For Karg-Elert’s composing outlets had taken other directions. The Great War marked a definite watershed in his career. The first fruits of his new interest in writing for wind – in particular sonatas and studies for flute and clarinet – were all published by the firm of Zimmermann. This admirable Frankfurt firm is one of the few to have kept faith with Karg-Elert, and virtually all the titles they ever published of his remain in print. They have also earned the gratitude of scholars by issuing a few years ago Sonia Gerlach’s definitive Catalogue of his music.

Meanwhile in 1919 Karg-Elert had taken up the position of Professor of Composition at the Leipzig Conservatoire (in succession to Reger). This prestigious appointment, together with a Festival of his music at his birthplace Oberndorf the following year, brought his music to a wider public. By now a bewildering variety of firms were publishing his music. The celebrated Leipzig firm of Peters had begun during the War with his Easy Pedal Studies (opus 83/1916), to which they later added significant works such as the harmonium collection Portraits (opus 101/1924) and the Partita for Piano (opus 113/1927). Simrock published his 3rd Piano Sonata (opus 105/1922) and smaller pieces, while Steingräber published 30 Caprices for Flute (opus 107/1925).

In some ways, however, this fame was to prove dangerously fragile. The financial disasters that hit Germany over this period (the hyper-inflation of 1922-4, the Great Depression of 1929 on) had their repercussions. Carl Simon’s firm folded up and was taken over by Breitkopf & Härtel. Sadly, Germany’s most prestigious publishers had had few previous dealings with Karg-Elert (only the beautiful Passionkanzone (opus 84/1915)), and slowly they let almost all the Simon catalogue (which had always contained most of his best works) go out of print. Peters bought his Organ Symphony (opus 143) in 1931, but would not publish it. As Karg-Elert wrote to Godfrey Sceats in March 1931, “Publishers are unable to purchase anything, for they sell nothing.” To which he added two months later, “All the publishers are at the end of their resources.” Other more malign influences were also at work. As early as 1926 he had written to Sceats, “It would seem that I am not German enough.” Rumours were put about that he was partly of Jewish extraction. Well before his death in 1933 he was a prophet without honour in his own country.

In Karg-Elert’s last years recognition came mainly from abroad. Despite the memories of the Great War, his reputation grew in the 1920s in the English-speaking world. In England other firms had followed Novello’s lead: Augener’s had published the 3 Pastels (opus 92) as long ago as 1911, Elkin issued Cathedral Windows (opus 106) in 1923, while Novello’s eventually published Homage to Handel in 1922 and the Seven Pastels from Lake Constance (opus 96) in 1923. It is astonishing to realise that these highly idiomatic pieces were written in the middle of the ten year period in which he did not once touch the organ. In 1927 he was persuaded back to the instrument by hearing a blind student playing his In dulci jubilo (opus 75) with evident enjoyment. The Partita in E (opus 100) was published in 1928 by Novello’s and for a while plans bubbled for much more – a Symphony in E, 50 Preludes on English Hymns and so on. The groundswell of English interest led to Karg-Elert’s visit in May 1930. That in its turn led first to his ‘thank you’ to his three hosts over here, the Triptych (opus 141), published by Elkin, and later to Kaleidoscope (opus 144) and Music for Organ (opus 145), both issued by OUP, not to mention the little collection for Sunday organists, Sempre Semplice (opus 142/1931) consisting of arrangements of earlier harmonium pieces, issued by Paxton.

In North America likewise, it was the build-up to a quite remarkable level of interest that prompted the ultimately ill-fated tour of 1932. The Boston firm of A P Schmidt had published his 3 Impressions (opus 108) as far back as 1925, and they now contracted to publish pieces that he brought over with him. The failure of the tour and Karg-Elert’s death not long afterwards left these arrangements in an unsatisfactory state, though Paxton’s (Schmidt’s English agents) did publish the Cycle of 8 Short Pieces (opus 151/1931). Worst of all perhaps, Hinrichsen issued in 1938, Johannes Piersig’s now discredited edition of his last masterpiece, the Passacaglia and Fugue on BACH (opus 150). With this publication came the end of Karg-Elert’s publishing history ‘first time round’.