I should like to present to you briefly this morning some of the difficulties encountered, not by the composer, but by the editor of church music. The Lutheran Church has always recognized the importance of the work done by her music editors; her composers, of course, have, by the grace of God, been most responsible for giving her the great name she has in the music world; but next to the composers, her music editors have contributed most towards giving us the reputation we have as the "Singing Church." Had it not been for the music editors of the Lutheran Church, much of her music would have fallen into disuse and would be forgotten today. At the very beginning of the Lutheran Church we find such men as Johann Walther and Georg Rhau, musical scholars in the very best sense of the word, preparing for the Church excellent hymnals and outstanding collections of music arrangements for choir. Luther himself encouraged these men to carry on their work and even assisted. Later we find men like Lukas Osiander, Martin Agricola, Seth Calvisius Erhard Bodenschatz, Johannes Keuchenthal, Georg Forster, Johann Eccard, Johann Stobaeus, Leonhard Schroeter, and others preparing collections of choral music for Lutheran choirs, particularly, however, for use in Lutheran schools. Hymnals were prepared and edited by men like Josef Klug, Valentin Babst, and others, which reveal that their editors were highly schooled musicians and educators. Michael Praetorius unwittingly immortalized himself through his great collections of music; many a precious chorale was rescued from obscurity and oblivion by this indefatigable scholar and editor. In 1640 appeared the Neues vollkoemmliches Gesangbuch prepared by Johann Crueger, a highly skilled musician, whose name is usually associated with that of Paul Gerhardt, whose hymn texts he set to music. From 1644–1733 appeared no fewer than forty-three editions of Crueger’s great hymnal, bearing the Latin title Praxis pietatis melica. Indeed Crueger was a great composer as well as a great editor. Johann Staden, a contemporary of Michael Praetorius, prepared a collection which he called Harmoniae Sacrae, which was intended not only for the Church and the schools, but also for the homes; here we find accompaniments introduced for the organ, the lute, and the viola. In 1627 appeared Johann Hermann Schein’s Cantional. The Age of Pietism produced the famous Freylinghausen Gesangbuch, which in 1759 appeared in its 19th edition and contained 1,581 hymns and 609 tunes, and also the Schemelli Gesangbuch, which, however, did not meet with success, despite the fact that Bach harmonized many of its tunes and arias. One reason why the music of Bach was almost forgotten for a hundred years is that a great editor like Michael Praetorius was not on hand to edit and preserve this great music. The 19th and 20th centuries again produced great editors, men like Franz Commer, Arnold Mendelssohn, Johann Zahn, Friedrich Blume, Philip and Friedrich Spitta, Karl Matthaei, Gustav Schreck, Karl Straube, Max Seiffert, Christhard Mahrenholz, and many others. Mahrenholz is one of the editors of the great Handbuch der deutschen evangelischen Kirchenmusik, an edition of Lutheran choral (Das gesungene Bibelwort) and liturgical (Der Altargesang) music which every Lutheran church musician should know. If I am not mistaken, the collection is to include also organ music. You will note that most editions of Lutheran music, including the hymnals (Gesangbuecher, Choralbuecher), were prepared for publication, not by committees, but by individuals; and that all of these individuals were great scholars in the field of church music (musicologists). They were in practically all cases men who possessed a fine musical background and whose knowledge of their field was consummate.

Some seem to think that the difficulties experienced by the editor when compared with those of composers are negligible. It is true, there are times when the task of the editor is a comparatively simple one. The editor has, for example, a very easy problem to solve when he has an authentic version of the music in modern notation before him and has at his disposal an acceptable text or a good translation. But his task is seldom as light as that, and there are times, I dare say, when his work is harder than that of the composer.

Like a good performer, the good editor must have assimilated a composition in its entirety before he ever begins to edit. The good composer of choral music must be imbued with the real and deeper meaning of a text before he can set it to music; Heinrich Schuetz consistently studied the Bible texts he set to music in their original language before setting them to music and also advised his pupil Matthias Weckmann to study the Hebrew language that he might understand better the texts of the Psalms. The musical editor, too, must usually have a command of several languages (in our case German, Latin, and English), and before he can edit a composition, he must be saturated with the nature and spirit not only of the text used by the composer, but also with the musical setting given the text by the composer. This is not always easy, but it is necessary even when the editor does no more than prepare a good translation of the original text or makes use of a translation prepared by someone else.

It is important that the editor base his edition on a version which is authentic and untampered with. This means, as a rule, that the editor must use either a manuscript of the original version or an exact reproduction. It is not always easy to determine which is the original version of a composition, but if an original version is not the basis of an edition, it will soon be rejected, first by musicologists, later by careful conductors (Toscanini—Stokowsky). One of the composers most sinned against in this respect is Heinrich Schuetz, and chief among his offenders we find even such men as Johannes Dittberner and Carl Riedel. Riedel even went so far as to take portions of the four Passions written by Schuetz and make of them a fifth Passion, which was later published by Novello as Schuetz’ Passion According to St. Matthew. Strangely enough, Riedel did not notice that the style of each of these four Passions is radically different from the styles of the other three. One could hardly get by with this in our day, for the complete works of Schuetz are to be found in several music libraries of our country.

It is well known, of course, that the works of Bach have been altered and "improved" upon by men like Felix Mendelssohn and Karl Friedrich Zelter, who substituted the clarinet, an instrument unknown to Bach, in their performance, in 1729, of Bach’s Passion According to St. Matthew. They insisted that the violinists and violists playa tremolo which was almost as sentimental and tear jerking as the tremolos of many of our violinists today. Again they changed the text in several places, particularly in the arias, to such an extent that one would hardly recognize their connection with the Gospel According to St. Matthew. Zelter, by the way, was the first to call the attention of Goethe to the music of Bach and on one occasion remarked that he had in mind to publish some music by Bach after having made several improvements. Goethe sarcastically asked: "How can one improve on a great piece of art?" Who, after all, is Zelter when compared with Bach; it is as though one were trying to compare a mosquito to a lion. But what can one expect of Zelter, Mendelssohn, Busoni, Stokowsky, and many others when Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach, the so-called Bueckeburger Bach, asserted that he had written some of his father’s compositions, when Wilhelm Friedemann tried to palm off two of his own compositions ("Kyrie" and "Dienet dem Herrn") as having been written by his father in order to procure some much needed money to purchase bread and butter, and, finally, when Karl Philipp Emmanuel Bach tried to claim authorship of much of his father’s music?

An editor must be trustworthy and honest. If there is any field of musical activity which calls for a scholarly approach, it is the work of the music editor. An editor of church music, and I include, of course, liturgical music and hymnody, must understand not only the music he edits, but also its backgrounds and whatever traditions are associated with it. His knowledge and understanding, likewise his respect for the intent and aims of the composer, come into play not only when dealing with the music itself, but also with its texts. Take the Lutheran and confessional content out of the music of Bach, and you deprive his music of that very element which motivated Bach to write his music just as he wrote it. You cannot unitarianize Bach, as did Archibald Davison, nor can you Anglicanize his music, as did Charles Sanford Terry, without mutilating it. But, you say, did not Bach change the texts of his own music, did he not convert some of his secular into sacred music, did he not convert Gelegenheitsmusik into music which would enjoy wider and more universal use? Indeed, Bach did that; but he did it only to his own music, just as you and I have a right to change the music we compose to suit ourselves. When Bach used fugue themes in his organ works which others had already used, he did nothing unethical, for these were regarded as common property in his day. Bach was no plagiarist, as was his eminent contemporary George Frederick Handel, who not only borrowed the themes used by others, but even claimed the developments of these themes, though written by someone else, as his own.

It is not always easy for an editor to find authentic source material with which to work, especially in the field of Lutheran church music. Some of our great libraries have managed to secure original manuscripts, first editions of works and reliable reproductions. The Denkmaeler deutscher Tonkunst are to be found today in a fair number of American libraries. The complete works of Bach, Handel, Michael Praetorius, Schuetz, and others are to be found in several libraries, but not in the libraries of any of our Lutheran schools, strange to say. I wonder how many of you have ever examined some of the precious manuscripts as well as some of the fine authentic editions of great Lutheran music in the Newberry Library of Chicago? Have any of you ever made use of your home-town public library to borrow music from the Library of Congress in Washington, D. C.?

If editors no longer go back to source material, they, in most cases, have no one to blame but themselves. Great institutions like the New York Public Library and the Newberry Library will make it possible for one to have photostatic reproductions made of any piece of music which is not copyrighted. Since the copyright laws do not apply to most of our great Lutheran music in its original version, it is quite possible for a student of music to take home with him altogether trustworthy reproductions of the music he wishes to use.

It is often impossible for an editor to find satisfactory translations of the texts he wishes to use. Sometimes publishers furnish translators who will translate a text for a fee of three dollars or more. However, the work done by such professional translators is rarely satisfactory and usually rather artificial, since these translators do not know the musical setting to which the text is wedded. What is more, translators who are not Lutheran usually do not understand the spirit of Lutheran texts; to them it often seems childish, naive, primitive. I believe every reputable editor should be able to prepare satisfactory translations of the texts he wishes to use. This is not an easy job; in fact, it is often the hardest part of the editor’s task. Since most Lutheran music was originally written for German texts, it is necessary for the editor of Lutheran music to understand not only the spirit of the Lutheran religion, but also the spirit of the German language in order to prepare a good translation. He must have Sprachgefuehl. Who will deny that the Sprachgeist of the German language differs from that of the English language? German is a Gemuetssprache, it is an intimate and homely language; English, on the other hand, is more formal, distant, aloof, and elegant. There is a difference between "Nun ruhen alle Waelder" and "Now Rest Beneath Night’s Shadows"; the translation "Now All the Woods are Sleeping," used by some, is, I believe, absurd. The only translator of German chorales whose translations are quite consistently good is, I believe, Catherine Winkworth. Her translations show the same feel of the German language as does John Mason Neale’s of early Greek hymnody. There is nothing artificial about Miss Winkworth’s translations; in them we find an utter lack of artificiality, and she does not deprive the chorales of their Lutheran spirit by destroying the simplicity and homeliness through which Lutheran thought often expresses itself. The translations of Charles Sanford Terry are more polished and elegant, but, also as far as their language and their Sprachgeist is concerned, less Lutheran and true.

When translating the texts of Lutheran music, one’s first thought should not be to prepare beautiful texts. The moment one strives first for elegance when translating, for example, chorales, one seeks to stress what the authors of our chorale texts tried not to stress. There are those who find fault with the ruggedness, a certain awkwardness, and the homeliness of our chorales, particularly those written in the 16th and early 17th centuries; but when a man like Goethe says that "Jesaja dem Propheten" is barbarisch grosz, we should accept this as a high compliment, coming, as it does, from as great a literary critic as we could wish to find. What do we care about Martin Opitz’ criticism when he maintained that the early chorales lack polish, finish, and poetic beauty, for, after all, Opitz beside Goethe is as unimpressive as a gnu. Look at the chorale texts of those who accepted and followed the principles and practices of Opitz: their hymns lack what the early chorales of Luther’s day do not lack—power. Good texts are very much like nature itself; who will insist that a city park is and must of necessity be more impressive than a stretch of land, mountains, and scenery in the Rockies, where we behold beauty in all its unrefined and robust ruggedness.

In translating texts set to music we must retain the spirit of the texts; we must retain their thoughts and content; we must see to it that the important and the relatively unimportant words are properly placed; we must choose the right words; and we must bear in mind that the texts are to be sung. I recently saw a translation of "Ein’ feste Burg" in which the words "sein grausam Ruestung ist" were translated as "he plans his projects vile." Anyone who has had any experience in conducting choirs will know at once that the word "projects" has no force when sung. We here have an illustration of what I mean. A translation may seem well chosen when seen on the printed page; it may sound well when read, but it may not sound well when sung. Procuring good translations of good texts is indeed one of the most serious problems of the music editor.

There are times when it is impossible to use a translation which is quite literal; and it is usually altogether impossible to substitute the translation of the Authorized Version of the Scriptures for Martin Luther’s. In such cases the editor must prepare a text which is perhaps altogether new. Yet, it should have the same content as the original. Johann Schelle wrote a very beautiful motet based on the words "Christus ist des Gesetzes Ende, wer an den glaubt, der ist gerecht." The German text and the music of this number are so closely knit together that it is practically impossible to prepare an edition of this gem with English text. This applies to much polyphonic music. Some of the very best translations of the cantatas of Bach are those of Dr. Troutbeck used in the Novello edition. I would recommend also the edition of Bach cantatas prepared by Ifor Jones, conductor of the far-famed Bethlehem Bach Chorus; these are being published by G. Schirmer.

Permit me to refer to one more textual problem which confronts the editor of Lutheran church music. We are living in an age of unionism and modernism. Publishers want their music to sell and for this very reason will at times try to persuade or force editors to change texts so that they will be less confessional, less doctrinal, less distinctively Lutheran. One reason that the music of Handel is sung so much today is that it can be sung by the Roman Catholic, the Jew, the Lutheran, and the Mohammedan. Lutheran theology, like the Gospel of Jesus Christ, is foolishness to most men; it never was popular. Natural man prefers a theology which is mystical, rationalistic, and moral in character rather than confessional and doctrinal. That the doctrines of the Church can never change, modern man does not understand. Even Donald Ferguson, though instructor at a university in a city and state which are strongly Lutheran, says in his A Short History of Music, published in 1943, concerning the music of Bach: "In its utter sincerity, this music is, of course, more than an expression of the mind of Bach himself. It is a revelation of the religious spirit of his age: of the literal and often childlike acceptance of doctrines and beliefs which no man could hold unquestioned today." This is one of the reasons which might be adduced for Lutherans publishing their own music. Publishing distinctively Lutheran music ourselves will likewise help give us the stamp we desire and need in our day of religious and theological confusion. Hence, I repeat, it is important that the Lutheran choirmaster and organist be careful as to which editions he uses.

A word or two might be said concerning the use of the fermata. We need not doubt that fermatas were used by Bach and his contemporaries to indicate the end of a musical phrase or melodic line; however, there are also times when the fermata indicates that the note it accompanies is duly lengthened. Good taste and plain ordinary common sense are usually all we need to ascertain what a fermata stands for at a certain place. In some of the Choralvorspiele of his Orgelbuechlein Bach uses a fermata where it could not possibly indicate that a note is to be lengthened, since lengthening a note would break up the melodic flow and destroy the contours of beautiful passage work. We must be careful that we do not permit fermatas to sentimentalize music in which such treatment is out of place. A musician with good taste and a sound background will usually know what to do with the fermata.

A very serious problem which confronts the editor of Lutheran church music today concerns the use of expression marks and other interpretative symbols and suggestions in the music of our Lutheran masters. Many are of the opinion that no expression marks should be used whatsoever, since they were not used to any extent by composers until the Age of Rationalism was well on its way. Others are of the opinion that they do not object to a moderate use of expression marks so long as the editor indicates that by means of them he is merely offering suggestions which may be accepted or rejected, according to the will and desire of the conductor or performer. The problem is not so simple as some would have us think, and there are various factors which must be taken into serious consideration. I believe, for example, that one must take into consideration that Bach and others wrote church music largely for their own use with their own choirs and seldom considered that the music might some day be published and used by others. Furthermore, Bach did occasionally indicate what he wanted done, e.g., when he indicated at times on which manual one was to play. Johann Gottfried Walther at times indicated what fingering he suggested to the performer, though that, too, was not done in his day. It is customary for organists today to change manuals during the performance of a fugue; Bach is known to have played even his Giant G Minor Fugue on the Great only. Must we play this fugue on the Great only? Editors of organ music will frequently omit all expression marks, but indicate what registration they recommend; this is often confusing and is inconsistent in one who objects to expression marks. What is one to do if such registration can be used only on a baroque organ?

Many organists, choirmasters, and choir members welcome the expression marks of an editor; and not a few, particularly those who are not of advanced standing, need suggestions and need them badly. One summer I took a course in choral conducting at Northwestern University. One week we took the music of Palestrina; the next, music by the Russian masters; the next, Negro spirituals; and one week was devoted also to Bach. The class consisted of about 300 teachers of music, and the group sang largely from the Anniversary Collection of Bach Chorales. On the last day the group was asked to sing that great fugal chorus "My Soul, Now Bless thy Maker"; Mr. Lams, who accompanied, may recall that the group was so moved and stirred by the music itself that the conductor finally had to stop them and say: "Folks, keep yourselves under control, please; show some regard for the expression marks." Here we have a case in point; the so-called expression marks were regarded really not as expression marks in the real sense of the word, but as safeguards to keep a chorus from getting too highly excited.

I believe one should guard against going to extremes in this matter. I am willing to admit that I today regret having used as many expression marks as I did in my early attempts at editing music, particularly in my Anniversary Collection of Bach Chorales. My interpretative suggestions were determined in part by the rise, fall, and flow of melodic lines; in part also by the nature of the text. Even today, however, I do not object to the use of a moderate number of expression marks; and I do not stand alone in taking this position. Karl Straube, if he is still alive, will admit that he used too many expression marks and interpretative suggestions in his Choralvorspiele alter Meister, his first volume of Alte Meister des Orgelspiels, and in his edition of the second volume of Bach’s organ works in the Peters edition. However, in the Neue Folge of his Alte Meister des Orgelspiels (Vols. II and III) he by no means abolishes expression marks entirely; and he still suggests the registration, but not the fingering. Guenther Ramin follows the same practice in his fine collection Das Organistenamt. The Widor-Schweitzer edition of Bach’s absolute organ works, like the Peters edition, uses no expression marks, but does often indicate the tempo. Albert Riemenschneider, in his edition of Das Orgelbuechlein and of the Schuebler Chorales, uses no expression marks or indications of tempo, but he does suggest registration and fingering. Joseph Bonnet, whose work as an editor I admire greatly, uses a very moderate number of expression marks. Ifor Jones of Bethlehem, Pa., uses tempo indications and a moderate number of expression marks in his excellent edition of Bach cantatas published by G. Schirmer, and Canon Williams and H. Clough Leighter follow the same practice in their fine edition of choruses from the cantatas of Bach published by E. C. Schirmer. The Breitkopf and Haertel editions of works of Heinrich Schuetz, Deutsches Magnificat (Straube), Die Sieben Worte (Jadassohn), Johannes Passion (Arnold Mendelssohn), Musikalische Exequien (George Schumann), use expression marks; Historia der Auferstehung Jesu Christi, edited for the Heinrich Schuetz Gesellschaft by Walter Simon, is published by the Baerenreiter Verlag with expression marks; but the same firm published Schuetz’ Matthaeus Passion in 1935 in an edition prepared by Fritz Schmidt without expression marks or tempo suggestions. Expression marks and tempo indications are used in the Novello edition of Bach cantatas and likewise in the edition published by H. W. Gray. They are used in the Breitkopf and Haertel edition of Bach’s motets, and W. G. Whittaker uses them in the Oxford edition of Bach’s choral works. One of the finest series of choral music published today is the Dessoff Choir Series, edited by Paul Boepple and published by Music Press of New York City; every reputable Lutheran choirmaster should know this series, in which expression marks are used. Finally, Lehman Engel indicates the tempo and uses a very limited number of expression marks in his remarkable four-volume series Renaissance to Baroque, published by Harold Flammer.

I am of the opinion that an editor has just as much right to suggest points of interpretation as has a good teacher of music; but I do not believe that he has a right to insist that his interpretation is the one and only good one. I believe it is contrary to the spirit of Bach and practically all great Lutheran composers to be a blind slave of expression marks added by an editor; the musical language of Bach and others expresses something from within the heart and soul of man which should not be forced upon a person, but should be appropriated by the musician of his own free will if it is appropriated at all. It is the privilege of the performer or conductor either to use the expression marks, the tempo suggestions, the fingering, and other aids offered by the editor or to reject them.

It is not the privilege of the editor, however, to sentimentalize the music of our great Lutheran composers with expression marks which deprive this music of its pristine character. Here we have, I believe, the main issue involved by the whole problem of expression marks and other indications. The music of our Lutheran masters is so direct, so manly, so virile, that the worshiper and the listener get the wrong impression of its character when there are too many shadings, nuances, retards, accelerandos, sforzatos, ritenutos, and other effects which are better suited to the music of the 19th century than to the music written in the Golden Age of Lutheran Church Music.

There is yet one serious problem which confronts the editor of Lutheran church music to which I must call your attention today. I am very eager to see Concordia Publishing House publish selections from our great Lutheran heritage. However, those of us who have edited Lutheran church music have been obliged to go to other publishers either because Concordia would not publish our manuscripts or because we faced the probability that they would not be bought and used if published by Concordia. Dr. Seuel once told me that Concordia Publishing House has, in its time, published music of which not as much as a single copy has been sold. In other words, not even the composers or editors bought their own music. Since Concordia Publishing House has been publishing music for a clientele which is none too large, music was published in editions of no more than five hundred copies, and a price higher than is charged otherwise had to be asked. What were editors to do, send their manuscripts to Concordia Publishing House nevertheless, or offer them to publishers who would publish the music in much larger quantities, sell it to a much larger clientele, and at a more reasonable price? Concordia is not the only publishing house which has experienced such difficulties. Northwestern of Milwaukee publishes no music at all; I doubt that Wartburg and the Lutheran Book Concern of Columbus, Ohio, publish music. The United Lutheran Publishing House has published only a very negligible amount of music and finds it wise and necessary to advertise even some of its books as products of the Muehlenberg Press, since synodical and denominational prejudices prompt many people not to purchase what has been put on the market by a denominational publishing house. I believe that the only synodical Lutheran publishing house which has succeeded in making its music department pay is the Augsburg Publishing House of Minneapolis. No doubt, Dr. Christiansen’s name has done much to make the Augsburg ventures successful.

From The Musical Heritage of the Lutheran Church, Volume I (Valparaiso, Ind.: Valparaiso University, 1945). Reprinted by permission of Valparaiso University.

For personal use only.