Medieval Christian Art: Vestiges of Earlier Times

Ancient Formal Elements

The art of ancient world offered the early Christians a wealth of formal models which they could modify and use to define their culture. The formal aspects of the models were absorbed but, in the process, the models became new icons with new meanings.

Several characteristics from ancient art are notable. In Egyptian bas relief, the artist did not portray the human figure naturalistically. Instead he depicted each part of the body from its most definitive view. Legs and arms were shown from the side view while the trunk was viewed from a full-frontal vantage point. No attempt was made to create a sense of depth of field, or illusion of "foreground-background" relationship. Here the artist worked from what he knew, not what he saw. The result was an idealized abstraction of human form, an icon whose parts reaffirmed and validated the Egyptian concept of the body. Other figures, such as birds, were similarly reduced, condensed, and abstracted. The Egyptian artist did not concern himself with relative proportions.


Portrait Panel of Hesy-ra, from Saqqara, c2650 B.C., example of Egyptian bas relief

The abstraction of form in Egyptian bas relief did not carry over into Greek or Roman painting or sculpture. The aim of the Greeks was clearly the visual celebration, not cerebration, of the beauty, power, and drama of the human body. Naturalistic rendering better suited their purpose. Whereas the Greeks portrayed gods and atheletes, the Romans built upon the Greek style by adding specific identities to their busts.


"Portrait of a Roman," dated c80 B.C.

The different needs for meaning of each society determined, of course, the nature of the realization. For the Egyptians, the figuration represented man on a fundamental level, a kind of self-validation of order. For the Greeks, the figuration offered a model of beauty and power. The embrace of beauty was far more than just sensual. The figuration conveyed visually the standard of physical conditioning to which each citizen should aspire, a physical prowess absolutely essential to survival in a world of city-states and empire-building. The Roman addition of the facial features of leaders aggrandized these leaders and helped to institutionalize them in a state larger than life.

Rome left its mark throughout the Mediteranean world and Europe in the institutions it founded. Visibly, it used the city gate and the arch as its trademark. Although the arch represents an engineering advance, it was distilled into a standardized symbol in Roman architecture. Viaducts used it, though as much for its structural strength as for its aesthetic value. The dome is simply the arch pulled around a central point. Nowhere did it have such symbollic value, however, as in the gate. To enter a Roman city, a traveler had to pass through an arch. Frequently smaller arched alcoves, one on each side of the gate, would contain busts of the Emperor, his wife, or the son in line to succeed him.



The Market Gate from Miletus, example of Roman gate, c160 A.D.

European Christian Application: Changes in Symbollic Meaning

European Christian architecture incorporated the arch. Although used in the context of their religion, the evocation of the power of ancient Rome, and the transfer of that power to the kingdom of God, was undeniable. European architects used it as a primary aesthetic and engineering component of their churches, and artisans used it as the frame in manuscript illuminations, altar frontispieces, stained-glass windows, and book covers. By fortuitous coincidence, the Roman gate had three arches in its layout, a number of immense value to the younger culture's central symbol, the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit).

The significance of the arch as a portal is paramount to understanding its meaning in the Christian belief system. One enters the church, "God's house," through the portal of the arch. Inside the ceiling might consist of a tunnel created by extending arch in its depth. The altar itself is framed by another arch, and the portal created by this arch over the altar is the one that leads through true belief to the afterlife. On a side note, the most churches, then and now, have the cross as the footprint of their floor plans.


Santa Maria de Naranco, completed 848, exterior view



Santa Maria de Naranco, interior view

The two architectural examples presented here, one Carolingen, the other Gothic, are separated in time by three hundred years. Another architectural style, Ottonian, enjoyed currency in the intervening centuries. All three styles display the features described above, the arch of Roman might now imbued with the meaning of God's omnipotence and promise.

Chartres Cathedral

Between the time of the rule of Charlemagne in the ninth century and the high Gothic in the fourteenth, cathedrals grew dramatically in size and height. The cathedral played a special role in the religious and economic life of the Medieval community. The grand dimensions of the cathedral far exceeded any structure a layman could build. Once inside the front arched portal, the parishioner entered an "other-world." This "other-world" was filled with magnificent and expensive religious art, unusual light effects, sophisticated and ethereal music, "true" relics, and mysterious ritual. In brief, the rituals of belief inspired in the faithful a sense of spirituality, piety, and awe, and this emotional state was bolstered mightly by architecture on a scale so grand that it was difficult for the peasant layman to apprehend.

The cathedral could also add considerable monies to town coffers that relied primarily on aggrarian earnings. The cathedral became a source of revenue when it assumed significance as the destination point of religious pilgirmage. Size, aesthetics, music quality, and the quantity of sacred objects, such as relics, figured prominently in the success of the cathedral in attracting tourists.

The development of the flying buttress (see exterior view of Notre Dame in "Rise of Organum") permitted new architectural features. The buttresses absorded the load of the roof and diverted it outward, eliminating the need for the thick, heavy walls of earlier structures. Not only were thinner walls and considerably higher roofs made possible, but large areas of the wall could be replaced by stained-glass windows. The stained-glass windows profoundly improved the interior aesthetics. Earlier cathedrals had relatively lower ceilings. Their thick walls could safely accomodate only small windows. Inside, then, these structures were dark and gloomy. The high ceiling of the Gothic cathedral was itself a stunning achievement, and now the windows allowed multicolored light to set the vast interior space awash with light.


Chartres Cathedral, view of upper gallery windows

Moreover, the stained-glass windows fulfilled another critical function. The typical parishioner was illiterate. The windows were used to educate, and the scenes portrayed in the window designs were intentionally drawn from the Bible. The window designs themselves incorporated hundreds of shards of geometrically-shaped glass joined together at the ends by strips of lead. Similarly, the scenes were filled with abstract figures, recognizable in their identities by their activity, but not developed, as in ancient Greek or later Renaissance, Baroque and Romantic art, for their realism or beauty of human form. In a final but dangerous point, at least for this author, is the casual and unresearched suggestion that the halo and the Roman arch are not so disimilar.

Chartres Cathedral, detail depicting the "Death of the Virgin"

Icons for the Educated Class: Illuminated Manuscripts, Book Covers, and Altar Frontispieces


Not surprisingly, the arch and abstracted figuration found in Medieval architecture and stained-glass windows are also the prinicipal components in the art that adorned religious manuscripts of the period. All material items were made by hand. Books were copied by hand by monks in the monasteries for use in-house or by the literate members of the ruling families. Religious messages supplemental to the text could be conveyed in a variety of ways that also greatly enhanced the beauty and value of a manuscript. One common means, manuscript illumination, was the pictorial decoration of the first letter of the first word on a page. Another means involved scenes on the covers. Bookcovers were often carved from ivory or made from precious metals and studded with gemstones. The eqaution of power and wealth is a very old one.

The examples that follow span four hundred years, yet they all share common characteristics. One would expect to see some change in the artwork over so long a period of time. Indeed, if one visually ordered the examples on the basis of "evolution," the "Vespasian Psalter," the crudest realiztion of the set, would be placed first and the "Lorsch Gospels," the most naturalistic rendering, would be placed last. Different artisans in different regions worked to their own sensibilities, guided foremost by the tenet that the image must express a meaning that teaches, reminds, or reaffirms.

The Medieval world, then, was one ruled by symbols. Symbols pervaded every aspect of life and assumed a critical role. To moderns, the orientation toward symbology reveals a fundamental aspect of Medieval man's view of life. He lived outside the suffering of his everyday reality. He would be relieved in the afterlife and, in the meantime, he could glimpse the world to come in the intellectual, intermediate world created by the icons and signs that surrounded him.

As noted, the following manuscript illuminations have common elements. All of the examples are narrative in nature. The arch appears in some form in each example. There is no development of spatial relation within the field, that is, there is no effort to create the effect of "foreground-background." Although differing degrees of realism are found among the renderings of human form, all of them are essentially abstract. The characters are recognized by the scenes in which they are immersed or by ancilary features such as objects that a figure might hold. The open book, for example, was the symbol for the teacher. The degree of abstraction is apparent, even in the more naturalistic figuration of the Lorsch Gospels, in that the folds of the clothing define the body, not vice-versa. As in Egyptian art, scale is not important.


Gospel of St. Matthew, manuscript illumination




Lorsch Book Cover, Ivory, c810 (Museo Sacro, Vatican, Rome)



Vespasian Psalter (British Museum Cotton MS Vespian A, England, Canterbury, c800). David, Traditional Author of the Psalms with his Musicians



Gospel Lectionary (British Museum Egerton MS 809, Swabia, possibly Hirsau, c1100). The Ascension



Salvin Hours (British Museum Add. MS 48985, England Lincoln, possibly Oxford, c1270). Christ Before Pilate

The "Madonna in Majesty" is a painting. The gold paint contains real gold. Here the arch is abstracted into a point (review the interior view of Chartres Cathedral, above), but the flat field and abstracted figuration of earlier manuscript illuminations are still intentionally present.

Cimabue, Madonna in Majesty (Louvre, Paris; executed originally c1295-1300 for Church of St. Francis, Pisa, taken to France by Napoleon as spoils of war)

The Arch in Later Times

The subsequent examples date from the late Middle Ages and reflect the discoveries of perspective of Giotto (see Kamien). Curiously, the mathematics (geometry) that made the realization of perspective in art possible had been in place since the second century. "October" hints at the radical shift in art and society that Humanism (see "Humanism" in Renaissance Lectures) would shortly bring.

First, there is the perspective. The figures, though not well-developed by Renaissance standards (the clothing defines the body), make meaningful strides forward in gestures that are representative but also possess elements of realistic depiction. The figure on the right is sowing seeds for a winter crop, and the viewer can almost see the motion of his arm. Unlike the earlier images, this sower is not static.

Like the paintings to follow, however, the gesture conveys an activity of grace and refinement, not one of hot, tiring, dirty labor. The world in which this activity unfolds is one of tranquillity and purity, a significant shift in social attitudes since this world of tranquillity is earthly. Moreover, the Roman arch, by this time more a Christian symbol than an Imperial one, is interpreted in terms of the Zodiac. This arch, then, is not a portal to the Christian afterlife, but one to some small patch of peace, well-being, and relief on earth.


Limbourg Brothers. "October" from Les Tres riches <>heures du Duc de Berry, (1413-16)

"Madonna with Child and Saints" offers a curious study. First, the painting features perspective, but its execution is not convincing. The viewer sees three distinct fields instead of a graduated foreshortening that geometrically recedes into the horizon. The saints occupy the first plane, and the Madonna and Child define a second. personal plane not shared by any other figuration. The Roman arch, present in its most classic reiteration, is actually the agent of perspective.

Each of the figures holds a gesture, but only the second figure from the left expresses a "body language" that is dynamic or believable. The eye is drean to this figure instead of to the Madonna and Child, the supposed central figure. In part, the veiwer's eye is drawn to him because he wears fewer clothes than the other figures but, more importantly, because the his posture displays a natural relaxation and an element of motion.


Domenico Veneziano, Madonna and Child with Saints, c1445, Uffizi Gallery, Florence

The final examples date from the reign of Louis XIV, the "Sun King," of France. Louis's patronage and the consequent contributions to art, architecture, and music are unprecedented. The first example features the interior view of his chapel at Versailles; the second shows the interior of a "town house" belonging to a contemporary member of his aristocracy. In both examples the arch is the dominating visual element, but here it is no longer used to evoke the power of ancient Rome or the kingdom of God. Instead, the arch conveys its power upon its owner. During Louis' tenure, art and architecture in France would be intensely regulated by classical formalism and, as a consequence, the symbols and formal precepts of ancient Greece and Rome would begin to assume new meaning.

Under Napoleon, classical formalism would continue to be nourished. The ancient symbols would transfer to him as Emperor. Indeed, he would fill Paris with buildings that follow the formal models offered by the ancients. He would help to make Paris one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and in turn his influence would be felt to this day. Once freed from Christianity, the arch and other ancient architectural features would later serve governments. A quick perusal of the architecture of Washington, D.C., verifies this point, and the effect of this architecture is the same as it was on the Roman citizen.

Versailles, late seventeenth century, interior view of chapel



"Salon d'or" in the Paris house of Comte de Toulouse, late seventeenth century (now Banque de France)

The Ars Nova and the Transition to the Renaissance

Ars Nova

Significant strides in musical notation in the thirteenth century, ascribed to Franco of Cologne, permitted the indication in score of even finer and more independent rhythmic ideas than the system of rhythmic modes could accommodate. Modern concepts of meter have their origins in Franconian notation. Even greater strides, strides that would spell the end of the rhythmic modes, were made in the fourteenth century.

The movement derives its name, Ars nova, from the last sentence of a treatise by Philippe de Vitry (1291-1361). Ars nova, "New Art," came to denote the style of French music in the first half of the fourteenth century. The movement's contributions were twofold. The first concerned the acceptance on an equal footing of duple meter (regular groupings of two or four beats) alongside the traditional triple meter of the rhythmic modes. Although duple meter would seem more "perfect" to the modern mind because it is easily divisible into halves, the association of triple meter with the symbol of the Trinity, the "Father, Son, and Holy Spirit," generated resistance.

The second contribution concerned the inevitable division of the standard written note durations into increasingly shorter values. In modern terms, if the whole note equals four beats in duration, it can be divided into two notes of two beats each called half notes. The half note can in turn be divided into smaller units, yielding two notes of a single beat each called quarter notes. The quarter note can also be divided into two notes of half-beat durations called eighth notes. Triple divisions are also possible. For example, a half note, usually two beats, could be divided into thirds. The symbol for the quarter note would still appear to express the division, but the number "3" would be written above the group of three quarter notes to indicate the irregularity.

Isorhythm

The interest of Ars nova composers in the articulation of vastly different rhythmic and metric values also extended to the use of rhythm to plan and control with uniformity an entire composition. Isorhythm was a compositional technique that evolved to meet this need. Isorhythm contained two components, the talea and the color. The talea was a rhythmic pattern that was chosen and repeated throughout the piece. Similarly, the color was a set of notes treated in the same way. Although isorhythm was usually applied to the cantus firmus, it could also be used in other voices.

In composing, the notes of a cantus firmus could supply the color and a rhythm chosen to sing the notes. Upon repetition of the cantus firmus, the duration of the notes could be changed relative to the first statement but not relative to each other. If one sings do-re-mi-fa-mi-re-do and assigns four beats to each note, the talea and the color are established. If one sings the same notes but holds each note twice as long, then the talea has been modified isorhythmically. Here the ratios of duration from one note to the next have remained the same. The device is useful as a unifying element to the sections of the music, since each statement resembles the other, and avoids literal repetition of the material in the isorhythmic voice. Isorhythm is extremely subtle and often revealed by study of the score rather than by hearing. A principal composer who used the technique was Machaut.

Formes fixes

The formes fixes were used in song composition and were derived from contemporary poetic forms. The formes fixes featured repetition of both musical lines and some lines of text. New content was given as the music progressed, but each new verse of text was sung to one of the two lines of music already presented. To exemplify, the schemas of two of the formes fixes follow, the virelai and the rondeau. A third important form, the ballade, followed the scheme AAB. The primary chanson form in Italy, the ballata, is essentially a virelai.

The letters indicate different lines of music. Capital letters indicate that the text has not changed and the numbers that follow give the poetic line. In the example of the virelai, the "A" indicates a refrain, that is, the same line of music and the same text.

Virelai: A (1 2) b (3) b (4) a (5) A (1 2)

In the example of the rondeau, the A B sections that begin and end the form are the refrains. A partial refrain occurs at midpoint.

Rondeau: A (1 2) B (3) a (4 5) A (1 2) a (6 7) b (8) A (1 2) B (3)

Transition to the Renaissance: the Harmonic Advances of Dunstable, Dufay, and Ockegham
John Dunstable, an Englishman working in France in the early fifteenth century, is generally credited with a large role in the transmission from England to the continent of the intervals of the third and sixth as consonant intervals. A two-voice example of the new consonances is given in an exerpt from a hymn by Dunstable, Salve santa parens. The text has not been included. The intervals of the thirds and sixths are indicated between the systems. Likewise, the fauxbourdon is indicated (see definition given below).


John Dunstable, "Salve sancta aperns"

The adoption of these consonances by Burgundian composers Guillaume Dufay and Giles Binchois and the later Franco-Flemish composer Johannes Ockegham, set the stage for the evolution of a new musical entity, the chord. [A chord is formed when intervals of the third are stacked above a note. For example, a C chord results when an E note (C-E=3rd) and a G note (E-G=3rd) are sounded above a C note. The C note is called the root and lends its name to the chord]. A sixth results when the interval of a third is inverted. In this process, the lower note is moved an octave higher so that C below-E above becomes E below-C above]. Passages of consecutive sixths became a strong characteristic of the music as early as Dufay, and the passages became known as fauxbourdon. Fauxbourdon remained a feature of music through the sixteenth century. The passages of parallel sixths, or fauxbourdon, can be seen below in Dufay's Gloria. They are found in measures 4-5, mm. 7-8, m. 11, mm. 14-15, and mm. 19-20.
(Right click to better view the image).

Dufay, Gloria from "Si la face ai pale"


When studying the score, consider that the "8" that appears below the clef sign on the second system indicates that the line is an octave lower than written Hence when counting the sixth actually counts out visually as a third and vice-versa.The fifteenth-century composer recognized that thirds and sixths added a sweetness to the music that was lacking in compositions from earlier centuries, yet did not recognize, as we do today, stacked thirds as entities containing specific identities and specific functions. Vestiges of fauxbourdon abound in modern music, particularly the popular song.

Fauxbourdon Vestiges in 16th Century Lute Music

Term and Study Guide for Ancient, Early Christian, and Medieval

Accomplishments of Mesopotamia and Babylonians

Uses of music within these ancient cultures

State of music theory in Mesopotamian and Babylonian cultures

Enheduanna

hymn

Types of Instruments

Monophony

Heterophony

Pythagoras

Aristotle and Plato

Doctrine of Ethos (or Imitation, whichever pleases you)

Harmonia

Aristoxneus

Ptolemy and Cleonides

Octave Species, tonoi, echoi

Lyre

Kithara

Harp

Aulos

Apollo and Dionysus and their symbolism

centonization

motif or motive

Constantine and establishment of Christianity as state religion

Byzantium

Constantinople

Dates of division Eastern and Western Empires and significance of split

Elements of Jewish worship carried into Christianity

Church calendar

Offices (names and rough times of at least two services)

Mass 

Proper (function and musically significant portions Introit, Alleluia, and Communion) 

Ordinary of the Mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus Dei)

Meanings or ritual function these Mass portions

plainsong, chant, Gregorian chant

chant text origins

syllabic, neumatic, and melismatic setting

direct, responsorial, and antiphonal

Likely characteristics, language, and possible musical forms of each musically significant portion of the Mass 

Psalm Tones

Antiphon

Fall of Rome and significance of Significance of invasions of Hordes to Western Culture (names of a few of these tribes)

Capella and Boethius

Trivium

Quadrivium

Pope Gregory I

Pope Gregory II

Pepin the Short

Charlemagne

Guido D'Arezzo (not a book) and his contributions

Micrologus (book)

Authentic modes

Differences authentic and plagal modes

trope

sequence

liturgical drama

Wipo of Burgundy

Hildegard von Bingen

Alleluia

Alleluia jubilis

Possible origins of organum

Parallel organum

Aquitane organum

cantus firms and cantus firmus technique

Notre Dame School

Perotin

Leonin

organum purum

discant

rhythmic modes

motet

Franco of Cologne

Franconian notation

Ars Nova

Philippe de Vitry

Guillaume de Machaut

Messe de Notre Dame 

Isorhythm and components

formes fixes

Francesco Landini

Jacopo da Bologna

madrigal

monophonic and polyphonic conductus (and relationship to sequence)

estampie (relationship to sequence)

Cult of Mary and chivalry

Goliards

Menestrals

Troubadors and Trouveres (regions, linguistic differences, station in society)

Minnesingers

Guilds

The Social and Educational Underpinning of the Renaissance: Humanism

The Rise of Humanism

The humanist movement actually had its origin in late fourteenth-century classical studies, a discipline which included grammar, rhetoric, poetry, history, and moral philosophy. Indeed, all humanist studies sprang from the classical literature of Greece and Rome, and a profusion of newly discovered or translated manuscripts fueled this new study.

Humanist methodology differed significantly from that of the medieval world. Classical thought supplied a means to study the world in a systematic, objective way that eliminated preconceived notions. Here direct experience furnished the tools of gathering. Conclusions could be verified by logic and held to comparison with models furnished by ancient history and philosophy. The profound effect of humanism upon Western culture is evident in the rise of modern science, social science, and historical method.

Humanism also embodied the development of all human virtue, not only qualities of kindness, mercy, and understanding, but also qualities that had public application. These qualities included judgment, prudence, eloquence, honor, and fortitude. In the Renaissance, the humanist was obligated to public participation to reform society and culture to the fullest of human potentiality. Hence humanism required a combination of education and action, and the realization of the individual was expected to project outward from him through his actions to the realization of the society and the state. That successful or able members of society contribute to the improvement of society through public service is a tenet that exists to this day.

The investigation of the elements that make humans human, conducted from an impartial viewpoint, was central to humanism. First and foremost, humanists asserted the dignity of man and his activities. They did not shy, however, from critical examination of his frailties, doubts, moral shortcomings, or folly. Social reform did not result from remaking man, but from reshaping social order in light of his nature. Humanist critical assessment freed the individual from preconceived and inherited institutions and programs, but it placed responsibility of thought, action, and choice squarely upon his shoulders.

Francesco Petrarca

The role of Francesco Petrarca (1307-74), or Petrarch, in the rise of humanism was profound and inestimable. His contributions were manifold. For one, he actively encouraged the discovery, recovery, and translation of classical texts, so providing the model and the impetus for generations of scholars to follow. As an ordained priest, he promoted humanism as an alternative to medieval barbarism, and propounded that humanism, based upon classical writings, and Christianity were mutually fulfilling. His letters and prose works developed the ideas that became central doctrine to the later movement. Preeminent among them were the ideas of moral autonomy, awareness of experience, adherence to reason and nature, and the supreme value of human virtue.

As a poet, Petrarch's secular, vernacular poetry proved Italian as a viable literary language alongside Latin and Greek and the sonnet a highly expressive poetic vehicle. He maintained that poetry promoted virtue and was the vessel of hidden truth. His sonnets were the prototype for all subsequent Renaissance lyric and the standard by which all subsequent poetry would be judged. Modeled after Dante, Petrarch's sonnets inspired those of Pietro Bembo and the epics of later important writers such as Ariosto and Tasso.

Pietro Bembo

Many of the key components of humanist education were in place by the turn of the fifteenth century, and schools that embraced its tenets were established in Italy. Curricula included arts and sciences, Latin literature and composition, Greek literature, Quintilian rhetoric, and Roman history. Additional subjects included music, drawing, and astronomy. Athletics were also incorporated as a key element. The advent of printing and the upsurge of writing in the vernacular helped greatly in the dissemination of humanist thought not only to the Italian society at large, but also to other parts of Europe, where humanist education became established and widespread by the sixteenth century.

Commercial printing also proved to be a boon to music, and editions of amateur music to be used in the home, embracing both vocal and instrumental music, became widespread in their availability. More importantly, printing made other social upheavals possible. The ideas of Martin Luther, the author of the Reformation, could not have effectively or quickly spread without printing. Not surprisingly, the number of Bibles printed in the sixteenth century easily eclipsed the combined number of all other volumes on other subjects.

Pietro Bembo (1470-1547), who served as cardinal from the 1530s, was, like Petrarch, a champion of the vernacular. To this end, he was among the first to write an Italian grammar. His lyric poetry in the vernacular contributed significantly to the establishment of Italian as a literary language. Bembo's poetry was of the highest quality. He modeled it so closely upon the Petrarchan sonnet that his imitation became known as "bembismo." The wide dissemination of Bembo's poetry and new editions of Pertrach assured the acceptance of the sonnet as a principal humanist poetic form. The sonnet also became the wellspring of texts for the important new music genre of the sixteenth century, the madrigal.

Josquin and Pervasive Imitation

Theoretical Advances: Josquin and Pervasive Imitation

Josquin Desprez (c1440-1521) was an important figure in the promotion of a radical new treatment of the cantus firmus. From the organum of the tenth century to Josquin, composers used a preexisting melody as the basic of their musical compositions. In the case of improvised organum, the composers of Notre Dame, and Machaut and the mass composers of the Ars nova, the melody was a chant drawn from the musical liturgy. Church law forbade changes to the notes of the melody or the text. Later composers sometimes adapted melodies from other sources such as popular song, yet they continued to treat the song melody as if it were a chant.

To make the borrowed melody, or cantus firmus, viable as the superstructure of a musical movement, composers held each note significantly longer than in the original rendering. In addition, the line was placed in a lower part, first the lowest voice and later the tenor. Other faster-moving lines were composed around the borrowed melody. With the notes of the borrowed melody protracted and the borrowed melody itself embedded in a highly complex polyphonic texture, it became very difficult to recognize.

In the music of Josquin, the cantus firmus is retained in its original form. Rather than disguise the melody, Josquin treated each phrase of the melody as the subject of imitation (canon, as in "Row, Row, Row Your Boat"). The melody no longer remained confined to the tenor but was presented in turn in canon in each voice. Moreover, fragments of the melody were allowed to migrate, even in non-canonic sections, through all the voices. The resulting texture was one in which canonic expositions alternated with free polyphony. Each phrase of the borrowed melody is used as the basis of a new canonic exposition, and each new exposition marks a new section of the composition. The term "pervasive imitation" describes both the compositional technique and the musical texture. An exerpt of the "Gloria" of Josquin's Missa pange lingua. The first section is constructed by imitating a single sublect. The second section, given incomplete in the example, is cinstructed siilarly but on a new subject. The third and last section, not given in score, follows the same procedure using yet another subject. The entrances are marked.

Josquin, Kyrie, "Missa pange lingua" (Right click to view score)

Fifteenth-Century Composers and Their Imitative Prototypes

Pervasive imitation was a technique of immense sophistication. In earlier compositions, particularly those of Dufay, the music unfolded in long sections of free polyphony, anchored by a long-note, embedded, unrecognizable cantus firmus. Dufay used canon in his polyphonic compositions of the early fifteenth century, but not in an extensive way. In Dufay's work, short canonic expositions usually appear at the beginning of new sections or phrases, and the subject of each canon is only a few notes in length. The expositions usually involve only two voices. Free polyphonic passages begin in each voice as soon as the fragment of the subject is stated.

Dufay unified his works, however, by the use of motives which he embedded in each voice part. The motives invariably derive from the most recognizable part of the cantus firmus melody, the opening notes. The motives could be used to generate new but related ones by adding notes to the intial motive, inversion, or sequence. In inversion, the basic idea is in a mirror image. If the motive, as in this case, descends stepwise four notes, the inversion ascends stepwise four notes. In sequence, the mitve is given intact but starts on a note other than the original motive. The musical texture then contains the cantus firmus superstructure in the tenor voice, and other voice parts woven around it that contain occasional short canons but are saturated with motives dervied from the opening notes of the cantus firmus.


Canonic fragments in "Si la face ai pale"

Ockegham also used canon and was a master of it, but his application was so subtle and understated that the listener did not apprehend canonic sections even as they unfolded. In the music of Josquin, the canons are deliberate and obvious, and attention is paid that the identity of the cantus firmus is not obscured.

In application, Dufay and his fifteenth-century contemporaries most often restricted imitative procedures to occasional important structural points such as section beginnings. The imitative subjects could be derived from the cantus firmus but, often, they were formulated to fit the cantus firmus without drawing their contours from it. The subjects were generally recognizable only in their opening notes, even if the subject was protracted. In this usage, then, the opening notes function as an identifiable motive before continuing in free polyphony. Nonetheless, one finds a more systematic and logical application of motives then in chant, early organum, or the isorhythmic music of the Ars nova.

Franco-Flemish Chanson and the Fantasia

Pervasive Imitation and the Chanson Exemplified

In the pervasive imitation of Josquin, the listener is given clear references to the borrowed melody with each new canonic exposition. The technique was applied to the most serious composition of the day, the motet, but was so successful that it found application in the Franco-Flemish chansons of the first half of the sixteenth century as well as the fantasia. Texts that talk about love in French rather than Latin furnish the first clue that the music is a chanson, not a motet. Other than the text, the most significant differences between the chanson and the motet are the faster tempo, shorter overall duration, and freely composed musical subjects of the chanson.

In the chanson, the composer invented his own themes rather than importing them from existing music. Most often, the subjects that were used in the imitative expositions of a chanson were variants of the initial one.

In the chanson, the composer invented his own themes rather than importing them from existing music. Most often, the subjects that were used in the imitative expositions of a chanson were variants of the initial one. The analysis that follows is presented with permission of the publisher from my Chansons of the 16th Century: Franco-Flemish and Parisian Chansons Printed by Pierre Attaingnant (Pacific, MO: Mel Bay, 2002). The chanson to be studied, "Vive la Marguerite" or "Long Live the Daisy," appeared in a print dating from 1529. It beautifully exemplifies both pervasive imitation and the spinning-out of new subjects from a single original.

Franco Flemish Chanson "Vive la Marguerite"

The motive that constitutes the subject appears as the first seven notes in the soprano voice. It is followed in close imitation immediately in the alto and bass voices. Two new variants appear even before the bass has finished its statement. The first variant is found in the alto voice in measure 3 and contains the interval of the third of the initial subject. The second variant appears in the soprano voice of measure 4 as the interval of the inverted third. A third variant appears in a new exposition beginning as the upward leap and subsequent descending scale beginning in the second half of measure 4 and continuing in an exposition that ends in measure. Here the subject is given in inversion, expanded the interval to a fourth, and presented in faster note values. Even as the exposition finishes, the original subject appears in the soprano beginning in measure 7.

A fourth variant appears in the soprano in measure 9. Its opening leap is derived from the second half of measure 4. The variant continues from measure 9 in a protracted version of the variant that appeared in the soprano at measure 5. At the same time, the original subject is presented in the bass in measures 9-10 and supports the same subject in parallel thirds in the alto above. The variant that is found in the soprano at measure 9 is answered in the bass at measures 11-12. A fifth variant, a hybrid, enters in the second half of measure 15 and is answered in the next measure in the soprano. The same exposition repeats in measures 20-21. The ascending scale of the original subject enters in the bass in measure 22. A refrain begins at measure 25. With it comes an exposition on a final variant of the initial subject, a strong echo of the starting idea in its texture and formality. The exposition is followed in measure 27 by another, the nearly literal repeat of the exposition found beginning in the second half measure 4.

The Wordless Motet or Chanson: the Fantasia

The fantasia was an instrumental composition for lute, harpsichord, and sometimes small ensemble. It was, for all practical purposes, a motet or chanson composed without a text and with special consideration to the idiom of the instrument. The fantasia remained immensely popular throughout the sixteenth century. Fantasias appeared in print sources or copied by amateur and professional musicians into their household manuscripts into the early seventeenth century. The fantasia owed its long currency to its artistic merit but also to its use as a tool in humanist education.

The technique of pervasive imitation not only permitted some of the most sophisticated and intellectually satisfying music of the day, but also set a standard for musical composition that church officials, music theorists, and scholars declared worthy of emulation and study. It became known as the "learned style."

Frottola and Chordal Texture: Bass Frameworks and the Parisian Chanson

Theoretical Advances: the Frottola and Chordal Texture

As noted, the acceptance and incorporation use of thirds and sixths as consonant intervals beginning in the early fifteenth century by Dunstable, Dufay, Binchois, and Ockegham, set the stage for the emergence of the chord. By the late fifteenth century, early evidence of the slow process of recognition of chord identity and function began to appear in Italian songs. The frottola, a type of popular song that evolved from canti carnascialeschi, or Italian carnival songs, featured a new texture. Here the music consisted of a single strong melody over block chords. The music was also sung in simple repeated stanza, or strophic, form. Petrucci, the earliest music printer, included frottole in his first collection dating from 1501, including pieces by Marco Cara (c1470-c1525). Between 1504 and 1514, Petrucci printed no fewer than eleven books devoted exclusively to frottole. The lowly frottola, or, more importantly, its chordal texture had an impact on Western music that is felt today. An example follows.

Frottola

Bass Frameworks and Dance Music

The next step of evolution is found in manuscripts from the same period. One important manuscript, a late fifteenth-century Spanish song collection called the Cancionero de Palacio, uses specific, standardized chord progressions to support important sections of the different songs in which they appear, such as refrains. The progressions elicited positive but intuitive responses in the listener that other contemporary progressions did not. Early sixteenth-century lutenist-composers, working extensively with dance music, adopted the most successful of the chord progressions, invented new ones, and incorporated them all into their music.

Both the lute and its dance music played a critical role in chord evolution. The technical demands and musical range of the lute make chords easier to play than polyphonic textures. Dance required clear phrases, regular metric structure, and the capability to signal pauses, section ends, and the like in order to dovetail in a practical way with dance choreography. Polyphonic music was not well suited to the lute or to dance, but short, strophic compositions with frottola texture and form fit easily. Because dance music of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and early eighteenth century is essentially chordal in texture, it may be regarded as an important instrumental descendant of the frottola.

These sixteenth-century chord progressions are known today as bass frameworks. As formal entites, they were used as the superstructures of musical compositions in the same way the supporting chords of modern Blues do not vary from one song to the next. Although each blues song features a different text and melody, the chord progressions remain unchanged. Another example is found in the "Doo Wop" style of the 1950s and early 1960s. Much of this early rock music was composed over a single chord progression, C-A minor-F-G, or its equivalent in other keys.

Bass frameworks were important harmonic test beds. Here the relationships and behavior patterns among chords of varying degrees of stability instability were settled. At one end of the spectrum, the tonic chord, the chord built on the first degree of the scale, represented stability and repose. It served as the starting point of the music and as the final target of resolution and closure. At the other end of the spectrum, the dominant chord, the chord built upon the fifth degree of the scale, contained the least stable notes of the scale and hence was itself the least stable chord in the key. Its appearance in the music created the tension and crucial necessary to propel the music forward, but also demanded resolution to the tonic chord. The remaining chords stood somewhere along the continuum and each developed a specific function in building pathways between the tonic and dominant chords.

Bass frameworks reflected melodic changes introduced by singers and so played a crucial role in determining the two key types, and hence they came in two family types. The folia and its derivatives, the folia bastarda, the passamezzo antico, and the romanesca represented the minor-key family. The passamezzo moderno and its close relative, the ruggiero, represented the major-key family. The evolution of harmonic function and key paralleled and was, in part, driven by developments in the treatment of melody by singers using the church modes. An example of the passamezzo antico, "Passo e mezzo," follows. It was copied into an Italian keyboard manuscript (Venice, Biblioteca Marciana MS Cl. IV No.1227, collazione 11699) around 1520. Observe that the melody, which moves in smaller values than the lower parts and is supported by sustained or block chords. The piece not only illustrates the bass framework but, more importantly, the chordal, frottola texture described above. The chord pattern is given below the score.


Passa e mezzo

Impact of the Frottola Upon the Chanson: The Parisian Chanson

By the late 1520s, the impact of chordal texture began to be felt in the chansons composed by French musicians. The new type of chanson, the Parisian chanson, displayed none of the imitative characteristics of the Franco-Flemish chanson favored by northern composers. The new chanson reflected court life and manifested the chivalric spirit. The Parisian chanson began to appear in print around 1529 in the music collections of Pierre Attaingnant. Attaingnant was the most important music publisher in France in the first half of the sixteenth century. In fact, the effectiveness of his multiple-impression printing method, a revolutionary step forward, placed him in the forefront of the international marketplace. The widespread currency of his music books in Europe is evident in the significant numbers of “canzone francese,” French chansons, are found in Italian manuscripts and prints.

Two composers emerged as leaders in the new chanson type. Claudin de Sermisy (c1490-1562) composed masses and motets but also participated in the development of the new chanson. He served as singer or music director under three consecutive French kings. Like many other composers of the courtly, love-oriented, Parisian chanson, he was affiliated with Sainte Chapelle, a small but exquisite cathedral a few blocks northwest of Notre Dame in Paris. He was appointed canon at Sainte Chapelle in 1533.

St. Chapelle, interior of entrance



St. Chapelle, interior of chapel

Sermisy’s chansons are treble-dominated and feature chordal texture. Occasional snatches of secondary melodies occur at line ends. The poetry he set was courtly, addressing itself to matters of love, and his melodic treatment of the texts are charming, delicate, and strophic. The term “strophic” indicates that the musical sections are repeated with new words. One of his most famous Parisian chansons, “Tant que vivray,” is given in video as an example. The music form is described as A A B B. The first stanza of text follows. The translation and musical arrangement come from my book. Both appear in my book. The text to "Tant que vivray," and that of "Martin Drove His Pig To Market," appears here with permission of Mel Bay Publications.

As long as I live and am able,

I will serve love, God willing,

In deed, word, and song.

For many days I languished,

But later mourning turned to rejoicing,

For I have the love of a gentle beauty.

Our alliance,

She’s my betrothed,

Her heart is mine,

My heart is hers,

Shunning sadness,

Embracing life,

When one loves, he has so much joy!

A second important composer of Parisian chansons was Clement Janequin (c1485-c1558). Janequin was a minor cleric who struggled financially his entire life. The reputation of his chansons during their heyday was not built, as of those by Sermisy, upon their charm and sophistication, but instead upon their narrative, descriptive, and programmatic character. He favored rustic settings and characters, and spun out their little scenes with wit and often with ribald humor. Imitations of non-musical sounds such as battle cries, street-vendor pitches, and birdsong were often included. Since his texts were narrative, the supporting music tended to be through-composed (no repeated sections). The text of “Martin Drove His Pig” follows:

Martin drove his pig to market,

With Alex, who, in the big field,

Entreated Martin to snatch a peach by standing “piggy-back.”

And Martin asked him, “and who shall hold our dainty pig?”

“Who?!,” says Alex, “here is a good solution!”

Then he tied the pig to his leg,

And Martin climbed clumsily upon his shoulders

The pig became frightened and then Alex cried out

“Hold tight, Martin, our pig is dragging me away!”

Parisian chansons could be performed by several singers, by solo singer with lute accompaniment, or as a piece for solo lute. The genre fell from favor after 1560.