When not in my Musicologist Role, I’m often Seated at the Organ …

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Neilston Parish Church organ and chancel.

I’ve had my Finale Songwriter music engraving software for a very long time, and it has served me well. Apart from occasional glitches, that is. However, it’s no longer sold, no longer supported – and is installed on a very old laptop. This week, I took it into my head to arrange a hymn for my church choir. All went well until …

RIP Finale Songwriter

The Finale Songwriter sound crashed. And with it, the scrolling playback. I tried to fix it. I tried a system restore, which takes hours and hours, but has always fixed it in the past. However, the system didn’t restore. With much persistence, I retrieved some kind of sound, but not the sampled sound. Hooray – I could playback my efforts with a tinny kind of sound, and it scrolled obediently along. But it’s not how it should be. It was time to get new software for the new laptop. Before that, however, I thought I’d prune my Finale files, so that I’d have less to transfer across.

I file most of my Finale documents by year, and I’ve only reached 2020 in the pruning exercise. This will take a while! I’m deleting tunes that were either transient, functional versions of hymns, or really not worth saving for even family posterity.

Invisible Organist

But I found a piece I’d written for organ, back in the Covid pandemic lockdown. Entitled, Invisible Organist’s Blues, I can no longer remember if I wrote it whilst literally locked down at home, or if it was written at some stage in the next strange months when we conducted services with no congregation, or no singing. I may have written the piece whilst I was not only invisible but also almost inaudible – with not much to play. It felt as though little notice was taken when I did play.

In other words, I was disgruntled. Invisible Organist’s Blues was born out of sadness and frustration. I think it was only played once. It is blues-y. It ends with ‘Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen’, and that was chosen intentionally. I suspected I might have written something that really didn’t sound very agreeable, but I wanted to hear it again before I deleted it. Finding this piece brought back a lot of unpleasant emotions. In my last months there before I left in 2021, I felt my mental health suffering. I cried behind my glasses and face-mask each Sunday – no-one would have noticed the tears streaming. And I cried as I drove home, which was certainly not ideal. I felt marginalised, and for long enough, I told myself to ‘man up’ and accept that it was all in my head – I was imagining it.

Reality

Until, finally, I came to the conclusion that the sadness was real. Was I imagining my shrinking role? It was shrinking. Churches are absolutely entitled to change ways of doing things, and the organist just has to understand that. Was I imagining that the choir and organ were unmentioned throughout an online Zoom group meeting that I attended? They weren’t mentioned. If I was suffering, then that, too was real. Yes, times were changing – and it was time for me to accept it. I did accept it. A few months after my resignation, I was fortunate to find another organist position, where the welcome was as embracing as a warm hug. This was more how things were meant to be!

Neilston Parish Church, West of Scotland, my new church.

Fast forward back to this present week. My finger hovered over Invisible Organist’s Blues. Should I just delete it, and its uncomfortable memories? I played it back with my tinny, defective Finale Songwriter playback, prepared to be disgusted.

But I wasn’t! The tinny playback certainly didn’t enhance it. It lost any semblance of a deep pedal bass-line, but it felt as though there was something worth keeping. I tried it on the piano at home (and any organist will tell you that playing organ music on the piano is weird, because you have somehow to accommodate music that’s intended for two hands and two feet, without having an organ pedal-board) – and I was quite gratified by the results.

Today, I headed for church and tried it there. Tweaked a couple of chords, and – yes, two movements will be played tomorrow. The third does need a bit of practice. I need to decide whether the rhythms are not only too difficult, but unnecessarily so. (Nobody will hear the trouble I’ve seen, either!)

It would be nice to think that by resurrecting the piece and playing it sensitively, I can put the ghosts to rest, and make use of something that I put a lot of work into.

I’ve installed new music-engraving software. I haven’t even tried it out yet, but I did bite the bullet, decide which one to go for, and pay for it! Maybe at some point I’ll convert Invisible Organist’s Blues into music XML and transfer it across. Alternatively, I could just save it as a pdf and accept that that’s it, finished and unchangeable!

I’m not going to share it here yet – not whilst it’s still technically a work-in-progress! However, here’s a Scottish folk song that I played as my warm-up when I was practising this morning – Flow Gently, Sweet Afton – clattering tracker action and all!

Women and Musical Histories, 1789-1914. Conference 2-4 September 2026: Website

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Old photo of a woman

It seems a good idea to share the link to this conference again, now that the programme has been finalised.

Women and Musical Histories, 1789-1914

The organisers have shared the following information:-

The final programme can be accessed directly here:

View the full conference schedule.

A more comprehensive programme, including all presenter abstracts and biographies, is accessible as an Exposition on the Research Catalogue platform.

Image by chenspec from Pixabay

Are You Defined by Your Desk?

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
11th Hussars (Cherry Pickers) The Drums and Band, by Harry Payne

I sat down in my home office alcove this morning, and realised that my desk actually tells you everything about me!

  • ORGANIST
  • the Billy Graham All-Scotland Crusade 1955 song book, open at ‘The Solid Rock’
  • Ancient laptop – used only for Allegro Finale Songwriter (I was transposing the song, and reducing it to three rather than four vocal parts)
  • Under my desk, a box containing new choir anthems …
  • MUSICOLOGY
  • CDs of an organ that had been inaugurated by the Athenaeum’s second Principal, Edward Emanuel Allan
  • Picture of a Victorian 11th Hussars trumpeter
  • ANYTHING FABRIC-RELATED
  • Samples of fabric, most of which I won’t be ordering!

(I could add context, and explain that I’m a semi-retired researcher and a church organist!)

Right, the song book and old laptop are closed. I fix my eyes firmly on the Leng Silver Medal on my pinboard. That’s this morning’s focus! But I just can’t put away the 11th Hussars trumpeter – it’s the closest I’ll get to Trumpet-Major James Smith today!

Juggling Act! 10.5 Hours, One Project, One Distraction

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Cartoon picture of children singing

The heading is here to keep me in line. I’ve written the paper on my two fin-de-siecle lady musicians, for next week’s conference. I’m slightly obsessed with them both, to be honest – especially their family history. (Parents James and Mary-Anne Smith, for example!)

But today, I’m getting back to my Dundee Leng Medal Memories transcriptions. Contractually, I work 10.5 hours a week (research at other times isn’t ‘work’), and this week the genuine working hours are dedicated to the social history behind the Dundee Leng Medal. I’ll try to avoid distractions, though I can’t promise not to open tempting emails relating to the Smiths’ back history!

Dundee, here we go! (Metaphorically speaking. I’m not planning any trips this week.) And if you were wondering why I need to check auto-transcriptions, then let me give you just a few wee examples:-

Teams Transcriptions

Teams generally manages just fine with the Scottish accent, but obviously, it cannot know old Scottish songs, and occasionally it is completely stumped. Anyway, I’m getting a few smiles … try these:-

Image by Henry Bell from Pixabay
  • ‘Just a wee dog and Doris’ (the song that Harry Lauder didnae sing?)
  • ‘The paper of Dundee’
  • ‘You banks and brays’ (close!)
  • ‘June wrongly’ (you will never work out what that was meant to be?)*
  • Kayleigh dancing
  • A place called ‘Canusti’ ???! [Carnoustie]
  • ‘The first few words would be a bit cheeky’ [but they actually said, ‘shaky‘!]
  • ‘First of all, I’ll come to you, my lad’ [ie, Whistle and … ]
  • ‘Are he the Norse’ [a Welsh song, that’s your clue here!]
  • ‘When the guy comes in’. Let me give you a clue:-

Main Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

*’June wrongly’ was actually a song entitled, ‘John Grumlie’.

Just a Boy

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Siege of Bhurtpore

This morning, I examined Trumpet Major James Smith’s military enlistment and discharge papers online. His discharge was on health grounds – but he still lived another twenty-three years. One can be unfit for soldiering, but still fit enough to live a useful life away from the battle-field or garrison. Indeed, he had married four years before his discharge from the army, and had quite a big family, over the space of twenty-odd years.

Comparing heights

I was quite moved by the poignancy of fourteen-year old James’s ‘Attestation’ in 1826 (his enlistment papers) – he was so young, and so small to be joining the army. He still had another thirteen inches of height to grow, going by his discharge papers! (Fourteen-year old boys are an average of 8 to 9 inches taller nowadays, two centuries later.)

Mary Anne Smith's poetry books

Mary-Ann enjoyed writing anapaestic tetrameters; I found several of them, and similar variants, amongst her poetry collections. Next week, I’m going to go back to the library to look at some more of her poems. In particular, I’m keen to see the poem she wrote ‘To James’ after his death, in an Addendum at the end of her second collection.

Anyway, I wondered whether I could pen an anapaestic tetrameter of my own, so here it is – my first attempt at writing in this particular poetic meter. I hope Mary-Ann and Rose would approve:-

You were four feet, nine inches, your eyes grey but bright,
Just a boy of fourteen - still a lad;
Though you hadn't near equalled your father in height,
You were counting the days till you had!
You were fair and light-skinned, with a healthy physique,
And you'd finished your schooling at last;
You knew what came next - you were keen to step up, 
Leaving playthings behind in your past.
Growing up in the army, your future was clear -
You enlisted in steamy Cawnpore,
A Dragoon, bravely riding with no trace of fear -
And you’d make your Ma proud, that’s for sure!
But how long would you soldier? How long in Cawnpore?
Would you battle, or help keep the peace?
Would your bugle lead soldiers to brave acts of war,
Or might you succumb to disease?
Just a boy, starting out in the steps of your Pa,
With your trumpet, a sword, then a horse -
With your musical gifts you were told you’d go far,
But at fourteen, time still took its course.
For the marching, the drills, and the beat of the drum
Would have thrilled you enough at the start,
Now your schoolbooks were closed and your work had begun,
You’d need strength, and a resolute heart.

Horsepower: the Museum of the King’s Royal Hussars. Timeline showing that the 11th Hussars had been engaged in the Siege of Bhurtpore only the year before.

The Trumpet-Major, a Splendiferous Helmet, and – oops!

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

I took it into my head to do some spare-time research into the father of one of my musical heroines, last night. In truth, I already know enough for my purposes, but I thought it would be nice to see if I could find out any more.

Victorian Militaria? Don’t Even Go There!

He was a Trumpet Major, right? And then a drill sergeant in Scotland, in retirement. I wondered what his uniforms looked like – an illustration might come in useful in a presentation one day, so why not find out? I googled. I searched eBay. Did I want to buy a hat badge? Well, tempting as it was, I thought I probably did not. And I searched beyond eBay. Then I came to a magnificent, shiny helmet with a scary-looking spike on top. It was for sale – but I didn’t want to buy the thing, just to read the vendor’s description to see if it really was the kind of headgear he might have worn either in active service or in ‘retirement’. I clicked. And – because I wasn’t using this laptop but another one – I was prevented from seeing the item at all. Apparent a shiny nineteenth century helmet counts as weaponry. Well, I know the spike looked terrifying, but it was on top of a piece of headgear. No matter – I don’t want to get myself in trouble, so I didn’t persist, and quietly tiptoed away from the beautiful shiny, silver distraction. I can’t even find the same picture today – even on my own laptop – so I can’t show you it. All I can say is, look at pictures of Victorian militaria at your peril!

Instead, I bought a book about his regiment. This is how I end up learning so many weird and wonderful facts!

Where and When?!

Today, I decided I’d try another line of enquiry. Since I’ve been unable to trace the death of the Trumpet Major’s wife, I wondered if the family might have arranged for her to be buried beside him in Lanark. But can I trace his grave? I cannot. I could try a bit harder, or I could return to Lanark and physically look at gravestones – but I’m not making any plans just now. It’s their music and poetry that interest me, really, not their final resting places.

Or might she have gone to live with one of her children? She certainly wasn’t with Rose in 1901, though Rose and her husband were presumably living with her at the time of their marriage in 1898, since the address is the same, and it was usual to marry at the bride’s family home. This makes me think she might have died between those years. Or she could have died somewhere other than Glasgow. One son had married in England, for a start. It’s a puzzle. Inconsequential, but infuriating!

Maybe another day will bring another search inspiration. Until then – as I said, I really do know quite enough for my purposes!

*picture from eBay

Hunting for Heroines

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

(Or should this be, ‘Holding out for a heroine?’) I love looking for the places where my Scottish music heros and heroines lived and walked. No particular reason – I just like to visualise where they lived. In fairness, it may tell me nothing more pertinent than to inform me that they lived in a very luxurious, upmarket neighbourhood – or one that has seen better times – or indeed, one that may never have been particularly swanky! If they were a church organist or a teacher, or supplied music to dance musicians, it’s nice to see how far they lived from their work. In any case, it’s an innocent enough obsession, and sometimes I manage to find a coffee whilst I’m out prowling!

Out we went into deepest Lanarkshire earlier this week, in search of the birthplace of one of the two women I’ll be talking about at the conference in a couple of weeks.* We couldn’t stop for a photo, in a busy street, but I’d seen it on Google maps in any case.  We had a coffee just round the corner in the main street. (I believe it’s under Turkish ownership, which might explain the intriguing illustrations of quadrilles in different national costumes, on the walls! Look carefully – there’s a Marcia Persiana amongst them.)

Quadrilles, illustrations found in an antique shop by the cafe owner

But I didn’t expect, a couple of days later, to find myself looking across at one of the addresses that our budding composer occupied in Glasgow. Buildings change, and it looks as though this one has been reduced to two storeys since our heroine lived there with her mother and a couple of siblings in the 1890s. So … you may or may not be looking at the tenement flat where they lived, but you’re definitely looking at the tenement!

It’s just along from the Fabric Bazaar and the famous Barras market.  Since Piping Live has been on, and yesterday it was the second day of the World Pipe Bands Championships at Glasgow Green, there was a distant, constant sound of drones, and kilts swinging round every corner.

Yes, even in the fabric shop, the reason for my outing in the first place. No kidding.

*The Royal Academy of Music’s September conference, Women and Musical Histories, 1789-1914. My paper has possibly my longest ever title-

‘The Trumpet Major’s ‘Poetess’ Widow; the Scottish Shipping Magnate’s Daughter and the Retired Barrister: The Importance of Parental Support to Musically Gifted Girls in the Late Victorian and Edwardian Eras’.

Top companies your searchers work at

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Clip of the LinkedIn section listing the top companies my searches work at

Linked in won’t tell me much, without my paying for Premium membership, which I’m not going to do. Still they’ll tell me the top three companies my searchers work at. Frankly, I’m surprised by their names. I’m particularly surprised that IQVIA (a real company) has looked me up again, considering I have spoken to a real, live person – well, I assume she was real and live – to point out that I am absolutely not who they are looking for. So, why have they looked me up again? Didn’t they remove me from their list of hopefuls, as I rather strongly suggested?

This is Who I am Not

I am not, never have been, never will be a medic of any description. Do they really think that just because I have a PhD and am a post doctoral research fellow, I must therefore be a medical researcher?

I was not a straight-A-in-every-subject all-rounder: I have one narrowly-passed O-Level in Physical Chemistry. That’s is my sole scientific credential. The other ten O-Levels, and all subsequent qualifications, are non-scientific.

This is Who I am

I work in a Conservatoire! (To anyone in the USA, it would be called a conservatory.) I’m a musicologist, and my historical research crosses over into social history.

Anyway, to make things easier for them, I have improved my profile. Before tonight, perhaps it was a little ambiguous – to headhunters not familiar with what a Conservatoire is all about:-

Post Doctoral Research Fellow at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Athenaeum Award for Leng Medal Memories research project.

And now?

This is What I do

Post Doctoral Research Fellow at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Athenaeum Award for Leng Medal Memories research project into a Dundee Scots Song Competition 🎵.

  • I haven’t said I’m ‘Open to’ work of any kind, because I’m semi-retired, live in Glasgow with an elderly spouse, and could only possibly entertain part-time research which did not entail relocation.
  • I don’t wish to Enhance my profile using AI.
  • I shall, however, Add a section to help clarify that medical research is really, truly not my forte! I’ve linked to my publications list, and featured the paper I’m giving at the Royal Academy of Music’s September conference, Women and Musical Histories, 1789-1914:- ‘The Trumpet Major’s ‘Poetess’ Widow; the Scottish Shipping Magnate’s Daughter and the Retired Barrister: The Importance of Parental Support to Musically Gifted Girls in the Late Victorian and Edwardian Eras’.

Having written my conference paper and devised a PowerPoint, it’ll be back to transcribing oral history interviews on Thursday. The kind of thing you’d expect a musicologist/social historian to be doing, in fact!

And it Goes on

A week later – now we have pharmaceutical companies and animal health experts looking me up. What do I have to do …. ?!

Dawn-Break Research

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

I’ve got the weirdest of headaches.  My head and I got home from A&E at 5 am yesterday. (No explanation, but both serious potential diagnoses ruled out.)

Wristband off – I’m free!

Even Google Health (aka Fitbit) was sorry for me:-

Thanks, Google Health!

Yesterday, weird headache or not – it’s not a foggy migraine, but a frequent, painful distraction – I was determined to make a start on my conference paper.  Miraculously, between twinges, I had suddenly hit upon a good way to begin it, and in desperation, I decided that some simple maths would enable me to make a start, even if I have to tidy it up later.

  • How long would I be speaking?
  • How many words a minute?
  • How many headings?

Armed with that framework, I got started, and actually made reasonable progress, considering how tired and uncomfortable I was. I completed several headings.

So, wouldn’t you think I’d have slept well last night?  I achieved nearly five hours – I suppose that was at least substantially better than the night before.

Morning insomnia is the most frustrating thing. It has afflicted me for years. But if getting back to sleep at 5.20 am is nearly impossible, then return to slumber with the weirdest of headaches is utterly impossible. I didn’t try: I sought medication, made a cup of tea and took it back to bed. But now I was awake, and I knew I wouldn’t sleep.

Duvet-Top Research (the Latest Trend?)

Combining Robert Louis Stevenson’s ‘Bed in Summer’ and ‘The Land of Counterpane’, out came my phone for some duvet-top research. (There’s just one golden rule: do not touch any audio or video clips, for obvious reasons!) 

I’ve been looking into a Victorian-era London music publisher. What did he publish with a Celtic connection? Who published with him? Did they know each other? This gets intriguing. I can see today’s going to be a day of lists and charts.

Great Western Bridge, at Kelvinbridge

But not before the outing to a secondhand bookshop that I promised myself as a reward for yesterday’s efforts – because it looks as though the only way to find what I’m looking for, is to look in places that don’t have an online presence – just me, leafing through old music.

Just off Great Western Road…

I’m sure to find a decent coffee-shop somewhere nearby!

(Later) The smell of fresh grass … but not a whiff of any interesting scores. Oh, well.

Cover image by madartzgraphics from Pixabay

4 August 1899: On This Day

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Two wedding rings

On this day in 1899, the late publisher James S. Kerr’s daughter Maude took possibly the worst decision in her life – she married Benjamin Disraeli Wigton, Second Officer of SS Britannia.

Anchor Steam Liner Britannia between Glasgow and Bombay

A descendant hinted that they may have been distantly related. That was not the problem. (He also spent some time in an asylum in the West of Scotland, for which we can’t condemn him, obviously.) The bridegroom, with perhaps the most memorable Christian names I’ve ever encountered, went on to marry other ladies in Australia AND New Zealand. However, he was certainly more than a bigamist. It must have been comparatively easy to get away with, in those days. But with such a conspicuous name? Breathtaking audacity!

Maude [Maud] Speirs Kerr divorced him not long after her mother died, and went on to make herself a new life in America. Did she deliberately wait until Mary had died before taking this step? Who knows!

The Scotsman, 17 Oct 1910 – only one extra wife was mentioned here!