Fauxbourdon: A Treat for the Masses

Album: Dufay: Music for St. James the Greater
Track: "Missa Sancti Jacobi: IX. Communio" (Track #9)
Composer: Guillaume Dufay
Instruments: 3 vocals
Musical Form: Mass setting
Year: ~1430

One of the chief challenges of composing polyphonic music in the 15th century, as well in all previous centuries, was satisfying your own artistic needs, while simultaneously satisfying the needs of the church/court for which you were composing. This problem was particularly severe with sacred music, where the church often demanded that the scripture be clearly understandable to churchgoers in hymns and masses. This would limit composers to using parallel and oblique motion for much of the duration of the piece, greatly decreasing its complexity. In modern music, this is somewhat analogous to a songwriter being forced to write simple pop tunes in order to garner attention and raise money for their work.

Perhaps as a response to this limitation, Guillaume Dufay invented a technique called "fauxbourdon," a form of three-part parallel vocal harmony in which the two bottom voices sing at intervals of a perfect fourth and a sixth below the top voice. To imagine how such a harmony would be constructed, think of the notes in a triadic harmony (the example given in the link is from "Twist and Shout"), but adjust the root note up an octave. Here is an example of what it sounds like when used in a piece of religious music (skip to 0:45). The net effect is to give the music a more full (or "tonal") sound than simple homophony, while leaving the lyrics easily understandable.

The first known example of this technique is in the last section (the Communion) of Dufay's "Missa Sancti Jacobi," composed around 1430. The sound is not quite as pleasing as Dunstaple's moving triads, but it serves its purpose. After Dufay's introduction of it in this mass, fauxbourdon would see widespread use in continental polyphony through the end of the 15th century, particularly by Burgundian composers.

Related Links: Allmusic, Youtube

Ga-ga for Google Books

One of the most important events of the Information Age will be taking shape in the coming months. In October 2004, Google premiered its latest search engine at a book fair in Frankfurt, Germany. Then called Google print, the service allowed users to browse books that had been scanned into an electronic library using optical character recognition. The service is now called Google Books and has scanned over 7 million books into their library; certainly an impressive feat considering that only ~32 million books have been published in human history. Furthermore, after reaching a settlement with the Author's Guild and the publishing industry over copyright issues, Google is poised to greatly expand the fraction of their library that is available for preview and purchase.

Although some folks are still concerned about the terms of the settlement (privacy and antitrust issues, see the ASJA link below), it looks likely that the online availability of published material is going to increase in the coming months and years. In addition to being a major milestone for humanity, this service has been a tremendous help in researching my Hopeless Journey. When I search their database on a particular composer or composition, the volume of useful information that I can obtain from Google Books far exceeds that I can get from an ordinary Google search. Even for those books with limited previews, I need only browse a couple of paragraphs of the section that matched my search terms in order to obtain the information I'm looking for.

There is no doubt that Google Books will contribute a great deal to this blog. I'm old enough to remember what life was like before the internet... I have to say, this is a truly exciting time to be alive.

Related Links: Google Books, NYTimes article, Opposition from ASJA

The Development of the Cyclic Mass: A Great Service

Album: Dunstaple: Musician to the Plantagenets
Track: "Missa Rex Seculorum" (Tracks #12-15)
Composer: John Dunstaple
Instruments: 3 vocals
Musical Form: Cyclic Mass
Year: ~1410 - 1440

When we consider the composers of early music, it is important to judge them not just on the music they themselves wrote, but also the future music they contributed to. Unlike a scholarly paper, a mass or a symphony does not include citations -- it is the task of music historians to trace the origins of the forms and styles that the composer used. In this respect, the early composers perhaps deserve more credit than our ears are inclined to give, as they helped to develop the conventions we now take for granted.

As the 15th century opened, composers were restricted to short musical forms; that is, secular chansons and sacred motets (both typically ~5-10 minutes in length). The first long-duration musical form to see mainstream popularity would be the cyclic mass, developed by the composers of the Burgundian school in the mid-15th century. You may recall that I first discussed the concept of a cyclic mass in a post on La Messe de Nostre Dame. That mass setting, which was composed by Guillaume de Machaut, may well have been the first of its kind, but was either unknown to his contemporaries or failed to inspire further development of the form, because it wasn't until the early 15th century that the cyclic mass was acknowledged as a genuine mode of composition. The first cyclic masses (after Machaut's) were written in England and were unified by a musical theme at the beginning of each section.

The example given, "Missa Rex Seculorum," was written by John Dunstaple and includes a Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei. Notice the uniformity in scoring and rhythm between the Gloria and Credo -- each starts with a duo, not adding the third voice until about a minute and half in, at which point the rhythm changes as well. The Sanctus benefits the most from Dunstaple's pre-Renaissance style, the thirds blending to create an elegant and immediately-appealing texture that wasn't possible in Machaut's sonic framework. Overall, however, the piece is lacking the energy and invention of Machaut's mass, suffering somewhat from the limited vocal arrangment (2- or 3-part polyphony). Even Dunstaple himself has composed individual mass settings with more flair.

Just as with triadic harmony, the early development of the cyclic mass has been lost to history due to the purging of the monasteries in 16th-century England. Fortunately, however, the form would quickly catch on in continental Europe and composers such as Dufay and Busnois would continue to develop it. In fact, many of their inventions would survive for over a century, as the cyclic mass wouldn't truly fall out of favor until the Baroque period, starting around 1600.

Just YouTube It

Up till now, I hadn't been bothering with YouTube as a resource for medieval and Renaissance music, assuming that most of it was too obscure to be posted on that service. However, when I actually went and checked today, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that not only are many of the Hopeless Journey songs available, but also many of the specific recordings I've been listening to.

Since a link to YouTube allows casual web browsers to hear the songs I'm describing at the click of a mouse, I've decided to incorporate these links into the post headers. Whenever there is a link over a song title in one of my post headers, it goes to a YouTube recording of that composition. It won't always be the recording that I'm recommending in the header, but it will be to one that I think is similar enough to get my point across. If you want the specific recording referenced in the post header, it will usually be available on iTunes.

If a YouTube link goes dead, let me know and I'll try to find a replacement for it. I don't know what the typical lifetime of a YouTube link is, so I may abandon the practice if I find that they go dead too quickly.

John Dunstaple and Triadic Harmony: The Burgundian Three, Part III

Album: Dunstable: Sweet Harmony Masses and Motets
Track: "Quam pulchra es" (Track #1)
Composer: John Dunstaple
Instruments: 3 vocals
Musical Form: Motet
Year: ~1410-1453
Composition for Comparison: "Twist and Shout" by the Beatles and "Surfer Girl" by the Beach Boys

The elegant melodies of Binchois inspired a generation of musicians and Dufay's epic compositions elicit awe and respect even from modern listeners, but the real revolution of Renaissance music began with John Dunstaple. This great English composer is credited with introducing a technique that is often taken for granted by the 21st-century ear: triadic harmony.

In short, a musical triad consists of the root, third, and fifth of a major scale and contains intervals of a third between successive notes. For you music-theory beginners out there, I've selected some modern, well-known songs to demonstrate what this sounds like. The first is "Twist and Shout" as performed by the Beatles, a rendition that should be familiar to anyone who has seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off. The majority of the song uses a single lead vocal with a pair of backing harmonies, but if you play to 1:25 into the recording, you'll hear the Beatles build into a triadic harmony, one note at a time. It begins with John Lennon singing the root note ("Ahhh...") over the twanging of George Harrison's lead guitar. Next George chimes in with the third, followed soon after by Paul with the fifth. At 1:28, they're in a full triadic harmony. It only holds a complete triad for the few seconds after 1:28 -- the sequence continues after that to the seventh, breaking the triad. The notes of a triad can also be struck simultaneously: C Triad.

It's not uncommon to hear full triadic harmony in modern music, particularly in pop music of the '50s and '60s. In "Surfer Girl," a song by the Beach Boys from 1963, they utilize it throughout much of the song, crafting the melody over top of the moving triads. In fact, the arrangement is in many ways similar to that of "Quam Pulchra Es," one of John Dunstaple's motets from the mid-15th century. This motet is one of the more blatant examples of how the interval of a third was being gradually promoted to the status of a consonance (that is, a stable musical interval) in the early Renaissance period. For those that have been following my Journey, this sudden addition of musical triads should be a very noticeable (and very welcome) change to early polyphony. Compare it to this early mass movement by Guillaume de Machaut, where fourths, fifths, and octaves dominate the harmonic structure. Although such intervals achieve a more "pure" sound, they are almost too easy for the human brain to process and we may be left feeling like something is missing.

Triadic harmonies were commonplace through most of the 15th century in England, but it won't be until the late 15th and early 16th centuries that the musical changes initiated by John Dunstaple and his English contemporaries begin to permeate the music coming from continental Europe. Unfortunately, because of Henry the VIII's dissolution of the monasteries in the 1530's, very little music survives from England in the preceding century and the process by which triadic harmony was introduced into polyphony may forever remain a mystery. Dunstaple was famous enough that some of his music has come down to us from continental sources, but the catalog of surviving music doesn't even approach that of contemporaries like Dufay and Binchois. This is indeed a shame, as many argue that John Dunstaple was the most influential English composer of all time.

Related Links: Allmusic, YouTube, Triads in Medieval Music, Intervals

Guillaume Dufay: The Burgundian Three, Part II

Album: Guillaume Dufay: Quadrivium (motets)
Track: "Salve flos Tuscae gentis" (Track #1)
Composer: Guillaume Dufay
Instruments: 3 vocal, 1 trumpet/organ
Musical Form: Motet
Year: 1436

The expression, "knowledge is power," never sat well with me. That's not to say that I would discourage the collection of knowledge or the exploration of new things, nor would I disagree that the enlightened hold a certain power over the ignorant. What troubles me here is the use of the word, "knowledge." Is it enough to just know something, or does the true power (and joy) come from the deeper connection that's formed when we understand? The Hopeless Journey is built on this premise. It's not my goal to collect old music and add it to my music library; rather, I want to learn to hear what the ancients heard. I want to discover new ways of listening and understand why this music resonated with the people of its time.

One of my first and greatest challenges in this regard was Guillaume Dufay. It was over five months ago that I first downloaded Quadrivium amidst the initial exploratory phases of the Journey. As a person who spent most of his life listening to rock and pop, the experience of listening to this recordings was bewildering, to say the least. What could this music possibly have to offer me? The rhythms were simple, and the voices predominantly sang in intervals of fourths, fifths, and octaves. It struck me as difficult to understand why anyone ever liked this music; even the melody seemed like an afterthought.

Fortunately, I have been listening to music long enough to know that this is an exciting place to start. For the few weeks after I downloaded the recording (and intermittently during the following months), I played it to myself while I was working, before I went to sleep at night, and even while I was in the bath. At first, the music played very much as background, minimally distracting like a Kenny Loggins song played over the speakers of an elevator. Every now and then, when my focus was fixed on other minutiae of my life, the music would grab me. as if some transcendant sequence of notes had been struck... but as soon as my focus returned, the feeling faded.

Eventually, I began to understand. Traditional folk and popular music are designed to carry the listener in a direction wholly dictated by the composer. We all tap our feet to a Beatles song because we all feel connected to the melody -- our understanding of the music is shared and we trust the composer to take us somewhere interesting. Guillaume Dufay has no such intentions. A Dufay motet is a work of precision, a musical sculpture that we are encouraged to appreciate, but whose interpretation is not handed to us. Eventually, I began to incorporate this understanding into the way I listened. I stopped listening for musical phrases that were recognizable or catchy and began relaxing my ears, allowing the music to permeate my subconscious. I soon discovered that I not only understood why Dufay's music was so revered, but I began to think him a musical (and perhaps mathematical) genius.

I invite everyone to experience this for themselves with "Salve flos Tuscae gentis," my favorite of Dufay's motets. Guillaume Dufay is the most highly-regarded musician of his time -- his music and influence spanned the entire 15-century musical spectrum, including chansons, motets, and cyclic masses. In many ways, the progression of Dufay's work both mirrors and marks the development of polyphony in the early Renaissance and some even credit him with ending the medieval musical era on continental Europe. He will doubtless make an appearance in many more of my posts in the coming months, so think of the above motet as a starting point.

Related Links: YouTube, Allmusic

iTunes LP: Information Please

In the latest update to what is, for the most part, an excellent music service, Apple has unveiled iTunes LP. This upgrade to the traditional iTunes format allows users to interactively browse the inserts and cover art that would normally go along with a hard-copy CD or album. Previously, CD inserts were only available through iTunes in the form of PDF files that could be downloaded along with some of the albums in their catalog.

While I applaud Apple's effort to further resuscitate "album art," I'm disappointed that they haven't addressed the primary issue -- the very small number of albums for which booklets are available. In the past few years, I've downloaded over 30 albums and only three of them had an accompanying PDF booklet. In fact, none of the albums I've downloaded for my Hopeless Journey have had booklets and it is these classical albums for which I am most in need of information. Even if Apple doesn't do it, somebody needs find a way to distribute information along with classical recordings; I can't imagine that many consumers already know enough about the works of Philippe de Vitry or Guillaume de Machaut to really understand what they're listening to when they hear a recording of medieval music. While Allmusic provides a partial solution with its scholarly discussions of famous compositions, these discussions are generally limited to the big-name composers and award-winning albums.

Maybe I'm spoiled by the Information Age, but really... information please!

Ars Subtilior and the Late Trecento: Volume III of the Hopeless Journey

The quantity of recorded music from the ars subtilior and late Trecento period (~1370 - 1400) is actually quite sparse, but the music is so intriguing that I had no trouble compiling a volume worth of my favorite tracks. I highly recommend this particular volume.

The ars subtilior was not dominated by any particular composer, although Baude Cordier makes two appearances on this collection. The late Trecento period is represented by Johannes Ciconia, an exhuberant Italian composer with a taste for French music. His works are rife with hocket and imitation, decorated with melismatic interludes. The order of the following tracks was selected for flow and is not chronological:

1. Una panthera
2. Belle, Bonne, Sage
3. Leray au soleyl
4. O felix templum jubila
5. Tout Par Compas (recommend recorder version)
6. Dieux gart
7. Fumeux Fume Par Fumee
8. Doctorum principem -- Melodia suavissima -- Vir mitis
9. En Seumeillant

The total running time is ~45 minutes.

The albums/collections I've heard, in order of preference:

1. The Saracen and the Dove - I already devoted a blog post to this album -- it is probably my Journey favorite to this point.

2. Codex Chantilly (Ballades & Rondeaux) - This album includes vocal performances of some of the must-hear ars subtilior pieces, including "Belle, Bonne, Sage" and "Fumeux Fume Par Fumee." Unfortunately, it also includes some mediocre instrumental interludes.

3. En Seumeillant (French Ars Subtilior) - It's hard to believe that they can do so much with a trio of bass recorders, but this album really stands out for its interpretation of the ars subtilior pieces. Although Codex Chantilly presents more historically accurate renditions, I still recommend checking out this recording.

4. Popes & Antipopes - Music for the Courts of Avignon & Rome - The latter half of this album dips into the Renaissance, but the whole thing falls kind of flat anyway. Although from the same group that did Saracen, their choice of material here may have sacrificed quality for thematic continuity (songs about the Great Schism).

Latest Update: 09/12/09

Awareness of Sound Quality: A Look at How We Listen

I never really considered myself an audio snob in the past. Until recently, I listened primarily to rock music, a genre that, although often rich in texture, is not hurt a great deal by a small loss in sound quality. I would happily don five-dollar headphones or transmit my music over the relentless static of a mostly-unused radio frequency... sometimes I felt like the raw sound actually contributed to the power of the music. Not so with classical.

As we delve into the Renaissance period, it is going to become more and more important to listen with a good sound system. The more vocal texture a composer adds to his pieces, the more we lose when we settle for low sound quality. Last night, I found myself overwhelmed by the power of a cyclic mass by Petrus de Domarto and it occurred to me that I had heard the mass before and experienced nowhere near the same level of bliss. I eventually realized that the previous time I had been listening through my iPod, while last night I had been listening through iTunes on my laptop. Needless to say, in the future legs of my journey I'll be avoiding the use of portable audio whenever possible.

Traditionally, sound quality has depended on the speakers/headphones and the player, but in the digital age the encoding of the audio file is also important. If you want to listen to classical music, particularly of the choral variety, I recommend listening through a pair of noise-canceling headphones and a relatively powerful source (like a computer or stereo system). In general, you'll also get better sound quality from a CD than a sound file with "lossy" encoding (this includes anything from iTunes), but I haven't found this to be essential. Of course, there are plenty of more expensive options for those who are even pickier than I am -- see the link below if this is you.

If you're stuck with cheapy equipment and portable audio, don't fret, there is still plenty to discover in early music. The important thing is just to be aware of the difference sound quality can make and to bear it in mind when you choose how you listen.

Related Links: Portable Audio for Snobs

Anonymous Composers: The Price of Anonymity

Album: Song for Fransesca
Track: "O Regina Seculi - Reparatrix Maria" and "Confort d'amours" (Tracks #10 and 15)
Composer: Anonymous
Instruments: 4 voices
Musical Form: motet and rondeau
Year: ~1400-1430

It is an unfortunate fact of life that the appreciation of art is dependent upon who we can ascribe it to. Perhaps we have a primitive need for an idol, an artist who we can hold up as a standard for excellence, either for ourselves or for others... or perhaps we don't trust ourselves to judge a work of art unless we know the source. Whatever the reason, anonymous compositions from the medieval and renaissance period are difficult to come by in modern recordings. The vast majority of the existing choral recordings of early music are from the big-name composers, but every now and then a recording artist will include anonymous works on their album.

A number of such works were included on the recording, Song for Francesca, including the motet, "O Regina Seculi - Reparatrix Maria," and the rondeau, "Confort d'amours." These are two of the best compositions that I've heard in my journey thus far, but I'm afraid that there is little I can say about them. I know that they were composed sometime in the late 14th or early 15th century in France and are fairly advanced, four-part works. The latter contains an intriguing rhythmic structure and may have been influenced by the ars subtilior. They also sound as if they could be isorhythmic, but I don't have the sheet music to confirm this.

Related Links: Song for Francesca review

Gilles Binchois: The Burgundian Three, Part I

Album: Gilles Binchois: Chansons
Track: "En regardent vostre tres doulx maintiens" (Track #4)
Composer: Gilles Binchois
Instruments: 1 voice, 1 harp
Musical Form: Rondeau
Year: ~1420 - 1460

The most intangible qualities of an age gone by are captured in the echoes of ancient melodies. We know what they said and what they made, where they went and what they did... and who they were. Yet nothing probes the subconscious mind of distant peoples as do the notes that struck them. There may have been no musician of the 15th century more immediately influential than Gilles Binchois, and the reason lies solely with the melodies he crafted.

Active from ~1420 until his death in 1460, Gilles Binchois is one of the three driving members of what became known as the Burgundian School, a group of composers working under the Dukes of Burgundy. The early work of these composers more or less set the tone for Renaissance music into the 16th century. Each composer specialized in a different style of polyphony -- Binchois' specialty was the chanson (a blanket term for secular music of the time). The rondeau, "En regardent vostre tres doulx maintiens," is an excellent demonstration of why his chansons were so well regarded. The melancholic melody is so graceful that it requires minimal accompaniment to carry the listener.

Much as with the work of Francesco Landini, I experienced an internal resistance to this music on my first exposure to it. The arrangements seldom utilize more than three voices/instruments and have minimal counterpoint... it feels in many ways like the early troubadour songs with only slight polyphonic embellishments. However, the simplicity of Binchois' polyphony belies the grace of its construction. As I became more familiar with the individual pieces, I found that the very slight deviations from parallel motion in the voices acted to deepen my anticipation of the cadences. It was an embellishment of something old, but in a way that was, in the 15th century, profoundly new.

To the modern listener, what Binchois has to offer is a very accessible demonstration of the 15th century aesthetic. The more complex polyphony of Dufay and Ockeghem will feel more approachable after developing a taste for Binchois, as the melodies he constructed in his chansons were very much representative of the Renaissance period. In many ways, his work parallels modern folk music, with lyrical songs that place an emphasis on melody and story-telling. Few modern listeners will understand what he is actually saying, but suffice to say that he writes primarily about courtly love. The album, Gilles Binchois: Chansons, contains 17 of his chansons and is an excellent place to start with Renaissance music.

Related Links: Allmusic

Discontinuing Journey Highlights

I have decided to discontinue the monthly journey highlights. I found that these posts contained mostly redundant material and my blog doesn't see enough readership for such summaries to be useful. Furthermore, posts on the Hopeless Journey Volumes serve nearly the same purpose and provide a better summary of the recent legs of my journey. I will of course continue to comment on those composers and tracks I find the most appealing, so please keep reading if you find such reviews useful.

The Dawn of the Renaissance: A Return to Elegance

As we turn the corner into the 15th century, we pass out of the medieval period and into the Renaissance. The bold experimentation of the ars nova and ars subtilior will give way to more graceful polyphony, replete with new sonorities and more sophisticated contrapuntal techniques. Experimentation will continue, but the oft-disorienting rhythmic subtleties of the Chantilly Codex will take a back seat to more accessible compositional styles represented by the Burgundian School (more on this soon). The increasing popularity and distribution of polyphony will mean that composers are writing for an audience somewhat larger than a handful of idiosyncratic noblemen... and the invention of the printing press in 1440 will ensure that a larger fraction of compositions will survive to appear in the iTunes store.

Before I move on, however, I want to reflect on where I've been. It has been six months since I started on the Hopeless Journey and, although I don't think the number of people reading this blog is any greater than it was in April, my own immersion in the journey has far surpassed my original expectations. I haven't enjoyed everything I've heard, but every new composer brings with them a new way of listening to music and a new way of enjoying it. The complex rhythms of the ars subtilior constantly threaten to slip from my grasp, but even a simple troubadour melody lays out before me like a puzzle -- perhaps it's simple to solve, but first I have to learn to speak the musical language.

And here I am, hopefully having eked out a sense for what medieval ears were hearing. As I continue on, the cultural divide will get narrower, but compositional techniques will increase in sophistication and the breadth of Western musical culture will expand. The new challenges may force me to modify my approach to the journey, but I hope to retain the current blog format, or at least something very similar. If you are reading, please, every now and then take the time to download some of the songs I discuss. Without that context, I'm afraid much of what I'm saying will seem distant or obscure. The reality is that I found medieval and Renaissance music to be quite the opposite. The songs are not as catchy or immediately accessible as their 20th- and 21st-century counterparts, but the musical ideas are easy to understand. These composers were more or less starting from scratch and if you approach the music from that same point of view, you will eventually be able to see the beauty that they hoped to communicate.

Una Panthera: A Meeting of the Minds

Album: Saracen and the Dove
Track: "Una Panthera" (Track #10)
Composer: Johannes Ciconia
Instruments: 3 voices
Musical Form: Madrigal
Year: 1399

New music is born at the intersection of pre-existing movements; this truism is well known by punks as much as by classical composers. Unfortunately, during the late medieval period, musical cross-fertilization was a slow and difficult process, in no small part due to the Black Plague that was ravaging Europe. Nevertheless, one musical patron, a man by the name of Gaston Febus, managed to both navigate the turmoil of the times and foster an atmosphere of invention in his court. To the music world, he was much like a medieval Andy Warhol, attracting the great composers of the day and encouraging them to compose in the complex ars subtilior style.

In addition to having its own cast of talented musicans, Febus' court attracted many visiting composers, including those from Italy. In the late 14th century, the Italian Trecento was itself flourishing, pioneering musical techniques and forms, such as the canon and imitation, led by composers such as Johaness Ciconia. It is not known whether Ciconia ever visited Febus' court, but it is clear that the ars subtilior style had a big influence on his later work, most notably "Una panthera." This madrigal can be heard to alternate between the elegant fluidity of the Italian Trecento and the rhythmic experimentation of the ars subtilior.

As it would turn out, the late Trecento period (late 14th century and early 15th century) would be the last hurrah for the elaborate experimentation characteristic of the ars subtilior. Early Renaissance compositions saw a return to a more graceful (and accessible) style that, although not lacking in beauty, lacked the cerebral sophistication of the music coming from the court of Gaston Febus. Compositions with such rhythmic complexity would not be heard again until the 20th century.

Related Links: Gaston Febus, Allmusic