Missa Prolationum

Album: Ockeghem: The Ockeghem Collection
Track: "Missa Prolationum" (Track #9)
Composer: Johannes Ockeghem
Instruments: 4 vocals
Musical Form: Cyclic Mass
Year: ~1460

Who says that beauty is the ultimate goal? Music, as any art form, ostensibly aspires to please the senses and stimulate our emotional center. However, for many of the self-proclaimed cognoscenti (myself included, at times), it also serves a higher intellectual purpose. We tip our caps to those artists who possess such technical skill that their quantifiable achievements seem out of the grasp of an ordinary practitioner. These artists appeal especially to those who appreciate more than enjoy (insomuch as those two things are mutually exclusive).

So it was, and is, with Johannes Ockeghem. An extremely skilled composer, Ockeghem composed, among other things, a thirty-six voice motet and a mass that was everywhere a double canon. For the latter composition, he wrote for four voices, two with original musical lines and two that mimicked the others, using the same pitch intervals but performing in different time signatures and at different absolute starting pitches. Constructing a listenable mass under such constraints is no small feat and Ockeghem is rightly viewed as a master at the manipulation and construction of vocal lines in the Renaissance style.

But is it really good music? This guy can play a piano upside-down, with his arms crossed and his head under the keyboard. Although the performance is impressive and no doubt took a lot of practice, what actual value does it have? Don't get me wrong -- I'm not saying that Ockeghem is on the same musical level as our kitschy piano-playing friend, but before we crown Ockeghem the king of Renaissance music, I think it's fair to ask the question.

In the visual arts, perhaps the closest analog to Ockeghem's technique would be a hand-drawn fractal (see here for an example), where an artist is able to construct a complex figure connecting some initial geometric shape using a series of simple rules. In this analogy, the initial shape is like Ockeghem's melody for a single voice, a melody that he replicates in the other voices using simple mathematical relationships. Although there is an undeniable beauty in fractals, particularly when iterated many times over by a computer (example), do such images really compare to the work of artists like Pablo Picasso or Leonardo Da Vinci? Likewise, how do Ockeghem's "trick" compositions really compare to the works other great composers of the Renaissance and beyond?

My personal feeling is that they lack the pathos of his peers' work, as well as much of his own. The example quoted here, "Missa Prolationum," is a fascinating listen the first time you hear it. The elaborate canons produce a sort of long-period rhythmic pulsation that can be entrancing to those unfamiliar, but over the course of an entire mass cycle or on repeat listenings, the novelty value quickly wears off. Eventually, it becomes clear that the melodic restrictions Ockeghem was forced to impose in order to create his compositional miracle are ultimately suffocating the piece.

I won't go as far as to recommend avoiding Ockeghem, or even avoiding the pieces discussed here. Rather, I'll just say not to expect a deep personal connection to the music. It is interesting, but little more.


Related Links: Allmusic

Prenez Sur Moi Vostre Exemple Amoureux: A Canon Wrapped Inside a Puzzle

Album: Ockeghem: Missa "De plus en plus" & Chansons
Track: "Prenez Sur Moi Vostre Exemple Amoureux" (Track #7)
Composer: Johannes Ockeghem
Instruments: 3 vocals
Musical Form: rondeau cinquain
Year: ~1460

Long before quasi-psychedelic rock bands were syncing their LPs to Judy Garland movies and artists with postmodern aspirations were using backmasking to dodge censors, there was the puzzle canon. These deceptively simple pieces would be notated with only a single voice, but the composer would leave some clue that would indicate how the other voices were meant to be sung. For example, the other voices might sing the melody of the first voice in reverse or at half the tempo.

In the most well-studied example of this technique, "Prenez Sur Moi Vostre Exemple Amoureux," Ockeghem presents a rondeau and leaves the simple hint, "Take from me your example …" Using this and the form of the musical notation, the singers are to deduce that they sing the same melody as the first voice, but in different musical modes; that is, transposed up intervals of a fourth and a seventh. The result has an elegant, if somewhat bland, sound and illustrates how the juxtaposition of melody lines that are related to one another by a simple musical transformation can be pleasing to the ear.

These puzzle canons must have presented an intriguing game to early composers, as they would challenge themselves to find melody lines that could be transformed in simple ways to produce a pleasant harmony, much like a mathematician solving a complex equation. Indeed, the very relations that they sought were mathematical in nature. It would be interesting to see if any of the melodies that we are familiar with in the modern world could be self-replicated in such a way. Nevertheless, I have trouble seeing the lasting quality of this music. Despite its novelty, the music has little to offer our brains once we have "solved" -- that is, familiarized ourselves with -- the relationships between voices. One or two listens should be enough, then feel free to move on.

Related Links: Allmusic

Mort Tu As Navré De Ton Dart: A Fitting Tribute

Album: Ockeghem: Missa "De plus en plus" & Chansons
Track: "Mort Tu As Navré De Ton Dart" (Track #12)
Composer: Johannes Ockeghem
Instruments: 4 vocals
Musical Form: ballade
Year: 1460

Too often in the 21st century, we put so much emphasis on progress that we fail to properly appreciate our past. The musical world, as many others, relishes innovation, but relegates tribute to two-hour television specials and concert benefits that indulge nostalgia at the expense of inspiration. Such things belong at a funeral, not a tribute. A genuine tribute demonstrates the effect the deceased had on the world by presenting something that may itself live on for years to come. A genuine tribute is not for the mourners, but actually presents something that would have been fitting of the deceased.

Fortunately, such tributes were commonplace in the musical world of the Renaissance. In 1460, Johannes Ockeghem paid tribute to his musical mentor and predecessor, Gilles Binchois, with a ballade, "Mort Tu As Navré De Ton Dart," that incorporates elements of both his own style and that of his beloved mentor. The pathos of this music reflects a sort of simple sadness that we seldom hear in modern music. There is no existential self-reflection. There are no confused feelings of romance for the deceased brought on by the crude substitution of a commercial love song. The composer made something beautiful for this purpose alone and they wrote it not for themselves, but for the world.

When did this art form die? The next time a music legend, say Bob Dylan or Pete Townshend, dies, why don't today's indie darlings get together to record a tribute album with entirely new material inspired by the deceased. Who knows, collaborations of this sort might even inspire new ideas and new musical directions for the contributing artists. Wouldn't that be a fitting tribute?

Related links: YouTube

L'Homme Armé: Mass at Arms

Album: Busnois: Missa l'homme armé - Domarto: Missa Spiritus almus
Track: "Missa l'homme armé: Sanctus" (Track #4)
Composer: Antoine Busnois
Instruments: 4 vocals
Musical Form: Cyclic Mass
Year: ~1460

Whenever we're listening to music from the past, we always have a certain disconnect with the composer's target audience that prevents us from appreciating the piece in the same manner that a contemporary might have. Just as a 23rd-century Australian might fail to understand why an episode of South Park would choose to pit a former US Vice President against a mythical "half-man, half-bear, half-pig," the motivations for the choice in cantus firmi for 15th-century masses are often mysterious to the modern listener. Since we share little in our cultural history with the composer, a great deal of the context is lost.

So it is with "L'homme Armé," possibly the most popular cantus firmus melody of the 15th and 16th centuries. Many famous composers, including Guillaume Dufay, Antoine Busnois, Johannes Ockeghem, and Josquin Des Prez (among others), fashioned masses about this famous tune. The bare melody can be heard in this YouTube recording: L'Homme Armé. True to its name, which literally means "armed man," the song evokes images of soldiers marching into battle, proudly chanting allegiance to their unquestionably noble cause. Although many composers wrote music in the service of their home kingdoms and/or employers, it is not clear why this melody became such a staple for cantus firmus masses. Theories to its origin range from a rallying call for the crusades to the name of Guillaume Dufay's favorite tavern.

Regardless, the relative simplicity of the tune provides a nice starting point for modern listeners hoping to develop a feel for the style and structure of Renaissance masses. One particularly straightforward example is Antoine Busnois' mass, which retains much of the pathos of the original tune but uses more elaborate voicings and places it in a religious setting. Listening to the "Sanctus," one gets the impression of a society preparing for a culmination, perhaps military, political, or cultural. By forging a oneness with God, they likewise bring themselves together for the coming trials.

Busnois' interpretation is fairly literal (he may have been the melody's original composer), but later L'homme armé masses give less a feeling of urgency -- perhaps the song's popularity had less to do with its theme than with the ease with which it could be arranged for polyphony.

Related Links: YouTube