Dr Karen McAulay explores the history of Scottish music collecting, publishing and national identity from the 18th to 20th centuries. Research Fellow at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, author of two Routledge monographs.
I’ve started writing an article about the Leng Scots Song contests. I haven’t yet decided where it’s going to be submitted, or how long it’ll be! I just want to get a rough draft done first. But what I do know is that I’ve got some thirteen to fourteen hours of recorded interviews absolutely laden with interesting anecdotes about how the competitors decided what to sing, how they felt about standing up and singing unaccompanied, and lots, lots more. Only earlier this week, I heard from a relative of someone who entered in 1931. I was able to provide them with a photo of the youthful competitor, making for one very happy relative. I feel as though I’ve done a ‘good deed’ this week!
I have lists (of course I have lists; you can’t beat a good list!) of songs, and interviewees, and schools, and song books – sifting through all my gathered information is quite a herculean task in itself.
And now – talking about writing – I’m heading out to a calligraphy class tonight. It’ll be fun to focus on the physical art of putting ink on a page, after a day toiling over a laptop and deciding what to write about, in which order!
Postscript. On second thoughts … the clumsy, left-handed child that I was, came back to haunt me this evening. There will be no elegant copperplate from me, tomorrow or any time in the future. (But I can type very fast …)
WordPress reminded me today about a blog post that I originally wrote three years ago for WhittakerLive, the Whittaker Library blog.
I shared it again in 2024, and because I am an admirer of Francis George Scott’s work arranging Scottish songs, I thought it would be worth airing again today.
A few years ago, I was awarded a research grant to set up a network which I called ‘Claimed from Stationers’ Hall’, looking at historical legal deposit of music in British copyright libraries.
My research has moved on since then, but the bibliography that I built up may be useful to other people researching legal deposit. There are items of general interest, before the references to music copyright as such. It’s all on a page of this blog. People don’t always realise there are other pages, so I thought it was worth sharing the link again:-
Claimed from Stationers Hall Bibliography: Literature on Music Copyright:-
Remember, I wrote a fancy last verse arrangement for a hymn, a few weeks ago? Well, yesterday I sallied forth to do my organ practice, and came back determined to go one step better than last time. This time, I wouldn’t write a fancy last verse, oh no!
I’d write a whole chorale prelude. In other words, instead of writing a fancy harmonisation to accompany the congregational singing, I would write a whole solo piece for the organ, and play it before the service.
Writing ‘last verse’ arrangements and chorale preludes both share one feature: the hymn tune is there, providing a kind of framework which the arranger/composer works around, like decorating a house or building an extension – but the house itself is still visibly the same. So, the hymn tune is usually audible. Johann Sebastian Bach wrote dozens of chorale preludes. But sometimes JSB lengthened and ornamented his tune until it would only have been recognised by someone listening keenly – like, ‘O Mensch, bewein dein Sünde gross’. That’s the genius of the man, because he created something divinely beautiful out of a tune that was originally very simple. Here’s Anne-Isabelle de Parcevaux playing it:-
Sigh! I can envisage JSB’s organ pupil coming up to him, breathless with admiration and excitement, as the great man tidied away his music. ‘Herr Bach, what a magnificent prelude you have written! Divine!’ But for us ordinary mortals, the chorale prelude format is primarily a useful device to write something appropriate for a particular Sunday or occasion, and we don’t anywhere nearly approach Bach’s brilliance.
In my own defence, it was Harvest Festival today, which is quite a special occasion, and it’s all the more meaningful in a village church where there are farmers. Yes, I’m sure everyone buys their food in supermarkets, but there’s still a special connection with the land that you wouldn’t find in an urban church.
‘We Plough the Fields and Scatter’
It’s one of my favourite hymns. I was determined to write something fairly slow and gentle, despite its usual brisk and upbeat mood, since no-one really wants the organist belting out something loud and brassy before the service. People do converse – it’s not a recital. The louder you play, the louder people have to shout over you, and it’s easy to ruin any sense of quiet reverence or anticipation.
Ploughing a Lone Furrow?
OK, so I’ve set the scene. It was going to be meditative. I’d have the tune in the left hand, and a couple of bars of accompaniment between each line of the melody. It took most of Saturday afternoon and evening, but once I’m in the flow, I don’t like to stop. (Well, apart from cooking dinner, since families need feeding, whether or not the cook fancies herself as a composer. And they like to be fed at set times, alas!)
I got it done and dusted. I have to confess, I was actually rather pleased with my efforts, last night – I thought it sounded good.
I got to church early today, and played it over a number of times before the congregation arrived. It sounded okay – not as glorious as I expected, but certainly passable, apart from a bar or two where I resolved to re-work it later today. Anyway, its premiere performance passed entirely without comment. Oh, well! A bit of an anticlimax, but I’m forced to concede that I was, to a certain extent, indulging myself in any case. I drove home slightly chastened. How can something sound eminently satisfactory at 10 pm, and … not that special, twelve hours later? What happened overnight?!
I’ve spent another hour tweaking three bars that offended me. I’m sure they’ll make all the difference. Is it finished now? Who knows.
Since beginning this research into Dundee’s Leng Medal competitions, I’ve posted updates from time to time. Seven of them, to be precise! If you’d like to read more, I’ve put all the links on a special page dedicated to this project:-
I’m re-blogging this post by Will Pooley, because it’s thought-provoking. It’s not about musicology, but history. And as historians, we do not always have neat answers to questions about the past. Read on …
After attending last week’s Donne launch (when I found the opportunity to mention my earlier work in the Whittaker Library), I looked back at my 2023 open access article about increasing women composers’ representation in the Whittaker Library. Just in case you missed it in 2023, here it is again, ‘Representation of Women Composers in the Whittaker Library’. Enjoy! Let me know what you think.
I’m no longer a librarian, focusing solely on my musicological research, but I can still look back with pride on some of my more notable successes. This was definitely one of them.
At home, I wonder if I’m perceived as somewhat perverse and illogical. Why would I want to go out early to examine archival records on a ‘Not Working’ day? (Contractually, Tuesday isn’t a day when I work.)
Should I need to justify myself? Arguably not. However, if retirement offers the opportunity to pursue interests, then surely one should pursue them most vigorously whilst one still has vigour? I’m sure scientists would say this was even good for one’s mental health.
If someone was interested in trains, no-one would think it odd if they wanted to find out where a loco was, at different points in time, and where it went – the track layout and the timetables. It follows, then, that real people, especially in your own city, and with a connection to your own institution, are every bit as interesting and worth researching. She was an organist, composer and music teacher.
[Incredulously] How many books? How many hours? Really?
So … I know a lot about the trumpet major’s youngest daughter, but if I find a new avenue to research, then naturally, I want to explore it. And this has been a most interesting and fruitful day, combing through half a dozen large and bulky old handwritten church minutes books. I now know when the lady in question began her quarter century of service as a church organist, and when she resigned. I’ve seen her resignation copied into the records. (But it’s unclear precisely why. She gave a slightly vague explanation. Ah, well.)
There’s plenty more in my notes that I shall mull over. Just time for a quick coffee before I examine one last document …
To recap – I have done oral history interviews with a number of people who participated in Dundee’s Leng Medal competitions for Scots song singing – mostly as children, but a few teachers have also talked with me. I’ve checked the transcriptions of 25 out of the total 27 interviews, and I also have a few emailed responses too. If you’re one of the people I’ve interviewed or emailed, then can I offer a big thank you, right now, because I now have lots and lots of information and memories. I really am very grateful. I couldn’t have done this without you. You’ve shared your memories, you’ve made me smile, and some of you have even sung to me. Who could ask for more generosity of spirit than that?
So, what’s next?
Writing. (Writing for the popular, non-academic press, and then writing a book chapter.)
An event, hopefully. Still under discussion.
A book about Thomas Nelson’s educational music publishing, or something along those lines.
And I have more than one string to my bow. I’m also still researching …
The Trumpet Major’s Youngest Daughter
Slightly crumpled conference bag (it has already endured both London and Scottish rain!)
After my talk at the recent Royal Academy of Music conference, Women and Musical Histories, 1789-1914, I have continued researching Rose Smith’s life. I’ve already found out more, and tomorrow I’m off to consult an archive where I hope some of my still outstanding questions might be answered. I foresee a [second, more focused] research trip to Rose’s birthplace in the near future, before our Scottish days get short and wintry!
I’d also like to organise another event! But I really must focus on getting the Dundee research written up and celebrated before I get consumed by this other research thread.
It’s a good thing I’m semi-retired, really! If I was still cataloguing jazz CDs in the library, I certainly wouldn’t have time to plan research expeditions without taking annual leave.
I shouldn’t be sharing this yet, because I’m sure I haven’t got to the end of this thread. However, it’s too exciting a piece of trivia not to share.
I saw a pen-and-ink drawing of a local church interior, on eBay. Dated 1937, it’s a bit later than the era of that church that interests me. Nonetheless, I thought it would be a nice thing to have.
Last night, I looked up the name of the artist. And it turns out that what I actually have, is a framed drawing done by the rector of the church, made the same year that he took up his charge. Even if I don’t manage to establish any connection with the musical story that I’m working on, I’m delighted to have this piece of artwork just to look at.
So, watch this space. After my forthcoming trip to the archives, maybe I’ll manage to make a connection with the drawing. If I do, my excitement will be off the register. And if not – well, it was still a pleasing acquisition.
