Conrad von Zabern: De modo bene cantandi (Mainz, 1474)
1. Sing with refinement and without coarseness
2. Avoid articulating each note of a melisma with an "h"
3. Don't sing through the nose
4. Enunciate clearly and sing the correct vowel sounds
5. Sing intervals in tune
6. Don't force the tone: sing with sweetness
7. Sing low notes resonantly, middle ones moderately, high ones delicately
8. Don't sing sleepily and lifelessly, but with virility and affekt
9. Stand up straight: don't sway, don't hold your head too high or to one
side, don't gape
Giovanni de' Bardi: Discorso mandato a Caccini sopra la musica antica e 'l
cantar bene (c.1578)
1. Enter softly after a rest
2. When singing alone to an accompaniment, you may contract or expand the
time at will
3. Tune each tone and semitone properly
4. Connect the notes exactly
5. Give a piece its proper and exact expression
6. Sing with suavity and sweetness
7. Stand in a suitable posture
Georg Quitschreiber: De canendi elegantia (Jena, 1598)
1. Choose good voices (treble tender and sonorous, bass harsher and richer,
medius even and fitting well with the others [cf 12 below])
2. It's best to sing with vibrato ("Tremula voce optime canitur" - that's
all he says on the subject)
3. Don't sing too loudly, but sweetly like maidens
4. Sing with an even volume: a little more softly as the notes rise, more
loudly as they fall; and don't make a diminuendo at the end.
5. Check your intonation against the "monochordum"
6. Swift notes should be articulated with chest and throat, not tongue or
lips: shape them in the throat so that the rising and falling of these
little notes is imperceptible [cf. von Zabern's rule #2?)
7. Think what the words mean and match your tone and style to them
8. Pronounce the vowels properly (and prefer "i" and "e" for roulades over
"a", "o" and "u")
9. Bring out points of imitation
10. Don't hurry
11. Keep time, but slow down if the sense requires it
12. Let the bass and treble be louder than the other parts
13. Sing the penultimate note of a piece gravely and with a pause
14. End the final note when the conductor bids you to (but it will sound
best if the bass hangs on for a couple of extra beats)
There are a number of recurring themes here, but not one word about tone
production (muscle control, resonance, that sort of thing). Does anyone know
of any such advice? Is it fair to say that "trained" voices in the sense we
understand the term today didn't exist in the middle ages and renaissance?
When did the necessary anatomical awareness arise?
Maybe instrumental tutors can shed some light on breath control? Beth's
quote from _Harmonie Universelle_ (that ornamentations should be made only
with the throat and never sound as if they are drawn "from the stomach") is
tantalising.
Jason
This author still has something of a medieval mindset, but is
writing in a locale rather distant from the main productions of
medieval polyphony. I wonder if his apparent dislike of nasalized
tone is a jab at the French. Certainly the German melodies are
very different.
>7. Sing low notes resonantly, middle ones moderately, high ones
>delicately
The great Carnatic singer Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar described
proper tone production as resembling a pyramid in effect, resonant
at the bottom and almost piercing at the top.
The other authors are clearly into a madrigalian mindset, and have
little relevance for medieval music (not that they aren't interesting
for other things).
>not one word about tone production (muscle control, resonance,
>that sort of thing)
Well, see #7 there.
>Is it fair to say that "trained" voices in the sense we understand
>the term today didn't exist in the middle ages and renaissance?
This is one of Potter's major theses. The other is that voices
sounded different in different places.
>When did the necessary anatomical awareness arise?
In prehistoric times, I imagine. You seem to suggest that earlier
musicians would have liked the "trained" sound. If you think about
it, writing about how to sing seems kind of silly.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Well, I doubt the apes have much to tell us, but I do think that
they knew fully well how to use their bodies in the ways they wanted
to use them, and I think that's an important point. We are the
ones who tend to be out of touch with how to use our bodies.
Why would a person write about how to sing? What would motivate
such a thing?
>this assumes that medieval/renaissance concepts of a "good voice"
>were similar to ours
I sincerely doubt they were, at least for medieval singers. For
the later 16th century, perhaps they were closer. For that matter,
I doubt my idea of a good voice is much like "ours."
>I don't think that von Zabern was using the word "resonant" with
>the same technical import that a modern singer uses it.
You may be right about that. His description sounded a great deal
like the way Indian singers use the term.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Come to think of it, I suppose that large apes using their body cavities to
the maximum efficiency when communicating across tracts of jungle have
something to tell us on the subject!
> You seem to suggest that earlier musicians would have liked the "trained"
sound.
Sorry, that wasn't my intention. It would be rather like the "Bach would
have loved a swell box on his organ" argument. I'm inclined to suppose that
earlier musicians would have preferred singers who were lucky enough to
produce good resonance and tone naturally - but this assumes that
medieval/renaissance concepts of a "good voice" were similar to ours, which
is a bit rash without a lot of supporting evidence.
I don't think that von Zabern was using the word "resonant" with the same
technical import that a modern singer uses it. What he is recommending is
the same as Quitschreiber: a uniform volume throughout the voice's compass.
The singer was expected to compensate for the decreasing volume in the lower
register - though *exactly* how, of course, neither writer says.
Regards,
Jason
> There are a number of recurring themes here, but not one word about tone
> production (muscle control, resonance, that sort of thing). Does anyone know
> of any such advice? Is it fair to say that "trained" voices in the sense we
> understand the term today didn't exist in the middle ages and renaissance?
> When did the necessary anatomical awareness arise?
>
> Maybe instrumental tutors can shed some light on breath control? Beth's
> quote from _Harmonie Universelle_ (that ornamentations should be made only
> with the throat and never sound as if they are drawn "from the stomach") is
> tantalising.
It should be remembered that the Church was so inhospitable to study of anatomy
that it was not until Galen, (who lived about the same time as the individuals
Jason cites) that it was even accepted that men and women had the same number
pairs of ribs (Official church teaching before the mid-sixteenth century was
that men had one fewer pair of ribs than women). Knowledge of the anatomy and
physiology of the production of sound, and control of breathing was not to come
for another 150-200 years at the time of the authors Jason cites.
ns
Do you mean Vesalius, (1514-64)? Galen was Greek and c 130 - 201 CE.
--
Ken Moore
k...@hpsl.demon.co.uk
Web site: http://www.hpsl.demon.co.uk/
That was exactly what I meant; but, as you imply, it's something that fell
into disuse - along with our tail.
> Why would a person write about how to sing? What would motivate
> such a thing?
Come on, there must be hundreds of books on singing technique, all aimed at
getting people to produce what the author considers a nice sound. Of course
this supposes a technique to write about. If singers weren't aware of the
physiology involved, they could hardly write about it. It was the lack of
such advice that made me suspect that early singing must have used an
entirely instinctive vocal production. Noel's interesting and helpful reply
confirms that this must have been the case.
> >this assumes that medieval/renaissance concepts of a "good voice"
> >were similar to ours
>
> I sincerely doubt they were, at least for medieval singers. For
> the later 16th century, perhaps they were closer. For that matter,
> I doubt my idea of a good voice is much like "ours."
>
> >I don't think that von Zabern was using the word "resonant" with
> >the same technical import that a modern singer uses it.
>
Ken Moore wrote:
> In article <FB6385E287CEB90A.482D5003...@lp.airnew
> s.net>, Noel Stoutenburg <mjo...@ticnet.com> writes
> >It should be remembered that the Church was so inhospitable to study of anatomy
> >that it was not until Galen, ...<snip>...
>
> Do you mean Vesalius, (1514-64)? Galen was Greek and c 130 - 201 CE.
Yes, I did mean Vesalius.
ns.
If we include mimicking others, and actual physical demonstrations,
then I can agree. Sure, there are lots of things *now* written
about how to sing, but people will write anything now. Something
so amenable to physical demonstration is just not a very good
candidate for writing, and that this writing doesn't exist suggests
little to me. But, yes, I certainly agree that medieval singers
did not have "trained" voices in the sense we currently use the
term.
I guess saying "Why would people write about that?" is not a very
satisfying answer, but I do continue to think it is quite indicative.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Of course. It's just that this filters through into people's,
including performers', concrete thinking less often than one might
imagine. There's a tendency to paint all of "early music" with a
broad brush when it comes to vocal technique, and of course the
technique we know something about is that of Handel et al.
>But I feel something must be said that ornamentation and 'accented'
>singing must be indicative of some kind of mastery involved, rather
>than just naturally occurring singing. Take Monteverdi's 'Possente
>Spirito'
Monteverdi (and slightly earlier Florentine Camerata composers,
for instance) emphasized "virtuoso" singing and wanted to take
advantage of that directly in their compositions. Besides a growing
emphasis on rhetoric, this is one of the traits characterizing the
shift to Baroque style.
Anyway, Marcel Peres among others argues quite convincingly (IMO)
that on at least certain occasions, medieval music was ornamented.
However, as noted in an earlier post, exactly how it was ornamented
is a very open question, with few exceptions.
The issue regarding "training" isn't about talent or virtuosity
per se. After all, soloists tended to be soloists for a reason,
and the medieval era had soloists. When one talks about "training"
in the sense of the modern voice, that means breath support, tone
production, sonority, etc. That's the aspect which doesn't transfer
well to earlier music. Again, see Potter's book. The upshot of
this may be that "virtuoso ornamentation" varied quite a bit
depending on who specifically was singing it.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Hello,
That seems pretty self-explanatory--after 600 years or so of changing
trends, one can only expect the concept of 'training' to vary as well.
But I feel something must be said (albeit this concerns Renaissance
music moreso than medieval) that ornamentation and 'accented' singing
must be indicative of some kind of mastery involved, rather than just
naturally occurring singing. Take Monteverdi's 'Possente Spirito'
(again, out of chronological order, I realize, but I can't think of an
earlier written example)--it obviously requires a great deal of talent
and training to perform. Is there not earlier examples of such a thing?
If not, I recoil, but I'm certain this sort of ornamentation occurred
far before Monteverdi's time.
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
Jason Smart wrote, in part:
...<snip>...
> There are a number of recurring themes here, but not one word about tone
> production (muscle control, resonance, that sort of thing). Does anyone know
> of any such advice? Is it fair to say that "trained" voices in the sense we
> understand the term today didn't exist in the middle ages and renaissance?
> When did the necessary anatomical awareness arise?
and, having had the opportunity for further reflection on the matter, I would
have to opine that there were trained voices, to be sure. Knowing how to apply
whatever ornaments were commonly practiced at whatever period, learning vocal
lines, learning the rules for applying music ficta, and other little documented
conventions, all required training, but the training would have been largely
empirical, the items quoted from Von Zabern, de' Baldi, and Quitschriber may
have been about the best one could hope for when one considers that the trainer
was faced with (at least) three hurdles which need not face contemporary music
educators, however.
1) As already mentioned, a lack of knowledge of the details of anatomy and
physiology of the production of sound by the human voice.
2) The amount of variance between individuals; this was emphasized for me last
evening in choir practice, when the conductor told an entire section to make a
sound in a certain manner, and then told a single individual to disregard what
he told the section, and to make the sound in a somewhat different manner, to
achieve the same tone he was looking for.
3) The ephemeral quality of sound. The music educators of the XVIth century
could not send the student to a practice room with a tape, and instructions to
practice until the sound obtained was "just like that on the tape". The three
individuals quoted did about as good a job as one could hope for in describing
tone, given the limits within which they worked.
ns
> Hello,
> That seems pretty self-explanatory--after 600 years or so of changing
> trends, one can only expect the concept of 'training' to vary as well.
> But I feel something must be said (albeit this concerns Renaissance
> music moreso than medieval) that ornamentation and 'accented' singing
> must be indicative of some kind of mastery involved, rather than just
> naturally occurring singing. Take Monteverdi's 'Possente Spirito'
> (again, out of chronological order, I realize, but I can't think of an
> earlier written example)--it obviously requires a great deal of talent
> and training to perform. Is there not earlier examples of such a thing?
There are scads of them, as a matter of fact, from St. Martial-style
organum to Leonin and Perotin to Ars Nova and Ars Subtilior. The earliest
example that springs to my mind of ornamentation similar to that of
Possente Spirto is "Dalle piu alte sfere" from one of the 1589 Intermedii,
by Archilei, but that's only because I'm using a non-PPP connection to log
on and therefore can't at the same time access the IU card catalogue
database.
Perhaps a better indication of the state of vocality in any given place is
to ask whether there were people who made their living solely by singing,
and for how long. Settimia Caccini, for example, must have had pretty
good vocal technique even by our standards, because she kept singing into
her seventies.
Beth
--
"Under the green wood tree/Who loves to lie with me/And tune his merry
note/Unto the sweet bird's throat/Come hither, come hither, come hither/
Here he shall see/No enemy/But winter and rough weather."
--William Shakespeare
Dufay's "Resvelliés vous" springs to mind. But I could conceive being able
to acquire agility of articulation, ornamentation and diction entirely by
myself through sheer hard practice and self criticism without ever having a
singing lesson. When I framed my original question I ought to have
anticipated the different ways in which it might be read, but, as Todd
realised, it was really about the ways in which singers are taught to
combine breathing, muscular control and resonance to effect a desired tone
quality. I'm quite sure I could never develop a voice like a Romantic opera
singer without having these techniques explained to me very carefully and
with ongoing coaching. I still don't know whether I've put this clearly: I'd
find it easier if I were a singer.
Jason
I don't mean to suggest this, but I do mean to question where
writing should/did enter this equation. I don't mean entirely by
yourself, but through observing the people around you and their
*physical feedback* directed at you. Whether I know what my
diaphragm is or isn't, I can still show you how my abdominal muscles
move. I can show you a lot easier than tell you... or at least
that's my own predilection.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
I understand what you mean, but I'd want to see some independent
corroboration that this sort of feedback took place (for example, in some
passing light-shedding on people/society by a non-musical writer) before I
could accept that diaphragmatic breath control was practised at this time. A
complete lack of data about something does at least give us a mandate to
conclude that that thing was not known or was not an issue. Although
subsequent discoveries may prove us wrong, it's still safer than
constructing an argument from a lack of evidence.
A mandate, no. Cause for extreme caution, yes. Writers write for
reasons, and omniscience is not one of them. If none of the handful
of writers knew much about something, or how to describe it, well,
it's not going to be written about. Identifying those things
written down with what was known is an extremely perilous idea,
and one with which I don't agree, not even for things today. I
keep asking why pre-modern authors would write about tone production,
because I don't see an answer.
I certainly agree that making any actual conclusions based on
nothing but speculation is unwarranted. For that matter, I do not
believe that modern approaches to breath support were used, mainly
because I do not think they suit the music.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Or, put another way, it seems that you want to use lack of evidence
to draw a specific conclusion. I advise using lack of evidence to
draw no conclusion. I have offered some alternate possibilities
as reasons not to draw a conclusion.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
I don't agree. They can describe what is known. They can discuss
the possible things that might be implied. They can refrain from
drawing conclusions when they don't need to draw conclusions.
There's still plenty to be said. There's a huge amount to be said
that doesn't mandate drawing particular conclusions on scant facts,
even if one discusses them in depth. Discussing them is, of course,
welcome.
>Most of the time you have to call it a day
That is true, but expanding on "no information" is about as perilous
as it gets. In particular, the issue of vocal tone in this music
is extremely provisionary, and I want to emphasize that it is
provisionary. I'm hopeful some ideas will "settle in" so to speak,
as they get cross-checked against the broader complex of known
facts, including performance experiments. I don't want to rush
that process.
>When you said in your previous post that you do not believe that
>modern approaches to breath support were used, mainly because you
>do not think they suit the music, you mean "my [or our] view of
>the music".
You are right. That's a statement of a different kind. I tried to
separate it into its own paragraph.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
That's a fair comment, certainly. I only mean that I started with
factual/cautionary comments and then proceeded to editorializing.
I try to keep those things separate in both mind and expression,
although maybe not as separate as they could be.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
> >A mandate, no. Cause for extreme caution, yes.
>
> Or, put another way, it seems that you want to use lack of evidence
> to draw a specific conclusion.
Sometimes I am prepared to do that, yes, though not without acknowledging
the provisional nature of such conclusions.
> I advise using lack of evidence to
> draw no conclusion.
That's safe. But if musicologists and historians stuck entirely to what can
be conclusively proved they'd end up saying rather little. How do we know x
did y? Because there's a document which says so. How do we know the document
is reliable? Because it's in the hand of z. How do we know z is reliable?
Because he always appears reliable in other contexts. How do we know that
this isn't an exception? Er . . . . If you carry on questioning for long
enough you can almost always end up going round in circles. Most of the time
you have to call it a day somewhere and proceed on the basis of what is
beyond reasonable doubt.
When you said in your previous post that you do not believe that modern
approaches to breath support were used, mainly because you do not think they
suit the music, you mean "my [or our] view of the music". That view may be
right or wrong. It's fair enough to use it to justify a preferred approach,
but I'd think twice before I used it as the foundation for a statement about
historical practice - which is what you seem to have done.
Agreed. In concluding that early singers weren't trained in breath control
techniques I would say that I was taking the lack of information at face
value rather than expanding on it.
> In particular, the issue of vocal tone in this music
> is extremely provisionary, and I want to emphasize that it is
> provisionary. I'm hopeful some ideas will "settle in" so to speak,
> as they get cross-checked against the broader complex of known
> facts, including performance experiments. I don't want to rush
> that process.
Sure thing.
> >When you said in your previous post that you do not believe that
> >modern approaches to breath support were used, mainly because you
> >do not think they suit the music, you mean "my [or our] view of
> >the music".
> You are right. That's a statement of a different kind. I tried to
> separate it into its own paragraph.
Was it different? It sounds like an example of what I meant by calling it a
In which case, have you read Potter's book, and what is your take on it?
--
Peter Wilton
The Gregorian Association Web Page:
http://www.beaufort.demon.co.uk
: There are scads of them, as a matter of fact, from St. Martial-style
: organum to Leonin and Perotin to Ars Nova and Ars Subtilior. The earliest
: example that springs to my mind of ornamentation similar to that of
: Possente Spirto is "Dalle piu alte sfere" from one of the 1589 Intermedii,
: by Archilei, but that's only because I'm using a non-PPP connection to log
: on and therefore can't at the same time access the IU card catalogue
: database.
Hello, there, and I might mention, for example, the description by
Johannes de Garlandia (c. 1240?) of various forms of _color_ or
ornamentation, including vocal elaborations as well as formal devices (to
use the adjective "formal" in an Elizabethan sense) such as voice
exchange or repetition.
The famous passage in the opening portion of Leonin's _Viderunt omnes_
where we have _currentes_ or "running notes" descending through an
eleventh is one memorable example.
As for the Ars subtilior, we have a piece by Hasprois (or Haspre) called
_Ma doulce amour_ which features various ornamented passages. Willi Apel,
while by no means the last word in this area, early pointed out that the
notation may reflect performance practices in such idioms as "written-out
rubato."
It would seem that ornamentation around Josquin's era was sometimes not
only done but overdone, as in the anecdotes which speaks of Josquin's
reaction to such a license -- let such singers write their own
compositions if they like this sort of thing!
The era of around 1589 brings to mind the Three Ladies of Ferrara, one of
whom, Tarquinia Molza, I have heard may have also composed.
One theory has it that composers such as Maddalena Casulana may have found
the role of singer and lutenist an opportunity to move into the art of
composition.
Maybe one question this thread raises: what does "training" mean? It seems
to me that in the era of Leonin, or Solage, or Casulana, there was indeed
a "craft" to be learned -- but not necessarily the same craft as
19th-century operatic singing.
With Todd, if I'm getting his nuances correctly, I would add that what
gets written down may reflect accidents of time, place, and maybe the pet
peeves of a given writer, who might consider most notable the _violations_
of what s/he considers "good taste in singing" rather than the expected
practice.
Most appreciatively,
Margo Schulter
msch...@value.net
> A mandate, no. Cause for extreme caution, yes. Writers write for
> reasons, and omniscience is not one of them. If none of the handful
> of writers knew much about something, or how to describe it, well,
> it's not going to be written about. Identifying those things
> written down with what was known is an extremely perilous idea,
> and one with which I don't agree, not even for things today. I
> keep asking why pre-modern authors would write about tone production,
> because I don't see an answer.
Especiallly, the thing that I think Todd is assuming that we all remember
is that before the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth
century,* literacy was not all that common, so there must have been scads
of knowledge that never got written down because
1) The people who possessed it were illiterate and the people they
intended to teach that knowledge were also illiterate, so they would
figure on teaching it orally.
and
2) It was of no interest to that small portion of society that _was_
literate, who were mostly religious types.**
Given that quote from Boethius that people keep quoting, I think that 2)
probably applies pretty well to the question of the proper manner of
singing.
Beth
*The tune that we know as "Hark, the Herald Angel sings" was originally
written as an ode to Guttenberg to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the
printing press.
**As shown by the fact that we use the term "clerical" to apply both to
office workers and priests (i.e. clergymen).
The only thing is: I'm having difficulty envisaging how Quitshreiber's
vibrato could have been accomplished in the absence of such a technique.
Jason
"Beth Diane Garfinkel" <bgar...@steel.ucs.indiana.edu> wrote in message
news:8rlp08$5v0$1...@flotsam.uits.indiana.edu...
By "technique" I mean control of muscles/breathing/resonance.
M. Schulter <msch...@value.net> wrote:
> One theory has it that composers such as Maddalena Casulana may have found
> the role of singer and lutenist an opportunity to move into the art of
> composition.
I think it's fair to say that Renaissance composition is more of a craft
than an art. I once read a (to me) rather naive statement expressing
surprise that more masses got composed after the Council of Trent than
before. Of course more got composed afterward; it takes much less time
and effort to write a mass when you're not having to worry about imitation
all the time.
> Maybe one question this thread raises: what does "training" mean? It seems
> to me that in the era of Leonin, or Solage, or Casulana, there was indeed
> a "craft" to be learned -- but not necessarily the same craft as
> 19th-century operatic singing.
Probably much less counter-intuitive, for one thing. For example, the
classic dropped-larynx position for opera singing didn't really take hold
in Europe until the early-to-mid 19th century.
Beth
I don't know about that, but we do get to see in print a much wider
array of musical activity. Instead of just the very best and
creative music (which still existed in the 16th century, even if
it's less to my taste than earlier music), we can find second- and
third-tier works, transcriptions, even some folk settings. So by
percentage of things we can see today, I think you're right, but
I don't think the production of "art" really slowed down. Your
Council of Trent remark is a good one, i.e. there was more simpler
stuff left for us.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Jason Smart wrote:
> > The only thing is: I'm having difficulty envisaging how Quitshreiber's
> > vibrato could have been accomplished in the absence of such a technique.
> >
and then, to clarify, wrote further,
> By "technique" I mean control of muscles/breathing/resonance.
which leads me to observe that (as I pointed out earlier) the knowledge of the
anatomy and physiology was not known by the authors Jason quoted, the lack of
this knowledge would not necessarily have precluded a certain amount of
empirical knowledge. The choirmaster could well have known from personal
experience that good posture and good breath control would help achieve the
desired tone, without knowing why this was so. I would suggest that the lack of
this knowledge might well have made it more difficult to communicate the effects
they were trying to achieve in writing. What you have is the choirmaster
training the choir by saying "I want you to sing it this way." which is an easy
and effective thing for the choirmaster to do, but does not lend itself to
written communication.
ns
> I think it's fair to say that Renaissance composition is more of a craft
> than an art.
H'mm, did you really think this statement would bring
no comment or question? :-)
Do you mean that in other domains like painting, for instance,
or writing, there's no craft to be mastered ? In music I'd
understand 'craft' as meaning composition techniques, your
own definition is probably not too far from this one.
As for 'art', that's more difficult if we don't want to troll :-)
I have serious doubt that a definition can be given, which
would be shared by everyone - this is a kind request to explain
your own one - I mean, have you objective criterias which allow
someone to make a distinction between craft and art ??
(we unfortunately know that 'breaking' the laws is not enough
to make art - even if 'some way' of breaking them can lead to
art - we'd just have to define this little 'some way' :-) )
I have a somewhat fair idea of 'art' for myself, and at the same
time I'm quite unable to suggest a "sharable" definition...
Mine would be roughly : among hundreds of pieces that I've
listened to, some of them stay in my mind, and I come back to
them again and again (For instance 'Beata Virgine' by Josquin,
or some motets by Mouton, or 'Duo seraphim' or 'The death of
Euridice' by Monteverdi, and many more of course).
The same for different times (symphony 25 by Mozart), and
also for films, etc. In such case I'd say the author has pushed
a craft to a limit unreached by others - I call this art, always
linked with emotion, for me. I'd say, also, that a craft may
be more or less welcome depending of the context, this also
I'd include in my personal definition of art.
And I'd perhaps add something between craft and art: the
personal favorite tricks of a composer, which make up his own
style...
I'm not at all that I'll agree completely tomorrow with what
I've just written... :-)
--
Most pages of "Musique renaissance" are available in English
Alain Naigeon - Strasbourg, France - anai...@free.fr
http://anaigeon.free.fr | http://www.medieval.org/emfaq/anaigeon/
Oh, in that case, I totally disagree. So much so, I feel no need
to elaborate.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
> I don't know about that, but we do get to see in print a much wider
> array of musical activity. Instead of just the very best and
> creative music (which still existed in the 16th century, even if
> it's less to my taste than earlier music), we can find second- and
> third-tier works, transcriptions, even some folk settings. So by
> percentage of things we can see today, I think you're right, but
> I don't think the production of "art" really slowed down.
By saying that Renaissance composition is a "craft" rather than an
"art", I wasn't referring so much to the quality of what is left to
us, but rather the means of production--the sense that one is much
less free in what one composes and that composition itself requires a
lot more attention to detail just to make it work. The difference,
for example, between writing Renaissance music and writing Baroque
music is rather like the difference between painting and marquetry.
In the first, the process creates much less interference between
initial conception and final product than the second.
Beth
As exemplified in the marquetry example (this was an illustration in
one of Gustave Reese's books, of Ockeghem's famous catholicon canon,
_Prenez sur moi_.
Didn't I read somewhere, Todd, that you compose, or am I imaging that? If
you do, I'm a little surprised you should say this. It's a general wisdom
among composers, I believe, that the process is 90% technique and 10%
inspiration - I've heard several say so (on one occasion directed
disparagingly at a pathetic effort of my own!) That sounds like a craft to
me.
Jason
I won't really dispute that, but the idea that Renaissance style
was somehow *more* constrained and thus more reliant on techinque
than others just doesn't hold water. Composers adopted especially
restrictive contraints in particular pieces, but none of these are
constraints that all pieces (even in any given decade, say) attempt
to follow. There was a huge variety of style, including on the
technical level. In fact, the 16th century might have been the
most far-flung in this regard (and certainly saw more than its
share of heated theoretical arguments), which is a big reason why
people such as the Council of Trent sought to restrict composers'
freedom by mandating particular styles in Church.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
It's interesting that this goes directly counter to what I always remember
being told in choirs when singing Renaissance music: that rising lines
should get louder, falling ones softer :-) Either approach taken as a hard
rule would be an unfortunate oversimplification, though, I'm sure ...
Jonathan Gilbert
: I won't really dispute that, but the idea that Renaissance style
: was somehow *more* constrained and thus more reliant on techinque
: than others just doesn't hold water. Composers adopted especially
: restrictive contraints in particular pieces, but none of these are
: constraints that all pieces (even in any given decade, say) attempt
: to follow.
Hello, there, Todd, and please let me say that I would stand by my initial
"art of composition" in the 16th century, applied also to the late
15th-century styles which may be under consideration here.
Of course, there are stylistic constraints in various genres of late 15th-
and 16th-century music; this is true in almost any style.
In a given style, of course, these constraints may influence compositional
techniques -- as is also true in improvisation.
For example, in 13th-century composition, a "layered" technique
(e.g. adding a third or fourth part to an established two-voice or
three-voice texture) may be easier because of the variety of vertical
combinations available.
As Jacobus of Liege notes, _any_ interval which is not considered an
outright discord (Franconian "perfect discord: minor second, major
seventh, tritone or diminished fifth, minor sixth) is to some degree
"concordant" (_consona_) and can have a good effect in combinations; and
as Johannes de Garlandia suggests, _any_ "discord" can be "equivalent" to
a concord when aptly resolved to a stable interval. In practice, all 14 of
the regular intervals from unison to octave (counting the tritone and
diminished fifth separately, respectively 729:512 and 1024:729) occur
freely and boldly.
In a Renaissance style, intervals such as major seconds or ninths and
minor sevenths are rather restricted, for the most part, so as Zarlino
notes it can be a bit more of an artistic challenge to add a new part to
an established texture. However, this didn't stop lots of composers from
doing it, nor did it prevent forms like the German quodlibets, which seem
somewhat analogous to me to 13th-century motets.
Anyway, there may some special elements of freedom in 16th-century style
both because of the flexibility of the modal system, in comparison say to
Late Baroque major/minor tonality, and because of the interestingly
"jazzlike" situation when it comes to vertical progressions. Traditional
14th-century progressions are often guiding new 16th-century sonorities,
rather as 18th-19th century progressions may often guide the 20th-century
sonorities of jazz.
People like Richard Crocker and Carl Dahlhaus have noted this kind of
interaction of old progressions and new sonorities, and together with
modal fluidity it leaves lots of room for inventiveness and beauty. As
Pietro Aaron remarked around 1525, we may have in effect a game of "hide
and seek" or the like in which the composer traverses various modes before
managing to return to the original one -- and Nicola Vicentino (1555)
suggests that in freer styles, one can well begin in one mode and end in
another, if the words so suggest.
: There was a huge variety of style, including on the
: technical level. In fact, the 16th century might have been the
: most far-flung in this regard (and certainly saw more than its
: share of heated theoretical arguments), which is a big reason why
: people such as the Council of Trent sought to restrict composers'
: freedom by mandating particular styles in Church.
This is very true, as I was reminded by the prominent parallel fifths in
Susato -- not to mention the villanella and related genres. Here I might
add that the Tridentine mandate for "intelligibility" of text didn't
exclude imitative writing in practice, and as Cardinal Borromeo noted, it
left room for various styles, reflected in the Cardinal's invitation of a
"chromatic Mass" or the like from Vicentino.
Vicentino's experimental music, and also his analysis of "common
practice" (which he describes as "mixed and tempered music"), may suggest
the stylistic variety prevailing.
I would say that craft and art in composition equate quite nicely with
technique and imagination. Consequently I remain firmly of the view that
issues of musical style are matters of craft. How a composer applies that
style is art. Thus the conception of a new style/idiom - an imaginative
process - is art, but the development of the language and rules which ensure
that it is applied consistently (possibly the biggest problem for modern
composers) is down to sheer hard work and unremitting self-criticism - which
I classify as craft. Medieval rules for ensuring "nice" sounds by the
correct application of concords and discords are most certainly a question
of technique. Adding a pars ad placitum certainly requires artistry if it is
to be done well, but is futile without the essential technical grounding.
Ditto quodlibets. It's worth remembering that the medieval quadrivium
consisted of the mathematical sciences: arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and
music; while the trivium consisted of the non-scientific subjects: grammar,
rhetoric, and logic.
Jason
The statement is true as far as it goes, but medieval "rules" were
extremely flexible. Most of the "rules" one can find stated were
frequently broken. Attempting to describe what rules Machaut or
Ockeghem followed in their oeuvres as a whole is a difficult
proposition at best, and that's with the benefit of hindsight.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Breaking the rules doesn't necessarily point to art over craft. Having the
imagination to see the possibility is art, making sure that one does it in
such a way as to get away with it is craft. I reckon the latter usually
involves more effort.
Jason
I don't disagree. The only point is that medieval polyphony follows
very few rules.
>I reckon the latter usually involves more effort.
Well, I'd say that initially practicing technique and being creative
are both quite tiring. The only difference is that the former
becomes easy after a point. It's a hurdle to be lept, if you will.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
> Medieval rules for ensuring "nice" sounds by the
> correct application of concords and discords are most certainly a question
> of technique.
Ok, but, is it enough to put nice songs one after the other
to make acceptable music..? Some idea of a "path" must exist,
that is, the sounds must go somewhere. Today these things
can be learnt by studying harmony, but I don't know which
framework is necessary to understand and to state that when
speaking of melodies (counterpoint)...?
It certainly did last a long time. I don't know quite what you
mean by earlier or later, or where you place the boundaries. Margo
does a pretty good job of describing many of the operative harmonic
principles used in Ars Antiqua polyphony, and there are some
purported principles in the debate surrounding the origin of the
Ars Nova. Already, Machaut doesn't really follow them. In the
Ars Subtilior, just what the underlying rules were or weren't is
even harder to discern, and by the Ockeghem generation (where I
place the end of the medieval era, i.e. immediately pre-printing
press, pre-new approach to text, and pre-pervasive imitation),
although there are certain contrapuntal techniques which recur,
Ockeghem seems to use a different operative principle in each work.
There was a theoretical hierarchy of consonance/dissonance throughout
the period, but little indication beyond that, i.e. how dissonances
could or couldn't be used, plus a wealth of variety in the way
parts were disposed, etc.
The literature is seriously lacking on this topic, anyway, but
maybe we can correct that. As it stands, it's almost as if there
were no rules at all, which I don't really believe, even if I do
believe the 15th century was relatively free of rules.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
In earlier medieval music, I certainly agree; but I'm not so sure about
later on. As you'll agree, the medieval era lasted a long time.
> >I reckon the latter usually involves more effort.
>
> Well, I'd say that initially practicing technique and being creative
> are both quite tiring. The only difference is that the former
> becomes easy after a point. It's a hurdle to be lept, if you will.
In general, yes; but when breaking rules, each problem is likely to be
individual and hence need tackling from square one.
Alain Naigeon replied:
>
>As for 'art', that's more difficult if we don't want to troll :-)
>I have serious doubt that a definition can be given, which
>would be shared by everyone - this is a kind request to explain
>your own one - I mean, have you objective criterias which allow
>someone to make a distinction between craft and art ??
I commend to your attention a thought-provoking book by Allen Gowans,
called "The Unchanging Arts." (It's one of a trilogy of books on the
general subject of art and its place in society, but it's the only one of
the three I've read.) I'm sure it's out of print, but a good art or art
and architecture library should have it, because Dr. Gowans is a historian
of visual art, including that art usually disparaged as "crafts." Even
though his field is visual arts, I found on first reading that the
comparison with musical arts is spot on, and helps me understand the common
(and, to me, entirely artificial) disconnect between popular and classical
music in the 20th century.
His thesis is that while the forms of art obviously change from one culture
to another and from one time to another in the same culture, the functions
of that art remain unchanging. And that's the first important point: the
arts exist because society has a need for them, has a place for them, and
sees value in them.
Without going into too much detail, I can summarize his next important
point rather easily. There is a wide range of functional art, from that
which barely satisfies the lowest common denominator to that which exhibits
incredible creativity and astonishing craftsmanship. And society has a
place for both extremes, and for every gradation between them. What's
important, however, is that both the Low Art and the High Art (his terms)
are successful at fulfilling the functions that society expects from them.
Against this he opposes "Fine Art," by which he means art that has no
function in society whatsoever except to satisfy the ego of the artist.
It's art that is made into big business by the galleries and salons that
pamper artists and encourage them to turn out more and more art that has no
connection with society's needs. As he says (I paraphrase), "We have a
name for something that has no connection with its environment, receives no
input, and gives no output. We call such an entity a corpse."
So, to return to Beth's comment, it's pretty clear that Leonin, DuFay,
Josquin, Monteverdi, Bach, Mozart and Haydn were producing Functional Art
that was immediately needed and used in their societies. There were plenty
of other musicians working at the same time as those whom we recognize as
gifted or even geniuses, but those others were producing Low Art or Medium
Art, while the ones we pay tribute to today were producing High Art. But
none of them produced "Fine Art" in the 20th century sense. All their
music was written for a functional purpose, was subject to feedback from
their listeners and patrons, and strove to satisfy the taste of those
listeners and patrons. They were craftsmen, highly trained, highly
creative, very much aware of their skills, but still craftsmen doing what
they did best.
The 19th century romantics let the whole thing go to pot!
The 20th century musicians who continue the craft as practiced by Bach,
Mozart et al. are those working in commercial music, producing CDs,
composing singable and attractive church music, expressing their creativity
in commercial jazz, writing for the musical theater, writing film scores,
and so on. They are writing and performing music that is based on
society's needs and tastes, they are attentive to feedback from that
society, and they are, quite properly, attempting to earn a good living
from their craft. Just as Mozart did.
Alain seems to be thinking in this same general direction. Of COURSE all
art is craft, but so is all craft art. (I will except paintings of
Campbell Soup cans!) In fact my own belief goes a bit farther than that.
I believe that all art is entertainment or it fails as art, and that all
entertainment is art or it fails as entertainment. But I suppose if I were
smart I'd be rich, and that hasn't happened yet!!
John
John & Susie Howell
Virginia Tech Department of Music
Blacksburg, Virginia, U.S.A. 24061-0240
Vox (540) 231-8411 Fax (540) 231-5034
(mailto:John....@vt.edu)
http://www.music.vt.edu/faculty/howell/howell.html
>>The difference,
>>for example, between writing Renaissance music and writing Baroque
>>music is rather like the difference between painting and marquetry.
> Oh, in that case, I totally disagree. So much so, I feel no need
> to elaborate.
Ooops, I said that wrong; I meant to say between marquetry and
painting.
In any case, that statement is based on my own experiences in
composing in both styles. Maybe all the composers back then
experienced it differently.
Beth
I think the original statement was actually not so much a stylistic
statement as a technical one, since high notes "sound" louder than
low notes, hence, to keep a line sounding at the same volume levels,
one should get softer as the line rises and louder as the line falls.
As a matter of fact, it's a very good basic rule that all singers
ought to adopt. I constantly hear singers (i.e. voice major graduate
students at Indiana University School of Music, who ought to know
better) inadvertently making syllables that fall onto high notes
louder than the ones that are lower, even if the lower ones are
accented, producing absurdities such as "Se in vit-to-rie si bel-le,
VIT-to-rie, VIT-to-rie si bel-le." (Monteverdi, _Madrigali Guerrieri_).
I honestly think you're talking more about your own comfort level.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Interesting. I haven't read the book, but, from your summary, it sounds as
though Gowans marked out the ground by defining the various categories of
art as he saw them and assessed the products of various eras and cultures
according to his definitions. So it's presumably an exposition of the value
(or otherwise) of such art to a twentieth-century mind, using
twentieth-century criteria. I'm just guessing of course. If so, that's
perfectly justifiable. Nevertheless, I'm left wondering what HIP performers
should make of it. When we aim to create a musical performance as near as
possible to something which the composer himself might have produced, we
should presumably be trying to see the music from his viewpoint - to
understand it in the way he understood it. That may well require a radical
reappraisal of the ratio of art to craft. It's an impossible task, of
course: this thread has highlighted how personal the results are likely to
be. The best one can hope for is what has been termed "an honest
approximation" - but, given the stated aim, it's something that the
performers need to attempt.
But it's a two-edged sword, isn't it? Performers can't afford to ignore
their audiences, who will inevitably judge it in terms of modern day values.
If the performance isn't meaningful for them, why bother at all?
I tend to divide things in two ways: creating a "musical museum"
which has an inherent value as part of the inherent value of
knowledge, and using things we've learned about music of the past
to create a valuable musical experience in the present. For now,
most of the former overlaps with the latter, but I think inevitably
that will cease being so true as the HIP movement runs its course.
So, yes, I think it's important to ask why you're doing what you're
doing, and what it is you hope to express or accomplish.
I'm not going to touch John Howell's slant. We determined long
ago that I like & value "contemporary" music, and he doesn't. This
is really no place to rehash the topic.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
> I honestly think you're talking more about your own comfort level.
Hey! Don't knock it. It may be subjective, but our own comfort
levels can actually give us all sorts of information not available
from the outside.
For example, consider the amount of influence that fashion has on
people's behavior. There were all sorts of behaviors in the 19th
century that were considered natural to women, when in fact, those
behaviors were almost a direct result of the limitations imposed by
wearing corsets. Of course, at the time, people (except for doctors
and feminists) laughed at ideas such as this, and women who agitated
for an end to oppressive clothing styles were also laughed at, to the
point where most early feminists gave up this one pet peeve. Having
experienced wearing corsets without having grown up in them, I know
just how much reality changes when I can't bend down to put on my own
shoes or run without getting faint..
So if I find it less work per resulting minute of sound to write
a fugue in the style of Bach (many organists can improvise them)
than to write a canon in diatesseron in the style of Ockeghem
("Prenez sur moi") which follows much stricter constraints on
allowable counterpoint, is there someone out there with more compositional
training who wants to tell me that I'm wrong to think that this tells
me something about the relative difficulty of composing in either
style?*
Beth
*According to the Guinness Book of World Records, the most prolific
composer to have ever existed was Telemann. Given that not all of
Telemann is mere "sewing-machine music", again, is one not allowed to
infer something about the relative difficulty of writing music in the
Baroque style?
Do tell.
>So if I find it less work per resulting minute of sound to write
>a fugue in the style of Bach (many organists can improvise them)
And any composition student I've ever heard of is trained with
them, almost from day one, along with major-minor tonality....
Children learn to play Bach fugues on the piano.
>than to write a canon in diatesseron in the style of Ockeghem
>("Prenez sur moi") which follows much stricter constraints on
>allowable counterpoint
And this is about the strictest piece you could possibly select....
What are the constraints on allowable counterpoint in Ockeghem's
Missa Mi-Mi? Or, to pick another chanson, a more prototypical
example such as Ma bouche rit?
>Given that not all of Telemann is mere "sewing-machine music",
>again, is one not allowed to infer something about the relative
>difficulty of writing music in the Baroque style?
I tend to believe composers became a lot more willing to write down
or publish things they wouldn't have thought worth writing down or
publishing. In Ockeghem's time, the musicians he worked with would
have performed plainchant on other than special occasions.
I also think that if virtually every popular song you heard from
birth was in the style of 15th century counterpoint, and if you
regularly heard Muzak versions of Ockeghem chansons in the supermarket,
you'd feel a lot less constrained by the style. You might even
think that major-minor tonality seems strange and constraining.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
Yes indeed. I risk being burnt at the nearest stake, but I'll admit that,
whilst I believe it's essential to try to understand how an authentic
performance of a given piece should go, at the end of the day I never let
that get in the way of how I want to play it. It took me a ridiculously
long time to learn it, but, whatever your teacher might be trying to get you
to do, if you don't feel completely at ease with an interpretation, it's not
going to work.
>So, to return to Beth's comment, it's pretty clear that Leonin, DuFay,
>Josquin, Monteverdi, Bach, Mozart and Haydn were producing Functional Art
>that was immediately needed and used in their societies.
Was the 36-part canon by Ockeghem ever sung? (or commissioned?)
--
Samuel
A prelude by Johann Sebastian Bach performed by the guitarist, Lord Baden Powell
- Chr. J. van Geel
> So if I find it less work per resulting minute of sound to write
> a fugue in the style of Bach (many organists can improvise them)
> than to write a canon in diatesseron in the style of Ockeghem
> ("Prenez sur moi") which follows much stricter constraints on
> allowable counterpoint, is there someone out there with more compositional
> training who wants to tell me that I'm wrong to think that this tells
> me something about the relative difficulty of composing in either
> style?*
Strangely enough, having nearly no experience, I try to write
small pieces for fun, and I've noticed that imitation is
technically much easier than what I expected (even double
canons are not as "impossible" as I thought).
And, on the other hand, what is difficult (for me) is to
find ideas for the different voices - imitations have this
wonderful property that you don't need as many ideas as the
number of voices :-)
You have perhaps "art" already in you, that might be the reason
why you're insisting on the other side, the only one that you
had to work :-)
Needless to say, I'd be quite unable to write a fugue at this
moment, and I doubt any beginner could do it. But I'm sure
he would be able to write a little canon.
: I also think that if virtually every popular song you heard from
: birth was in the style of 15th century counterpoint, and if you
: regularly heard Muzak versions of Ockeghem chansons in the supermarket,
: you'd feel a lot less constrained by the style. You might even
: think that major-minor tonality seems strange and constraining.
Hello, there, Todd, and especially if that supermarket is a Natural Foods
Cooperative or has a good section of that kind, I'd _love_ to shop
there. I recall being in a book store which happened to play an
instrumental version of some Monteverdi or Gesualdo madrigals, and
reflecting, "This feels like home."
Over the past 33 years or so -- not enough lately -- I've composed mainly
in styles from early organum to the Mannerism of around 1600. I look at
imitation (for later styles in this usual range especially) and the modes
(often freely treated and combined, as in much period practice) as
"natural" -- recently in improvisations.
At times, I come up with things which are not exactly "period," but
"feel" right. For example, in something like the following, I feel that
I'm "reinventing" history, using a 17th-century of late Manneristic
practice (and by late in the century, the major/minor key system) in a
"neo-14th-century" way. Here C4 is middle C, c' in the more traditional
notation. Here I'll write with "free voicing," since I've used this so
far in keyboard improvisations in Pythagorean tuning or the like:
F4 E4 F#4 G4
D4 C#4 D4
B3 A3 G3
G3
Almost two decades ago, I attended a concert of women's music drawn from
various eras where the madrigals of Maddalena Casulana seemed "beautiful
and familiar," while some 19th-century music (Viennese to my ears) seemed
quite exotic, maybe the way lots of people hear 13th-16th century music.
Maybe ten years ago, there was a series on public television recreating
historical events in "news broadcast style": Salahaddin in Jerusalem, and
the Black Plague of 1347-1351. They included commercials with period
music, or music that sounded very "stylistically appropriate" to me; for
those moments, it was like a revolution, an incredible musical liberation
of the mass media. Also this program, or another, used a 14th-century
motet as its theme music -- really a rare delight.
One pleasure of looking at a three-voice conductus around 1200, say, is to
look at the lower parts and ask myself what I might do next in the triplum
-- sometimes finding a delightful accord with the composer's actual
choice. There's an empathy here: this is _our_ style, even if I have a
curious and partial understanding of it.
Of course, there's an important distinction: why I shift between keyboard
improvisations in Gothic style in Pythagorean tuning, and some
16th-century style in meantone, I am a part of two stylistic worlds each
of which influences my view of the other. It may be as difficult for me to
imagine hearing _only_ 13th-century or 15th-century music -- as to both --
as for someone attunted to much later styles.
Anyway, I tend to regard the modes (as patterns, not as constraints), and
the expansion of major third to fifth and major sixth to octave, as
"natural"; and major/minor tonality as imposing constraints which exclude
or restrict lots of my favorite progressions, basic things like fluid
degrees of _musica recta_ (Bb/B) and _musica ficta_.
Maybe one person's natural style can be another person's restrictive
constraint. I just wanted to say, Todd, that your "hypothetical" example
really caught my attention in a personal way and spoke to much of my
experience, although of course I've been exposed to a variety of
musics from gamelan to the Beatles.
>>So, to return to Beth's comment, it's pretty clear that Leonin, DuFay,
>>Josquin, Monteverdi, Bach, Mozart and Haydn were producing Functional Art
>>that was immediately needed and used in their societies.
> Was the 36-part canon by Ockeghem ever sung? (or commissioned?)
I don't know, but I believe that "Spem in alium" actually was
performed when it was written.
Beth
> I honestly think you're talking more about your own comfort level.
Actually, I'm not only going by my own perceptions. I've heard much
the same thing said by Louis Dean Nuernberger. Any old Obies out
there who were also in the Collegium Musicum before 1987 will surely
remember him. Are you out there, Mr. Nuernberger?
Anyway, Mr. N. used to run the Collegium Musicum at Oberlin, and we
would do the most fascinating array of music, much of which had never
been published. At some point, he'd wandered around Europe with a
camera, photographing manuscripts from old church libraries, amassing
such things as the complete extant works of Sebastian de Vivanco. And
then he'd transcribe them and mimeograph them and give them to us to sing.
Sometimes the music would have brackets in odd places, and he'd
explain that a mouse had eaten part of that page so naturally, he'd
written something to fill in there. But you could never tell by
listening where those brackets were.
Anyway, he has impressive credentials both as a composer and a
musicologist. He has a Ph.D. in musicology and an M.M. in composition
from the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor, and he also studied with
Nadia Boulanger on a Rhodes scholarship. He's also very much in the
vein of Viennese composers who also studied musicology and edited a
lot of early works and went on to adopt a lot of their compositional
techniques. Right down to the German ancestry.
And he's always running down composers like Mozart and Beethoven, who
had it too easy. As he puts it, "The sonata form is just a hat rack!"
And even among modern composers, he distinguishes between those that
are too easygoing and those that work in a strict style. He prefers
the latter. And as musical style became at the same time less strict
and less experimental, we'd get less and less of it to do. Our
repertoire usually stopped with Monteverdi or d'India, once in a blue
moon included Bach, or Brahms, or Mendelssohn, and would then skip
forward to Schoenberg, Krenek, Distler, and d'Argento. And if he
couldn't find something to suit his purpose in a particular context,
he'd write it. And I think he'd agree with me.
Beth
Well, I was thinking more about contrapuntal style. I don't even
know what the analog of sonata form would be for Monteverdi's
madrigals. I'd say there isn't one....
Anyway, your former teacher sounds like an interesting guy, and we
may share a fair amount of taste in music. If we can use this
topic as an excuse to slam the musical periods I don't really care
for, I'm all game! :-)
But that wasn't really my plan. I'm a lot more comfortable with
earlier contrapuntal styles than with "tonal" music at this point.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org
According to the anecdote (which is late, but credible), Tallis's "Spem in
alium" was written in response to a 30-part piece by an Italian (no
title/composer given). There are circumstantial reasons for thinking that
it may actually have been, not a 30-part piece, but Striggio's 40-part "Ecce
beatam lucem".
Jason
And John Bull is alleged to have written *another* 40 parts to the piece
that we English choral types always call "Spam with Everything".
--
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mailto: <mo...@lspace.org> : Waistcoat of Despair that Sobs No Longer
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> Well, I was thinking more about contrapuntal style. I don't even
> know what the analog of sonata form would be for Monteverdi's
> madrigals. I'd say there isn't one....
You've hit the nail exactly on the head. The idea is that as a
composer, it is much harder to invent your own form as you go along
than it is to have a very well-mapped out scheme such as the
classsical sonata. (I learned a lot of music theory from my mother's
old Schirmer edition of the Mozart piano sonatas, because it had all
the various sections, such as primary theme, development, and
recapitulation marked in.) Also to invent your own musical style, as
Monteverdi did, by adopting dissonances, not willy-nilly as later
became permissible, practically, but in order to deliberately shock
the ears of those used to strict Palestrina-style part-writing.
> Anyway, your former teacher sounds like an interesting guy, and we
> may share a fair amount of taste in music. If we can use this
> topic as an excuse to slam the musical periods I don't really care
> for, I'm all game! :-)
He and Thomas Binkley would probably have been great friends if they'd
ever gotten to meet each other. Mr. N. would have us do one concert a
semester, on a theme of some sort--the Seven Vices, Heresy, Music and
Universities, or the Triumphs of Petrarch. For my audition, I had to
sight-read a Gesualdo motet.
> But that wasn't really my plan. I'm a lot more comfortable with
> earlier contrapuntal styles than with "tonal" music at this point.
I would be as well if it weren't for the fact that I'm a
harpsichordist, and a lot of what I do is playing continuo, which
means knowing my way around the tonal system as practiced until ca.
1780 or os. Often with my eyes shut, or no figures, which comes to
the same thing. On the other hand, the first "A" I ever got in
college was for Renaissance Counterpoint. And when there was a
keyboard improvisation contest and I would enter trying to do baroque
improvisation, I would end up with something closer to Byrd than to
Bach. And Byrd is probably still a lot closer to my heart.
(The extra 's' is for extra classs.)
I agree with this sentiment. It isn't one I'd describe the way
you first described your reaction to Renaissance composition, but
I do agree with the sentiment.
Todd McComb
mcc...@medieval.org