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.
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, and I thought it would be worth airing again.
(You can read about him a bit more in my book, A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity, published by Routledge in 2025. Most affordable on Kindle or as a paperback.)
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.
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.
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.
But I definitely won’t be giving up the day job!
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?
And I have more than one string to my bow. I’m also still researching …
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.
Image by congerdesign from Pixabay
Here we are in 2026 and women composers still don’t get their share of concert performances. Neither do those from the global majority. I’d appreciate it if, after reading this post, you could please share it as widely as possible. Thank you!
When I received an invitation to the launch of the Equality and Diversity in Global Repertoire 2025/26 report – at the Royal Albert Hall, no less – I hesitated for only a few seconds – it’s not exactly just down the road! And the trouble with the overnight sleeper (apart from the insomnia) is that you get there far too early…
But, as I outlined in my last post,
If an opportunity presents itself, and you find yourself hesitating, ask yourself this one question:- If I pass this up, am I likely to regret it later? That, rather than other people’s opinions, should be your deciding factor.
Karen McAulay Musicologist blog, 22 Sept 2026
You have to be ‘in the room’ to be part of the change you want to see effected. So, since I had been invited, there I was.
I considered it an honour to attend the launch of the latest report of orchestral performances, comparing ratios of music by men and women, broken down further into music by living and deceased, white and global majority composers. The previous report had actually shown a slight downturn in the figures for women and global minorities, but things were marginally on the up again this year. However, Donne are impatient to see much bigger changes, and much of the talk not only by panellists but also invitees, was about how to quicken the pace.
It depends on so many things – boldness in programming. Funders. It’s not that the will isn’t there, amongst performers – artistic directors also need to be ready to make the changes. Not just having a ‘token’ woman’s piece on a programme. Capturing the interest of the audience. And recognising that it’s not enough just to premiere a new piece – because often we need to hear something more than once before we feel it’s something we like and would like to hear more of.
A distinguished panel had been convened, drawn from PRS Foundation; Black Lives in Music; the Musicians’ Union; one of the Oxford Colleges; and the Association of British Orchestras.
Equality and Diversity in Global Repertoire: 110 Orchestras Worldwide, Orchestras Season 2025-2026 / Donne, 2026.
You can find the report via the Donne – Women in Music Facebook page. It’s also worthwhile signing up to receive news from Donne (it’s the Italian for ‘women’, so you pronounce it ‘Don-ne‘) – I’ve just received the link to the latest report and highlights from the analysis.
And you’ll also learn about the latest very ambitious initiative, ’50 by 2030′. Donne founder Gabriella Di Laccio, MBE, is impatient to see a 50:50 balance of music by women and men by 2030. The current 8% ‘is not enough’, she says.
Put that way, who could argue?!
From the floor, we were encouraged to share our own insights. I hung back, but eventually couldn’t contain myself, and shared my opinion that if we wanted children to know about women’s music, and not just canonical (mostly deceased) white men’s compositions, then most crucially, we needed to target student teachers. If teachers aren’t sufficiently well-informed about women’s compositions, then the next generation will continue to miss out on what women have created.
I also mentioned my efforts to get as much music by women composers as possible into the Whittaker Library at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland particularly in my last five years as a librarian there. (I got applause! There you are – my reward for speaking up.)
After the formal discussions, there was time to network before we all went our separate ways. I caught up with an acquaintance and met lots more.
And managed coffee with our London-based offspring before heading back home. A great day out!
Please don’t forget to share this!
