Handel's music was a key source for Drury Lane entertainments from 1728 to 1745. Ballad-opera writers regularly deployed Handel tunes, generating multiple performances of his music in low-style, native works that long preceded his oratorios. The soprano Kitty Clive, the biggest star of this genre, initially performed Handel airs both in ballad operas and as additional songs. From 1737, Handel compositions helped bolster Clive's ‘high-style’ reputation, while Handel benefited from Clive's audience-drawing power. In its politics, narratives and musical forms, the design of music Handel composed for Clive shows him adhering closely to the soprano's already established star persona.

This article intervenes in debates on the status of ‘race’ in ethno/musicological writings. It does so through an examination of the compositional discourse of colonial black South African choral music, particularly detailed analyses of the work of John Knox Bokwe (1855–1922) and their metropolitan sources such as late nineteenth-century gospel hymnody, exploring both how Bokwe's compositional practice enacted a politics that became anticolonial and how early black choral music became ‘black’ in its receptions. The article concludes that ethno/musicological claims that colonial black choral music contains ‘African’ musical content conflate race and culture under a double imperative: in the names of a decolonizing politics and a postcolonial epistemology in which hybridity as resistance is racialized.

Orchestral colour can be read as an important part, both literally and metaphorically, of Theodor W. Adorno's approach to Mahler. Adorno's examples of ‘breakthrough’, ‘suspension’ and ‘fulfilment’ show that timbre, traditionally considered largely irrelevant to music's deep structure, plays a significant role in his conception of Mahlerian form. For Adorno, these musical relationships resonated strongly with his post-Second World War concern for the plight of the outsider within the homogenizing bounds of modern society.

Although it has long been known that Beethoven began composing a piano trio in F minor in 1816, scholarly examination of the extant sources for this unfinished project has only recently progressed beyond Nottebohm's brief remarks in the 1880s. The present article reveals the existence of numerous new sources evidently unknown to Nottebohm, including a leaf which forms the continuation of the draft score (Concept) of the first movement, the principal source for the trio. (Transcriptions of this score, including the new continuation, and of a newly identified draft which preceded it, accompany the article.) The trio project is contextualized in relation to other compositions, in particular the String Quartet in F minor, op. 95, the ‘Archduke’ Trio and the Piano Sonata in A, op. 101, and an attempt is made to understand the failure of the trio project in relation to Beethoven's limited compositional activity at this much-discussed point in his career.

Taking into account the sources now available at the Archivio Luigi Nono in Venice, this article first looks at Nono's serial masterpiece Il canto sospeso (1955–6) in its historical context, both in Germany and in Italy. Having outlined the political circumstances and aesthetic premisses, the article goes on to provide a detailed analysis of the serial technique employed. Particular attention is paid to a technique of pitch permutation that explains the pitch structures of several movements, hitherto not fully understood. Each of the nine movements is examined in view of a better understanding of the work's expressive qualities and in order to show the underlying formal and compositional relationships.

This article addresses a subject long overlooked by students and scholarship – the musical annual. Emerging in London in 1829, this was an enormously popular brand of commercial publication conventionally produced for holiday sales. One particular copy – given as a present to an 11-year-old girl that year – proves a useful starting point from which to interrogate these items as a whole. Several avenues of inquiry suggest themselves: ideas of gift exchange and commerce, histories of the role such music played in adolescent upbringing and pianism, accounts of period notions of ‘the fair sex’, and considerations of the relation between authenticity and deception in annual poetics. In the end, the author attempts to recuperate some enigma or aura for the musical score -not by appealing to some allusive or metaphysical ‘work-content’ immanent in the text, but by exploring the sense in which these volumes were and are souvenirs – perhaps remote from traditional intellectual concerns, but redolent of a bygone and elusive ‘social life’.

This article focuses on the prominent anxieties generated by television broadcasts of musicians from the 1930s onwards. It explores three specific issues: first, a concern that television images of performing musicians are detrimental to the experience of music; second, negative judgments about the consequences of television sound quality; and, third, fears that musical value is undermined by the distracted character of television reception. Focusing on these particular points, the article also raises a series of more profound questions about how various strategies of looking and listening influence our understanding of music.