Album insights
Music and poetry are intricately connected in the art of song; in primitive cultures, they are almost inseparable. The significance of song as mere entertainment, despite the wide-ranging emotions and situations expressed within it, can be considered impoverished compared to its role in cultures without a written language. Suitable songs accompanied various aspects of life, serving both public and private expressions in primitive societies. The magical power of words always underpinned these songs, whether sung alone or recited collectively during rituals. Some remnants of this highly integrated form of expression persist, even amidst the blend of technology and pervasive self-consciousness in our current social environment. Aspects of this tradition endure in folk songs or manifest in what we broadly describe as "popular" music, while the rediscovery of ancient music sometimes reveals glimpses of the Middle Ages, like a unicorn at the edge of the forest.
The concept of the "wandering minstrel," popularized by the 19th century ascribed to the Troubadours of operetta, has unfortunately distorted our presentation and perception of medieval songs. However, it is essential not to rush into criticism. In the decades before World War I, access to the Troubadours was found through Dante, sparking a surge of research works producing reference books, anthologies, translations, and sparking vibrant interest from figures like Ezra Pound, one of the most influential poets of our century. This movement declined during the World War, but today, many early explorations of Troubadour culture are being replaced by fresh research.
The medieval form of song known as "Lai" or "Leich" gained popularity through anthologies such as Helen Waddell's Medieval Latin Lyrics. Most extant medieval chants are predominantly influenced by the tradition of Latin hymnody, with even the few surviving vernacular examples containing religious allusions. Latin was the primary language of the educated in Christianized Europe, remaining the principal language of poets until the 12th century. Notker in the 9th century developed an extensive form of song known as the Sequence, consisting of pairs of verses sung to the same melody but with each pair having a new tune. Both the Planctus and the wedding song "Ex te lux oritur..." in the present recording are derived structurally from the Sequence.
By 1100, Northern France had evolved into the intellectual hub of Europe, with Paris echoing the name of Peter Abaelard most prominently in history.
In his Historia Calamitatum Mearum, Abaelard recounts his youth, his love affair with Héloïse, and its catastrophic end. As a renowned philosopher in Parisian schools, he was hired as a private tutor by Fulbert, the uncle of young Héloïse. A passionate love blossomed between teacher and student, leading to a tumultuous affair. When Fulbert discovered the truth, he angrily had Abaelard castrated. Seeking solace in the church, both Abaelard and Héloïse drew comfort separately, leading Abaelard to establish the Paraclet monastery, later entrusted to Heloise and her nuns. Their subsequent correspondence reveals a remarkable bond, with Héloïse praising Abaelard's poetic talent, known to melt any woman's heart with his verses and songs. While his secular songs are lost, Abaelard's later religious compositions, including hymns and six Planctus or "Laments," have survived.
As a poet and musician, Abaelard's work piques interest without needing legendary misfortune or philosopher's fame. His Planctus exhibit originality in conception, offering highly modern interpretations of suffering themes based solely on biblical sources. Only the "Planctus David," the last of the six, comes with a musical notation whose precise tones can be determined for transcription. References to the tired throat and hand of the harpist/singer in the final lines strongly echo the Breton Lai tradition, something familiar to Abaelard, hailing from a lesser Breton noble lineage.
The Leich style wasn't confined to Southern Europe. In fact, the mingling of Romanesque and Teutonic traditions contributed significantly to medieval song history. Modern poet and novelist George Mackay Brown's writings vividly evoke the Minnesänger artistry, rooted in the Scottish Orkneys. Maintaining a Norse influence from its island habitat, the Orkney archipelago had closer ties with Scandinavia in medieval times. In 1982, during a visit to Bergen for a festival, a replica of the wedding song was discovered in the Haakon's Hall, a restored medieval banquet hall. This congratulatory sequence marked a specific wedding, perhaps even one that took place in the Hall built between 1247 and 1261 by Haakon. In 1281, Margaret, daughter of King Alexander III of Scotland, journeyed to Bergen, marrying King Eirik Magnusson and being crowned Queen of Norway in the cathedral. The wedding song, possibly originating from the Orkney Islands, is now housed in the Uppsala University Library.
Compared to other European nations, the number of surviving medieval songs from England is limited. Yet from the available material, one can discern several distinct characteristics considered as typically English, providing a foundation for later, more abundant eras such as the 15th century. One notable trait is the portrayal of nature as both a physical and spiritual force, alongside a moralizing stance regarding life's hardships as a constant reminder of human mortality. This tone is particularly evident in "Worldës Blis," a 13th-century song from the London area, clearly inspired by choral hymnody, sung with a free, fairly consistent rhythm that accommodates natural speech stresses without hindering the melody's fluidity.
The rhythmic challenges inherent in interpreting medieval music pose a fundamental issue for performers engaging with this era. Our lack of knowledge concerning how this music was performed, the instruments used, singing technique, and rhythmic structuring requires an approach that allows for flexibility and exploration. A more recent understanding encourages a varied, more declamatory approach to rhythm, reflecting the performer's ability to deliver these poems as poetic recitations, preserving the full expressive potential of the melody.
Where a melody hints at some level of metric regularity or seems to demand instrumental accompaniment, these additions can be seamlessly incorporated without deviating from the style. This flexible approach may draw criticism from those seeking an ordered, uniform formula, but it's crucial to remember that medieval song forms share similarities with certain non-European song traditions, like the African Griot, embodying a similar blend of qualities. Engaging with these songs demands treating them as partially finished compositions, a positive approach considering the endeavor to revive an oral tradition culture scarcely documented in writing. Troubadour songs came down to us almost by chance: as the tradition waned, the songs were transcribed in a notation designed for polyphony and modal rhythms, leading to confusion concerning the songs' rhythms. Concurrently, these late chroniclers from the 13th century provided "Vidas," short biographies of the Troubadours, although factually unreliable, they're presented below (translated) as they form part of the material preserved over centuries, contributing to the legend these chroniclers sought to immortalize by transcribing the words and melodies of an almost extinct art.
Guiraut de Borneil hailed from Limousin, Excideuil, near the imposing castle of the Vicomte de Limoges. Though of humble birth, he possessed innate intelligence and wit. Revered as the Master Troubadour, he captivated audiences with verses of love and humor. Esteemed among nobles, art enthusiasts, and ladies who relished the wondrous tales in his songs, Guiraut's life revolved around teaching during the winter and traveling with singers performing his songs in the summer. He chose never to wed, dedicating all earnings to his impoverished parents and the church in his birth village of St. Gervais.
Bernart de Ventardorn, born in Limousin at the Ventadorn castle, shared a similar start from humble beginnings as the son of a castle baker. Gifted with a harmonious voice, adept at songcraft, and possessing courtesy and wisdom, Bernart earned high regard and honors from the Vicomte. The Vicomte's young and noble wife was enchanted by Bernart and his songs, igniting a hidden love affair between them. Even after their love was exposed, their affection persisted until the Vicomte intervened, spiriting Bernart away and confining his wife, pressuring her to persuade Bernart to leave. Bernart then sought refuge with the Duchess of Normandy - Eleanor of Aquitaine, receiving a warm welcome due to his talents. Embedded in the court, Bernart fell deeply in love with Eleanor, composing numerous exquisite songs in her honor. When Eleanor wed King Henry of England, Bernart, heartbroken, took solace in the company of nobleman Count Raimon of Toulouse until the count's passing. Bereft, Bernart joined the monastery of Dalon, where he spent the rest of his days.
Bernart de Ventadorn fondly referred to Eleanor of Aquitaine as "Lauzeta" for a knight she adored, known as "Rai." On one occasion, the knight visited the Duchess and entered her chambers. Upon seeing him, she subtly lifted her dress over his neck before retreating to her bed. Witnessing this encounter, Bernart, concealed by a maid, was inspired to compose the song "Can vei la lauzeta mover."