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

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

A Final Note on the Troubadours

Album: Music of the Middle Ages, Vol. 1: Troubadour and Trouvere Songs
Track: "Ples de tristor, marritz e doloiros" (Track #2)
Composer: Guiraut Riquier
Instruments: 1 voice, 1 viol
Musical Form: Troubadour song
Year: ~1200

Although much romanticized even in modern culture, I believe that the essence of troubadour music is much further from our grasp than we might think. Even if we disregard all of the uncertainties in its arrangement (discussed in detail in Troubadour Shmoubadour), those of us not fluent in Occitan, the language in which troubadour music was written, will still be deprived of the imagery that accompanies good lyric poetry. Fans of the 20th century troubadours, those of us with an appreciation of Bob Dylan and Niel Young, understand that the impact of good folk music is rooted in these images. Although we might have access to translations of 13th century troubadour lyrics, their words will never have the same impact on us that they had on their contemporaries. Even a crash course in Occitan would likely not be sufficient -- words mean much more than what they refer to and without proper context, their spirit is lost.

The track I refer to above shouldn't necessarily be listened to in full -- it's only meant to illustrate my point. At over 12 minutes in length, "Ples de tristor, marritz e doloiros" feels repetitive and drab after around the fifth stanza. The melody is sweet and gentle -- it certainly offers more to the casual listener than the Gregorian Chant -- but we are still left wondering how it might have sounded to a 13th century ear. The troubadours are an important stage in the development of medieval music, but I wouldn't recommend them to a modern listener searching for anything more than ambient music.

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

Music of the Troubadours: Troubadour Shmoubadour

Album: Music of the Troubadours
Year: 1100 - 1350

There is an endless debate among musicians, music theorists, and music historians about the value of authenticity in performances of old music. Is it best to perform the music as the composer originally envisioned it or should one include modern elements that will make it more palatable to the audiences of our time? This question has featured prominently in my Hopeless Journey, as I'm often forced to choose between renditions of Medieval music, each of which puts its own spin on old formula. Most such recordings will restrict themselves to instruments that were available at the time the music was written, but the performance itself is often improvisational, as is the chosen combination of instruments. Such is the case with Music of the Troubadours, a collection of old troubadour songs performed with everything from bagpipes to reed-flutes. Now you don't have to be a music historian to figure out that these performances are lacking in authenticity, but the real question is, does that matter? Can't we just enjoy the music for what it is?

No, I can't, and I think it's easy to see why -- these songs were written the way they were because of the limitations in accompaniment. How can we be expected to enjoy the lament of troubadour who has lost his castle when his poem is being drowned out by the buzzing and jangling of a cadre of overzealous 20th century musicians? It's true that my stated goal of immersing myself in ancient music is not necessarily shared by the average listener, but these "creative" additions may as well have included a computer-generated disco beat for all the good it did for the music.

I'm still determined to explore the music of the troubadours, but after listening to this recording a few times I decided that I'll have to look elsewhere. I found a more promising recording in Music of the Middle Ages, Vol. 1: Troubadour and Trouvere Songs and I'll post about it in the coming weeks.