Medieval and Early Modern Vanguards

Johannes Ockeghem's chanson _Presque transi_ has sparked scholarly interest and debate for decades. Roediger recognized a correspondence between the first seven pitches of the Tenor voice and _Petite camusette_, a motivic affinity discounted by Reese for having no apparent effect on the remainder of the composition. The same motive plays a role in the contested identification of _Presque transi_ as the model of Ockeghem's equally enigmatic _Missa Mi-mi_ (Miyizaki, Fitch, Godt, and Picker). It also informs ongoing discussion of the solmization and influence of the chanson on later compositions (Besseler, Brown, Plamenac, Picker, Miyazaki, Duffin, and Rodin). While Plamenac and Wexler cite the lack of its apparent lack of imitation in _Presque transi_, Fitch describes surprising unifying devices which, notable in light of Ockeghem's reputation as an "anti-rationalist", illustrating Bernstein's description of Ockeghem's desire to obscure the underlying rationality of his compositional process. Another enigmatic element of the chanson is its lack of apparent musical contrast between refrain and couplet (Woetmann Christoffersen). 


Considering the unresolved questions raised about _Presque transi_, one might well echo Irving Godt, who in his analysis of _Missa Mi-mi_, calls for continuing "to search for a guiding principle behind any composition of this period". This paper identifies just such an underlying principle in _Presque transi_. Reducing its individual voices to the level of pitch-by filtering out rhythms and note repetitions-reveals a numerical and melodic structure that is simultaneously surprisingly simple and complex. Tenor and Cantus consist of an identical number of pitches, and all three voices share melodic patterns and permutations that yield with remarkable ease to numerical, symmetrical, and palindromic analysis. Each voice contains extensive passages that function as consonant counterpoint against themselves and other voices in retrograde and retrograde-inversion, with each of the melodic patterns forming the kernel of retrograde canons. Moreover, those those first seven pitches of the Tenor play a key role in its larger contrapuntal structure.


_Presque transi_ is not alone, for it shares melodic patterns and concealed symmetries with _Missa Quinti toni_, _Aultre Venus_, _Il ne m'en chault_, and _Au travail suis_ (strengthening the case for Ockeghem's authorship). Intriguingly, the same formal devices, seemingly endless circular motives, formal devices, and references to Fortune and Death that inform Ockeghem's _Presque transi_ are found in a small group of anonymous chansons in the manuscript El Escorial MS. IV.a.24. Symbolic links between their "endless" motivic circles and and unceasing Fortune are virtually inescapable.


The identification of these underlying melodic and numerical patterns in Ockeghem's works not only sheds light on his compositional process and reputation as a mathematician, it argues for a fundamental reconsideration of the role of melodic patterns in the compositional process of fifteenth-century song and Mass.

While troubadour songs are commonly performed today with instrumental accompaniment, especially the vielle, there are only three troubadours famous enough for playing this medieval fiddle that it was recorded in their vidas. Some scholars, such as John Stevens and Christopher Page, associate instrumental accompaniment with a popular or "low style" of music contrasted to the "high style" of the court. Elizabeth Aubrey argues that this is an oversimplification of the complex and variable system of troubadour genres. In this study, I take an interdisciplinary approach to understanding the "low" status of instruments. With methods from sociology, art history, literary studies, and musical analysis, I look at the surviving evidence to consider the role of instruments within the troubadour repertory, and how this role changed over time. 


The concept of "three estates" provides a useful narrative frame because it illustrates a social hierarchy with static social mobility. As we follow the social life of the vielle, we see these categories blur and bend. The first estate, oratores (those who pray), consists of educated clergy who developed musical notation, wrote treatises on music quoting ancient authorities who marginalized instrumentalists, and preached against fraternizing with such performers. The second estate, bellatores (those who fight), includes aristocrats who patronized the troubadours or, in some cases, were also troubadours. The third estate, laboratores (those who work), comprises instrumentalists and joglars who worked closely with troubadours as messengers, carrying their songs from court to court. 


The three troubadours, known for playing the vielle, traverse these categories in interesting ways. Perdigon (fl. 1195-1220), son of a poor fisherman, earned land and rents through his musical skills. Elias Cairel (fl. 1204-1222), a gold-smith turned troubadour, fought on crusade. Both provide examples of the way music opened opportunities for social mobility. Pons de Capduelh (fl. 1190-1220), however, was a troubadour-baron during a time when aristocrats were not known for playing instruments. Using Actor-Network Theory as a basis for conceptualizing these multifaceted relationships, I suggest that the vielle helped establish these troubadours' reputation, and conversely, the status of the vielle was elevated by its role in fin'amor (courtly love) to the degree that it became acceptable for members of the aristocracy to play.    

The carol was a genre in flux during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries--a public spectacle, a sinful abomination, a fervent expression of piety. It appears to have been the most popular form of French social dance at the time of Chrétien of Troyes (Page, 1989, 111). Yet the sight of young men and women of every social class dancing the carol in churchyards and cemeteries sent contemporary preachers into fits. The Dominican Guillaume Peyraut derided the dance as a sin of physical contact, while in England John Bromyard decried caroling as a social evil. Some called it a Processio diaboli, others denounced it as a disgusting expression of lust and luxury (Page, 120). But by around 1300, Johannes de Grocheio would extol the virtues of caroling as a source of civic pride and moral rectitude (Ars musice, 12.2–3). We argue this sea change may be attributed to the wave of Franciscan preachers who in the 1220s washed into the urban European landscape, bent on a mission to interpret scripture, and preach penance with songs that were current and appealing.
On the continent Franciscans typically adapted to local taste, reforming  dance songs like the carol, lauda, and cantiga. But William Herebert's English chant translations reveal a broader range of taste at play in late-medieval England. Over the past sixty years, scholarly debate concerning the songs of the  Franciscan theologian and preacher William Herebert (c. 1270–1333) has yielded several restrictive observations that have been stubbornly influential: that the poetry is ungainly; that his English chant translations could not have been sung; and that none of them should be classified as carols. In this presentation, we endeavor to refute all three of these totalizing statements, showing how Herebert manipulates his chant models, creating exegesis in song to use in his preaching.
None of the nineteen English chant translations in the autograph copy of Herebert's Commonplace Book includes music (BL, Add. 46919). Yet nine of them may be adapted to the original chant melody without modification to yield strophic songs, one in the form of a carol. The remaining texts fall into place as irregular contrafacta when one follows the clues in Herebert's versification, together with corroborating evidence in the songs of other Franciscan composers active in late-medieval France, Germany, Spain, and the Netherlands. Studying William Herebert's irregular contrafacta gives one a glimpse of the creative genius, exploring programs of Christian exegesis while experimenting with verse forms that run the gamut of contemporary fashion: tail rhymes, frons and cauda forms, and carols. It might seem an impossible challenge for Herebert to have streamed together musical genres as seemingly diverse as the carol and chant. But this was the modus operandi for Franciscans. Placed in their proper historical context as exegesis and commonplaces of preaching, we argue that Herebert's English lyrics should be considered in the vanguard of taste and style among the wave of Franciscan songs designed for the urban masses of late-medieval Europe.