Reflections on the historical perspective
An address to the Durham Seminar of the Royal College of Organists, October 1998
- Basso Continuo - Baroque and after
- The Organ Book
- Independent accompaniments
- Reductions of Orchestral Scoring
- The Orchestral Organ Part from Berlioz on
- The Concerto soloist
- ("accompanying" an orchestra or ensemble)
- The Organ as Orchestra substitute
- Choir direction by the accompanist
- Hymns, Psalms and Anthems
- including congregational accompaniment
- "Organ Plus" - organ with other instruments
It can with some confidence be asserted that the accompanying organist faces the greatest number of performing challenges of any musical artist.
Many and diverse skills have over the centuries been added to the time-honoured practice of the art of thorough-bass or continuo playing which may be said to be the most historic of the
techniques necessary for today's "compleat" accompanist.
In broad terms, the organist is especially active in two distinct fields:
The continuo player is charged with the full understanding of the art of realising a figured bass. While it is true that a reasonable effect may be obtained by the use of one of the
"composed" cembalo or organ parts which publishers thoughtfully supply with orchestral sets of baroque music, there is no substitute whatever for the often magical effect of impromptu
realisation within a properly rehearsed performance. Of all the instruments in the band, the organ is the one whose external tonal projection is likely to alter the most between rehearsal and
performance: the presence of an audience to soak up much of the resonance often leads a conductor to complain of inadequate projection during the evening when at the rehearsed afternoon run-through it
appeared that the organ was, inevitably and always, "far too loud". It takes a special skill, and a deal of nerve, to reduce the registration in the afternoon to satisfy the balance within the
acoustic ambience then prevailing and then in the evening to bump the sound up to what the player estimates might or will be appropriate. As a performer it is, surely, well worth risking an
occasional wigging in order to back a hunch. Nothing is worse than an insipid, vapid or neutral contribution from the king of instruments!
A study of visual representations of baroque musical performance can be of great help to the contemporary continuo player with regard to the devising of a stylish contribution towards the
ensemble. It is unnecessary - and, arguably, unstylistic - always to double the bass line, the bassus generalis as Monteverdi and others called it; apart from anything else, intonation between pipe
and string in the lower register is rarely true. There are plenty of pictures by Italian masters showing clearly the organist often using just one hand, mid-keyboard - so there may be said to be plenty
of documentary authority for such a proceeding.
The basis of the continuo player's art can be found in a number of useful primers and auto-didactic exercise compilations, some of which are listed in the biography. Also particularly
helpful for practice purposes in acquiring the skill are readily obtainable examples of gamba or 'cello parts in standard editions of solo baroque sonatas devised for melody instrument and continuo
(both string and keyboard provision). In particular, mention may be made of the Bärenreiter editions of violin sonatas by Corelli, Handel and Bach (but in the latter case, avoid those essays with
"written out" or concertato style harpsichord parts) and of flute sonatas by Handel. By using the string bass part, the student is presented without the beguiling additional temptation of a
keyboard reduction. In general terms, current editions of vocal scores of baroque cantatas from publishers of the calibre of Henle-Verlag, Bärenreiter and others, contain full figuration beneath the
continuo line and a modest, sometimes stylish, suggestion as to realisation of the continuo harmonies.
There are many schools of thought with regard to cadences of baroque vocal recitatives. As a general rule of thumb, it used to be the case that in opera many of the cadences would be placed
simultaneously with the close of the vocal line. In oratorio, a more reflective approach often placed the cadence later, after the vocalist had concluded - for the obtaining, possibly, of additional
pathos and verbal expression. Increasingly, contemporary performance practice on these matters varies considerably. For a very sound, common-sense approach to this vexed issue (which is one that most
definitely needs well and truly sorting out in, and or before, rehearsal) see the late Watkins Shaw's very informative preface to the revised (1992) vocal score of his edition of Handel's Messiah
Many standard modern editions of eighteenth century material (including Shaw's edition above and Neil Jenkins's new edition of Bach's St Matthew Passion) utilise smaller print
size for editorial realisation of continuo parts which makes embellishment or replacement of such material much the easier.
Within the distinguished and comparatively recent blossoming of the long-established traditions of English Cathedral, Collegiate and Parochial music was additionally involved, until
relatively recently, a playing style of sufficient projection to direct the singing choir as well as the congregation. It is sad that the skill of choral direction from the keyboard is now a dying
art, as the "organist" invariably assumes the role of choral conductor and the "assistant organist" is in fact if not in name he or she who always plays the organ.
In terms of the orchestral setting of the instrument, composers from Berlioz onwards have sought to expand the provision of scoring for the organ far beyond the previous confines of acting
merely as an adjunct to the bass line.
The "Organ Book" often found in the libraries of English cathedrals and choral foundations presented a reasonably comprehensive part for the organist at a time when the vocalists
sang invariably from single lines. It needs to be remembered that the "vocal score" of the last century and a half is a relatively recent innovation. Continental publishers still issue single
vocal line parts of a vast amount of sacred choral music.
Over elaboration on the organ of the basic vocal parts and fussy instrumental decoration in eighteenth century English church music is to be deplored, especially as the singers themselves
would often, extempore, decorate and embellish the musical lines; some guidance in this matter can be gleaned from Dr Christopher Dearnley's excellent volume in the Treasury of English Church Music
dealing with the period 1650 to 1750 (previously Batsford, now Cambridge). Less happily, a freer approach to the organ parts in some of his published editions of separate scores seem extraordinarily
complex and can be less than helpful to singers of average ability. Though it is clear professionals would probably relish the challenge of singing against such virtuoso keyboard contributions, it has to
be a little doubtful as to whether such interpretations are really appropriate in a liturgical setting. But, in terms of the music of the singers, the graces, shakes and other ornamentation of solo vocal
lines often lend a powerful degree of joy, pathos or other strong mood to very atmospheric settings by composers of the calibre of Pelham Humfrey, Michael Wise and - pre-eminently - the great Henry
Thomas Attwood Walmisley (1810-1856) is generally credited with the devising of the first independent organ part to an English choral setting since the continuo settings devised the days of
Henry Purcell, and the fully scored accompaniments of figures such as S S Wesley, Basil Harwood, John Joubert, Bryan Kelly, Kenneth Leighton and William Mathias have gone one stage further in disposing
their accompaniments over three staves in the normal manner of organ music.
Besides those who conspicuously featured the king of instruments in a solo role, as choral accompaniment, or - with other instruments - antiphonally to the full orchestral ensemble, are
important figures such as Mozart and Mendelssohn. Both men scored, as (very occasionally) had Bach and Handel before them, for the organist as an obbligato player. Among the more gorgeous and often
ear-tickling examples of such provision can be sited a limited number of Bach Cantatas in which the organist acts as concertato soloist, as well as some lovely use of the instrument as obbligato in the
Mozart Solemn Sunday Vespers. In such instances are often to be found some of the most tricky problems of musical balance and consistency of finger dexterity in the whole repertoire with the player
removed from the traditional role of musical polyfilla (completion of internal harmonies being of course paramount); the projection of lyrical solo lines in instances such as the original version of
Haydn's Missa in Angustiis (or "Nelson" Mass) suddenly becomes a prime concern.
To Mendelssohn belongs the distinction of providing the organist with first-class fully written out parts. Even Beethoven in his visionary Missa Solemnis left the individual keyboard player a
considerable amount of latitude very much in the same manner as, generally, did Haydn and Mozart notwithstanding such exceptions of the famous "orgelsolo" masses and the examples quoted earlier.
Mendelssohn's particular distinction as a virtuoso organist is well-documented; his prowess seemed to thrill everyone in Britain on his visits here with the exception of the hard-pressed
vergers and organ-blowers at London's St Paul's Cathedral who are said to have been less than enthusiastic at his lengthy free improvisations at the close of Evensong on his visits to that
metropolitan church. In Lobgesang (the vivid choral finale to the 2nd Symphony) and St Paul, the organ is used as an important binding resource on the musical texture and the same is true in the
remarkable Birmingham Festival commission, Elijah. But in the latter work, there are a number of instances where the organ makes a very telling contribution - not least of these being the thrilling
sustained C major chord at the height of the dramatic chorus (No 38) Then did Elijah the Prophet break forth like a fire. Performances without organ are much the poorer at this point, and at several
places over which the composer wreaks elaborate harmonic and contrapuntal havoc over a sustained pedal point. (To an extent, and not a very considerable one, a timpani roll or resonant double-bass
playing can make amends in some of these circumstances - but there is no substitute in a Victorian concert hall for a purring 32 open at such instances).
Mendelssohn's influence on English music was profound and in all of the major choral works of Elgar is the organist provided with a wonderfully idiomatic part - often music requiring
great sensitivity of execution; few concert hall instruments of the neo-classical sort contain a timbre soft enough for that sustained haunting minor third in part two of Gerontius just before the
magical entry of the semi-chorus towards the end of part two when the soul declares "I go before my Judge". Never forgetting a furious conductor at Leeds early in my time who bewailed my
insensitivity over tea after the rehearsal for failing to play the plaintive strain quietly enough (it was the softest stop I had available), a blanket was sent to cover over the particular rank to
achieve the desired effect - the pipe mouths of those two notes were also turned round to face into the instrument rather than towards the auditorium. In Gerontius, too, the instrument is of pivotal
importance to in the gently undulating modal accompaniment to the quasi-plainchant litany in part one - "Noe, from the waters in a saving home"; at this point the organist is involved with
music of heart-rending beauty and contained passion.
Elgar did not confine his contributions to his choral pieces; there are significant parts for the last of the evocative Enigma variations and for the sweeping processional towards the end of
the overture Cockaigne. Far more deft effects are to be found within the organ part for the full orchestral accompaniment to the lovely part-song The Snow.
Elgar's younger contemporaries used the instrument similarly. Holst, in his Suite for Large Orchestra The Planets provides for a spine-chilling glissando, and Vaughan Williams puts the
full organ atop the texture in Job, where its use during Scene VI (the Dance of Job's Comforters) is of spine-chilling intensity. Although cued into the orchestral material, the use of the organ
alone with timpani after the shattering gong-stroke is a masterpiece of scoring. In The Planets just mentioned, Holst is often less lucky with the resulting effect of one of his most remarkable scorings
for organ - the glissando in Uranus looks absolutely nothing on paper, but when the left hand is held (as experts such as the RPO's long-serving Dr John Birch tell us that the composer intended) the
upshot is thrilling to a degree. Among the most exciting recordings of the Suite is one where the organist uses a specially souped-up Yamaha keyboard voiced at quadruple forte from top to bottom of its
range and that really is audible over the full band! One famous musician asserted that he had not heard a better effect since the early performances of the piece at London's Queen's Hall between
Another important but much less-well known work of Holst's is the Choral Fantasia produced for the 1930 Three Choirs' Festival to a text by Robert Bridges. This is one of the
most powerful of all shorter English choral pieces, and, like Dyson's almost erotic setting of Hierusalem, surely deserves to be far more frequently performed.
So much for a brief glimpse at the historical background.
TECHNIQUES OF THE ENSEMBLE ORGANIST
The Principal Challenges are the requirements for
Clarity is much concerned with rhythm. The only method of achieving the illusion of accent on the organ is by agogic means - that is to say the slight delay of a main pulse to achieve
placement and the effect of musical stress or metric pulse. Rhythm for the organist is thus bound up wholly and completely with articulation, though the hideous extremes to which some players go to
convey the impression of rhythmic vitality defy description.
In the field of accompaniment, Registration is paramount. Whether playing with an orchestra or ensemble, or acting as a substitute for it, the player has the greatest responsibility in the
choice of stops - Registration can make or marr your efforts. Most instrumentalists loathe the sound they think the organ produces, and non-organist conductors in an age of super mega hi-fi plus are much
more fussy than in the past. Among the hardest things that solo instrumentalists find about the organ are:
- the indiscriminate use of too much upperwork, especially in what a discerning organist might regard as "textbook" chorus buildup
- the difficulty of hearing with ease the sound the organist is making
- the challenges of ensemble, of keeping together
the inability of many organists to weed out their accompaniments of mindless and unnecessary doubling of the solo line which presents huge challenges of intonation for your ensemble partner or partners.
Fortunate indeed is the organist early in his or her career whose personal relationships with fellow musicians, especially orchestral players, are on a level sufficient to sustain an open and
frank exchange of views. Organists are seldom as open to criticism as other instrumentalists, whose whole focus is spent on developing "their" sound. Most of the time, our colleagues merely
complain about the organ playing fraternity behind its collective back, sometimes with a sad shake of the head, at other occasions merely dismissing anything we might do as simply lacking in sensitivity
In terms of registration, mixing diapasons and flutes and coupling unison ranks together over two, three or even four manuals will generally produce the warmth of sound that one's playing
and singing colleagues require. The omission from chorus build up of tiresome, cloying four foot principals and their substitution by flutes or gambas is a great help, as is the avoidance of mixturework
containing heavily prominent quints at various pitches.
As with choral accompaniment, it should be the aim to surround one's colleagues with organ tone, even at vast climaxes, not to obliterate them by the use of the same harmonic aura already
in aural focus. Thus, the ingredients that provide the basis - the tingle factor, if you like - of the Cathedral Full Swell are a mixture (or separated upperwork above the level of say a 15th) and a
double reed: anything else is likely to drown a group of singers during psalm playing. Yet, beneath just a contra fagotto, a mixture and an octave coupler for brilliance one can lay with success a
well-voiced 32 foot, flue or reed without in any way obscuring the choral timbre.
Another very important facet of registration is the scaling of individual stops, so often a far more acceptable input can be made by us in consort work by the use of 16 foot tone played up an
octave, or using couplers and unison off. Arthur Harrison's choir and solo organs abound in special mechanisms to deploy what are in concept 16 foot reed timbres at higher pitch and 4 foot flute
timbres at a lower one, with the provision of an extra twelve pipes to accommodate the transpositions undertaken mechanically.
Another Harrison speciality on that firm's tonal table d'hôte is that of the provision of Geigens at differing pitches on the Great and Pedal organs. Transform your concept of hymn
playing by drawing the 16 Geigen, with 8 and 4 to go with it and playing hymns whose harmony is basically static chording up an octave. You will never again experience that ghastly lethargy from your
congregation in the majestic yet elusive Darwall's 148th or the sadly now overused, and always over-fast, Blaenwern.
The deployment of melodic timbres and pitches mentioned earlier in the obbligato material for the Haydn and Mozart repertoire is also quite a challenge. Though it has no historical authority
whatever, the 8 and 2 foot flute combination so beloved of the neo-Baroque players of yesteryear is extremely useful, and - importantly - is a sound which nearly every wind supply copes with without
Genuine music purpose built for organ and another resource - such as some of the instrumental output of Rheinberger, and - in more recent times - that of the Czech master Petr Eben (whose
70th birthday was celebrated in 1999) is, of course, a joy to encounter. Composers of our own time tend to provide precise instructions for registration. Transferring directions from the scores of
continental writers needs care, and the conventional English voicing (in general rather less outgoing and forward focussed) may result in the need to employ colourings to the basic sounds delineated - a
four foot flute (and possibly a Nazard or softish 12th) with an oboe, for instance to give greater harmonic interest. In our solo music, especially Franck and Jongen, we tend to do this without a second
thought, purely on grounds of the need for ambient musical colour rather than a blander tone.
Registration is, of course, not merely connected with the selection of stops, but with their imaginative deployment during the course of a piece. We have to face the fact that many listeners
find organ sound dull - this is far more of an indictment against the player rather than the builder of organs. In a good "room" as the Americans would say, acoustic is the more usual English
term, an organ of any tradition proffers a rich kaleidoscope of colour. Just as with the wonders of the child's changing colours, the best effects are produced by steady continuum rather than by
frenzied, fractious movement. Pistons are or can be a blessing, especially at the outset of movements - pianists rarely keep their soloists waiting on the concert platform! But wholesale use of pistons,
especially general pistons, during the course of a movement can be a distraction to player and listener and also fail in providing that degree of continuing support as well as rapport often denied us by
dint of a lack of eye contact between soloist(s) and keyboard. Be one's shoulders never so expressive, it is very disconcerting for a sensitive and experienced soloist to stand on the floor of a
church unseeing of his fellow artistic collaborator high up in an eyrie. Closed-circuit TV is not an answer! - and ALWAYS strive to avoid using microphonic foldback if you possibly can. Better a
slightly splodged chord or two in ensemble terms and the electric feel that can ensue without these modern day mechanical aids. The late Ralph Downes probably knew more about the market in shaving
mirrors than any other human being alive!
Avoiding wholesale stop changes on main beats by dove-tailing things in and out on subsidiary pulses of the metric bar will do a lot to maximise the horizontal at the expense of the
pernicious verticality which encumbers so much organ accompaniment. The capacity to sustain timbre and enhance voice-like lines is the organ's best attribute. So few players seem prepared to
capitalise on the splendid sound-world which the instrument can open up.
Besides the technical detail of actual playing in terms of accompaniment, there is the need for every accompanist at the organ to be something of a musical editor. Far too often vocal scores
of standard choral works are disposed with only the piano in mind. Dr Watkins Shaw's 1992 revision of the accompaniment to his edition of Messiah is a real step in the right direction and may do
something to dispel the unadventurous player's generally hopeless attempts at standard numbers such as Why do the nations where an organist playing a piano part verbatim can equate in sound to the
equivalent of a badly-told joke by a stage comedian.
Arranging from Baroque orchestral originals is, of course, an art with a highly distinguished pedigree, and one perfected by the great Bach himself. The sparseness of the texture of the
immortal Schübler chorales is so successful because of the essential harmonic richness inherent in Bach's counterpoint. Yet as an example, performances with voices of the famous verse from Sleepers,
wake DO need, as John Rutter and others have realised, to possess a semblance of continuo harmony in the left hand which is rendered superfluous by the richly registered and stylish Baroque registration
of the organ transcription. The same is true of famous solos such as How beautiful are the feet from Messiah and, especially, I know that my Redeemer liveth.
Returning to Bach, it is interesting that the fuller American arrangements, by Virgil Fox and others, of the beloved interluded chorales such as Jesu, joy and Mortify us by Thy goodness
(although far more difficult for the solo organist to play than some of the standard English arrangements) are, paradoxically, enriched as a result of the rather more opaque timbres of the American
For the accompanist with limited time for study, the various ready made and commercially-published transcriptions of scores as diverse as the Requiems of Brahms and Fauré and Saint-Saëns'
Christmas Oratorio from the house of Schirmer have much to commend them, not least being that it is possible to play them from cover to cover without the need for a page-turner. From Hinrichsen come
Marmaduke Conway's settings of the accompaniments to Messiah, Creation and Elijah.
Sadly, many of the anthems which have survived the backlash against everything Victorian and oratorio excerpts in particular are from works of which not suitable organ setting is readily
available - notably St Paul of Mendelssohn and the Christmas Oratorio of Bach. Study of the full orchestral scoring, in actuality and also through its harmonic implications, is crucial to success here,
as much as is the understanding of piano resonance in transferring accompaniments such as Schubert's Ave Maria to the organ from the piano original: here, as elsewhere in arpeggiated pianism, the
richness of the soundboard makes left hand continuo-like provision an essential ingredient in the mixture.
In terms of congregational accompaniment, the would-be exponent has much more upon which to draw. There are literally dozens of collations of last-verses readily available in print, whereas
only a few years ago Thiman and Bairstow survived in splendid isolation as remnants of an elaborate tradition spear-headed by the likes of Basil Harwood and C H Lloyd at Eton, Sydney Nicholson - the
founding father of the Royal School of Church Music. The remarkable figure of J Lionel Bennett also claims a mention. His imagination might have given him a very promising career as a film producer
had he chosen to go in that direction. Of today's exponents of the art, Noel Rawsthorne and Harrison Oxley lead the field in terms of good taste and economy of expression combined with maximum
Everything to do with clarity of intent, registration, projection, articulation and phrasing already outlined is needed to the fullest extent by the concerto player. In all honesty, this is
work that does not come our way as organists very often. But, dare one say it, the very best concerto players are most often those whose experience as an accompanist is as great, if not greater, than
theirs as a solo recitalist - no names, no pack-drill! The number of fine recordings of the essays of Saint-Saëns and Poulenc (to take two examples one from each of the 19th and 20th century) gives
testimony to the enduring popularity of these pieces. Among the most superlative examples are those of Ian Tracey (in one of England's most volatile acoustics) in which the ensemble between soloist
and orchestra is entirely exemplary from first to last - this sort of playing makes him the envy of his colleagues! Nothing in the Poulenc work is harder than Grade VII standard Associated Board, but the
placing, phrasing and nuance demands the utmost concentration from the player to say nothing of the challenges of keeping abreast with the orchestral strings and drums.
Most concerto appearances would probably involve earlier repertoire, the marvellous works of Handel and, to a lesser extent the Haydn concerti especially. The Handel pieces present formidable
musicalogical and textual challenges for the player, not least being the provision of ad libitum movements and cadenzas. The Mozart Epistle sonatas are easier in terms of ensemble and do not require
violas, but the flexibility and virtuosity of the two violin parts make them rather more challenging and sometimes less successful in performance. Stylistically, Mozart for the organist is a far harder
nut to crack than the earlier styles of Handel and Bach. All this repertoire was probably in the first instance directed from the keyboard, so if a separate conductor is utilised (or the first
violin given the responsibility), the organist and director must be at one with regard to matters of phrasing, bowing and articulation as well as tempo and sonority.
Only in recent years are English organists coming to terms with a number of superb works from the pens of composers of the calibre of Dupré and Jongen, as well as - from our fellowcountrymen
of the calibre of Michael Berkeley, Francis Jackson, Kenneth Leighton and William Mathias. All these concertos have received reasonably regular broadcasts, and Dupré and Jongen are now readily available
in recorded performances after years of obscurity.
The pedals play the major part in congregational accompaniment. Octaving up (and down, something the books tell you never to do!) are crucial aids to rhythmic clarity, while melodic
delineation is well-served by busking the left hand and soloing on the same manual up an octave - a technique much beloved of cinema and theatre organists. The other most significant aspect is that of
regularity of rhythm, but one could go on pleading for that for ever. Rhythm in hymns needs flexibility, especially at line-ends. Absolute rock-steady rhythm within the confines of each breath should be
more important than charging on helter skelter between lines and verses. In well-known Plainchant hymn melodies, it is crucial to grasp with firm hands the full harmonic implications of the chant. This
is a technique perfected in many simple harmonies to folksongs for use in schools, the study of which can show us much of the effectiveness of preparing the harmonic implications of the next phrase at
the end of a previous one: being married to the mode and governed by academic inflexibility is a great mistake. WRITE OUT IN FULL your expanded accompaniments for chant melodies - this music is far too
fine, and its successful performance by a large congregation too often elusive, to be left to chance.
In working with other instruments, avoid doubling the melodic line (even if done by a reputable composer) and - in Baroque works - run the risk of leaving the bass line to the cellist or
doublebassist or both (especially in quieter movements). Always be mindful that the organ is far less of the daily experience of the average instrumentalist as it is for the committed choralist; be
prepared to take far more time in rehearsal and take to heart how stressful working with the organ can be for the really experienced soloist. Try and get your soloist(s)/player(s) to agree to a very
early preliminary skirmish in the setting of the event before publishing a programme. Develop a long fuse, and LISTEN to their musical concerns. We may be in charge of the King of Instruments, but
the most signifcant attribute for any accompanist is humility and personal support rather than dictorial insistence. Be prepared to CHANGE your registrations having got them all fixed. When working with
an orchestra, ALWAYS remember that the conductor's viewpoint at rehearsal will be one thing; at a performance with a changed acoustic hoperfully dampened by a substantial attendance you may well be
found to be inadequate in terms of decibels and projection having been "oh far too loud" in the afternoon! It is not uncommon for a player to need to transpose the whole of the climax in the
Saint-Saëns 3rd Symphony up an octave at the concert in order to be heard above the orchestra; failure to grasp that particular mettle or to use the octave coupler with the shimmering strings in the
Adagjo when it was, clearly, unnecessary at the rehearsal can provide intense disappointment during the course of a work in which the organ is given the most wonderful opportunity to shine.
Above everything else, remain adaptable in the performance itself. Stay alert, and - if you ARE fortunate enough to be able to see the Conductor, try to take on board as much as you can from
the maestro's body language or facial expression. DON'T PANIC if you cannot see the Conductor - the best music comes from the heart and the ear. I remain eternally grateful as a student for the
chance to work in rehearsal and performance with many of the leading figures of post war performance; such opportunities are probably rarer to-day, but the demands for music other than that provided by
the organ in church and cathedral are increasing ever more and more - the challenge is there, awaiting our response. The publishers are aware of it, and some are proving responsive. Let us hope that this
need will stimulate a revival in the study of the techniques that go to make the complete organist, not just one who plays solo repertoire to a level of perfection the standard of which seems to increase
in consort with the decline in standards of musical accompaniment.
ELGAR - Dream of Gerontius, Part One (64 - 65 full score) - NOVELLO (Music Sales)
FAURE - Requiem (1900 Edition, Hamelle, Organ Part pp. 11-12, 20-23) - UMP
HANDEL - Messiah (Prout, 1902, 1942 Vocal Score, pp 50-51, 60-61, 152) - NOVELLO
MENDELSSOHN - Elijah (Kalmus, New York, Organ Part, pp 12-15) - GEE MUSIC
MENDELSSOHN - Elijah (Vocal Score, pp 145-146) - NOVELLO
MENDELSSOHN - Hymn of Praise (Vocal Score, pp 51-52) - NOVELLO
MENDELSSOHN - St Paul (Vocal Score, pp 108-112) - PITMAN
PEETERS - Ubi caritas et amor (Vocal Score, pp 1 & 3) - CRAMER MUSIC
POULENC - Organ Concerto (Organ Part, pp 21-22) - UMP
SAINT-SAENS - Organ Symphony (Organ Part in full) - GEE GROUP
VAUGHAN WILLIAMS - Job (Organ Part in full) - OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS