Ars Antiqua: Volume I of the Hopeless Journey

The inclusion of a cantiga de amigo puts the finishing touches on the first collection of music from my Hopeless Journey. What follows is a playlist of songs written before ~1320 (the approximate beginning of the ars nova period) that I consider to be among the best I've encountered on my travels. The purpose of this list is not to recommend any particular set of recordings, but rather to compile a set of compositions that represent a fair sampling of the time period and provide a pleasant listening experience. The ordering of the list attempts to compromise between listenability and chronological development, with an emphasis on the former. I may update the volume (add and/or remove tracks) as I continue to listen to music from the period.

1. Reis Glorios
2. Viderunt Omnes (Track #3, Léonin & Pérotin: Sacred Music from Notre-Dame)
3. Sederunt Principes
4. Cantiga de amgio: Ai Deus, se sab'ora meu amigo
5. Hoquetus I-VII - Neuma / Virgo / In seculum longum / D'Amiens longum / In seculum
6. Beata Viscera

The total running time is ~40-45 minutes, depending upon which versions you download.

I haven't sampled a great many albums/collections as compared to the total volume of recordings out there, but the best I've heard, in order of preference, are

1. Léonin & Pérotin: Sacred Music from Notre-Dame - A collection of Notre Dame polyphony from ~1200, presented in the order of musical development
2. Music of the Gothic Era - A rather diverse sampling of early medieval music that
also includes ars nova pieces
3. Wanderers' Voices - Medieval Cantigas & Minnesang - The nicest set of monophonic medieval songs that I've heard
4. Music of the Middle Ages, Vol. 1: Troubadour and Trouvere Songs - relatively bare-bones recordings of some of the better troubadour songs.

I don't have much to offer those looking for recordings of Gregorian chant, as I wasn't impressed with anything I heard. However, Salve Regina: Gregorian Chant is one of the more critically acclaimed collections.

Latest Update: 09/01/09

Zelus Familie: Perfect Simplicity

Album: Music of the Gothic Era
Track: "Zelus Familie" (Track #7 on disk 2)
Composer: Anonymous
Instruments: 3 voices
Musical Form: Motet
Year: ~1300

The compositions of the ars antiqua period could only have been categorized as such in retrospect -- it is only in view of the musical advances of the following century that these pieces seem antiquated. In music, however, even the strictest and most simplistic rubric allows for beauty and we should not dismiss "primitive" work simply because of these limitations. In a modern context, perhaps punk music or blues are simplistic in comparison to progressive rock, but does that mean that they are inferior? Perhaps as music, but not as art.

It is with that mindset that I approach "Zelus Familie", an anonymously-composed motet from the early 14th century. Although technically classified as ars nova (more on this artistic movement soon), "Zelus Familie" has most of the elements of a 13th century composition. It keeps primarily within the third rhythmic mode and the voices remain tightly coupled throughout the piece. The only progressive element is its increased dynamic range, but I'm not sure if this was notated in the original manuscript or chosen by the performers. Either way, the results are beautiful in their simplicity -- a composition that might otherwise be hypnotic becomes emollient with the increased dynamic motion.

As far as medieval polyphony is concerned, the road gets rockier from here on. Although the most revered works from the medieval period were produced after 1300, the increased musical freedom that composers were allowed can be something of a burden to the untrained listener trying to cull the wheat from the chaff... bear with me, I'm sure there will be many gaps in my explorations.

The Petronian Motet: Baby Steps

Album: Music of the Gothic Era
Track: "Aucun ont trouvé" (Track #2 on disk 2)
Composer: Petrus de Cruce
Instruments: 2 voices, 1 fiddle
Musical form: Motet
Year: ~1290

Any politician will tell you that tradition can often be a sizable impediment to progress, even when progress is the universal goal. So it goes with music as well. Suppose you decided one day that you were going to write a song about... I don't know, your favorite piece of dishware. Any song you would sit down to write would likely be some combination of music you had already heard, even if that music had not itself been about dishware (most likely it wasn't). This applies equally in the 21st century as in the 13th century, but imagine further if all of the music you had heard previously had been performed (and likely written) within 100 miles of your house. Even further, imagine that when you want to write this music down (there are no recording devices onhand), you need to write within a preexisting rhythmic structure if anyone is going to be able to translate what you have written into a performance. In other words, you have two choices. You either write your song the traditional way or you invent your own notation for a new rhythmic structure, write a treatise explaining that notation, and then write a song within this new untested rhythmic structure.

Given these barriers, it should be no surprise that it took over a century to break from the traditions established by the Notre Dame School of Polyphony, particularly when the latter had exploited them so effectively. Nevertheless, two medieval composers, Petrus de Cruce and Philippe de Vitry, chose the more difficult of the two options described above. In this case, the tradition was the rhythmic modes, structures that had at that point become embedded in the musical notation. Phlippe de Vitry essentially started from scratch and I will discuss his work in a later entry. Petrus de Cruce did not eliminate the rhythmic modes, but in his treatise, Ars cantus mensurabilis, he invented a notation that allowed for an arbitrary number of rhythmic subdivisions within each mode repetition. For example, if I was writing within the first rhythmic mode, I could have the lower voice keep a "long - short" rhythm at an arbitrarily slow tempo while the highest voice filled the gaps with an elaborate melody many notes in length. Any motet that used this technique (and accompanying notation) was called a "Petronian motet," named after Petrus de Cruce himself.

The example given, "Aucun ont trouvé", has only two voices and works primarily within the first rhythmic mode. The Petronian technique certainly makes the piece sound more "free", but at the expense of substance. The upper voice sounds like it's performing a monologue, while the lower voice carries a rhythm, performed in a slow drawl, that often gets lost in the flowery melody. Although there is no doubt in my mind that the technique could be used effectively, this Petronian motet really does feel like a short-term fix to a long-term problem -- like treating hemorrhagic fever with band-aids. Well, it's not really anything like that, but bigger changes (and better similes) are to come. Stay tuned.

External Links: YouTube

O Mitissima: The Hypnotic Modes

Album: Music of the Gothic Era
Track: "O mitissima" (Track #15 on disk 1)
Composer: Anonymous
Instruments: 3 voices, 1 shawm, 1 tabor
Year: ~1200

One of the defining characteristics of the ars antiqua period was the strict adherence to the set of rhythmic modes laid out by the Notre Dame School of Polyphony (see Sederunt Principes and Rhythmic Modes for a full description). Since there were six modes -- only three of which were commonly used -- and the modes were only two or three strikes in length, these early pieces tended to be repetitive in nature, with fairly simple dynamics. Furthermore, the preponderance of octaves, fifths, and fourths in the harmonic structure (anything else was viewed as a dissonance) made ars antiqua compositions sound very rigid.

Although this rigidity was often a bad thing (see Honking Geese), a clever composer could use it to give their music a hypnotic feel. Nowhere is this more apparent than in "O mitissima", one of the many Gregorian chants converted to polyphony by an anonymous ars antiqua composer. Interestingly, the composer here chooses to overlay the stanzas from the original chant, giving one to each voice and making it seem as if the singers are all part of a larger, ongoing conversation with God. In the modern era, rhythmic repetition is often used in dance music to put the listeners (or dancers) into a trance-like state, perhaps not so unlike that of a devout monk praying to God.

Hoquetus I-II and Hoquetus David: Hocket Up

Album: Music of the Gothic Era
Track: "Hoquetus I-II" (first ~2 minutes of Track #1 on disk 2) and "Hoquetus David" (Track #20 on disk 2)
Composer: Anonymous and Guillaume de Machaut
Instruments: 2 cornetts, 1 shawm
Year: ~1300 - 1400

That's right, the hocket. Basically, a hocket is a piece where two voices alternate on notes of the melody, one resting while the other sounds. In modern music, you'll often hear a second voice harmonizing, backing the lead, or alternating on verses, but seldom will you hear two voices alternate on the melody multiple times in a measure. I was excited when I discovered this lost art, because it offers something that you'll never hear listening to the radio.

The hocket was actually pioneered by the Notre Dame School of Polyphony, but survived into the 14th century in secular music. I unknowingly encountered the hocket for the first time in "Amor Potest" (see Honking Geese), where its use was so simple-minded that I dismissed it almost immediately. In that piece, they alternated with uniform rhythm and minimal melodic complexity, but the two hockets listed above, "Hoquetus I-II" and "Hoquetus David", demonstrate a much more thorough mastery of the technique. Most notably, they offer rhythmic complexity ("Hoquetus David" is in 9/4 time) -- the way in which the voices pop in and out at irregular intervals, it feels as if they're surprising me even when I know exactly what's coming next.

External Links: YouTube

S'on Me Regarde: Pop Sensibilities

Album: Music of the Gothic Era
Track: "S'on me regarde" (Track #3)
Composer: Anonymous
Instruments: 2 voices, fiddle, mandora, harp, psaltery
Year: ~1250

Another piece included in the Montpellier Codex, "S'on me regarde" is a French love song in motet form. Of what I've heard during my journey thus far, this song comes closest to what I think of as a "traditional" song; that is, the sort of thing I might have sung in summer camp or high school french class. The tune is catchy and, interestingly, either of the two vocal parts could be argued to carry the melody. One can imagine that the composers of this time would have had only the crudest notion of how to write effective accompaniment -- perhaps here they chose to simply write another melody line to accompany the first, we can only guess. Either way, the result is impressive and I'm not aware of any equivalent in modern music.

External Links: YouTube

Amor Potest: Honking Geese

Album: Music of the Gothic Era
Track: "Amor Potest" (Track #2)
Composer: Anonymous
Instruments: 2 voices, 1 shawm
Year: ~1250

Although I dug up many gems on my Hopeless Journey, "Amor Potest" was not one of them. Music of the Gothic Era is a diverse collection of motets spanning the medieval periods of ars antiqua (~1170 - 1310) and ars nova (1310 - 1375). This particular motet was included in the Montpellier Codex, a vast collection of French polyphony from the ars antiqua period that consisted of only anonymous works. Although it may have passed for creative composition in medieval times -- perhaps some ancient equivalent of "Love Shack" -- it sounds to me more like the triangulation honks of a gaggle of Canada geese migrating south for the winter. The techniques used, such as the staccato rhythmic interplay between voices, are fresh to my ears and if it weren't for their more effective use in later motets in this collection, I would be inclined to say that I hold an unfair prejudice against them. However, after many listens I still feel that the composition is overly simplistic and borderline annoying.

External Links: YouTube