664, once proved the worst I heard in any covered building.)
The exception at the Festival was the rather bad playing, at that last recital, of Godfrey Sceats, who, fluent in German, was, by correspondence, Karg-Elert’s closest English friend, but also the only non-full-time musician among the players. He may have been unwell, but, having a full-time job in the City, he seemed to have practised less than the others, for his was the least well-prepared recital. Karg-Elert, who always sat at the back, did not conceal his displeasure at Sceats’s playing and his groans could be heard all over the church. I remember F Darwin Fox (who had sung the plainsong before Cathedral Windows, played by Nicholas Choveaux the previous Tuesday), telling me how they spirited Karg-Elert out of the church, and pacified him with “a pink drink at the Lyons tea-shop around the corner in Gresham Street.” Happily, all was sweetness and light at the end of the recital. I remember that William Wolstenholme was among those present. Both composers were persuaded to improvise. I have retained an indelible impression of Wolstenholme’s impeccably neat treatment of a theme proposed to him by Karg-Elert, and of Karg-Elert’s own wild splashing around at the organ after him. I have since been reminded that he ended his improvisation with a
fixed high inverted pedal point, beneath which a massive juicily harmonised chorale unfolded.
No-one who heard Karg-Elert play on that occasion could have been under any illusion that he might ever sustain a recital tour in America. It was folly to expect it. England did the right thing by inviting him to London as an honoured composer, not as a performer. Karg-Elert’s London visit inspired him to write more organ music, for which we may be thankful.