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.

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.

All I Can Expect

I recently discovered that Allmusic.com has compiled a virtual treasure trove of information on classical composers and even individual classical pieces, far beyond that found on wikipedia. The reviews are remarkably erudite considering the open nature of the source. Since I download most of my music from iTunes, I don't get any booklets with the music I buy, but the list of reviews on Answers.com is often a more than satisfactory substitute, as it usually contains historical context, musical analysis, and biographical information on the composer. Of course, I can't be sure that the information is accurate, but I expect it's close enough for those of us that aren't planning to write a thesis on the material. In the future, when I write about a particular composition, I'll try to include links to the reviews along with my blog entries (see "Related Links," below).

Related Links: Allmusic.com

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

Minnesang: A Troubadour Alternative

Album: Wanderers' Voices - Medieval Cantigas & Minnesang
Track: "Owê dirre nôt!" (Track #4)
Composer: Nedhart von Reuental
Instruments: 1 voice, 1 vielle
Musical Form: Minnesang
Year: ~1210 - 1240

Every now and then, I may feel the need to turn back the clock on my Hopeless Journey and revisit an earlier time period. My reasons will vary; sometimes I'll have simply overlooked something, while other times I may be backtracking to provide context for a future entry. Whatever my reasons, these posts will be framed in green to distinguish them from main flow of the Journey.

In A Final Note on Troubadours, I opined that troubadour music (and its close relatives) had little to offer the modern listener, primarily because we have lost much of the lyrical context and the music itself is fairly repetitive and simplistic. By and large, I will stand by that claim, but I thought it worthwhile to step back and review the Minnesingers, who are essentially the German equivalent of troubadours. Up to now, Germany has not been represented in my posts and I want to make sure I take a relatively even sampling of music from the European continent, at least to the extent that it's availbable to musical historians.

One thing I immediately notice when I listen to the Minnesingers is the way in which the differences in language affect the sound of the music. Unlike in French or Occitan, German words are pronounced with a great deal of inflection. When used in lyrics, this inflection creates a pronounced sense of rhythm a sense of rhythm that is very much independent of the musical structure. Some of the Minnesinger lyrics may sound a bit goofy at first, but this cultural bias passes quickly. Overall, I think the exaggerated rhythm of the poetry adds to the music.

The song structure of the Minnesinger compositions is very similar to that of the troubadours, though they have a distinct melodic feel. In "Owê dirre nôt!" one gets a very wistful feeling from the piece, no doubt reinforced by the final cadence, which ends on the mediant (the third in the scale, "mi" in "do-re-mi") rather than the tonic. If you enjoy troubadour music and are looking for a simple variation on that familiar theme, then Minnesang might be worth a look.

Related Links: YouTube, Minnesang

Medieval Instrumentation: Without a Voice

I've always considered myself a musician, but the instruments I use (guitar and piano) are largely a mystery to me. I know some basics about how they work and how to maintain and care for them, but don't even think of asking me about the differences between individual designs or models. For me, the most interesting part of music has always been its composition and, as such, most of my musical experiments have been devoted to songwriting. Some of this prejudice may have crept into my blog entries as well since, to date, I haven't written any blog entries that discuss medieval instrumentation or instrumental notation. However, this is in large part due to the fact that there is very little evidence of how instruments were used in that era, with instrumental notation only being invented at the end of the period. We do know that instrumental accompaniment to vocal pieces was commonplace, particularly in secular music, but it was believed to be largely improvisational in nature.

Many of the basic types of instruments were already in use in the middle ages, including plucked (lute, harp, mandora, gittern, psaltery), bowed (fiddle, rebec, lyra), wind (shawm, cornett, recorder, pan flute), and percussion (tabor). Furthermore, organs were in extensive use in churches and were often extremely complex in design. Despite this panoply of available instrumentation, the lack of instrumental notation or a description of their use in performances leaves much to guesswork when reproducing medieval music. Many of the recordings I've reviewed have included instrumental accompaniment, but because we don't really know how these instruments were used, I've focused on the structure and feel of the vocal parts.

I'll continue in this vein in the short term -- devoted instrumental compositions don't appear until the middle of the Renaissance period. As a compromise, however, I've included the instrumentation in the headers of my past blog posts (at least, in those referring to specific recordings). If nothing else, it's worth revisiting these recordings to hear what the individual instruments sounded like and what means of expression were available to medieval composers. My prejudice need not be yours.

Medieval Minimalism: Polyphony in the Shape of a Square

Album: Music in the Shape of a Square
Track: "Piece in the Shape of a Square" (Track #3)
Composer: Philip Glass
Instruments: 2 flutes
Year: 1967

The purpose of my Hopeless Journey is not just to collect listenable tracks from ancient composers, but also to connect the music of days gone by with that of the present -- to help me better understand the music of my own time. Therefore, I will occasionally include blog entries on contemporary music (framed in blue, like this one), making explicit reference to the connections between these modern works and their humble predecessors.

In one of my first posts, Sederunt Principes and Rhythmic Modes, I mentioned how the repetitive structures in Pérotin's work had been an influence on modern minimalist composers. Philip Glass, perhaps the most famous minimalist composer of them all, takes a page from the works of the Notre Dame School of Polyphony with, "Piece in the Shape of a Square." Although not restricted to the simplistic rhythmic modes that dominated Pérotin's work, the slow and subtle shifts in Glass' repeated structures are reminiscent of the undulating patterns of "Sederunt Principes." Almost as striking is the harmonizing of the two flutes, which remain in unison or an octave apart for most of the piece, much like the early Notre Dame polyphony.

The Hopeless Journey: A Modern Music Lover's Journey Through the History of Western Music

"I think I'm approaching a complete knowledge of music," said a certain friend of mine whose identity I will take to the grave. "Is that so, Tiberius," I said, "then what about the Beatles and Radiohead?" A look of disdain crossed his face as he carefully formulated his response. "Music that matters," he said.

Poor taste aside, this exchange got me thinking about the limitations of my own musical experience. What about those genres of music that I had completely written off? For that matter, what about the cultural and musical origins of my favorite artists? Surely they have something to offer me. As it turned out, my failure to grasp Tiberius' use of hyperbole as a rhetorical device had inadvertently led me down a path of destiny. No ordinary path of destiny, mind you, but one so absurd and tedious that its only likely claim to a destiny was one of abject failure. As such, I will call this, "The Hopeless Journey."

The Hopeless Journey is my attempt to explore the entire history of western music, or at least the important parts of it... that we know about... and that I can purchase on iTunes in some form. Although I'm sure to give up on this quest in the very near future, I will share with you here its beginnings. Clearly, it would make little sense to structure these "reviews" in the traditional sense, as I'm no more qualified to judge the quality of a medieval motet than I am qualified to compete in the 200m wheelchair dash at the Special Olympics. As such, rather than try to ask, "How good is this music?", I will try to answer the question, "What does this music have to offer me?" By "me", here, I of course mean "myself". Any resemblance the content of this blog has to the value the music might have to, say, "you", is purely coincidental.