Review of "Tempo and Tactus in the German Baroque: Treatises, Scores, and the Performance of Organ Music." Early Music America. Reviewer: Raymond Erickson. January 17, 2022.
https://www.earlymusicamerica.org/web-articles/book-review-weighty-and-welcome-study-of-baroque-tempo-and-meter/?fbclid=IwAR2Ewy57o61WVIDG2ewDKzVbv8HQZpnGhhH9xldzaT9SUujFgWs-xirR_jo
"This is a book that many of us have been waiting for: one that tackles the frustrating problem of tempo and meter in the Baroque era with scrupulous scholarship, a clear-eyed sense of limits, and the perspective of a practicing musician. It is not an easy read, and the author, Julia Dokter, limits her discussion to the German Baroque, and that mainly in the north; moreover, her discussion of actual music is focused primarily (but not exclusively) on north German organ music. However, this also means that her book is very relevant to interpreting the music of Johann Sebastian Bach.
The weighty tome of over 500 pages is divided into three main parts: Treatise Theory, Score Analysis, and Synthesis. Although she refers to virtually every German theoretical writing of the period, she dwells primarily on two of them: Praetorius’s Syntagma musicum III (1619), which establishes the foundations of German metrical theory, and Kirnberger’s Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik, Part 2 (1776), which presumably reflects the views of that author’s teacher, J.S. Bach. For Praetorius, tempo is based on the concepts of tactus and proportionality inherited from Renaissance notation (“when the measure of one type of meter lasts the same length of time as the measure in the new meter”), whereas Kirnberger, while still maintaining some elements of proportionality, advocates the concept of a tempo giusto (appropriate tempo), calculated from the meter signature, the dominant note-values, and verbal indications (if any).
It is impossible here to detail her arguments. But they are supported almost exclusively by historical sources; her analysis of scores is also based primarily on historical prints and manuscripts, rather than modern editions.
To illustrate the practical application of the theoretical findings, Dokter examines works by Weckmann, Buxtehude, and others before turning to J.S. Bach: the Leipzig Chorales, Mass in B Minor, the Musical Offering, and especially the Art of Fugue, arguing that the earlier autograph version of this work shows in its sequence of meter signatures a gradual deceleration of tactus tempo, whereas the revised (published) version does away with this large-scale organization through the reordering and addition of movements. Moreover, she feels that changes of meter Bach made from early to late versions of the Art of Fugue were done to more accurately reflect the desired Affekt, not a change of tempo.
Dokter also proposes an interpretation of the puzzling, old-fashioned meter signature [f] of the Gigue of the 6th keyboard Partita. This symbol was a post-Renaissance but, by 1730, archaic sign for the “large alla breve” for measures of two whole-notes, equivalent to 2/1 meter in modern notation; for Dokter it signifies here a weightier Affekt than the symbol for cut-time
[], which is found in the Partita’s early version of 1725, although not necessarily a different tempo. She also suggests — citing Michael Collins (1966) and Natalie Jenne/Meredith Little (2001) — that [f] might have alerted performers “to the tradition of resolving duple meter units into triplets,” since there are, unusually, no characteristic triplet figures in this Gigue. (In the Renaissance the circle meant triple division, although of the breve).
Dokter’s very short discussion of dance — which she makes clear is not a central interest of her research — does have a few problems. For example, she fails to distinguish between the solemn French courante and lively Italian corrente: after the early 17th century, only the former can be documented as an actual dance, and their musical styles — and meters — are totally different. She also does not recognize that the ‘Courante” of four of the French Suites are really correntes, a not unique instance of Bach mislabeling compositions.
Throughout the book, Dokter is careful not to claim too much. She emphasizes right at the beginning that she will not propose specific tempos (e.g., metronome values) for any meter or piece of music, believing that tempo is partly the result of particular circumstances; moreover, no German source offers that kind of precise information. Her concern is with relative tempo, which allows a range of reasonable tempi for any given work. This will no doubt frustrate those who want to be told how fast or slow to play something, but it will also frustrate those who think that any tempo at all can be applied to a specific piece. But there is so much information here concerning specific meters and their historical development that anyone who can digest it all will approach the music of the German Baroque with new understanding, conviction, and a sense of freedom."
Review of "Musical Rhetoric Lost in Translation: National, Religious and Linguistic Networks and the Determination of Title in Sweelinck's Organ Variations on Psalm 36"
in Networks of Music and Culture in the Late Sixteenth and Early Seventeenth Centuries. Ed. by David J. Smith and Rachelle Taylor. Farnham, Surrey, UK: Ashgate Publishing, 2013.
1) Fontes Artis Musicae, 62/2 (2015). Review by Kimberly Marshall
"One of the more revelatory studies in the book is Julia Dokter’s discovery of musical rhetoric in Sweelinck’s keyboard figuration. She emphasizes the multi-cultural nature of Amsterdam to argue that Sweelinck was well aware of the musical-rhetorical figures being used in Italy and Germany. Although his famous portrait depicts his hands in rhetorical positions, few have ventured to suggest that this knowledge was in any way incorporated as an expressive feature in his keyboard music. Dokter finds many compelling examples in her fascinating analysis of Sweelinck’s Psalm 36, which she concludes was based upon Clément Marot’s French translation, Le malin le meschant vouloir."
2) Renaissance Quarterly, LXVIII/1 (2015). Review by Robert Judd
"One of the volume’s most convincing essays is Julia R. Dokter’s rhetorical analysis of Sweelinck’s variations on Psalm 36. The variations’ melodic theme could have been drawn from any one of twelve possible origins; relying on musical-rhetorical analysis, Dokter demonstrates that Sweelinck employed Marot’s setting of Psalm 36 (Genevan Psalter [1562]) in its original (French) version, and not a German or Dutch translation. Contrary to current opinion, Sweelinck freely employed musical ideas that assigned semantic meaning to musical figures."
3) Sixteenth Century Journal XLV/4 (2014). Reviewed by Erin Lambert
"Some of the essays direct our attention to the ways in which people and music traveled within networks. Through detailed study of a single manuscript, Emilie Corswarem explores the circulation of organ music between Brussels and Liège. Julia Dokter also focuses on organ music, using rhetorical and musical analysis to place Sweelinck's organ variations within the context of Amsterdam's multilingual psalm culture. Both essays reveal the complexity of movement within a network; Corswarem finds an ever-evolving series of exchanges between two cities rather than a clear transfer from one to the other, while Dokter demonstrates how a composer's interactions within a cultural melting pot might shape his work. Most importantly, her efforts to identify the title of Sweelinck's work demonstrate how such methods might provide an avenue into a composer's intent."
Book Review: Weighty and Welcome Study of Baroque Tempo and Meter
by Raymond Erickson, January 17, 2022
https://www.earlymusicamerica.org/web-articles/book-review-weighty-and-welcome-study-of-baroque-tempo-and-meter/?fbclid=IwAR2Ewy57o61WVIDG2ewDKzVbv8HQZpnGhhH9xldzaT9SUujFgWs-xirR_jo
"This is a book that many of us have been waiting for: one that tackles the frustrating problem of tempo and meter in the Baroque era with scrupulous scholarship, a clear-eyed sense of limits, and the perspective of a practicing musician. It is not an easy read, and the author, Julia Dokter, limits her discussion to the German Baroque, and that mainly in the north; moreover, her discussion of actual music is focused primarily (but not exclusively) on north German organ music. However, this also means that her book is very relevant to interpreting the music of Johann Sebastian Bach.
The weighty tome of over 500 pages is divided into three main parts: Treatise Theory, Score Analysis, and Synthesis. Although she refers to virtually every German theoretical writing of the period, she dwells primarily on two of them: Praetorius’s Syntagma musicum III (1619), which establishes the foundations of German metrical theory, and Kirnberger’s Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik, Part 2 (1776), which presumably reflects the views of that author’s teacher, J.S. Bach. For Praetorius, tempo is based on the concepts of tactus and proportionality inherited from Renaissance notation (“when the measure of one type of meter lasts the same length of time as the measure in the new meter”), whereas Kirnberger, while still maintaining some elements of proportionality, advocates the concept of a tempo giusto (appropriate tempo), calculated from the meter signature, the dominant note-values, and verbal indications (if any).
It is impossible here to detail her arguments. But they are supported almost exclusively by historical sources; her analysis of scores is also based primarily on historical prints and manuscripts, rather than modern editions.
To illustrate the practical application of the theoretical findings, Dokter examines works by Weckmann, Buxtehude, and others before turning to J.S. Bach: the Leipzig Chorales, Mass in B Minor, the Musical Offering, and especially the Art of Fugue, arguing that the earlier autograph version of this work shows in its sequence of meter signatures a gradual deceleration of tactus tempo, whereas the revised (published) version does away with this large-scale organization through the reordering and addition of movements. Moreover, she feels that changes of meter Bach made from early to late versions of the Art of Fugue were done to more accurately reflect the desired Affekt, not a change of tempo.
Dokter also proposes an interpretation of the puzzling, old-fashioned meter signature [f] of the Gigue of the 6th keyboard Partita. This symbol was a post-Renaissance but, by 1730, archaic sign for the “large alla breve” for measures of two whole-notes, equivalent to 2/1 meter in modern notation; for Dokter it signifies here a weightier Affekt than the symbol for cut-time
[], which is found in the Partita’s early version of 1725, although not necessarily a different tempo. She also suggests — citing Michael Collins (1966) and Natalie Jenne/Meredith Little (2001) — that [f] might have alerted performers “to the tradition of resolving duple meter units into triplets,” since there are, unusually, no characteristic triplet figures in this Gigue. (In the Renaissance the circle meant triple division, although of the breve).
Dokter’s very short discussion of dance — which she makes clear is not a central interest of her research — does have a few problems. For example, she fails to distinguish between the solemn French courante and lively Italian corrente: after the early 17th century, only the former can be documented as an actual dance, and their musical styles — and meters — are totally different. She also does not recognize that the ‘Courante” of four of the French Suites are really correntes, a not unique instance of Bach mislabeling compositions.
Throughout the book, Dokter is careful not to claim too much. She emphasizes right at the beginning that she will not propose specific tempos (e.g., metronome values) for any meter or piece of music, believing that tempo is partly the result of particular circumstances; moreover, no German source offers that kind of precise information. Her concern is with relative tempo, which allows a range of reasonable tempi for any given work. This will no doubt frustrate those who want to be told how fast or slow to play something, but it will also frustrate those who think that any tempo at all can be applied to a specific piece. But there is so much information here concerning specific meters and their historical development that anyone who can digest it all will approach the music of the German Baroque with new understanding, conviction, and a sense of freedom."
Review of "Musical Rhetoric Lost in Translation: National, Religious and Linguistic Networks and the Determination of Title in Sweelinck's Organ Variations on Psalm 36"
in Networks of Music and Culture in the Late Sixteenth and Early Seventeenth Centuries. Ed. by David J. Smith and Rachelle Taylor. Farnham, Surrey, UK: Ashgate Publishing, 2013.
1) Fontes Artis Musicae, 62/2 (2015). Review by Kimberly Marshall
"One of the more revelatory studies in the book is Julia Dokter’s discovery of musical rhetoric in Sweelinck’s keyboard figuration. She emphasizes the multi-cultural nature of Amsterdam to argue that Sweelinck was well aware of the musical-rhetorical figures being used in Italy and Germany. Although his famous portrait depicts his hands in rhetorical positions, few have ventured to suggest that this knowledge was in any way incorporated as an expressive feature in his keyboard music. Dokter finds many compelling examples in her fascinating analysis of Sweelinck’s Psalm 36, which she concludes was based upon Clément Marot’s French translation, Le malin le meschant vouloir."
2) Renaissance Quarterly, LXVIII/1 (2015). Review by Robert Judd
"One of the volume’s most convincing essays is Julia R. Dokter’s rhetorical analysis of Sweelinck’s variations on Psalm 36. The variations’ melodic theme could have been drawn from any one of twelve possible origins; relying on musical-rhetorical analysis, Dokter demonstrates that Sweelinck employed Marot’s setting of Psalm 36 (Genevan Psalter [1562]) in its original (French) version, and not a German or Dutch translation. Contrary to current opinion, Sweelinck freely employed musical ideas that assigned semantic meaning to musical figures."
3) Sixteenth Century Journal XLV/4 (2014). Reviewed by Erin Lambert
"Some of the essays direct our attention to the ways in which people and music traveled within networks. Through detailed study of a single manuscript, Emilie Corswarem explores the circulation of organ music between Brussels and Liège. Julia Dokter also focuses on organ music, using rhetorical and musical analysis to place Sweelinck's organ variations within the context of Amsterdam's multilingual psalm culture. Both essays reveal the complexity of movement within a network; Corswarem finds an ever-evolving series of exchanges between two cities rather than a clear transfer from one to the other, while Dokter demonstrates how a composer's interactions within a cultural melting pot might shape his work. Most importantly, her efforts to identify the title of Sweelinck's work demonstrate how such methods might provide an avenue into a composer's intent."
Book Review: Weighty and Welcome Study of Baroque Tempo and Meter
by Raymond Erickson, January 17, 2022
Review of Lecture Recital: "Musical Rhetoric in Sweelinck’s Sacred Keyboard Variations"
in Montreal and Aberdeen, 2011.
Early Music Oxford. Review by Sarah Davies
In a very different kind of enquiry, Julia Dokter explored the importance and influence of text on Sweelinck's organ variations based on Dutch psalms and Lutheran chorales, giving us much food for thought, together with detailed hand- outs with which to follow her exemplary performances. Her findings, the implications of which should be further explored, suggested more text– music associations in the chorales than the psalms."
in Montreal and Aberdeen, 2011.
Early Music Oxford. Review by Sarah Davies
In a very different kind of enquiry, Julia Dokter explored the importance and influence of text on Sweelinck's organ variations based on Dutch psalms and Lutheran chorales, giving us much food for thought, together with detailed hand- outs with which to follow her exemplary performances. Her findings, the implications of which should be further explored, suggested more text– music associations in the chorales than the psalms."
Review of Organ Concert, Basilique Notre-Dame, Montreal, Canada. La Presse, July, 2010
"Julia Dokter, organiste complète"
by Claude Gingras
La Presse
Le deuxième récital de l'été au Casavant de la Basilique Notre-Dame était donné hier par Julia Dokter, organiste canadienne d'origine hollandaise âgée de 33 ans.
Comme l'invité de la semaine dernière, Mme Dokter étudie avec John Grew et, comme lui, avait favorisé un programme très varié - sept compositeurs en une heure! - mais centré cette fois sur le répertoire français de deux grandes époques: le post- romantisme de Widor, Franck et Boëllmann et le contemporain de Jehan Alain d'abord puis de Thierry Escaich et Valéry Aubertin.
Julia Dokter s'est révélée une organiste complète: elle est virtuose, elle sait registrer et elle a quelque chose à dire. Ces trois qualités de base, on put les observer dans les deux pages les plus importantes du programme, à savoir le premier mouvement, Allegro, de la sixième Symphonie de Widor (sol mineur, op. 42 no 2) et le troisième et dernier Choral de Franck, en la mineur.
Puisant avec goût aux ressources complètes de l'imposant orgue symphonique de Notre-Dame, Julia Dokter signa un Widor plein de grandeur et de noblesse et exempt de toute vulgarité (chose difficile à rèaliser dans cette musique!) et traversa ensuite le Franck sur des timbres d'un vif éclat et dans un mouvement frénétique, ce cadeau secret du «vieil ange belge» à sa chère Augusta Holmès prenant soudain un caractère quasi torturé.
Dans le Franck, l'organiste plaça l'Adagio central sur le hautbois 8-pieds du Récit, tel que demandé par le compositeur, mais en y créant une couleur très étrange par l'ajout d'un bourdon.
De Jehan Alain, elle maintint Le Jardin suspendu de 1934 sur les hauteurs désirées, c'est-à-dire les jeux aigus et doux des petits claviers.
Le deuxième mouvement de la Sonatine pour les Étoiles d'Aubertin et la deuxième Évocation d'Escaich, annoncés ainsi dans le programme, furent joués dans un ordre inverse. Ce mouvement obsédant évoquant celui d'une locomotive venait donc d'Escaich, prodigieux organiste et improvisateur entendu ici même il y a quelques années.
Dans ces deux pages actuelles, tout comme dans celle d'Alain, l'organiste transforma, pour ainsi dire, l'orgue romantique de Notre-Dame en un véritable instrument moderne.
Les deux derniers mouvements de la Suite gothique de Boëllmann terminaient le récital. Touchante simplicité de déroulement et de jeux dans Prière à Notre-Dame, tempo trop lent pour la Toccata. Seule pièce «étrangère» du programme, l'ennuyeuse Cantilene de la onzième Sonate de Rheinberger (ré mineur, op. 148) n'y ajoutait strictement rien.
____________________________________________________________________________
JULIA DOKTER, organiste. Hier soir, Basilique Notre-Dame (orgue à traction électropneumatique Casavant (1890-1991); 92 jeux, quatre claviers manuels et pédale).
"Julia Dokter, organiste complète"
by Claude Gingras
La Presse
Le deuxième récital de l'été au Casavant de la Basilique Notre-Dame était donné hier par Julia Dokter, organiste canadienne d'origine hollandaise âgée de 33 ans.
Comme l'invité de la semaine dernière, Mme Dokter étudie avec John Grew et, comme lui, avait favorisé un programme très varié - sept compositeurs en une heure! - mais centré cette fois sur le répertoire français de deux grandes époques: le post- romantisme de Widor, Franck et Boëllmann et le contemporain de Jehan Alain d'abord puis de Thierry Escaich et Valéry Aubertin.
Julia Dokter s'est révélée une organiste complète: elle est virtuose, elle sait registrer et elle a quelque chose à dire. Ces trois qualités de base, on put les observer dans les deux pages les plus importantes du programme, à savoir le premier mouvement, Allegro, de la sixième Symphonie de Widor (sol mineur, op. 42 no 2) et le troisième et dernier Choral de Franck, en la mineur.
Puisant avec goût aux ressources complètes de l'imposant orgue symphonique de Notre-Dame, Julia Dokter signa un Widor plein de grandeur et de noblesse et exempt de toute vulgarité (chose difficile à rèaliser dans cette musique!) et traversa ensuite le Franck sur des timbres d'un vif éclat et dans un mouvement frénétique, ce cadeau secret du «vieil ange belge» à sa chère Augusta Holmès prenant soudain un caractère quasi torturé.
Dans le Franck, l'organiste plaça l'Adagio central sur le hautbois 8-pieds du Récit, tel que demandé par le compositeur, mais en y créant une couleur très étrange par l'ajout d'un bourdon.
De Jehan Alain, elle maintint Le Jardin suspendu de 1934 sur les hauteurs désirées, c'est-à-dire les jeux aigus et doux des petits claviers.
Le deuxième mouvement de la Sonatine pour les Étoiles d'Aubertin et la deuxième Évocation d'Escaich, annoncés ainsi dans le programme, furent joués dans un ordre inverse. Ce mouvement obsédant évoquant celui d'une locomotive venait donc d'Escaich, prodigieux organiste et improvisateur entendu ici même il y a quelques années.
Dans ces deux pages actuelles, tout comme dans celle d'Alain, l'organiste transforma, pour ainsi dire, l'orgue romantique de Notre-Dame en un véritable instrument moderne.
Les deux derniers mouvements de la Suite gothique de Boëllmann terminaient le récital. Touchante simplicité de déroulement et de jeux dans Prière à Notre-Dame, tempo trop lent pour la Toccata. Seule pièce «étrangère» du programme, l'ennuyeuse Cantilene de la onzième Sonate de Rheinberger (ré mineur, op. 148) n'y ajoutait strictement rien.
____________________________________________________________________________
JULIA DOKTER, organiste. Hier soir, Basilique Notre-Dame (orgue à traction électropneumatique Casavant (1890-1991); 92 jeux, quatre claviers manuels et pédale).