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Sources
Of course a lot of the material presented below is
available in one form or another on the web, but I was
also fortunate to be able to call on the extensive
knowledge and library of my early-music advisor (and
sister-in-law) Hilary Ougham.
I should add that the views expressed here are not
necessarily hers and that anything really ludicrous (and
some of what follows I now know to be questionable if
not downright wrong) is
certainly the result of misunderstanding or unfounded
speculation on my part.
Primary publications consulted were: R H Hoppin (1978)
Medieval Music. NY: Norton; T Knighton, D Fallows
(eds, 2003) Companion to Medieval and Renaissance
Music. OUP; G Reese (1978) Music in the
Renaissance. London: Dent.
Organum
and before
There
was surely music, of some sophistication, in and before
the
Roman and Hellenic eras, but European culture
(including music) had almost to start from scratch in
the period following the fall of Rome.
During
the first millennium AD, the music we know of was
dominated by the voice and subservient to the liturgy.
The single unaccompanied vocal line - plainchant,
plainsong, Gregorian chant, liturgical monophony - dates
from about the 4th century.
The
first polyphonic development out of unison chanting,
sometimes just a drone plus melody, is called organum.
The term was introduced by Hucbald (840-c 930) and
Regino of Prüm (?-915) in a treatise entitled De
Harmonica Institutione.
Musical
examples are given in Musica Enchiriadis (Music
Manual) and Scholia Enchiriadis (Commentary on
the Manual), attributed to Hucbald.
Drones with melodic lines on top may have special
significance for the development of jazz practices - see
below. It's interesting that medieval music seems
to lack any kind of bass function. Often the
lowest part is only baritone range, or even tenor.
Could this be because people were much smaller then and
couldn't have produced low notes even if they wanted to?
The
appearance of polyphony
The
collection known as Winchester Tropers (c 980) is
the oldest surviving practical example of polyphony and
comprises organum, tropes (new texts and/or notes
added to existing music) and sequences (chants
performed during the Mass).
Out of
drone plus melody came parallel organum
(polyphony, heterophony). Examples in the
Enchiriadis show lines at the octave and 5th. There
are some examples of lines a 4th below, but the danger
of the forbidden tritone was a limitation on its use.
Next
came free (or modified parallel) organum and melismatic
organum.
Melisma
refers to the singing of several to many notes on a
single syllable. The term florid organum is
sometimes used. It is particularly associated with the
School of (St Martial at) Limoges.
Melisma is not common in modern songwriting and, within
the American standard cannon, would probably be regarded
as poor craftsmanship except where a particular comic or
other effect is aimed at (for example "When I'm calling
you-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo..." by Friml, Hammerstein, Harbach
and Stothart, 1936). Melisma is, of course, common in,
and characteristic of, vocal performance in the folk,
blues and soul traditions.
Organum
becomes more complex
By the
12th century, discant style was being used -
syllabic text settings in note-against-note polyphony.
Santiago
de Compostela was a centre for this style. A
significant source is the manuscript called the Codex
Calixtinus dated around 1140 (Pope Calixtine II died
in 1124). The main entrance of the Cathedral at
Santiago de Compostela (Puerta or Portica de
la gloria, sculpted by Master Mateo (1161-1217)
between 1166 and 1188) shows figures in relief engaged
in music-making, including two elders playing the
hurdy-gurdy.
The hurdy-gurdy would establish a drone over which the
polyphonic line would be sung. We speculate that this
contrast between relative harmonic (vertical) stasis and
horizontal (melodic) motion might say something about
musical development in jazz.
The
major centre of organum in the 12th century was Notre
Dame de Paris (rebuilt by Bishop Sully (1163-1200),
consecrated 1182). The composers most closely
identified with the Notre Dame style were Perotin and
Leonin.
Perotin
employed more complex organum triplum and quadruplum
forms, but there was still heavy reliance on perfect
consonances (unison, fourths, fifths and octaves).
Melismatic organum was succeeded by modal notation, to
be replaced in the mid to
late 13th century by mensural notation
(Franco of Cologne (1260) Ars Cantus Mensurabilis).
From
organum to Ars Nova
Multi-voice organum was succeeded by so-called
conductus, processional non-liturgical compositions,
and by the motet, conductus with new words added
to upper parts.
With the
arrival of the madrigal, we reach the era of
Ars Nova. This dates from about 1313 in Italy and
1320 in France.
Key
figures were Philippe de Vitry, Johannes de Muris and,
particularly, Guillaume de Machaut (c 1300 - c 1377).
As the
14th century proceeded, the influence of Notre Dame
organum lapsed, to be supplanted by the Mass (de Machaut
was composer of one of the earliest examples, some time
before 1365, the four-voice Messe de Nostre Dame).
de Machaut's music seems pretty far out, even to a jazz
musician. To me it sounds halfway between modal
polyphony and true cadential progression. As I write
this I'm listening to a performance of
4 of his
ballades and fascinated by the way intertwining
lines hit on odd oblique chords, sometimes at points of
repose, finally resolving on plain root-fifth just when
it seems the harmonies are out of control. It reminds
me of orchestrations by Charles Mingus or Duke Ellington
at their most eccentric.
The
secular traditions
The
troubadours, composers and performers of songs, began to
flourish during the 11th century and the style was still
being imitated in the 13th. Troubadour songs deal mainly
with secular themes of chivalry and courtly love.
Other
similar performers in the same period went by the names
of wandering scholars, goliards, jongleurs or
Minnesingers.
Records
of troubadour songs are limited - it's estimated that
fewer than 300 out of 2500 melodies survive. Troubadour
songs were usually monophonic and often followed broad
rules, such as those set out in Leys d'amors
(compiled in 1340).
Cambridge Songs
is an 11th Century manuscript illustrative of the
tradition. Carmina Burana comprises songs from
the late 13th century and earlier.
It is
assumed that these songs were performed with
instrumental accompaniment, but musical sources
record only the voice part and so the nature of the
instruments used and what they played represent a
vanished culture.
Knighton
and Fallows (2005) in their Companion to Medieval and
Renaissance Music state: "The dearth of manuscript
evidence for instrumental music in the Middle Ages is
both astonishing and mysterious"
These
authors also present a particularly pertinent quote from
the lutenist Crawford Young: "To what extent is
pre-Baroque notation unlike its modern counterpart? It
was often used to preserve a generic version of a piece
of music - similar perhaps to a jazz musician's 'fake
book'" [my italics]
The
beginnings of harmony
In
considering what form instrumental accompaniment might
have taken in the Middle Ages, Knighton and Fallows
(2005) suggest that "drones - sustained notes in the
manner of melismatic organum - are (still another)
possibility".
The
general view is that pedals and drones stand at the
origin of the conception of harmony.
Until
the 10th century, harmony meant parallel organum, based
on the octave, 5th and 4th.
From the
late 10th century "imperfect" intervals (3rds, 6ths)
began to appear, and by the 12th century there was
increasing freedom in the form of passing notes.
These
trends continued and expanded up to the early 15th
century (John Dunstable (d 1455) a significant figure at
this time).
By the
late 16th century, the era of madrigals (Giovanni
Palestrina (1525-1594) a key figure), there was free
movement of parts, polyphony and recognisable key
signatures, although there remained a lot of wandering
indeterminate tonality and use of modes.
The
earliest instances of continuo and figured
bass date from the late 16th century and they had
become well established by the time of JS Bach
(1685-1750).
Finally the
principles of harmony (including inversions) in the recognised modern sense became formalised in
Traité de l'Harmonie réduite à ses principes naturels
(1726) by Jean Philippe Rameau (1683-1764).
Figured bass is a very neat way of notating inversions.
For example in the root position of the C major triad, C
to E is a third and C to G is a fifth, so it is
represented in figured bass as 53.
The first inversion becomes 63 and
the second 64 (work it out).
Figured bass and continuo clearly functioned somewhat
like chord progressions and the rhythm section in jazz,
though jazz chord symbol notation is probably more
limited than figured bass in conveying information about
voicings and harmonic movement.
The Cecilian
Movement and similar
Periodically the urge to return to simpler (which often
means earlier) times and styles wells up in culture,
and music is no different.
The Cecilian Movement
(named for St Cecilia, patron saint of music) in the 19th century wanted to
reclaim liturgical music from the operatic and
re-establish the pre-Baroque principles of organum, non-cadential
harmony and minimal instrumentation.
Some composers of the Wagnerian era were responsive,
notably Bruckner whose Os Justi - Gradual for 8-part
Choir would not have been out of place in the Notre
Dame of 600 years previously.
Another example of the recursive principle in musical
history is Stravinsky's engagement with Neoclassicism in
the years after World War I - described as the
repentance of a modernist sinner who returned to the
formalities of the 18th Century.
Neoclassicism endures to the present day, in the shape
of composers like Arvo Pärt
and John Tavener.
Jazz has its own neoclassical movement, led by Wynton
Marsalis at the Lincoln Center in New York. Some
find its reverence for the "classical" era and
performers and its treatment of 1965 onward as
a barren period of jazz history as unnecessarily
regressive and reactionary. Others believe it has
saved jazz from disappearing without trace into the black
holes of fusion and free music.
Jazz is an awfully young musical
form to have already spawned a neoclassical movement,
but in fact it has long been riven by tribal disputes,
notably between the reverential re-creators (for example
the Ken Colyer-type revivalists) and the
boundary-pushers (Ornette Coleman, to name someone
guaranteed to raise neoclassical bloodpressures).
But somewhere in this confused picture comes a creation
like Kind of Blue which simultaneously
revolutionises the whole direction of the music and
conceptually seems to link to a tradition that does not
just pre-date jazz but belongs somewhere on the medieval
side of the Baroque. Its non-cadential harmonies,
sustained drone-like atmospheres and modal structures
are almost Cecilian. Maybe its link to the infancy
of Western musical evolution explains why Kind of
Blue is a widely-used source for elementary jazz
education. |