music publishing today-a symposium

Music Publishing Today-A SymposiumAuthor(s): JWP, John Owen Ward, Joseph Boonin, Gary J. N. Aamodt, Claire Brook andGeraldine OstroveSource: Notes, Second Series, Vol. 32, No. 2 (Dec., 1975), pp. 223-258Published by: Music Library AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/897067 .

Accessed: 14/06/2014 00:58

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

Music Library Association is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Notes.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 185.2.32.152 on Sat, 14 Jun 2014 00:58:42 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mulias

http://www.jstor.org/stable/897067?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


MUSIC PUBLISHING TODAY-A SYMPOSIUM *

Even the casual observer has noted in recent times that publishing in the field of music is not what it used to be. And, the close observer has been, variously, intrigued, mystified, puzzled, sometimes angered, but often pleased by the ways and means of the industry. My own reactions have led to inviting articles from persons who are, on the one hand, very active in that energetic -sometimes frantic -world of music publishing and whose day-to-day activities have a sizeable impact on the day-to-day activities of librarians, scholars, and performers; and, on the other hand, by a person who consumes, so to speak, the product of the publishers.

The invitations offered to each contributor an opportunity (not a condition) to give an overview of the current state of affairs; to identify trends or tendencies; to comment on the economics of publishing or changing technologies, or both; and to look into any readily available crystal balls, preferably those that are not out-of-print. A hope - realized, happily - was that well established music and book publishers could be represented (by John Ward and Claire Brook, respectively), and likewise a younger, growing publisher (by Joseph Boonin) and a more-or-less academic music publisher (by Gary Aamodt); obviously necessary was the inclusion of an experienced and knowledgeable music librarian (Geraldine Ostrove).

The statements are under the rubric of "Symposium," although the essential elements of question-and-answer and brilliant argu- ment (in this case, it would have been assured) are lacking. No doubt many questions and responses will be aroused in the minds of our readers, and they may be quite properly addressed to the authors, or to the pages of Notes.

-JWP

John Owen Ward (Director of Serious Music, Boosey and Hawkes, New York, and incumbent President

of the Music Publishers' Association of the United States)

The problems of the larger publisher are conceived to be different in kind from those of his smaller colleagues -or at least from those

223



of the very smallest-and to some extent this may be true. If we look at the question historically (and perish the thought that we should so betray our background as to look at it in any other way) we shall recall that most music publishers seem to have begun publishing as a sideline to something else -usually bookselling (Breitkopf, Boosey), dealing in pianos or violins, or copying music (Ricordi); maybe conduct- ing (Koussevitzky); or it has even happened (Novello) that a church musician has felt a lack of suitable music to perform (how about that).

Evidently this kind of one-man activity has the advantage that it can be discontinued at very short notice if things don't seem to be going too well. But once the operation comes out of the back kitchen, and there is a staff of editors and salesmen and people working out royalty statements with sums like three-quarters of sixteen and two-thirds per cent of the first thousand dollars; not to mention engravers, and your own printing plant when you are really into the big time; when you have these things, you have a machine that demands to be fed constantly with new music, even at those times when a frigid observer might say there is no very compelling new music around.

All publishing, except for the schlockiest one-shot cashing-in on a passing fad, involves a serious long-range investment in the talent of creative artists. It is a rare enough skill -certainly rare enough to be, we are told, rather highly paid -to have the ability to forecast which of the latest batch of Nashville graduates will rate a golden disc; but the publisher we are discussing has to back, to the tune of many thousands of dollars, his notion of what the public will want to hear in ten and twenty years' time. For Verdi was of course right: eventually the box-office has to deliver the final verdict.

While our publisher (large size) is demonstrating his faith in a composer's talents, he will usually try to secure a degree of reciprocity in the relationship by means of a contract over a period of years giving the publisher the option to publish each new piece as it comes along (or the "right of first refusal" as the English rather engagingly put it). This contract is not normally for a long period, as such an arrangement can for an unhappy composer consign him to the saltmines - anni di galera, in fact. But if the relationship is a happy one the general contract will be renewed from time to time, the composer will become established, and the publisher will thrive in his symbiotic -let us not say parasitical -role, and will find himself with a Copland providing profits which will finance the early years of several younger composers.

There is, of course, an alternative to this idyll. With a stable of well-established composers producing regularly whatever the inhabitants

224



of stables are expected to produce, where is the need, particularly if it is one's own money, to plough it constantly back into the business and maybe lose the lot? Why not thank our stars for those lucky guesses in the past and market the product we have without risking the development of something new? Well: evidently this can work only for a limited period, as sooner or later every copyright expires. Some publishers seem, consciously or unconsciously, to have followed a course approximating to this; and it is awfully easy to lose the competitive edge and get slightly drowsy when the money seems to be rolling in anyway. But somehow when this happens even the existing golden oldies we have been relying on seem to lose some of their luster, and the publisher becomes hardly a publisher at all, or at least no more of one than those of us who specialize in presenting to the public in some fresh light what has entered the public domain, or otherwise fallen by the wayside.

The music publisher's job, as a kind of parenthesis between composer and performer, is to make the public like what his composers produce. He is engaged, not so much in selling printed music as in exploiting his copyrights in every way he can, making use of the new techniques of communication as they come along.

Alfred P. Sloan, Jr., the gentleman who wrote some years ago an absorbing account of his "years with General Motors," made the often-quoted remark that "our job is not to make automobiles but to make money." Is this true of the General Motors of the publishing world, whoever they may be? I rather think not, at least not without qualification, for if there is one thing that distinguishes a publisher's job from other trades it is the fact that one minute he is calculating in fractions of a cent, and the next he is engaged in the nicest aesthetic and even moral judgment.

Publishing houses, as we have seen, mostly began as family businesses, usually pretty small ones, with the boss in immediate contact with his composers. Ricordi, Schott, Peters, Universal, Durand, Carl Fischer, Novello -anyone likely to be reading Notes can fill out the list without difficulty. Nowadays, alas, with a few notable exceptions, by the ump- teenth generation the descendants are likely to be living on their dividends in Florida, or to have sold out to a film company, while editorial decisions are limited by the need to produce a satisfactory annual dividend. No publisher without a quite vast backlist of staples can hope to survive long today, and I suspect that even the healthiest of us are living to an uncomfortable extent off our fat. Anything like a publishing profit in even the best-known of contemporary composers is a very rare thing, and the books are only balanced by the income

225



from performances, not from the sale of paper. But readers of these notes are primarily interested in just that aspect of publishing, so here goes.

Printed music, stable in price for many years, has in fact remained stable through being wildly underpriced, so that cheap music went on being cheap while paperbacks rose nickel by nickel from the 250 I used to pay for my sci-fi paperbacks fifteen years ago to the $2.45 I shelled out for Watership Down a few weeks ago. Until the past year or so I rather doubt if music has, across the board, so much as doubled in price. Partly this may be due to a feeling on the part of some publishers that competitive pricing is an important ingredient in keeping afloat; partly it comes from the fact that, in music intended primarily for performance, there is, as I say, the "invisible" income that comes from the licensing of performances and other uses, and allows a publisher to rationalize a narrow margin of profit. And, indeed, it can certainly be argued that for such music, the printed sheet is in fact only a kind of catalogue (of a rather expensive kind) the sale of which is not intended to produce a profit in itself, which will result only from the eventual disposal of the merchandise displayed within. Even so, the list price of the vocal score of an opera has to cover the cost of the paper and machining. Such things are not reprinted very frequently; hence the horrifying overnight jumps from $15 to $40 with which library acquisition departments are becoming familiar.

The result of such sudden jumps is naturally a considerable degree of consumer resistance. And the result of the consumer resistance is an effort on the part of the publisher to reduce his prices by cutting corners where he can in this part or that of his production line: less time spent on preliminary editing, a drift from engraving to mysterious "process-work" to autography to a facsimile of the composer's manuscript, the abandonment of any serious attempt at design and so on. Mercifully this tendency is mitigated to some extent by the MPA's "Paul Revere Awards," generally agreed to have raised the general standard of graphic presentation very considerably since its introduction under the lively aegis of Arnold Broido some years ago.

I must confess to a good deal of sympathy with the librarian's occasional wail of protest at outlandish sizes and formats. Even allowing for the fact that the librarian, like the publisher, is there to serve the composer and the public, and not the other way round, we have to admit that a composer sometimes, when in the throes of creation, will commit his thoughts to a format more unusual than practical. Surprisingly, the music schools seem not to devote as much time to these questions as one might suppose - maybe it would be like criticizing a PhD student

226



for his handwriting or brand of soap - and a composer is sometimes well on the road to public acceptance while still content to have only the haziest notion of what happens to his manuscript between his final AMDG and its appearance in print. "Well," you will say, "isn't that where the publisher comes in?" And you will be right.

During the past year or two publishers have been faced not merely with the rise in the cost of paper and other supplies, familiar to all of us, but with an extreme limitation of choice in what is available-fewer weights, fewer sizes, fewer tints. For a period, during which all of the resources of the paper industry appeared to be concentrated on maintaining supplies for the kitchen and the loo, there was a panic-laden rumor that we had seen the last of the special photographic paper that we use for the reproduction of orchestral scores and parts for our rental libraries.

Harder still is the lot of the publisher specializing in scholarly editions of older works, which in the nature of things can expect little or no income from fees: here the printed product has to stand on its own feet financially, while competing with an old-established, almost certainly inferior edition, of which the engraving costs have been written off half a century ago. Diminishing returns set in rather soon: how many musical scholars are prepared to pay the going rate to see the printed result of a lifetime's work on the part of one of their colleagues? And more immediately, how many piano teachers are going to insist on the impeccable edition of the "48" which replaces the superannuated nineteenth-century edition -at five times the price?

A book publisher will think very carefully before he commits himself to undertaking a book of which he expects to sell less than 7,500 copies. There are still musical editions as small as 500 copies. Is technology about to come to our aid? For some time book publishers have been concentrating on efficient long-run printing systems (where the emphasis is naturally on high running speed); now they are turning their attention to short runs (where time must be saved in setup, or makeready as they say in England). No-one can give much thought to this problem without the image appearing in his mind of the machine which, at the appropriate summons, will produce a single copy of the work whose data are stored within. This, of course, is no fanciful dream; the technology is all there, and has been there for years. It only awaits the person who will come along and assemble the pieces into an economically feasible unit, as Dr. Peter Goldmark has done with long-playing records, color television, and other like dodges of an ingenious and life-enhancing nature. And we know what delayed it, do we not? Money, or rather lack of money. No-one is likely to see

227



himself getting much richer as a result of such a development; the prospective advantages simply are not commensurate with the initial investment.

Of course, if the various interests pooled their resources . . . but how likely is such a collaboration in a musical world with three performing rights societies, four or more organizations of publishers, a National Music Council composed of 59 member organizations and speaking with the united authority of the musical world yet hard put to it at times to assemble a quorum of 30? Not terribly likely, it seems; or not just yet.

Because the publisher, in his not infrequent attacks of self-pity, as a change from persecution mania, is inclined to see himself (a noncreative middleman between the composer and the consumer, like his colleagues the librarian, the educator, and the performer) as involved in an ever more hopeless defense of the creative artist, whose livelihood seems under attack from all sides. "His" composer's music is indeed being performed all round us, in concert halls and opera houses, over radio and television, in elevators and bars, and bounced off satellites. But the income from the concert halls has to be multiplied by 10 (thanks to a handout by courtesy of the Irving Berlins and Richard Rogerses) before the Coplands and Druckmans can pay the rent; opera companies have to have a special sense of responsibility to their art before they are willing to pay for the privilege of performing a copyright work to half-empty houses when they could be playing Trovatore for free; the radio station is a local FM, paying a token fee that would not cover the cost of logging a single day's programs; the television is Educational, and Non-Commercial (in spite of the quarter-page ads by the oil company backing its programs) and therefore considers itself outside any obligation to pay a composer as it pays for the electric current it consumes; and so on.

Then there is the systematic copying of the printed page. This is not so much the clearly illegal duplication about which there can be no dispute, as the ever-encroaching claims of "fair use" in the sacred name of scholarship. Most of us, when we were being ground through the satanic educational mill, were faced with three alternatives: we could buy a piece of music, we could borrow it from the library, or if it was not to be borrowed, we could consult it on its home ground until we had absorbed what we needed from it into our general musical and intellectual baggage. Nowadays, we sometimes think in our old- fogeyish way, every sixteen-year-old schoolboy feels he is entitled to have photocopies to take home permanently of any material he wants.

228



If I were not speaking ex officio, and thus likely to be shot on sight by any of my publisher colleagues who detect in my words a dangerous irresolution when confronted with a clear case of breaking and entering, I should say that, with the example of Bach and countless others in mind, I might well look with a lenient eye on the student with enough enthusiasm and application to capture with the aid of his own pencil the secret ingranaggio of a great composer's mind. I'm not sure that Xerox, inestimable boon though it is, can accomplish this for us in quite the same way.

As regards the bogy of photocopying, which I suppose we all agree provides the least area of agreement between the publishers and librarians, I think it may be worth mentioning that the American Library Association is proposing to make a survey of actual copying practices. I wonder if one day the MLA will find it feasible to undertake something of the kind as regards music. In this connection I should perhaps refer to a recent mini-survey that took place in schools in the United Kingdom. This sample covered the copying of publications of all kinds in schools. When extrapolated it indicated that during a 7-week period 27 million copies of publications (not including periodicals and exam papers) were made in England and Wales, or some 108 million pages during the school year. 13% of this was estimated to be songs and carols.

How strange it is that librarians and publishers, who seem reasonably intelligent, educated, civilized, friendly souls in most areas of human intercourse, should become Tom and Jerry whenever photocopying is on the agenda? I think it has become a conditioned reflex. When a librarian is asked for a photocopy of the few pages of a motet from a seventy-dollar volume in a modern Gesamtausgabe he sees a student putting the finishing touches to a thesis, perhaps of an importance to rival that of S. Holmes on The Polyphonic Motets of Lassus (as mentioned in The Case of the Bruce-Partington Plans). The publisher, on the other hand, sees a young skunk planning a concert and too mean to buy thirty copies of an eight-page octavo for his choir. Few librarians, I believe, really condone the second instance, and there may be publishers around who recognize that some at least of the claims of scholarship may be met without plunging the trade into bankruptcy.

Certainly between these two extremes we can find plenty of ground if we set our minds to it; and find it we must if we are to have that new copyright law, so long promised, which will allow the fellow-workers in the world of music to work together on firm ground for a few decades instead of presenting to the outside all the appearance of a handful of survivors squabbling in a rapidly sinking lifeboat.

229



Joseph Boonin (President, Joseph Boonin, Inc.)

Proem: I have become a publisher because I was a book and music dealer. I became a dealer because I was a music cataloger. I became a librarian because I was a graduate student in musicology and had the great privilege to learn of the fascination of matters musico-bibliographic from our esteemed colleague Otto Albrecht. Along with bibliography and a deep love for the German art song, Otto instilled in me a deep, albeit Quixotic, love for the pun. The reader is humbly begged to forgive the author if he indulges, from time to time, in more than the main substance of Otto's teaching.

It is with some temerity that I agreed to write this article, for the eclectic nature of my publishing efforts is second only to the brief span of years that I have been involved in those efforts. Yet, I can but hope that, taken in conjunction with the accompanying articles, the present article will shed some useful light on the problems of present-day music publishing. Since the two worlds of printed word and printed note are such disparate ones I shall develop two short essays bound together by a single title and author -very much in the manner of Due Pezzi Brevi.

My antecedents, as mentioned above in the Proem, are of interest here because the history of so many of today's great music publishers is found to contain at its beginnings a dealer -a seller of music and books of all publishers. It is financially a great deal simpler to generate a sale of, say, $100.00 for a dealer than it is for a publisher. The dealer need but order the music in the quantity and variety requested by the customer, pay for it at wholesale, sell it at retail, deduct his overhead, and (ideally) pocket his profit. If he is prudent and sagacious he has no warehouse of needless copies that he has purchased in excess of any reasonable expectation of need. The publisher, on the other hand, must first invest not insignificant sums in editing, typography or engraving, printing, binding, and storage before he can sell to the dealer at wholesale the items that the dealer requires for his clientele. True, the publisher has one great advantage over the dealer -when a customer wishes to buy a copy of a work published by "X" it matters not to the publisher whether the customer trades with dealer "Y," dealer "Z," or dealer "W," or even if the customer orders directly from the publisher. The ultimate result is that a copy of the work leaves the publisher's stock and a certain amount of money enters the publisher's bank account. The dealer has to make the customer

230



not only want the work but want to buy it from him rather than from some other dealer. This very real fact of life is one that often leads dealers into publishing, but there are several others, to wit:

A dealer is less myopic than a publisher. He sees not only one publisher's catalog but, ideally, catalogs of all publishers. He has a fuller grasp of the total spectrum of what is and what is not being published and, by extension, what does and does not sell.

A dealer often becomes frustrated at the policies of this publisher or that, and if he has the time, the means, and the inclination, he often is overtaken with the irresistable urge to do it better or even to do it right for once.

In the 520 years of printing, hundreds of booksellers and music-sellers have become publishers, and for reasons probably as numerous as they are. The present exposition is intended only to offer a little insight- if not a total revelation -of the whys of the dealer-turned-publisher.

I. BOOKS ON MUSIC Browse in any library of moderate size, skim through any dealer's

catalog, read the advertisements in any music magazine. Any of these brief exertions of mind, eye, and hand will confirm what we all know already: much, perhaps too much is written and published on music today. In this climate, the publisher often has as his prime task the problem of what not to publish. This is especially true for the small publisher. First, he must sharply define the scope of the area in which he hopes to publish and, if prudent, he will limit this scope most stringently. Second, he must set out with this scope in view and strive toward his goal: to achieve commercial success by doing a limited job well rather than to strew the landscape of musical scholarship with many promises half-fulfilled.

In setting his goals the publisher is best served -and best serves his public - by using personal interest and enthusiasm as the springboard of hi publishing program. In my case, a long-standing interest and background in bibliography have been the impetus of my book-publishing program. True, other fields of musical interest have found their way into the catalog but the main thrust has been, is and will be, in the area of bibliography.

In this age of computers, information explosion, and rampant infla- tion, I have found that there is an increasing pragmatism among smaller publishers with regard to the "looks" of a book. In particular, bibliographic studies are often oriented more towards content than towards form, and it has proved successfully expedient to forego the luxuries Qf elegantly produced typeset volumes in favor of photo-offset repro-

231



duction from neatly typed manuscripts. The information imparted is equally valid and the costs saved enable the product to be marketed at a price that is more in keeping with the budgets of scholars and students who must be considered along with the more affluent libraries as potential customers. The inherent danger here is that the publisher becomes so enamored with this inelegant but economical method of book production that when a work comes along that absolutely must be produced along traditional lines -type-set, cloth bound, with the full bibliographic apparatus of LC card number and ISBN-the worry beads work overtime until che final judgment is in. This judgment, most simply stated, is, "Does the public agree with the publisher and his author concerning the merits of the book to the extent of purchasing sufficient copies to make the venture a profitable one?" In the final analysis, the public is the judge. We, the publishers, are all weighed in the balance and found, along with our wares, either wanting or wanted - Mene tekel, but few are chosen.

II. MUSIC Twenty years of activity in the world of musical scholarship have

not dissuaded me from the basic belief that music is and always has been meant to be played or sung on the one hand, and listened to and enjoyed on the 6ther. All the rest is merely peripheral, albeit the best of the rest does much further our understanding and enjoyment of what we are playing, singing, or hearing. I make this statement fully prepared to be expelled from one or more national and international societies (possibly even including the Association that is the publisher of the journal in hand), but it is a risk that I take with a smile on my face and a song (preferably by Schubert or Wolf) on my lips.

Music publishing is, to me infinitely more fascinating and demanding than publishing the printed word. Although pitfalls are greater, the course infinitely more obscure, the capital requirements less onerous, and the joys of success are dionysiac. (Here, as elsewhere in this article, I eschew consideration of the issuer -publisher sticks in my craw -of reprint materials, whether printed word or printed note. I count among this group both friends and foes. I am reasonably certain that they know to which category I have consigned them, and I fear no broken friendships herefrom.)

Perhaps it is true that more music is not being written today than ever before, but certainly more is being brought to the attention of all publishers. One problem a small firm does not have is the established international composer who must either be told that " . . . I know

232



you have seven Guggenheims, half-a-Pulitzer and thirteen Bicentennial commissions but we cannot publish a 45-minute concerto for contra-bas- soon, six flutes and organ pedals," or " . . . yes, I know it will be a smash band piece for the Bicentennial, but we are already tied up with Mr. 's sixty-fifth String Quartet in 28 movements in the 'Allah' mode written for the Sheik of Abou ben Adem which will keep our engravers occupied until late in 1982.991

Consequently, when one is of slight stature, one tries to make do with what comes one's way, and with what one can put oneself in the way of. In a relatively short span of years my publishing activity has run the gamut from frottole to implicit and explicit graphics, from choral octavos to full orchestra scores and complete band sets, and from music that can be performed by culturally deprived sixth graders to pieces that require at least twenty minutes of rehearsal time by the most proficient of the avant gardisti. Our problem as publishers is the problem of the entire musical world today. Stated in its simplest form as it applies to music publishing the problem is as follows:

WE DON'T KNOW WHERE MUSIC IS GOING AND HAVEN'T REALLY KNOWN FOR OVER THIRTY YEARS. WE PUBLISH SOME OF THIS, MORE OF THAT, AND A TOUCH OF THE OTHER. WE KEEP OUR EDUCATIONAL CATALOG FRESH, AND HOPE THAT THINGS STRAIGHTEN THEMSELVES OUT BEFORE OUR REALLY STRONG COPYRIGHTS EXPIRE.

When push comes to shove this is, to a certain degree, our credo as well, with the added spice that we have no strong copyrights (Oh, for a Carmina Burana; oh, for a Billy the Kid!)2

In the maelstrom that is today's musical scene I have attempted to apply two criteria to music that has been submitted for consideration by our firm. Is there real musical merit in this work? That is, does it show more than a technical know-how on the part of the composer? Or, more simply stated, is there among the circle of editors and advisors available to me someone whose musical opinion I value and who will stand up and say something good for the piece on aesthetic grounds. And, is there a market for this piece? If so, can we reach it sufficiently

1. Do not let my paper virtue overwhelm. I would give many years of ASCAP revenue for any one of ten or so composers presently under contract elsewhere, as would most of my colleigues, although a modest touch of sanctimony prevents their candor from finding its way into print.

2. Actually, for the sheer dollars and sense (!) of it, I have always admired Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings, for it meets all of my criteria for a successful serious hit. First, last, and always, it is a hit-a truly great and accessible piece of music that will be around for a very long time. Second, it is for strings and requires only 5 score lines and 5 parts, rather than the 30-40 lines of a full orchestra. Third, it is an adagio and provides both author and publisher with x minutes worth of royalty and revenue production for only y number of pages, whereas the theoretical scherzo of the same duration might use three times the amount of paper. Nothing in the foregoing is intended as pejorative; I do truly like the piece.

233



well to warrant the composer's entrusting it to our safekeeping. Using the first criterion, I admit with a modicum of chagrin that

my personal list of "ones that got away" includes some moderately successful money makers. I mourn their passing, but only in moments of avarice. The second criterion has led us on several occasions to reject very attractive choral anthems, written for church use; and to reject piano and vocal solos and orchestral works that are designed to be promoted by aggressive rental departments, rejecting for the sole reason that were we to accept these pieces, the composers would be ill-served by our inability to promote and publicize the works appropriately.

A third criterion comes into play when we receive a manuscript that is an "edition" of an earlier piece. This is especially pertinent in the area of choral music. Here we must often wrest at gunpoint from the "editor" data on his source in order to determine what he has done in his edition. Has he sensibly and intelligently treated such problems as notation, text underlay, musica ficta, transposition, etc? Has he given a good singing translation that is at least minimally literate? Is his keyboard reduction of an a cappella work an aid to rehearsal, or a hindrance? It is in the area of editions that we are most like the larger firms. If the editor has chosen a good piece as well as one that has no competing editions currently available (a task made easier to verify since the recent appearance of Choral Music in Print), and if the editor is agreeable enough to accept the advice and counsel of our staff in bringing the piece up to certain minimal standards, then we will often accept the piece. We do this primarily because the alternative - rejecting Mr. X's edition of Giovanni Pierluigi Zucchini's Medici Motet "Dov' e l'argento del mio interesso?" and then having one of our own house editors so intrigued with the original that he either makes his own edition of it or commissions one from Mr. Y. -generates so much valid and not-so-valid ill will that we prefer to avoid it if possible. Yet it is in the area of editions of early choral music that we are often at our stiff-necked nastiest. The choral market is vast, and the available material almost beyond number. The little publisher must seek a handle for his product, and for ours we try to have quality of product.

Music publishing in all areas has had a great change in the last century. Engraved plates, while still used to produce an original camera image, are no longer the printing medium. Virtually all music is printed by offset processes. Engravers are dying out (their world-wide average age is about 60) and they are being supplanted by typewriter operators, workers with transfer processes, and autographers (actually copyists with very neat hands who employ rulers and templates to achieve a

234



modicum of uniformity and neatness). All this, combined with the ever-increasing prevalence of composers who employ non-traditional notational devices and who are themselves excellent graphic artists, has given our end product a much more diverse look than obtained in the world of music publishing a century ago. New standards have arisen and many more have fallen by the wayside. What the next century will bring is a matter of conjecture that has no place in the present article.

Perhaps this short essay has glossed too lightly over the intended subject matter. If a glimmer of insight is awakened in a single reader, or if even a single reader is encouraged to explore further our fascinating world of music publishing, then this and the accompanying articles in this volume will have been well worth the time and effort.

Gary J. N. Aamodt (President, director, and co-founder of A-R Editions, Inc.)

A-R Editions, Inc., is now over a decade old, and I am delighted that by contributing this article to Notes I have the opportunity to reflect in a public forum about our development, the situation of scholarly music publishing today, and prospects for the future. I am often asked how A-R Editions was formed, how it is able to stay in existence, and what problems attend our particular kind of publishing. Perhaps my remarks will prove instructive to those interested in our work; at the very least, they will demonstrate how we are able to survive in an economy designed for bigness and mass production, and how we publish music of historical, but not necessarily commercial, interest without compromising our standards of scholarship and production.

A-R Editions began as an effort by myself, while still a student at Yale, and a partner (whose last name supplied the "R" of "A-R")' to publish responsibly researched and edited choral music. Our first publication was a set of five octavos, including hitherto unavailable works by Johri Blow, Johann Ernst Eberlin, and Thomas Tomkins. The response to this publication was slow but appreciative from the few who did purchase and use the materials. In the meantime, we were involved in discussions with a number of composers, and the

1. "A-R" does not signify Acoustic Research, nor are we in any way associated with that firm. I was struck by the coincidental ambiguity of "A-R" one day in 1964 when I disembarked the train from New Haven and walked into Grand Central Station only to be confronted by an enormous "AR" sign. The "AR" belonged to Acoustic Research! Clyde Rykken, my former partner, left A-R Editions in 1971 to pursue a keen interest in publishing editions of neglected early English and American literature.

235



idea to start a series of contemporary choral compositions evolved. We hoped to be able to publish material which, because of its complex, experimental, or avant-garde qualities, was impossible to publish in the usual commercial market where often concerns of what will sell the most dictate what is selected for publication. The result was Contemporary American Choral Arts, and the one volume published in this series featured selected compositions by the late H. L. Baumgartner.

During the first two years of learning, discussion, and publishing, we had been drawn into conversation with musicologists and music historians at Yale and elsewhere, and through these contacts and our own efforts, we became convinced of the great need for a publishing organization in the United States that would specialize in preparing modern editions of old music that would conform to the highest standards of scholarship and production, presenting some of the immense amount of current musicological research, especially by Ameri- can scholars but also by others outside the country, and that would make this material available on as wide a basis as possible. This thinking and planning resulted in our first two historical series, Recent Researches in the Music of the Renaissance and Recent Researches in the Music of the Baroque Era; our aim was eventually to publish quarterly in both series. With the launching of these two Recent Researches in 1964, A-R Editions identified the kind of market it would serve, established a unique role for itself in the U.S. publishing scene, and as a publisher of freshly edited, critical editions of historical music, defined a number of problems that would have to be faced and solved. The immediate considerations fell into three main areas: establishing a basic publishing philosophy, defining editorial procedures, and developing production methods of excellence and efficiency.

The first problem, crucial for the whole direction of A-R Editions, involved deciding the kind of editions we were going to produce. Our commitment was to publish works of merit which either had never been published before or had been out of print for hundreds of years. But how should this material be presented? In short, what is a modern, critical edition of old music? And what about that old troublesome dichotomy of scholarly or practical/ performance editions? Our convic- tion has always been that the two concerns are not contradictory and should not be treated as such in publication. As we see it, the objective of a critical edition is to present the music and prefatory material in a way that the user will know exactly how the editor has handled the source and in a form that is readily accessible to performers as well as to scholars. In principle, the scholar should be able to discern from the edition the music of the original manuscripts or prints which

236



formed the basis of the edition. Editorial procedures concerning a host of topics including clefs, time signatures and note values, ligatures and coloration, barring, bass figures, ornamentation, musica ficta, and accidentals must be thoroughly detailed, and, where present, the treatment of text and orthography must be completely explicated. Moreover, the sources for the edition must be discussed, and a full critical apparatus should delineate variants and indicate errors in the original that have been corrected.

Additionally, the edition should be easily usable by the responsible modern performer. To this end, our editions follow modern conventions concerning notation, clefs, barring, and accidental practice, and our prefaces contain as full a discussion as the editor can authoritatively present about performance practice, including instrumentation, ensemble type and size, and interpretation. Where appropriate, a text and translation section is given so that singers unfamiliar with the language of the original can have some idea of what they are singing about. In short, we see no conflict between scholarly and performance editions, and I hope we never become a party to perpetrating a dichotomy between the two. The modern performer needs all the help and information that contemporary musicology can provide, and surely the desire of the scholar is to have the results of his efforts realized in outstanding, authentic performances. In the past two or three years, we all have experienced a narrowing of the distance between scholar and performer with the mushrooming of increasingly well-informed collegia and old music groups in colleges, universities, and communities all over the country and with scholars taking part increasingly in performance and performers engaging in scholarly pursuits. Indeed, some of the annual meetings of our most "scholarly" music societies now include elaborate collegium musicum activities. All of these develop- ments must be welcomed as bringing life and vitality to the music of the past. In its publishing program, A-R Editions hopes to serve and strengthen the common interests that scholar and performer share, rather than to create barriers and divisions where there ought to be none.

A second major concern is the participation of the A-R Editions staff with the editor in the preparation of the edition for publication. Almost without exception we have enjoyed the cooperation of capable editors, and fortunately so, since we spend enormous amounts of time and energy working with them on their editions. Different kinds of problems are involved in preparing a manuscript for publication than might be encountered in research for the dissertation, and from our experience, it seems rather clear that most university training does

237



little to prepare students for being editors of material that is to be published. Perhaps the best documentation of this is the literally hundreds of hours we spend on each manuscript after it has been submitted to us as "ready for publication." Given this situation, which among other things is time-consuming and expensive, I've often thought that this topic-procedures necessary for preparing a manuscript for publication-should be the subject of vigorous discussion among teacher, researcher, and publisher. For instance, one can imagine at least a profitable session or two given over to this question at a national meeting of one of our music societies. In response to the circumstances we have encountered, A-R Editions has developed house style guidelines for dealing with substantive musicological matters as well as more formal concerns such as format, stemming, beaming, ties, slurs, accidentals, text placement and syllabification, and dozens of other topics which demand a clear editorial policy. Our house style guide has undergone revision and expansion as we have gained experience, and someday we will publish it, for whatever use it might be, as a number of colleagues have urged.

The remaining most difficult problem confronting a publisher and editor in preparing an historical edition is accuracy-accuracy in transcription, proofreading, and assembling the critical notes and other technical data that appear in the preface. By its nature, music is complex, and the possibilities for error are almost infinite. We spend hours on every manuscript double-checking our own work and that of the editor, trying to serve the nearly impossible ideal of absolute accuracy. This attention to detail is painstaking, time-consuming, expensive-and necessary. The "grammar" of music is less well-defined and vastly more complicated than the grammar of language; this state of affairs dictates utmost caution and care so that contemporary publication isn't just material that needs correcting by future musicologists.

Finally, any music publisher must develop a satisfactory way to produce physically the material that is selected for publication. The first choice to make is the process by which the music will be set: autography, music typewriting, or engraving. For reasons of quality and clarity, we determined that our music should be engraved, and through the years we have established some excellent relations with several engravers whose capabilities and quality of work we know well. The great advantage of engraved music is its elegance, its sharp and stylish appearance. The disadvantages are its expense (a nasty phenomenon which attends any system of note setting), the great amount of time it takes to complete a manuscript, and the fact that engraving is a dying art. In recent years, some alternative procedures to engraving, including improved

238



music typewriting, have appeared, and of course, endless speculation about the application of the computer to music-setting has gone on. However, at this writing, engraving is probably still the best method of setting musical material for high-quality reproduction, and we shall no doubt be using this process for some time to come. From the engravings, master copies are made which are used for offset reproduction, now a superior method of printing.

The method to be used for typesetting words is another important decision. In the last five years, the technology has advanced in this area so that outstanding new options are now available. In the past, the production of most high-quality books and journals was done by hot-metal typesetting (linotype or monotype) and letterpress printing, but in the last few years great progress was made by offset printing, which prints from a photographic image instead of the metal type itself. Until today's cold-type systems were developed, reproduction proofs of the metal type had to be printed as an intermediate step for the offset camera. The first cold-type systems (which yield the image of the letters directly instead of casting the type itself in metal first) were of the "strike-on" variety, something of a compromise between typewriting and typesetting, and the results were (and still are) considerably inferior to hot-type composition in both appearance and workability. Finally, with the development and perfection of photocomposition, typesetting technology finally caught up with printing technology. A good photocomposition system yields beautifully set copy, affords maximum flexibility and ease in setting complex material, and never produces broken letters, uneven lines, and other flaws sometimes characteristic of hot-type systems as they begin to wear. A-R Editions has recently chosen the photocomposition system it will use. Beginning with the fall of 1975, the prefaces and forematter of our volumes have reflected this change, and we are pleased with the added stylishness and clarity in appearance that these new procedures have brought.

A-R Editions began its publication of historical series with Recent Researches in the Music of the Renaissance and Recent Researches in the Music of the Baroque Era. During the first years, when the slow process of establishing contacts and procedures was developing, it was difficult to adhere to our intended quarterly frequency in each series-especially because it took anywhere from two to four years to see a book to completion. As we grew in exposure and expertise, things began to flow more smoothly: we had several books simultaneously at each stage of production, scholars began to seek us out as publisher of their research, we began to select and encourage projects that we felt were particularly worthwhile, and our subscription list grew. The decision to publish

239



in series of consistent price and format was a particularly important one economically, for it enabled both ourselves and our patrons to have clear expectations of costs and publication output. Subscribers to our Renaissance and Baroque series now include most large and medium-sized college, university, and public libraries in North America, an increasing number of smaller libraries, and an expanding list of major libraries throughout the world. In addition, we are gratified by the number of individual subscribers we have and by the growing number of single volumes that are being acquired by scholars and performers. There are now twenty volumes available in Recent Researches in the Music of the Renaissance and Recent Researches in the Music of the Baroque Era. Complete sets of both series are still available, although our supply of some of the earlier volumes is very low. New volumes in each series appear quarterly.

As a result of the success of our two original series, we have been able to expand our publishing activities in a number of ways. Production began some time ago for two companion series, Recent Researches in the Music of the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance and Recent Researches in the Music of the Pre-Classical, Classical, and Early Romantic Eras; these quarterly series are now available for subscription, and the first volume in each has appeared. The two series are a logical expansion of the Recent Researches publishing program which until recently has concentrated on the Renaissance and Baroque eras. In addition, we announced only a short time ago the first several volumes that are being planned for another series, Recent Researches in American Music. This series represents a collaboration between A-R Editions and the Institute for Studies in American Music at Brooklyn College and is under the general editorship of the Institute's director, H. Wiley Hitchcock. With this series, we hope to give the same attention to our American musical heritage that most European countries have accorded their musical pasts. The first volume in this series will appear in 1976; publication will be twice a year at first and then increase to four times a year.

We have participated for several years in another significant collaboration with the Department of Music at Yale University. In 1968, A-R Editions assumed responsibility for the production and distribution of future volumes in the Collegium Musicum: Yale University series; the Department continues to provide editorial advice and direction. The distribution of the six volumes that Yale had already produced was also placed in our hands. The Collegium Musicum series was begun by Leo Schrade while he was at Yale, carried on under the direction of Milo's Velimirovic, and is now under the general editorship of Leon Plantinga. The "first series" of Collegium Musicum consists of the six volumes that appeared under the sole direction of the Yale Department

240



of Music; the five volumes published to date in the "second series" represent the joint effort of A-R Editions and Yale. Publication is now twice a year. The arrangement, we feel, provides for an interesting and dynamic integration of scholarly, editorial, and technical expertise.

A-R Editions has also had occasion to provide as a service some of its production skills to other organizations. For example, the most recent volume in the Smith College Music Archives series was produced by us, with editorial matters and distribution remaining in the hands of Smith College. Likewise, the 1975 issue of Symposium, the journal of the College Music Society, was produced by A-R Editions. We have also entered into an agreement with the American Musicological Society to provide the music engraving for the Society's complete works edition of William Billings which is being undertaken jointly with the Colonial Society of Massachusetts. We are pleased to be able to share our capabilities with organizations, who have interests closely related to our own, and we look forward to increasing this activity in the future as time permits and the situation is appropriate.

It is a matter of great concern to us that the music published in our various music monuments series be easily and cheaply accessible to as many interested people as possible. To further this aim, A-R Editions developed its Copyright Sharing Policy, a unique arrangement designed to encourage maximum, economical use of printed materials. Under this policy, A-R Editions will, on request, grant to any subscribing library, any patron of that library, or any private subscriber, permission to reproduce materials for study or performance from any Recent Researches series that the subscriber is collecting. Permission to take advantage of this policy is given automatically upon request, and no charge for this privilege is made by A-R Editions. Of course, the institution or person using this policy must agree not to sell the material that has been reproduced. Our Copyright Sharing Policy has received the enthusiastic endorsement of librarians, scholars, and performers for its enlightened and realistic attitude toward the ease with which materials can be simply and cheaply reproduced nowadays. We have in our files many satisfying letters from persons who, by employing this policy, have been able to use our materials for classroom study and have found a new, inexpensive treasure of performance resources. Librarians, especially, welcome the singular opportunity to encourage reproduction of copyrighted material with the publisher's blessing.

Ever since its origin, A-R Editions has striven to keep the costs of its volumes as low as possible consistent with the need to stay in existence. Those who have watched our development over the years will know that price increases have been infrequent and small. The recent past has been especially devastating for us, as we experienced huge percentage

241



increases in engraving, printing, typesetting, labor, materiel, office, and postage costs (double or more in most cases). Increased subscribership has made it possible for us to absorb many of these rising prices. Such increased subscribership lowers unit costs and also assures that our material is being given wide use. We are especially pained on those infrequent occasions when we receive cancellations to our series. The loss of only a few orders means much to a small firm such as ours. We sincerely hope that the modest price of the Recent Researches (the annual cost of a quarterly Recent Researches series is often less than that of a single volume in other collected works series), their editorial and production excellence, and the advantages of our Copyright Sharing Policy, give virtually every college, university, and major public library ample reasons for acquiring the publications.

Clearly, exposure and visibility must be major concerns for a publishing effort such as ours. We do not have the capital resources that a large corporation would have for promotion, nor can we really rely upon others for the successful distribution of our materials. Early in its existence, A-R Editions decided that it would have to take the major effort in promoting its own editions, and we have relied almost exclusively upon direct mail to make interested persons aware of our publications. Consistent with our being fully responsible for making our materials known, sales of A-R Editions' series are by direct order with the publisher. This policy enables us to know who subscribes to our series and to plan new mailings with a minimum of waste. It is a distinct advantage to our subscribers, too, in that it avoids the increase in price necessary to cover the dealer's commission; it also allows us to give fast, same-day service on all orders. Other savings, especially of bookkeeping and clerical costs, are realized for both publisher and subscriber by our policy of making a single annual billing for our series, where possible. Since costs of promotion (printing, postage, and clerical) are high, we are also greatly helped by prompt responses to our mailings. The more mailing we must do, the greater are these costs, which inevitably must be reflected in increased price. For example, it's probably reasonable to assume that most institutional subscribers who receive the Baroque and Renaissance Recent Researches will also want to acquire Recent Researches in the Music of the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance and Recent Researches in the Music of the Pre-Classical, Classical, and Early Romantic Eras. Yet, we might have to make several mailings to glean these orders. Were we to receive these same orders in only one or two mailings, not only would we be helped in holding down the price of our editions, but we could also plan more efficient press runs for our volumes.

242



As I reflect on some ten years of development, it seems to me that much that is positive has been accomplished in a relatively short time. Perhaps most significantly, A-R Editions has established itself as a viable, non-commercial publisher of historical music and related material. The resulting organization possesses experience and expertise that ought to be an important resource for publication to the community of scholars, music librarians, and performers. Our immediate concerns include gaining more subscribers for Recent Researches in the Music of the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance, Recent Researches in the Music of the Pre-Classical, Classical, and Early Romantic Eras, and Recent Researches in American Music so that these three series will be firmly established and begin to pay their own way. We also will continue to encourage those institutions that have not yet acquired Recent Researches in the Music of the Renaissance, Recent Researches in the Music of the Baroque Era, and Collegium Musicum: Yale University to do so while complete sets of the published volumes in these series are still available. Further, we will, where appropriate, lend our help to organizations and groups with special needs that we are well-equipped to fill.

Beyond the above activities, a number of new projects which fall outside the scope of the Recent Researches series are under active discussion. I firmly believe that new publication in the future should be the result of wide consultation and consensus with individuals and representatives of institutions we serve, so that wise priorities can be defined and the most urgent publication needs satisfied. A-R Editions is a unique publishing instrument that has a special role in serving the interests of a community of alert musicians-scholars, librarians, and performers. Involving this community in setting directions for the future is an exciting challenge and an important goal. If this can be done successfully, I'm confident about the future of A-R Editions-that this future will bring an increased tempo and range of publication and that the projects undertaken will be pertinent and useful to the community that A-R Editions seeks to serve.

Claire Brook

(Music Editor, W. W. Norton & Co., Inc.)

Several months ago, an article appeared in the New York Times under Alden Whitman's byline, with the banner: "University Presses Being Transformed Into A Profitable Best-Seller Venture." Since the prime

243



function of newspaper headlines is to attract the readers' attention by whatever means -exaggeration being the most innocent and grammar being no object-we can usually discount much of the headline's implications. Actually, the article referred to tentative experiments in "popular" publishing by several universities, and to one best-seller (on French cooking!) published by one university press in the fall of 1974. (Doesn't it still take more than one swallow to make a summer?)

The article contends that the primary concern of the university press should be to make a profit rather than to continue publishing valuable contributions to scholarship. To my mind, this emphasis is not only inappropriate, but can have serious consequences for teachers, librarians, and bibliophiles in all fields.

As a representative of commercial publishing, it may seem unsuitable for me to inveigh against the principle of profitable university press operation. I don't. I only take exception to that shift of direction, that re-ordering of priorities -which can result in the publication of sexy fiction instead of significant Festschriften. And it is because I am familiar with some of the verities of commercial publishing that I feel so strongly about the vital role played in American life by the university press.

In the course of his Times piece, Mr. Whitman says: ". . . profound changes are quietly transforming the country's 90 university presses from somnolent enterprises that proudly ran up deficits by issuing almost exclusively academic works into bustling businesses that are issuing more and more books of general interest." On the face of it, Mr. Whitman is simply speaking out in favor of American free enterprise, but what he is describing might well be considered a gigantic tax rip-off. As educational, non-profit institutions, university presses are tax exempt. They operate with the lowest possible overhead, usually occupying rent-free quarters, enjoying university services, and frequently availing themselves of substantial publication subventions. They often have the ability to borrow money from the parent institution at little or no interest. Traditionally, university presses do not have to offer authors a scale of royalties competitive with commercial houses, and rarely, if ever, are they expected to pay large advances, a notoriously high-risk element in the publishing business.

In addition to the economic shelter, the university press enjoys the prestige automatically transferred from the parent institution to its publishing arm. It is therefore incunibent upon them as a group to publish those worthy projects which could never see the light of day if left to the world of commerce, with its merciless, inflexible formulas for survival.

Perhaps the best way to emphasize this point would be to mention

244



some of the factors operative in commercial publication of books on music today. It seems safe to assume that the conditions prevailing at Norton exist at other firms as well-the differences being only in degree. Norton publishes more titles in music annually than any other major house in the country and is, to my knowledge, the only firm whose staff includes a music editor and assistant who work fulltime on music books.

But let us go back to square one: there are two ways by which music-book manuscripts arrive at Norton. The first is an elective route: careful and constant appraisal of our music list reveals lacunae - subjects we would like to see covered, textbook areas in which we do not have a front-running title, and so on. Our college travelers, bright, well-informed young professionals, ply the college circuit representing Norton books, discussing teacher's needs, preferences, and dislikes, and report to subject editors in the New York office on manuscript prospects they encounter. They also report on likely authors, those promising teachers and music librarians who, they believe, should be actively encouraged to write books in their area of expertise. These recommen- dations are taken seriously and acted upon if the projects described seem practical possibilities for our college list. The development of a textbook often involves a kind of creative editing which goes far beyond the standard editorial obligation to ensure comprehensibility and coverage. There may be active interchange of ideas between editor and author as well as chapter-by-chapter criticisms and revisions. A book may be brought along slowly, tested, read, and re-read. The author may be heavily involved in questions of design and illustration. A great deal of time, energy, and money is usually expended in the creation, cultivation, and production of a new textbook for the college market. And a like amount of the same commodities later go into its promotion, distribution, and maintenance.

The second highway to the door of the publisher is more heavily travelled. In the course of a single week, between ten and fifteen manuscripts and book proposals may be deposited on my desk. Although some publishing houses must hire procurement editors to scour the countryside for likely publishing prospects, the esteem in which Norton is held in the field of music largely eliminates the need for this kind of stalking. I like to believe that this respect for the Norton list is a direct result of the care which has traditionally been exercised in choosing authors who can write, in evaluating manuscripts, in editing highly specialized material, in supervising the production of both text and music examples, and -of great importance -in keeping books in print, permanently available to the public even after the initial sales volume has declined.

245



What are those manuscripts which arrive "over the transom"? About fifty per cent are textbook projects for real or imaginary courses, currently being offered or ardently envisaged. About one-quarter are "popular" books, written by and for that ephemeral, elusive segment of the consumer population, the informed and enlightened amateur musician. Finally, there are the inevitable revised dissertations, enlarged monographs, expanded articles, translations from the Sanskrit. Much of this may be academic detritus, to be sure, but from time to time, there is a great "find."

Everything is read. Then, in the words of Jacobovsky, there are two possibilities: on the one hand, the wildly impractical projects, the books which address themselves to areas already adquately covered in our list, the over-ambitious and the under-literate, call forth what is, I hope, a polite and constructive letter of rejection. On the other hand, the manuscripts which seem to have possibilities will be passed on to a second reader, selected from a roster of specialists on whom Norton regularly calls. The advice of these readers is weighed and is discussed with the editorial board. Once again, there are two possibilities: if the consensus is negative, the polite, constructive rejection letter is once again employed, usually amplified with some suggestions for alternative action by the author. If the reaction is positive, an exchange of ideas, suggestions, requests for further materials, table of contents, etc., will follow. When there is enough additional material to warrant it, we have a second reading-go-round. In the case of a potential textbook, several teachers giving the course in question will be asked for their opinions on the need for and the practicality of the materials. If our hypothetical manuscript is a trade book, a book of general interest, a highly specialized monograph or reference work-in other words, a book with obvious merit but no obvious college course adoption potential - we will attempt to ascertain the size of the possible readership and assess the durability of the title as a backlist item (is it timeless?; does it supply essential information to a special interest group such as librarians, bibliographers, graduate students, etc.?)

It is at this point and with this kind of book that we must separate the commercial from the university press. If a book's potential audience is too small, the book cannot be produced commercially. It is an incontrovertible fact that all of the costs incurred in the making of a book must be reflected in its selling price. If the cost of composition, music examples, printing, binding, paper, etc., cannot be spread over a large number of copies printed and sold in a reasonable length of time, then they must be absorbed in a smaller printing. This all too frequently results in a book being priced out of its market. It also leads to remaindering, a fairly safe exit for the publisher with a

246



limited-appeal volume on his hands, but with regrettable results for the author. Does this mean that the specialized book with a small readership cannot be published at all? If the university press, with its built-in economic advantages, turns to "general interest" publishing, diversifies its list indiscriminantly, and applies profit and loss criteria to its activity, this will be the inevitable result.

This may not be the appropriate place to discuss the various ways and means available to the university press for the production, distribution, and discounting of its titles in order to minimize the deficits that Mr. Whitman deplored. In any case, it would be exceedingly presump- tuous of me to try to instruct - even in my own field of expertise - some of the venerable elder statesmen who direct university press operations. May I be allowed, however, to ponder, publicly, about the one important university press which, I am informed, still employs, almost exclusively, the services of the same letterpress firm that extended credit to it when it was founded in the late nineteenth century. Between this kind of woolyheadedness and French cookbooks, -there must be a happy compromise. Because I am so concerned about the unhappy consequences which would result should the university press abdicate from small-run, specialized publishing, I have perhaps over-emphasized the responsibilities unique to the academic-based house. Even though Norton must decline publication of projects of obviously limited market, we do attempt, I believe, to "pay our dues." The commercial firms that enjoy the financial returns from successful textbook publishing do owe the academic community some special consideration: namely, the publication of high-level, if marginally profitable books which, incidentally, also serve to enhance the publishers' list and raise his prestige. Every year, a number of Norton titles will be produced simply because they are important and significant additions to the literature and "belong" on a distinguished list, in spite of fiscal conderations (the Norton Critical Score series being a case in point.)

Now, in closing, the commercial publisher, so often maligned for his venality, for his indifference, for his skimpy margins, for his "yellowable" paper, will now call upon the reader to pay his dues: buy the books of which you approve; do not limit your support to the ubiquitous "desk" copy. Recommend those books to your students and order them for your library. Complain to the publisher about slovenly typesetting and proofreading, shoddy and gimmicky "packages," illegible music examples, imperfect binding, built-in obsolence. Discour- age the thoughtless and illegal -use of the Xerox machine. Xeroxing is not a solution to the problems of rising prices, but in the long term, accomplishes just the opposite, as has been amply demonstrated in the music-publishing field. Above all, you, the reader, must demand

247



literary, as well as scholarly quality in all professional publications, regardless of price or provenance.

Geraldine Ostrove (Librarian, Peabody Conservatory of Music)

Most of the music with which music librarians are occupied consists of current publications, i.e., materials added new to the institution's collection or rented from currently available stock. Without diminishing the historical and utilitarian importance of older publications or of manuscripts, it is generally true that the products of publishers presently active in the fields of Western art, popular, and folk music demand a large portion of the time spent on selection, ordering, cataloguing, processing, and reference assistance, and that they absorb significant amounts of library budgets and shelf space. Our clients generally use currently published music when performing, and for some of them it serves as material for research. Thus, the influence of music publishers pervades nearly every aspect of our pursuits as librarians, so that their advertising, the formats, accessibility, quality, and durability of their products, and, ultimately, the cost of music are all matters of major concern to us. This article will examine music publishing, mainly as it pertains to Western art music, from the librarian's point of view, describing the materials we receive from publishers and commenting on some of the problems and lacunae which have come to our attention.

PUBLISHERS' CATALOGUES Librarians responsible for obtaining music do not have at their disposal

a trade publication of national scope comparable to Books in Print or the Schwann Record and Tape Guide. However, during the past several years efforts to acquire bibliographical control of current publications in music have resulted in substantial progress toward that end.' These compilations demonstrate that an international subdivision by medium is the most accessible path through the mass of available material. Although it appears that, as with other types of publications, coverage of music is likely to be incomplete, the major lists which have appeared are certainly useful. But is seems unlikely that music librarians will ever be able to dispense with a multiplicity of primary sources for

1. Margaret Farish. String Music in Print. 2d ed. New York: Bowker, 1973. Choral Music in Print. Philadelphia: Music Data, 1974. 2 v. Joseph Rezits and Gerald Deatsman. T7he Pianist's Resource Guide; Piano Music in Print and Literature on the Pianistic Art. Park Ridge, Ill.: Pailma Music Corp.-N. A. Kjos, 1974. Organ Music in Print. Philadelphia, Music Data, 1975 (distributed by Theodore Presser).

248



the selection of music titles to buy or rent. It is largely upon the music publishers themselves whom we shall continue to depend for information, be it directly or indirectly.

Information from publishers reaches librarians through three sources: I. Directly from the publisher

The catalogues, flyers, and brochures issued by music publishers advertise music from a variety of aspects including: lists of all titles published by a particular firm; a selection of titles subdivided according to medium, format of the scores, or pedagogical intent; separate catalogues for works in a particular medium (strings, brass, chorus) or for a single instrument (solo and in combinations); titles comprising series; any of the preceding combined with books about music published by the same firm; the works of a single composer; and works available on rental (as a separate catalogue or in combination with materials that can be purchased). Catalogues may or may not specify the format (e.g., score, parts, set of scores) of the works they list. II. Through dealers

Dealers provide a comparable variety of advertising matter. They too send publishers' catalogues to call attention to materials which they stock or can obtain more or less easily. Sometimes the dealer is the librarian's only source of such catalogues as not all publishers mail directly to libraries. If the dealer is also a publisher, or the publisher a dealer,2 a catalogue or list often contains a selection of titles published by several firms. Some dealers include the publishers of the works they list. Some include the publishers some of the time, and others do not mention the publisher. III. Through advertisements in journals

Some publishers reach their potential market mainly by placing advertisements in journals. New music is also brought to the potential buyer's attention when it is reviewed or included in a journal's own list of recent titles. Notes, Musique et instruments, and the Musical Times are among the numerous journals which provide such access to new publications.3 For reasons of economy and because publishers and performers need

not rely on the bibliographical minutiae so essential in library work, publishers' catalogues frequently include as many entries as possible

2. The dominant commercial emphasis of firms operating in both capacities may not be immediately obvious, but should nonetheless be understood by librarians.

3. It should be noted that librarians cannot depend solely on commercial sources to call their attention to new music. Library of Congress proofslips, for example are a very useful source of titles. However, a general discussion of sources for the selection of music is beyond the scope of this article.

249



in the smallest amount of space. This practice results in a certain amount of abbreviation. Vocal scores provide an illustrative example. They are likely to be listed as a category, so the arrangement need be mentioned only once. Language may be indicated in abbreviated fashion, such as by the first letter of each one which the edition includes. Sometimes a symbol calls attention to clothbound volumes. With only a small amount of interpretation and transposition a library searcher is able to determine whether the institution owns or needs a particular edition, and an order librarian can specify a cloth binding. The procedure is fairly simple if virtually all of the essential bibliographical information is present (however, it might be of importance to the library to know the name of the translator).

But comparing a publisher's catalogue with the library's holdings may also be more problematic. Sometimes the composer's first name is omitted. The title may be abbreviated or translated, or it may represent an excerpt whose origin is not mentioned. Without referring to a secondary source, it may not be possible to ascertain whether the work is originally for the vocal or instrumental medium listed, particularly if an editor's name is not given. Even the inclusion of opus number, catalogue number, or key may not provide sufficiently explicit information about a piece by a composer whose works either are published in more than one textual version or have not been bibliographically analyzed by a scholar whose research is well known and likely to be accessible in the majority of libraries. Especially confusing are short instrumental works with brief titles such as "Pavan" or "Arioso" and vocal works with translated titles. It may be virtually impossible to tell whether a work already in the library's collection is the same as one advertised unless the music is available for comparison. Distinctions which might be obvious to a performer familiar with the various editions of the literature in his field belong to a category of specialized information which members of a library staff do not necessarily possess in comparable detail, and certainly not for editions of music in all of the media represented in library acquisitions.

Because most publishers' catalogues are designed primarily for performers, they are usually organized by medium rather than in strict alphabetical order by composer, the principal direction through which they would be searched for in a library's card catalogue. Some vocal music catalogues are arranged by title.

Publishers who are United States agents or distributors of foreign imprints include selections of foreign titles in their own catalogues and also provide separate lists of such titles. These distributorships change hands from time to time, so librarians have had to maintain in-house address files in the absence of up-to-date published lists of

250



American agents. It has also been found that the local agents do not invariably stock every title listed in a comprehensive foreign catalogue, so that it may be necessary to import what the library has ordered.

MUSIC FOR SALE AND FOR HIRE Apart from consideration of what is announced in catalogues is the

question of what is and is not actually available for purchase or hire. The issue has two aspects: 1) what is in print and what out of print, and 2) the choice of which works shall be available for purchase -and in what form -and which on rental.

Given the durability in numerous instrumental and vocal repertoires of music from virtually all periods, the appetite which many musicians have acquired for rarely performed works, and the large number of recent and new works which composers wish to have published and performers hope to read and prepare, the problems of commercial production and storage might appear formidable even to the uninitiated. And on occasion, the ordering of music seems to have a hit-or-miss quality, particularly when titles which are known to have been available in the past, or which are not obscure, are found to be out-of-print. Equally surprising is the discovery that music which had been available for purchase can, at a later date, be obtained only for hire. Those librarians fortunate enough to have bought such works may nevertheless eventually suffer the disadvantage of not being able to replace damaged or missing parts, or indeed, the entire work, should that be necessary.

Full-size scores and performance parts for much of the orchestral and dramatic repertoire published since the late nineteenth century have never been available for purchase, but must be rented and royalties paid to the publisher or holder of the performance rights. (However, many contemporary works for band are sold.) There are even editions of works in the public domain from earlier periods whose editorial matter, inseparable from the music itself, has been copyrighted, and among these are some which can be obtained only on a rental basis. Thus, a large portion of the standard modern literature and some authoritative editions from the period of common practice harmony cannot be found in public libraries which otherwise provide performance parts for large ensembles, and schools which furnish music for resident performance groups are limited to renting this music for specific occasions. Recently, there has arisen a tendency to remove contemporary music for smaller and smaller groups from sale catalogues, until one finds that even some string quartets can only be rented. While a prominent reason cited for this trend is to control use of the music in order to assure that composers will be compensated for the perform-

251



ance of their works, the situation is complicated by the inclusion of editorial copyright in such protection. But in fact there are compelling justifications for placing fewer rather than more restrictions on the purchase of music. Furthermore, the composer need not be denied his or her rewards.

From the pedagogical standpoint -and here it is the conservatories and schools of music with which we are concerned -the musician's academic training is intended to provide a substantial part of his preparation for a professional career. Composers, as well as conductors, instrumentalists, and singers who will be active as teachers or in professional performance groups, all need the tuition which ensemble performance and individual study of their part provide. When schools cannot offer immediate access to a large body of literature because they cannot own it and because frequent renting of it is prohibitively expensive, what should be an intensive aspect of a student's training is treated rather superficially where these works are concerned. As a result, the student embarks on his career with certain deficiencies over which the school has no control. Books of orchestral excerpts are able to fill in some of the lacunae in repertoire, but they offer no substitute for ensemble experience. Yet as the size of ensembles for which music must be rented becomes smaller, an increasing number of modern works becomes virtually unavailable. We are faced with the paradox of encouraging the protection of the economic interests of publishers and of composers still living at the expense of curtailing access to a body of music containing works which provide many of the most difficult technical challenges to performers. (Revenues from the renting of music belonging to earlier periods often accrue entirely to the publishers, and not to the composer's heirs.) For reasons of their difficulty alone these works should be easily accessible for prolonged study.4

Composers are eager to have their works performed and would surely benefit from a more energetically cultivated tradition of new music nurtured while performers are young. Furthermore, the rapport created by youthful musicians with audiences of their contemporaries and with school groups of all ages offers enormous potential in the development of audience interest in new music. It seems, therefore, that the economic

4. One cannot avoid observing that this entire situation is a contributing factor to the very pronounced retrospective character in the repertoires of so many symphonic and chamber music groups. That they are often reluctant to tackle new music is a reflection of patterns established during their members' formative years, when opportunities to explore the new, the challenging, and the experimental may have been limited owing in part to the difficulties of obtaining performance parts, and even scores, of many works. This perpetuates the reliance on literature chosen not wholly for its inherent musical value, but simply because it is always available.

252



objectives now governing the publication of recent music are to a certain degree self-limiting.

One of the factors influencing the retention of music for rental only is an ambiguity relating to what actually constitutes publication. Unpub- lished works are covered by common law copyright. Once a work is published, its statutory copyright coverage begins, and thus begins to expire. The date at which the work will enter the public domain has thereby been determined.5 The unresolved question is whether the distribution of copies of manuscripts of music covered by common-law copyright is de facto publication. It has been observed that unpublished music is easily revised by the composer should he wish to do so, but with some perseverance librarians may be able to rent it or obtain scores for examination. It is also possible to rent unpublished music by composers no longer living, but here too it may be necessary to negotiate with several parties before permission for performance is granted.

One category of published music exists on the borderline between sale and hire, namely, music for the mixed media of live performers and pre-recorded tape. Only a few of the publishers who sell the printed scores also sell the tapes, without which the music is incomplete. Sometimes the tape is available from a different publisher or from the composer, if he can be located. Otherwise, the tapes must be rented. The printed portions may include a pictorial rendering of all of the taped sounds or only pictorial or verbal cues for the performers.6

One of the facts of life about music used for performance is that scores and parts will be marked with articulations, bowings, and other nuances of interpretation. However meticulous the composer's notation may be (and many are intentionally unspecific about notation), each time a work is presented the conductor and performers will express these nuances differently. As a result, rented music takes quite a beating as the few sets of parts produced and circulated are used repeatedly. It is not uncommon to receive a rented set in poor condition, either because neither the previous users nor the publisher's rental department has erased the markings, or because the music is tattered and brittle, the corners of its individual parts curled, and pages loose from the score. Professional organizations, schools, and amateur groups have had experiences of this kind. Orchestra librarians should allow themselves time before the first rehearsal to make some temporary repairs

5. Proposed new copyright legislation is likely to change the present period, 28 years renewable for a second 28-year period.

6. With few exceptions, music for electronic media alone is not meant to be reproduced by a performer, but only "played back," so that it exists either as an audible rather than a written document or in the form of an unpublished diagram, graph, computer program, etc.

253



and, with a large, soft eraser, to clean up the parts before distributing them. Music which is to be rented should be ordered as far in advance as possible to reserve it for the date when it will be needed and so that, in the event it must be imported, the least expensive mail carrier possible can be utilized. The standard rental period is six weeks and additional charges are imposed if music is kept for a longer time.

FORMATS OF SCORES AND PARTS Music is published in a great variety of formats, some of which can

serve for both performance and desk study and some which are convenient only for one or the other. Miniature (study, pocket) scores may be too small to conduct from, although many conductors do use them for works not requiring an unusually large orchestra. Miniature scores offer the advantage of lower cost than large (full) scores and generally greater availability, for many works cannot be purchased in the larger format. But miniature scores of works for a solo instrument, or for chamber music with piano, cannot be used by performers, whereas performance editions of such works are equally serviceable on the music stand and at the reading table. Recently, a format called a playing score (German: Spielpartitur) has reappeared, by which is meant that each player performs from the complete score rather than from a part for his instrument alone. Playing scores for contemporary music can be purchased singly or in sets. Vocal scores (piano-vocal scores, organ-vocal scores) are virtually always used by solo singers and choruses and by their rehearsal accompanists. These scores can also fulfill some of the requirements of other users in the absence of miniature or full scores.

In terms of publishing practice it is not possible to generalize about what is contained in a set of chamber music parts: the set may consist of a part for each performer; it may or may not include a score; if a singer is required there will probably not be a separate voice part, in which case a piano-vocal score will have to be ordered separately; some older music for duet or trio combinations is published in score and available only in sets. Two-piano works may be published as a set of two two-piano scores, as a set for first and second piano, or as single scores. From the librarian's point of view there would be some advantage in standardizing the format of a set of chamber music parts, but there are equally if not more compelling reasons not to do so considering the various requirements of the users of these materials. It would be helpful, however, if the format in which works are issued were always specified in publishers' catalogues.

Sets of parts for orchestra (orchestrations) and band are published

254



in the format most suited to each type of ensemble. Because the number of string players varies among orchestras, the set contains only one part for each instrument and the additional number of strings needed is specified when ordering. If duplicate band parts are required, or if the band is large, the designation "symphonic band" is used. Some orchestra and band sets, among them works likely to be used by pre-college school groups, are published in versions for two or three different sizes of ensemble. Orchestral scores are rarely included automatically with a set of parts for sale. While scores may usually be purchased separately, occasionally there is no companion score for a set of parts and one must be sought with a different imprint. The latter situation may also apply to vocal scores to be used in performances with orchestral accompaniment. If a full score or vocal score is not known to match the instrumental parts, even if the text is the same each may have its own system of rehearsal numbers, so that once the materials are received time should be allowed to write in the necessary changes. String parts are always available individually, although parts for the other instruments may not be. Band music sets usually include at least one score, either a full score or a condensed score,7 but many include both. Band scores are less likely to be available separately, and only rarely are individual parts for sale.

LEGIBILITY AND SIZE Various photoprinting processes are now in use which duplicate music

both as reprints (usually of works originally engraved, lithographed, or type-set) and as original editions of composers' or copyists' manuscripts, or of copy produced by a music typewriter or a computer.8 Preparing music manuscripts for publication is the most costly technical aspect of the publishing process, so that an increasingly large proportion of scores must be submitted for publication in camera-ready copy. Added to this number are those scores in new notation for which the symbols and other illustrative matter must be hand-drawn because it would be too expensive or inappropriate to prepare punches for them. In fact, some composers insist their music be published only in facsimile. Many composers and autographers possess a legible and even beautiful hand; others are less fortunate, and their work may be difficult to read. While compensation can often be provided in the form of carefully chosen paper and properly controlled intensity of image, the opposite

7. In a condensed score doublings of parts are almost all omitted and the whole is written on as few staves as possible.

8. Facsimile editions of manuscripts published as historical documents rather than as performers' scores will be considered separately.

255



may also be found in published music. If the quality of the paper is inferior, both legibility and durability can be affected, as in some recently published scores which are received with page edges already turning brown. The process of deterioration soon works its way toward the center of the page, decreasing further what may even initially have been poor contrast between printed and blank areas. Simultaneously, the spine also weakens. Blueprint and Ozalid scores are perhaps the worst offenders because the printing process requires ammonia, which contributes to the rapid discoloration and disintegration of paper.

Another hazard to the reader is the photoreproduction of an old printed score for which the plates of the copy (or copies) that were photographed were worn, damaged, uneven in their impression, or all of these. If the reprint publisher has not made the necessary adjustments, the result may be too light to be read in some areas and too dark, with consequent running together of noteheads, in others. Researchers can perhaps tolerate these irregularities, but not performers, who can neither puzzle out questionable passages while playing nor clutter the pages with clarifications. In many cases where it would have been appropriate, misprints are not corrected in these reprintings. Yet musicians would roundly applaud the selective editing of some of the more blatant examples of the perpetuation of corrupt texts represented by certain "unaltered" reprints.

The reduction in size permitted by photo-offset has proved both a boon and an inconvenience. On the one hand, it has enabled miniature scores to be produced quickly. On the other, it has resulted in reprints of scores and performance parts which are not quite large enough to be read easily from a music stand.

General considerations of legibility suggest that, in addition to good paper and visual contrast, it would be desirable to have some standard of minimum note size and distance for performance materials, at least for those in conventional notation. Generous margins, too, provide a visual advantage which should not be overlooked, even in the context of efforts to cut costs and conserve paper.

Manuscript facsimiles prepared as historical documents are rarely usable for performance, be it because the score is a sketch or because the composer's or copyist's hand is difficult to read. Some facsimiles are in obsolete notations. A genuine facsimile reproduces the original exactly on good-quality paper: size, folds, tears and holes in the original vellum or paper, color, foliation, spots and smudges. Depending on the length of the manuscript, such reproductions can be very costly. Also described as facsimiles, however, are less meticulous reproductions, such as standard photographs in black and white or color on flat or glossy paper; enlargements from microfilm; line facsimiles, in which

256



the background has been omitted; and any others where the process of reproduction or editorial adjustments obscure or clarify the original. Facsimiles of all kinds may be published separately or they may be included, generally in the form of selected leaves from the original, as illustrations in editions where the notation is modernized or otherwise transcribed.

BINDING For library purposes, the most desirable binding is represented by

those publications with saddle-sewn signatures, a durable cover suited to the size and weight of the volume, and pages which will lie flat when open on either a table or a music stand. Collected works, historical editions, and piano-vocal scores are often bound in this fashion, and some piano music, chamber music, and miniature scores of lengthy works are also available. Generally, however, music is published with a paper binding or in paper covers, thus requiring an additional cover or folder for library use. Regrettably, the expensive slipcases provided with some sets of chamber music parts must usually be discarded, either because the individual parts are thick enough to require their own covers which, once attached, cause the case to be too small, or because the case is incompatible with library charge-out systems.

Some trade bindings are seriously objectionable because they are not readily amenable to either in-house or commercial binding. Some paperbound volumes without signatures, for example, are of a height or thickness which cannot be accommodated by the equipment used for perfect-binding. If the volume has a spiral binding, not only will the pages be torn at the spine by the plastic or metal rings, but volumes adjacent on the shelf to the spiral will also be damaged and the fingers of patrons and shelvers will be lacerated. If the size of spiral-bound volumes permits them to be perfect-bound, the spine margin must still be large enough to be generously trimmed, for if the holes remain, the spine will be very weak. Since many spiral-bound volumes also have quite thin paper covers, if they cannot be rebound they are best avoided by librarians. Sometimes even clothbound volumes may prove unsatisfactory, because if they are perfect-bound with inferior glue or if the signatures are secured with staples, only rebinding will prevent the pages from rusting, tearing, or falling out.

Many contemporary works are notated in ways which do not conform to the standard formats with which musicians and librarians are familiar. Thus, the importance of clear performance directions and precise identification of each item in a container cannot be overemphasized.

257



Even music in traditional notation can be confusing if it arrives stacked or folded in an unusual way.

It is the library's obligation to provide and care for an inventory of music materials which may number in the thousands and even hundreds-of-thousands. Circulating as well as research collections must attempt to serve as permanent repositories of these documents, however disposable continued use may ultimately cause them to be. The financial and clerical aspects of such an enterprise are complex and require continual scrutiny. Insofar as the activities of the library also represent points of contact with the music trade, the availability of music, the time required to select new titles, the durability of the products in which the library invests its funds, and the cost of the item and of its physical preparation for library use are matters of concern. It is of importance to librarians not only to be well-informed about publishing practices but to view these practices in the context of a coordinated effort to provide music for a professional and lay public.

,Dwvene Twaowi, &f a

258



music publishing today-a symposium

Documents