Of all the music the sixteenth century produced the compositions for organ do not appear to have attracted any particular interest among our organists. The scholars, to be sure, investigated the field, and patient research uncovered many a work of remarkable distinction. Our knowledge of the organ music in that age has grown to be reasonably complete. We also have acquired a fairly sound basis to pass judgment on such matters as historical importance and artistic value.

Naturally, the development of the organ compositions in the sixteenth century can hardly be presented merely on the strength of accessible editions. But the student who measures and estimates the vast output of the organists on the ground of the original sources, manuscripts, and prints will be in a position to draw a nearly integral picture of its growth. The scope of the original material is comprehensive; of acceptable modern editions there are but a few; they, nonetheless, cover a ground sufficient enough at least to arouse the interest of our organists in a practical revival of the compositions. This does not bear upon the Lutheran organist alone. The indifference to this part of organ music is more or less general. And we find the occasional performance of a few works to be truly an exception.

The reasons for this omission are manifold. Many of them are based on prejudice. We may hold the organ music of the baroque age chiefly to be responsible. In fact, it has overshadowed the work of all the precursors. Constant comparison with the baroque art has not allowed the organ music of the sixteenth century to come into its own. Yet there may be very little to justify a penetrating comparison on truly historical grounds. And then, too: the idiom of the sixteenth century organ music is taken to be more remote, more foreign, hence too difficult to understand. It, therefore, has scarcely been admitted to the repertory of organ concert music today. Let us omit all further reasons.

While it may be a matter of debate what to revive in modern organ concerts and what not, the use of sixteenth-century compositions within the service of today does not seem to be questionable. For we should be ready to assume liturgical aspects for the organ music as much as we demand a link of kinship to relate the vocal music to the service. The function of an organist cannot be less responsible to the service than the discharge of duties we expect from any other musician active in the Church. Monstrosities such as those performed in the Nikolaikirche at Leipzig on May 4, 1801, by Abbé Vogler, whom so many organists hold in high esteem because of the dubious novelties he introduced, are not only objectionable from a religious point of view; they are utterly tasteless under the artistic aspect. But there is nothing more persistently repetitious than tasteless demonstrations. Vogler played, first, the chorale "Wie schoen leuchtet der Morgenstern"; second, a sea battle combined with a hurricane; third, an unnamed hymn; fourth, an organ concert for flute, probably of his own making; fifth, a journey on the Rhine interrupted by thunder; sixth and last, the psalm Miserere—and well chosen indeed was the psalm, from the listener’s point of view.

In the course of the centuries, the organist has quite frequently shown a considerable lack of responsibility toward the service. Even sixteenth-century records are full of complaints and reprimands that the organists play "fremde Stuecke und Motetten, Buhllieder und weltliche Gesaenge" in the service. This admonition, recorded in innumerable instances, places the emphasis not so much on the secular character of the music as on "fremde Stuecke," on foreign compositions, in no way related to the service for which they were used, foreign even if they were motets. But the majority of organ compositions of which the repertory of the sixteenth century consists is linked to the service. It is with this part of the repertory that we want to concern ourselves now and here.

An obvious question may be raised immediately. Are the Venetian music and the Lutheran Church not contradictions in terms if, indeed, the material should be viewed under liturgical aspects? The answer will be negative. As a matter of fact, the historical relations were so close that a great deal of the Protestant organ music in Germany during the latter part of the sixteenth century was directly and indirectly influenced by the Venetians. This we intend to show in the various phases of the development.

The position the organ occupied in the Lutheran Church has so often been discussed that we may be permitted to mention only such matters as are pertinent to our subject. Nevertheless, it may be well to remark in parenthesis that the use of organ music in the Protestant Church deserves a new historical presentation, since the last original study is more than half a century old, while all authors still continue to copy from Rietschel’s standard work of 1893 instead of approaching the subject under aspects of new material, which would amplify our knowledge considerably. The limitation of the problem to the question whether or not the organist has accompanied the congregation in singing the chorale, a question that does not apply to the sixteenth century, has obscured many other views of equal if not greater importance. If, to name an instance, the regulations of the service excluded organ accompaniment principally from the Credo, "Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott," which even in Bach’s time at St. Thomas was to be sung unaccompanied, we immediately see that the matter cannot be considered to have been of technical nature. It would be unwise to assume the sixteenth-century organist to have had difficulties in producing a simple setting to be used as an accompaniment, a setting which the composers of the time knew very well to employ in other forms; they were even acquainted with structures that carried the melody in the upper part. The discussion involved not a technical, but a liturgical problem in so far as the organ composition made the relation between word and music an issue of continual dispute. Hence the accompaniment presented itself as a matter of liturgical principles. Even as regards the alternate versions, the use of the organ in separation from the text was quite often under attack. Many manuscripts carried, therefore, indications that while the organ was playing the verse, a boy should sing, or the congregation should recite, the text with a low voice. On grounds of the same principle, objection to the accompaniment came forth wherever it was feared to obscure the perceptibility, or to slighten the importance, of the text. The present interpretation of the famous Goerlitz tablature by Scheidt of 1650, generally assumed to have set the beginning of chorale accompaniment, is more cautious and perhaps also more in keeping with what Scheidt himself has stated: it gives allowance to the alternate form. An unlimited approval of any accompaniment to go together with the singing of the congregation could hardly be expected as long as religious considerations prevailed; but it became accepted usage as soon as the relation to the text underwent fundamental changes.

Liturgical questions are of prominent significance in nearly all the Protestant organ music of the sixteenth century. The frequent objections to "foreign compositions and motets" can only be understood if the de Tempore is taken to be the guide. For a motet at this stage of the development generally is a religious work. If nonetheless it is not accepted unless specially qualified, it must be the de Tempore alone that decides whether or not a motet shall be regarded as usable in a certain service.

The organist has his duties assigned to definite sections in the liturgies of the Matins, Mass, and Vespers, as is well known. So far as Luther’s own time is concerned, the best source of information is still the Itinerarium by Wolfgang Musculus of 1536, wherein he refers to the Weimar and Eisenach masses. The organ composition appears as independent work or in alternation with the chorus. At the beginning of the service either a Prelude, or the Introit, or both, are to be played. The Kyrie has usually the arrangement of an alternatim performance, although Michael Praetorius records an interesting case that after the first Kyrie a Ricercar can be inserted. The Gloria, when used, shows again the alternatim form. Both Epistle and Gospel are followed by organ compositions, either in the form of a motet or a postlude, while the Credo adopts the alternatim version, in case organ playing is at all admitted. The same alternate form holds true for the Sanctus. Before the Agnus Dei there occurs an organ composition, probably of introductory character, or a motet with the same function, whereas the Agnus itself is to be played alternately. The Mass is concluded with an organ work. This is the outline we know to have been in use in many churches, although absolute certainty or unvariable standards for all services cannot be taken for granted according to the Lutheran principles of liturgy.

One other, more or less intrinsic, element may be pointed out. In some church orders of widely separated provinces in Protestant Germany (1535, 1544) an extraordinary ideal appears to have been set before the organist: his activities should be employed "to the honor of music lest it decline"—an extraordinary point of view, indeed, that seems to allow music to exist as an art for its own self. We do not know of any such statement to have been made anywhere else. That it was meant to favor art for art’s sake is, however, unlikely. It rather implied that nothing in the nature of tradition should be destroyed or eliminated by the Protestant Church if change was the only reason so to do. Since all organ music used in the church during the age of the Reformation is linked to definite purposes, the aspect of "art for art’s sake" would be without any reality.

And Protestantism had, in fact, a tradition of organ music to look back to, which to preserve, alter, and improve upon became the concern of the organists. Tradition provided two forms through which sixteenth-century organ music came into being: the ars inveniendi and the ars transferendi: the art of inventing new and, to a degree, independent compositions, and the art of translating existing works, usually of choral character, into the medium of organ music. In Germany this tradition reaches far back into the fifteenth century, the most comprehensive source being then the famous Buxheim Organbook, which contains more than three hundred compositions, transcriptions of motets, masses, and secular music, as well as free inventions. The technique of playing alternately in conjunction with the choir was equally well established in tradition. As a rule, however, alternate compositions must be regarded as an outgrowth of the ars inveniendi. For most of the alternating forms are originally composed upon a cantus firmus. This technique had far surpassed all experimental phases at the time when Protestant organists availed themselves of the structure to be applied to their own compositions. Nearly all the movements of the Ordinary of the Mass were composed in alternating fashion. So they were in the past, so they remained in the Protestant Church.

But also with regard to organistic craftsmanship and artistic quality as well, the tradition upon which the Lutheran organist could draw was by no means small. Especially the school of Paul Hofhaimer had produced many organists of great distinction who were ready when the new Church called upon their skill and contributions. Cities famous in the history of the Reformation became also prominent in the history of organ music: Constance, Strasbourg, Augsburg, and Speyer. Johann Buchner, Johann Kotter, Kleber, Luscinius, Georg Scharpf, Conrad of Speyer, all were more or less intimately connected with the school of Hofhaimer. And it is these that stand at the beginning of the Protestant organ music.

Between this school, which had the most important share in building up a Protestant repertory of organ compositions, and the second phase, which we shall presently take into consideration, the original sources are none too numerous; and it is to be assumed that much has been lost or relatively little has actually been written down. A certain change in the repertory strikingly impresses the student. Whereas the organ tablature of Johann Buchner sets still a fairly good proportion of the Ordinary of the Mass in the alternate arrangement, the movements of the Mass begin gradually to disappear from the tablatures after the Hofhaimer School. Instead, the motets play the more prominent role. This can only mean that the alternating Mass was largely based on improvisation, since other documents make ample mention of alternate playing to have still been in use where and whenever the Ordinary of the Mass was part of the service.

The organ tablatures, manuscripts, and prints now show a stereotyped order: the first section is usually given over to religious music, chiefly motets in Latin and German; it is followed by secular music: French chansons, Italian madrigals, or German songs; the final section brings dances. Such is the repertory of the organ tablature by Elias Nicolaus Ammerbach, organist at St. Thomas in Leipzig, who published his work in 1571. Of particular significance is the exclusive treatment of German motets such as Herr Gott nu sey gepreiset and Aller augen warten auff Dich by Matthias Le Maistre or Ich ruff zu dir Herr Jhesu Christ by Lassus. The compositions are altogether as strictly liturgical as the original motets have been. Many of them are to be attached to Epistle, Gospel, or Sermon; in other words, to the most distinguished part of the Lutheran service. Others are Introits or Communions. Of composers, there are represented: Matthias Le Maistre, Lassus, Ivo de Vento, while the repertory of the secular songs shows the works of Isaac, Hofhaimer, and others. The compositions the church regulations refer to are arrangements of motets in whose stead the organ compositions have been used. They are not literal if we compare them with the vocal originals. They are transcriptions according to the nature of the instrument.

One of the last works in this group, which came out in Strasbourg in 1577, is the tablature of Bernhard Schmid the Elder. The only factor of significance to be mentioned involves the liturgical compositions; they are—in the first part of the tablature—exclusively Latin motets, and, with exception of two, all by Roland Lassus, whereas—in the second part—the number of German motets is extremely small. If we set the Strasbourg repertory over against the Leipzig compositions, we find that there were local differences, well in keeping with the nature of the Protestant service. The Strasbourg repertory consists of works provided by Netherlanders and by Germans who follow the ideal of the North.

The second phase, however, shows a new group of musicians in the lead. The new group turns the artistic interest toward the South, toward Venice. Long and distinguished has been the history of Venetian organ music, although nothing is known of any composition previous to the school of Adrian Willaert, unless Cavazzoni should represent an older group.* Among the earliest organists who occupy a place of fame in the history of Venice there is Dionisio Memmo, the only Italian whose studies can be traced back to the school of Hofhaimer. That in Venice the art of organ music was cultivated with remarkable intensity can be imagined in view of the elaborate Regolamenti previous to 1541; they were enforced whenever a new organist came to be appointed. Unusual craftsmanship was expected from any applicant; clear rules reveal its scope. Among the regulations, the fulfillment of which preceded the appointment, many involved the art of improvisation. One is worth mentioning. We read: The examiners open a choir book and select at random the beginning of a Kyrie or a motet. The cantus firmus is to be copied and to be handed over to the competing organist who, on the organ for which he is to be appointed, must improvise a regular Fantasia on the given cantus firmus without confusing the individual parts; he must lead the parts as though four voices were singing. This improvised Fantasia is to attain a special place in the repertory of organ music.

*Knud Jeppesen, during the war, published a study on Die italienische Orgelmusik am Anfang des Cinquecento Kopenhagen, 1943, especially on the work of M. Cavazzoni.

Yet the relations between the Protestant North and Venice we have in mind are neither of incidental nor exceptional nature. We think of the phase in which the Venetians lead the development. And this is the case in the last quarter of the sixteenth century. The German South, largely Catholic, played the intermediary role, and, above all, the cities of Munich, Nuremberg, and Augsburg stood out in performing this function. The lively interchange of artistic achievements became, of course, possible on the basis of the international position the Netherlanders occupied. They largely acted as missionaries of their art, or as ambassadors traveling from one country to the other.

When Roland Lassus turned Munich into a European center of musical culture, the city rose rapidly to capital distinction, and the links between Munich and Venice came to be closer than ever. Lassus himself maintained steady communications with the Italians, and his genius attracted the musicians of the South to Munich. Since Lassus, the most important representative of the last phase of Netherlandish music, directly and indirectly influenced Protestant composers more than anyone else at the time, and since they themselves granted Lassus’ work a position of great renown, we readily recognize the historical value Lassus had had with his own work and as an intermediary of various artistic forms of others. Lassus set the pace, as it were, for many Protestant organists who made use of his output in the field of motets.

And Lassus drew Venetians to the musical culture of Munich. Whether or not Giovanni Gabrieli himself had been in Munich during the years 1575 through 1579 is not clearly established. At all events, the compositions of Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli had a firm place in Munich and in Nuremberg and Augsburg as well, where both Andrea and Giovanni had the Fuggers as their friends and patrons. But the organist Gioseffo Guami, related to the school of Venetian organists, was for a time in Munich and thus became a missionary of the art he had acquired in Venice. Lodovico Zacconi, the most interesting and learned theorist after Zarlino, should by no means be overlooked. Ivo de Vento, Netherlander by birth and an offspring of the Willaert School, was organist at the court of Munich; unfortunately, no organ composition of his has been preserved. In Ivo de Vento we have one of many Netherlanders who went to Venice to study under their own countryman, Adrian Willaert, or at least in his school.

One of the chief organists of the period advanced from this school: it is Jacques Buus, who acted as organist in Vienna from 1553 to 1564. Thus he came to carry the art of Ricercar composition to the Northern regions, an art widely cultivated by Venetian organists. The same service was performed by Annibale Padovano, from Padova, as the name indicates. His work ranked high in the Venetian repertory of organ music. When he became Maestro di Capella at the court of Graz, related to the house of Bavaria by marriage, another door was opened through which to introduce Venetian works to the North.

It is, of course, impossible to enumerate all the links of communication that existed between the North and Venice. They all had an estimable share in installing the Venetian music firmly in the North. And since the organ composition had a favorite place in the repertory, the art of organ music benefitted from any one of the communications. We must, however, mention Hans Leo Hassler, one of the best Protestant composers, who, a student of music in Venice probably under Andrea Gabrieli, gave the relation of German musicianship to the Venetian School the character of personal intimacy. In more than one respect his stay in Venice had profound consequences on German composition in the Protestant Church. Himself a composer of organ music, he demonstrated with his own work a transformation of the Venetian style to a degree of artistic individuality. Jacob and Caspar Hassler, his brothers, both active in the composition of organ music, added to the renown of the family which Emperor Rudolf II raised to noble station. The fathers of his home town Nuremberg, where Hans Leo chiefly worked, readily granted with great pride that among the living composers of Germany none was his equal.

Nuremberg, the center of music printing, whence after the glorious days of Rhaw’s office at Wittenberg the Protestant musicians drew most of the material they needed, put out a number of collections, of anthologies, which unfold a rapid increase of works of the Venetian School toward the end of the century; and the collection of the Symphoniae Sacrae, which Caspar Hassler prepared for publication in 1598, presents Hans Leo’s work in closest contact with Giovanni Gabrieli.

This movement that brought the Venetian compositions into the repertory of Protestant music reached the stage of climactic conclusion in the third part of the Syntagma Musicum by Michael Praetorius. At the threshold of a new epoch he summarized the achievements of the age of the Lassus and Gabrielis. He surveyed once more the significance of the Venetian School, and with his comprehensive analysis of the repertory he endeavored to fasten the relation between the Protestant musician and the Southern art. The turn of Heinrich Schuetz to Venice initiates a new age.

What is it, then, that the Protestant organist was able to learn from a school that consisted of Catholic musicians only? What significance lies in the Venetian organ music? German Protestant organists between the time of Hofhaimer and the offshoots of his school on the one side, the rise of the Venetian organ school on the other, largely devoted themselves to forms of the ars transferendi, to the transcriptions of vocal works into compositions of organistic propriety. Perhaps they placed too much emphasis on the ars transferendi at the expense of inventive activities. Such, at least, is the general opinion of the historians. Nevertheless, organists were in great need of the de Tempore compositions. And what other procedure could be accepted to produce such works as were related to a liturgy based on the religious texts, unless the existing de Tempore motet was used as a starting point? There was, we believe, an inescapable necessity for the Protestant organist to follow the path of the ars transferendi. To brush his output aside because of an obvious lack of originality shows very little understanding of the situation on the part of the historian.

The extraordinary importance of the Venetian organ school lies in the discovery of a new approach to composition. The Venetian organists made again apparent that an organ composition need not merely transcribe vocal works to be fit for the sacred service even to the extent of materializing the de Tempore character. In other words, the Venetian organists demonstrated again new ways of handling a cantus firmus in an organ composition. To a certain extent they even freed the organistic work from the vocal compositions, at least for certain categories. They also provided independent forms to be used for sacred purposes.

To be sure, the technique of taking a cantus firmus as a basis of an organ composition was by no means new to the German organist. The technique was known and well mastered in the fifteenth century and in the Hofhaimer School by Buchner, Kleber, and Kotter. This technique, however, seems to have severely suffered from the prevalence of the transcriptions. At least, the sources that fall into the period between Buchner and the Venetians show a definite neglect. Now, the Venetian style once more brought the technique to sight, and once more the composition with the use of a cantus firmus became one of the most distinguished forms an organist could accomplish. Among such forms as resulted from this procedure we have the Fantasia, the Ricercare, the Canzone, although some specimens of the latter category lean heavily toward a vocal model. Highest in rank, they now come first in the repertory. Of course, the relationship between the organ composition and the vocal style or even vocal models is not broken off completely as the Canzone often indicates; it is still preserved, but in no way merely on the basis of the ars transferendi.

In addition to these compositions, the Venetian organists widened the scope of the repertory by a large number of manifold introductory works, for which there was a great demand in the services. The Prelude, the Intonation, the Toccata enter the repertory in great quantities. Although shaped in the so-called free style, the introductory compositions of the Venetians have to a large measure embodied the purpose which they were intended to serve. By having composed introductions for more or less definite purposes, the Venetians cleared the way for relating the purpose of the composition to certain acts in the service. As a matter of fact, most of these Venetian compositions originated in conjunction with the service. The Protestant organist had merely to alter the purpose according to the liturgy of his church, whereas the artistic problems remained the same. Hence, the significance of the Venetian School is to be found in the new repertory of organ music, in its style, in the concept of structure, and in the maintenance of liturgical purposes from which to derive the form of composition. The liturgical purpose and the form of music stand in the relation of mutual influence.

The chief representatives of the Venetian School were Jacques Buus, Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli, Claudio Merulo, Annibale Padovano, Vincenzo Bell’Haver, Sper’in Dio Bertoldo, Diruta, Luzzasco Luzzaschi, the teacher of Frescobaldi, Gioseffo Guami, and Paolo Quagliati who—like Luzzaschi—belongs for reasons of style to the group. Under aspects of artistic value the most important of all were Buus, Andrea Gabrieli, Annibale, and, perhaps still more than the rest, Claudio Merulo. Adrian Willaert is regarded as the founder of the School. But we cannot develop any picture of his organistic activities. If he really has composed any specific works for organ, they are now lost. His Ricercari, to be found in an anthology of Fantasie, Recercari, Contrapunti a tre voci, published twice, in 1549 and 1559, are handed down, in the fashion of vocal works, in part books. They are materially different from a genuine organ composition, as a stylistic comparison with a Ricercare by Buus may well show which has come down to us in form of part books and in tablature (1549). Close as the structure of a Fantasia or a Ricercare is to the vocal form, either motet, or chanson, or madrigal, the Venetian composers gave evidence that despite the derivation of the counterpoint from the vocal polyphony the organ Ricercare, Fantasia, or Canzone, each is a product of its own because of the transformation made to meet the faculties and proprieties of the instrument. Especially the Ricercari of Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo unfold the ingenuity of the masters and at the same time the discipline with which they work out an organistic counterpoint.

Many of their Ricercari have a great variety of as many themes each to be treated in fugal manner as a vocal composition would have lines each to be provided with new thematic material. While Andrea Gabrieli may adhere to the strict development of each theme, Claudio Merulo will often insert episodes of great organistic brilliancy between the sections that are built as fugal interpretations of the themes. Of particular importance is the skillful use made of figurative material for contrapuntal imitation, so that the ornament by virtue of the function it fulfills as counterpoint comes to be substantial rather than decorative. This turn had a decisive influence on the German organists, who, after Hofhaimer and before the Venetians, doubtless had depleted the structural significance of the ornament.

But Claudio Merulo and Andrea Gabrieli, on the other end of their various forms, also developed Ricercari that were dedicated to the presentation of one theme only. The material set over against was then worked out in the function of subordinate counterpoints while the theme itself made its appearance in the course of the composition by way of the various devices of the polyphonic style, such as augmentation, diminution, inversion, or rhythmical transformations. The Fantasia Allegra by Andrea Gabrieli, undoubtedly a very late composition, is probably one of the finest examples of this type.

The organ compositions that appear in contrapuntal style can perhaps best be grouped according to three structural aspects: the first comprises works whose vocal models we know after which they have been fashioned; the second consists of compositions for which a cantus firmus has been used to provide the thematic material; the last, but not always the most advanced, group includes works where the themes are original inventions of the composers. It is on this ground that the organist evolves the possibility of liturgical usage for the Ricercare as well as the Fantasia. The mere fact that a contrapuntal style labels the composition is not the decisive and satisfactory element to give the work a generally religious impression. On the contrary, the sacred implications are much more concrete or real, that is to say, liturgical. For by a correct choice of the vocal model or of a proper cantus firmus the organist is able to make the Ricercare or Fantasia the substitute of the de Tempore motet. By a wrong choice of the vocal model, the Ricercare will remain "ein fremdes Stueck," foreign to the liturgy, no matter how rigidly the counterpoint may have been carried out. For the Protestant organist this was decidedly the most important factor. The orders of the services pointed out that the organist should play an adequate, or the same, or a related, or an appropriate composition in connection with the Epistle, Gospel, or Sermon, or at other places in the service, and it is here that he could make the Ricercare with themes properly chosen to stand for the appropriate vocal work. In the same sense as the cantata was to function as the de Tempore composition in the Protestant service of Bach’s age, as the motet reflected the character of the Proprium in the age of the Reformation, so the organ Ricercare reached out for the same distinction, not because of its contrapuntal structure, but because its form granted the organist to materialize the de Tempore character. The Protestant composers accepted this position for the Ricercare.

The Venetians opened also other possibilities for the use of the organ in the service. We mentioned the introductory compositions, such as the Prelude or the Toccata. In this category again Andrea, Annibale, and Claudio Merulo surpassed the others. The number of such works they wrote is considerable. The Gabrielis, Andrea, and even more so his nephew Giovanni, had next to the elaborate types of Preludes the simple and purely functional intonations. Indeed, they are exceedingly simple and often very short pieces, unpretentious in any artistic sense, with no aesthetic effect planned by the composer. Since these artistically almost uninteresting intonations have largely been written by Giovanni Gabrieli, considerably younger, but by no means inferior to the genius of his uncle, we learn the frequent assumption not always to be safe that the latest product is bound to be a progressive improvement upon what preceded. It would be a serious misunderstanding to take—as, indeed, it has been done—the purpose for which music is to serve to be detrimental to its artistic qualities. Irrespective of the general implications of this problem, works of the musical past have often become artistically great because they served definite and superior purposes. We do not want to say that the intonations of Gabrieli are great artistic achievements. They are not; they were not intended to be such. But they have to be judged according to the purpose, as all introductory compositions must be viewed from this angle. Again, we should group the introductions according to the purpose, regardless of the names they bear: Prelude, Toccata, Preamble, Intonation, or Introit. So far as we can see, three groups may be established: the first according to a plainly musical purpose of securing the intonation for singers to follow; the second according to the musical composition which is to be introduced; the third according to an unnamed purpose for which the introductory composition is to be used.

In the first group the intonations of the Gabrielis are clearly representative examples. In view of their structure we venture to suggest that these small, unpretentious pieces which do not seem to contain any artistic problem at all have been employed whenever singers followed to perform the chant choraliter. The type is structurally distinct: a few chords around a tonal center and figurative material equally focused on the tone from which to start the chant. Many Venetian composers have set such intonations under various names of musical forms.

The second group presents structures usually derived from the polyphonic composition to follow. This explains the varieties of structures which occur in this group. If, for instance, an elaborate motet is to be introduced by an organ composition, the introduction will appear to be modeled with equal elaboration of the contrapuntal structure. Often the pure intonation and the motet structure are combined in one, and this gives the Toccata of Claudio Merulo its particular distinction, who composed twice the full series of Toccate in the various modes, carrying out both the contrapuntal style and the brilliant figurative form that points to tendencies of the intonation. Merulo has probably given his best in the Toccate. But Annibale Padovano appears to be entirely his equal whenever he has worked according to the same principles. There are also introductions which present themselves fully as Ricercari were they not expressly named Preludes. Obviously, the motet to be taken up by the choir has fathered the form. Thus it was possible to name even the motet itself, played on the organ, to be a Toccata, as is the case in one of the originals.

The third group is rather difficult to establish. Some of Merulo’s Toccate have an extraordinary scope, too large to be merely introductions. They appear to have grown to a size as though they had absorbed the composition which originally was to follow; as though introduction and motet had been coupled the way Toccata and Fugue were to form a unity in times to come. In such a case the introductory composition, if intended to be performed in the service, took, in all likelihood, the liturgical place the vocal motet ordinarily occupied. There are, however, not too many compositions of this type, at least not among Venetians proper. But of the Protestant composers who were attached to the Venetian School there is Hans Leo Hassler, who has composed unique works in this category. The University Library of Padova preserves the Ms. 1982, which contains 39 large works: Ricercari, Fantasie, two Fugues, Canzoni, and introductory compositions; of Hans Leo Hassler, Jacob Hassler, Claudio Merulo, Christian Erbach, Hassler’s successor as organist at the cathedral of Augsburg, and Sweelinck. Among the introductory compositions there are four Introits by Hans Leo Hassler of truly enormous size, with more than 200 double bars. We have no doubt that these immense compositions function as musical forms to stand for the full liturgical act at the beginning of the Mass. In some regulations we read: "After the Preamble has been played on the organ, there follows the Introitus de Tempore." Hassler’s compositions seem to combine both the Prelude and the Introit. Thus the organ composition would embody a definite part of the liturgy itself. If so, this seems to be one of the most important events that has taken place as a result of the relationship between Protestant organists and the Venetian School. For, obviously, Claudio Merulo started to lead the organ composition toward an independent completeness within the service.

Let us finally characterize the sources indicative of the artistic interchange between the North and South in the field of organ music. That in the Padova manuscript Hassler and Erbach appear at the side of Merulo and Sweelinck surely is no accident. Many organ tablatures in the last years of the century accept the Venetian repertory for the ars transferendi, but do not go so far as to carry over the Ricercari and Preludes. The tablature of Jacob Paix (1583) contains only two very elaborate Fantasie which in some fashion seem to presuppose an influence of Venice. Some tablatures have an extraordinary clarity in arranging the organistic material strictly according to the de Tempore, as, for instance, that of Ruehling von Born (1583), who stresses, however, the Netherlandish side of the repertory. There are other tablatures completely careless in any matter of order, as, for instance, the work of Christoph Loeffelholtz of 1585, or, worst of all; the manuscript 1593 of the Prussian State Library at Berlin.

We do not want to burden this information with a list of mere names and dates. It may merely be said that the tablatures dedicated more or less exclusively to the ars transferendi widen gradually their repertory and take over a large portion of the Venetian vocal works to be transcribed for organ. The tablature of Johann Woltz, dated 1617, with over 200 compositions, is a late, though not the last example. Since the number of manuscripts and prints is much too large to be listed here, the situation may be illustrated through the work of Bernhard Schmid the Younger. His tablature appeared in Strasbourg in 1607. It shows the historical change more clearly than many another publication. The turn toward the Venetian repertory is, indeed, complete. Since Schmid’s work has been widely used, its position in history is not insignificant. A large portion of the Venetian introductory compositions is represented, all arranged in the proper order of modes according to which Schmid apparently made his selection to give the German organists enough material of modal Preludes. Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli appear; so do Claudio Merulo and Diruta. The introductory section is followed by transcriptions of motets among which Italians again prevail. There is a special section of twelve fugues by Andrea Gabrieli, Banchieri, Soriano, Mortaro, and others, probably also suggested for usage in the church. And this is more or less the standard type. German Protestant organists accept the repertory of Venice, in full and without change. They play Venetian Preludes, Ricercari, and fugues, and they compose their own works accordingly. The first quarter of the seventeenth century is to a large measure marked by the art of the Venetians. The Protestant organists have, in prompt reaction to the artistic achievements, kept alive the music of the South, as they were also to be the chief heirs to Frescobaldi’s art, which despite the serious efforts of Michelangelo Rossi was rapidly to die out in Italy.

A last intermediary between North and South has still to be mentioned: Jan Pieters Sweelinck, the last Netherlander who goes to Italy, not, as his forefathers did, as missionary of the Netherlandish art, but himself to learn in Venice under Zarlino while at the same time studying the organ works of Gabrieli and Merulo. The journey of Sweelinck to Venice is a clear indication that the Netherlandish epoch approaches its last hour. When Protestant organists later flocked to Amsterdam to study under Sweelinck, men such as Jakob Praetorius, Scheidemann, Gottfried and Samuel Scheidt, Siefert, and Schildt, Sweelinck conveyed many a Venetian form to them—to be sure, no longer in purity of style. For Sweelinck’s work is not the offspring of the Venetian School alone. The English art of variation played an equally, if not more important part in the growth of Sweelinck’s organ music. The Organistenmacher, as he was called in the German North, opened for the seventeenth century a new source upon which to draw.

The new epoch prominent in its organistic accomplishments soon put the Venetian art into oblivion, although Samuel Scheidt has been profoundly stimulated by it.—It may take courage, historical erudition, and taste to revive what has been forgotten for all practical purposes. Whoever is in search after music that once has been the outgrowth of intense liturgical demands will soon find that the Lutheran organist was fully justified in adapting the Venetian art to his own service.

From The Musical Heritage of the Church, Volume II (Valparaiso, Ind.: Valparaiso University, 1946). Reprinted by permission of Valparaiso University.

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