Kalenda Maya: You Can Dance if You Want To

Album: The Dante Troubadours
Track: "Kalenda Maya" (Track #11)
Composer: Raimbaut de Vaqueiras
Musical Form: Dance music, Troubadour song
Year: ~1200

One of the difficulties with listening to dance music is that is wasn't really meant to just be listened to. I know, dance music isn't supposed to be deep -- I'm supposed to let the rhythm of the music carry me away. Problem is, it always takes me somewhere boring. I was hoping that something I found on my Hopeless Journey would free me of this prejudice, but so far I've been unimpressed.

One of the earliest recorded examples of dance music is "Kalenda Maya," a song with lyrics written by a troubadour called Raimbaut de Vaqueiras (no relation to John Rambo, I think). The melody was composed by some long-forgotten jongleur who fancied plucking triple-meter ditties for drunk Frenchmen for naught but a swig of brandy... or somesuch. Thing is, dance music was seldom written down in medieval times because it wasn't considered important enough. The troubadours would tell you that if a jongleur could compose a danceable melody, anybody could. Regardless, this one was written down because a troubadour decided to put poetry to it and make it respectable. I'm not sure they succeeded, but I'll let you judge that for yourself.

The type of dance that this song was written for was the estampie, in which the dancer either dances with only one foot or stamps both feet... etymologists aren't quite sure which (I wonder who got a Ph.D. for that). Anyway, the dance is a close relative of the Saltarello, a medieval dance that appeared in Italy in the 13th century that gets a good bit of attention in modern popular culture. One notable recording of a Saltarello is by Dead Can Dance, an '80s group famous for popularizing "world music."

For the time being, I can't recommend spending a lot of time on saltarellos or estampies, but this may change as I delve into the Renaissance. Gutenberg invented his printing press in 1440, and the standards for what was considered worthy of being written down dropped significantly. Perhaps the propagation of written dance music even brought it to the level of an art form...

External Links: YouTube

Cantigas de Amigo: The Gender-Confused Jongleur

Album: Wanderers' Voices - Medieval Cantigas & Minnesang
Track: "Cantigas de amigo" (Track #11-17)
Composer: Martin Codax
Instruments: 1 vielle, 1 voice
Musical Form: Cantiga
Year: ~1230 - 1300

Not everyone who listens to the Beatles' recording, "Please Mister Postman" (a song from their Cavern Club days that made it onto With the Beatles), realizes that the original version of the song was written from the point of view of a woman. The song was first released as a single by the Marvelettes in 1961 and laments the tragedy of a woe begotten girl whose boyfriend is away at war. Desperate for word from her beau, she implores the postman for comfort, with "just a card... or just a letter." Alas, the song ends with her unanswered pleas fading into the distance... If you're familiar with the Beatles' recording, this image likely never entered your mind, as the fab four deftly transformed it into a fast-paced power pop number, with guitars ringing and John Lennon belting out the now pronoun-reversed lyrics.

It's likely that the song's message was of little concern to the Beatles, since pop music was seldom written to be poetic in 1963 (the Beatles would later help to change this, but that's for another post). Even today, it's not uncommon for pop standards to have their pronouns changed to suit the vocalist in question. What is uncommon, however, is for a vocalist to sing from the point of view of a member of the opposite sex. Nevertheless, this is exactly what Spanish jongleurs did in the 13th century when performing one of the most popular musical forms, the cantiga de amigo.

In short, a cantiga de amigo is a love song in the voice of a woman. Women seldom performed music in the 13th century, so it seems likely that it was the jongleurs themselves (all male) who performed these pieces. The recording in question features seven cantigas de amigo, all composed by Martim Codax, and in the manuscripts from which these pieces are drawn, they always appear in the same order. This suggests that it may have composed a coherent work of art or perhaps a performance set list. The songs have some of the most beautiful monophonic melodies that I've heard from medieval music, so I highly recommend them to the interested listener. Perhaps the Beatles should have taken a cue from these ancient minstrals -- there is no shame in voicing a woman.

Related Links: Book of translated cantigas de amigo lyrics

Reis Glorios: The Morning After, Courtly Love and the Walk of Shame

Album: Music of the Middle Ages, Vol. 1: Troubadour and Trouvere Songs
Track: "Reis Glorios" (Track #1)
Composer: Giraut de Bornelh
Instruments: 1 voice, 1 viol
Musical Form: Troubadour song
Year: ~1200

In Troubadour Shmoubadour, I explained my feelings about bastardized versions of medieval troubadour music and how they were ruining our culture... or something like that. In Music of the Middle Ages, Vol. 1, the performers duck my wrath with their stripped-down renditions of ancient chansons. In this volume, they truly capture the romantic aesthetic inherent in the music and poetry of troubadours, accompanying the vocalist with a single stringed instrument (a viol) that may or may not have resembled the instruments used by the troubadours of the time. Troubadour music is mostly about courtly love; that is, rich people comitting adultery. Despite the popular myth of the troubadour strapping an instrument to his back and traveling from town to town, troubadours were themselves mostly rich people, working in the courts of kings and lords. The myth is a more accurate description of the "jongleurs", who were essentially poor one-man cover bands and were often the subject of scorn and ridicule in troubadour poetry.

The author of "Reis Glorios", Giraut de Bornelh, actually began his life poor, but developed a reputation as the "Master of Troubadours" and was especially renowned for his ability to craft beautiful melodies to surround his poetry. Only four melodies survive, including that for "Reis Glorios." This song describes the coming of morning for a pair of adulterers who have just spent the night together. Presumably one or the other is preparing to take the walk of shame to their respective dwelling and isn't really looking forward to it. Although I can't really blame them, I'm glad that their infidelity was captured in song, as this really is a beautiful piece worthy of a listen. Troubadour music is all monophonic and tends to be very repetitive if you don't understand what they're singing about, but this one stands well on its own.

External Links: YouTube