Thanks to Bonnie for giving us an opportunity to hear her again! Since Bonnie will be preparing something great for this week's prelude and postlude, I thought I'd take this opportunity to share with you an exciting aspect of my work at St. John's.

Part of my compensation as organist is a music allowance. I've never before had the luxury of a music allowance (except from my parents when I was young!) --- so this is a great gift, especially since scores are so very expensive.

So, how to spend it? Buying just one Bach score (of the highly esteemed Barenreiter edition) can cost upwards of $50. It's such a dilemma, trying to get good value and also good music. As it happens, I'm already close to owning all 9 volumes of the Bach, but it didn't seem like that would be the best way to use the churches money anyhow. (I mean, I'd love to play Bach every Sunday, but maybe not everyone wants to hear Bach every Sunday!)

Earlier this spring, I came across "The Augsburg Organ Library". Published by our ELCA publishing house Augsburg Fortress, "The Augsburg Organ Library" is a collection of 9 volumes of organ music containing mostly hymn-based repertoire. Each volume is dedicated to different seasons/occasions of the church year (Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Summer, Baptism & Communion, Autumn and November).

Once I started researching the composers and music contained in the volumes, I knew that this would be a great resource of music for our St. John's organ. I went wild and bought 4 volumes! I just counted eight pieces that I've already played from the "Augsburg Organ Library" as preludes & postludes. The variety of composers include Vaughan-Williams, Rutter, Manz, Mark Sedio (who's hosting a Hymn Festival at St. John's next spring!), and many more. What a treasure that Augsburg Fortress would put together such an outstanding collection for us organists!

So, thank you to the members of St. John's. What a treat to have a music allowance to buy great music for our worship services! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

(Image: Augsburg Publishing House, Minneapolis, 1891.)

Friday, May 25, 2007

Issue 13 - Third of Three

The organ music this Sunday helps us celebrate Pentecost - don't forget to wear red! The prelude is by Dieterich Buxtehude (1637-1707) who was organist in Lübeck and the postlude is by our great Lutheran ancestor, J. S. Bach (1685-1750). There's a great story that all organists love about Bach's admiration of Buxtehude. In 1673, Buxtehude helped bring to national prominence his Abendmusik (meaning: evening music), which was a series of concerts paid for by local businesses, and therefore free to the public. In 1705, Bach (who, at that time, was a young twenty-year-old working in Arnstadt) walked nearly 250 miles to Lübeck to hear Abendmusik and hear the great organist Buxtehude. He stayed there for three months to learn from the master.

Come, Holy Ghost, Lord God (LBW 163) is the tune upon which Buxtehude's chorale-prelude is based. Although modern Lutherans may not know the tune anymore - it's a Lutheran favorite upon which many composers wrote chorale-preludes. Buxtehude's setting employs vorimitation which literally means "imitation before". The accompanying left hand usually gives a hint of the chorale melody to come by improvising on the tune, creating a gracious overture to the entrance of the highly ornamented melody which is played on a brighter sound in right hand. Vorimitation is a technique that's been passed down through the ages (you may notice that I use vorimitation when improvising on hymns during communion).

The hymn tune upon which the postlude is based is Come, Holy Ghost, Our Souls Inspire (LBW 473). This German hymn is a metered version of the famous Pentecost plainchant Veni, Creator Spiritus (LBW 472). (At 8:45, both offering and communion music happens to be based upon this chant). In Bach's setting, the melody is declared twice: first in the soprano line and then again in the pedal line. In the first, soprano statement of the melody we get a glimpse of how Bach illuminates the Holy Spirit in the music:

1.) The meter is 12/8. So, while the melody is in dotted quarter notes, the accompanying voices underneath are essentially triplets. While this gives a gigue-like feel to the piece, it also symbolizes the Holy Trinity.

2.) The accompanying alto and tenor voice are mostly in 3rds throughout, once again underscoring not only the Trinity - but also the 3rd person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit.

3.) Finally, the pedal line only plays on every third eighth note. This clearly accentuates the relationship of the Holy Spirit within the Trinity.

In the second iteration of the melody, the accompaniment in the hands has been interpreted as tongues of fire whirling above the heavy hymn tune in the pedal. Again, Bach uses three voices to create the fiery accompaniment. While Bach's music is so challenging to play, the rewards are great --- not just in music, but in spirit, too!


(Image: "Pentecost" by Dr. P. Solomon RAJ)

Friday, May 18, 2007

Issue 12 - Not all canons are rounds!

This Sunday's prelude is based upon the sermon hymn, LBW 206, "Lord, Who the Night You Were Betrayed". The hymn tune was composed by Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625), a famous composer and organist at Westminster Abbey and the Chapel Royal. David Cherwien composed the organ chorale prelude based upon that tune.

This prelude setting of the hymn is a canon. While the right hand plays a soft accompaniment of running triplets, the left hand and pedal play the melody of the hymn in canon. It's a really beautiful arrangement, very peaceful - and the canon creates a delicate duet between the left hand and pedal.

So - what is a canon? Most simply put - a canon has a melodic leader and a imitating follower. The leader (in this case, the left hand) begins "singing" the melody and follower (in this case, the pedal) sings the same melody but one measure later. We've all sung rounds like "Row, row, row your boat"... well, a round is the simplest form of a canon. In a round, the follower voices sing the exact same melody as the leader... round and round it goes. All rounds are canons.

However, NOT all canons are rounds. Canons can be much more complicated than rounds. For instance, in a canon, the melody may repeat at an interval four or five notes higher than the original melody. Or a canon may have the follower invert the melody (meaning that if the leader sings five climbing notes, the follower would sing five descending notes instead). Or a canon can be in retrograde (meaning that the follower would sing the melody backwards!). The crab canon is where the leader and follower sing at the same time but the follower is in retrograde. Mensuration canons are where the follower's melody may be lengthened or shortened by some proportion of the original (for instance, quarter notes might become half notes for the follower).

Of course I had to write some canons while in school. It is NOT easy. To compose a melody that's beautiful and interesting, but will also work in canon is quite difficult. And to compose a canon that would work in inversion, retrograde, mensuration --- well, I don't think I ever succeeded in writing one of those!

Composers of the Renaissance (like Gibbons) embraced the challenge of canons and even enjoyed writing what are known as Puzzle Canons. This is where only the leader's melody is written. The composer will then give a clue as to what kind of canon to perform. In Guillaume Dufay's mass L'homme Armé, he gives the clue: Cancer eat plenis et redeat medius (Let the crab proceed full and return half). So, the melody is first performed in full note values and retrograde (since it's a crab), then in halved values and retrograde (which would mean forward motion since retrograde of retrograde would be forward).

No worries, the prelude is a simple canon. You'll easily be able to discern the imitating melody. In fact, one phrase of the melody doesn't work in canon without becoming extremely dissonant --- so Cherwien just breaks away from the canon and sets it in chorale style. Once that phrase is over, it's back to the canon to end the piece. Enjoy!


(Image: "Crab Canon" by M.C. Escher)

Friday, May 11, 2007

Issue 11 - Charming sonatas from an austere father!

The second movement of J. S. Bach's Third Sonata for organ, marked Adagio e dolce (translation: at ease and sweet), is this Sunday's prelude. A few short years after assuming his post in Leipzig at Thomaskirche, Bach wrote six sonatas for the organ. They are affectionately known by organists as "The Trio Sonatas" - accurately nicknamed "trios" because the sonatas have just a three-voice texture (pedal, left hand & right hand playing each just a single line).

If you haven't ever heard any of Bach's Trio Sonatas, then I think you'll really enjoy these. They are very accessible for the listener - for those who find Bach difficult to listen to or hard to understand, I would highly recommend a CD of the Trio Sonatas because of their chamber-music quality. Peter Williams, in "The Organ Music of J. S. Bach", aptly describes this virtue which makes the Sonatas so delightful:

"...[the melodies] are even less like most other organ music. Rarely if ever would such a melody be found suitable for a chorale prelude or for any of the usual fugue types ...the quality of the melody suggests either a kind of sparkling, witty line or a somewhat plaintive melodiousness, both of them charming and curiously abstract."

While I would recommend The Trio Sonatas to the beginning Bach-listener... I would NOT recommend The Trio Sonatas to the beginning organist! Any sort of trio on the organ is notoriously difficult. The reason? The organist must engage one hand on each manual and both feet in equal skill. No room for error here... the texture is so thin and the composition so aptly exploits the device of imitation that just a slip in concentration can derail the entire piece - bringing the charming music to a disastrous halt! Most concert organists won't perform a Trio Sonata in public unless they've played them for years in private! (I'm playing a slow movement, so hopefully I can hold my concentration during it.)

J. S. Bach dedicated the Trio Sonatas to his eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach (1710-1784), who went on to become a great organist in his own right. Obviously his father knew the best regimen of compositions his son should practice. Of course, it was a running joke at school among the organists --- how much did Bach really love his son if he composed these impossible pieces for him to learn?

The postlude on Sunday is the Sinfonia from Bach's Cantata No. 29 - it was arranged for organ by Robert Hebble. This is a postlude that I hope to play at least once a year --- so I'll write more about it the next time I play it. The title of Cantata No. 29 is "We Thank Thee, God" - and the joyful character of the Sinfonia is fitting for that title.

(Image: Wilhelm Friedemann Bach)