Showing posts with label earlymusic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label earlymusic. Show all posts

Sunday, April 06, 2025

the evolution of early music

I visited the Bate Collection on the last day before they closed for the move from St. Aldates to the new building in Jericho (named after one of the billionaires who co-funded the ongoing trumpocalypse, so I won't name it here). As they were desperate to clear out stuff from their shop, I helped by taking on the last 20 issues they had of the journal Early Music, which look like this:

The random issues span the years 1974 (the journal started in 1973) to 2004. The journal published four issues per year until recently - I am a bit worried that the most recent issue online dates from May 2024, so they may either be in trouble or just running late with their publication schedule?

I browsed through all 20 issue going backwards in time and it is amazing to observe how the field has moved in those three decades - starting with "what is a hurdy-gurdy?" and ending up discussing really subtle differences between medieval bows, or details of Renaissance notation on ten pages.

A few things I learned or noticed:

Small violins were a thing long before they were inflicted on children. As Margaret Downie Banks explained in November 1990 (vol 18, pp 588-596), violino piccolo is specified in early baroque compositions (including some by Bach even) in ways that suggest the violins were used like recorder consorts, with smaller instruments to reach the higher notes. This was useful because at the time the normal technique used by violinists didn't include higher positions. The chin rest hadn't been invented yet, and the ways of holding the instrument were all over the place, meaning that when you move up to higher positions you would have trouble coming back down (moving the hand away from the chin) without dropping the instrument. So people played first position only, plus a few extra notes that can be reached by stretching while the thumb stays in place. Like today's folk fiddlers. There isn't much explicit info on this from the time, because people who only knew this way of playing didn't know what they were missing. A key source is the violin instruction book published by Leopold Mozart (father of Wolfgang Amadeus), who noted in 1756 (just after what we now regard as the official end of the Baroque period) that small violins are no longer necessary, because players can now play higher notes by shifting their hand. He also mentions that the small instruments no longer needed by grown-ups could be useful in music education for children, although he doesn't whole-heartedly support this use.

Another article in August 1984 addresses the issue of early violinists not using higher positions from the point of view of fingerings marked in the scores. This article notes that the chin rest was invented by the composer Louis Spohr (1784-1859).

I am left wondering now if cellists / viola da gamba players discovered higher positions earlier than violinists, because they can move their left hand freely anyways. Will have to investigate.

An ad that appeared in October 1980 notes that "In 1522 the Croydon Waits were beheaded for performing crumhorn consorts on comb and paper while waiting for their instruments to be delivered." The ad goes on to reassure readers that in the 20th century this couldn't happen any more, as the waiting time for their crumhorns "has been reduced to a reasonable length."

I noticed that across the whole 20 issues with all the luscious illustrations, there isn't a single picture of a nyckelharpa (keyed fiddle) even though these instruments are present in medieval iconography. Doing a word search on the online archive, there appears to be only one mention of the word nyckelharpa in the entire corpus of the journal, and that was in the review of a recording where the instrument was used. Given the popularity of the instrument in Scandinavian folk today, I am puzzled as to why the Early Music crowd chose to completely ignore it. By contrast, hurdy-gurdies are well represented. Obviously, it is difficult to do stats based on the issues I have, as they are a negative selection, left behind by earlier visitors to the collection. Somebody may have picked all issues that had a viola da gamba on the cover. But the absence of nyckelharpas is a real thing.

In November 2003, we find the late Jeremy Montagu (1927-2020) reminding us that "trump" is another name for the Jew's harp. He wrote "it is a term of historical usage ... and today safe from any potentially offensive connotation, which many of us have adopted as a result." Those were the days.

In the same issue, there is an interesting article on Quantz's flute quartets which had been rediscovered recently.

Oh and I also learned that the early music festival Tage Alter Musik Herne is still going strong and happening each year in November. Back in the last century when we were spoilt rotten by the Tage Alter Musik Regensburg (held in magnificent historic venues matching the age of the music) we were a bit snobbish about the competition from the less lovely city of Herne, but now that I have a base in Dusseldorf, I could easily attend some of the concerts at Herne.

May add further discoveries as they turn up ...

Tuesday, November 23, 2021

cantigas de santa Maria revisited

As it's the 800th birthday of Alfonso X el sabio today, I've gone a bit wild on twitter and made a thread with some cantiga videos (only ten cantigas, not all 420, you'll be pleased to know).

I'm running out of time now, but at some point I will also have to spend some serious time obsessing with the two manuscripts that are now available online (since July or so).

The best thing I rediscovered in today's youtube raid was this video from Triskilian:

Saturday, December 07, 2019

santa Maria amar devemos

The Cantigas de Santa Maria - 420 songs in mediaeval Galician (aka Galician-Portuguese) collected by Alfonso X. in the 13th century - are an important foundation of Galician culture, and one or two of them have been played (as instrumental tunes) at our Galician sessions as well. However, our harper who plays them from memory, had learned them without numbers or titles, so they were almost impossible to find.



I recently attended a seminar on the cantigas (the relevant paper is here), where I learned lots of things about their structures and storytelling. Also about the fundamentals - for instance, the images of musicians, like the one above, appear only in one of the four known manuscripts. Two others include illustrations relating to the stories of miracles told in nine out of every ten cantigas.

The seminar inspired me to look at the mystery of our harper's cantiga again and I discovered that the lovely database Cantigas de Santa Maria for singers has a forward arrow on the pages displaying the modern notation for each cantiga. Until now I had assumed that I had to access each one separately with several clicks each time, but in fact I can just flick through them. Which I did, and starting at number one, I found that the cantiga we play most often is actually number seven. Quick and easy - not sure if I'd have had the stamina to find it if it had been number 407.

So it's called

Santa Maria amar devemos


and here is a lovely version with karaoke text lines, so you can sing along (and unlike some other versions I found, the melody sticks very close to the version we play):




In other CSM news, I just acquired a big book of solo pieces for alto recorder (Altblockflötensolobuch by Barbara Hintermeier and Birgit Baude, Schott 2014), and that also contains two of the cantigas, namely

No. 353 Quen a omagen da virgen (lyrics video here)
No. 166 Como Poden (lyrics video here)

I really like the 353 as a recorder piece, haven't quite gotten my head round the 166 yet.

Our gaiteiro, David Carril says he can play No. 100, Santa Maria strela do dia, so I will learn that one as well. Here's a video where you can read the manuscript while listening to the music.


In terms of recordings, there are lots of them on YouTube, obviously. This channel has so many, it may well be all of them, but they are in no particular order and mixed with videos of other early music, so it's hard to tell. The ones I checked usually had the lyrics displayed in some form.

This video: Fiesta en el corte de Alfonso el Sabio combines recordings of some 14 cantigas by different artists with a large number of the musicians miniatures from the manuscript.

I have a CD by Ensemble Alcatraz, called Vision and Miracles (1988) which includes CSM 103, 333, 117, 34, and 42 along with an instrumental suite using several cantigas and some other medieval pieces.

The Dufay Collective has recorded a CD full of cantigas, which is called Miracles.

Estampie have recorded a few. No. 120 Quantos me creveren (the numbers ending in 0 are songs of praise as opposed to stories of miracles) is included in their "Best Of" CD (2007) and a few more are on their album Signum (2004) including Non e gran cousa (26), Non devemos (27) and Quen na virgen (this could be 186, 256, or possibly 59, 103, or 276 - I don't have this CD).

La Capella Reial de Catalunya have recorded a dozen cantigas with Hesperion XX and Jordi Savall, available on CD as "Cantigas de Santa Maria - strela do dia". I'm a bit confused as Amazon seems to think it dates from 2017, but since the millennium the ensemble has been known as Hesperion XXI, so I suspect it may be a rerelease of a 1990s recording. Oh, and somebody posted it on Youtube in 2013.

Saturday, January 06, 2018

a arte de trobar


The year is 1237. As the king of France and the Inquisition are finishing off the genocide of the Cathars in Occitania, King Fernando III of Castile is about to marry his second wife, Juana de Dammartin at Burgos (she narrowly avoided marrying the English king, Henry III). To mark the occasion, a contest of some of the most respected troubadours is held at the castle. At the very last minute, Maria Balteira introduces an odd duo to the event – a Galician xograr (minstrel), Nuno Porco, and an Occitan refugee shrouding herself in mystery and going by the name of Elvira, whom Balteira had discovered performing at an inn in the town.

They get to perform last, and in the presence of the royal couple and Fernando’s teenage son, Alfonso. After they have blown away the bickering competitors (including eg Pero da Ponte and Bernal de Bonaval) and stunned everybody into silence, the king’s son is the first to applaud. He is, of course, the future king Alfonso X, el Sabio, the author of the Cantigas de Santa Maria. This imagined encounter between the brutally extinguished culture of the Occitan troubadours and the new wave of the Galician mediaeval music is at the heart of this short novel.

Many of the characters are loosely based on historical figures (follow the wikipedia links above to find out about them), but who the hell is Elvira? That is the mystery the novel plays with to great effect, and I’m not going to spoil it here. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that I missed all the clues. The answer only hit me when I got to the very last sentence. So I’ll just have to read the novel again – it will be a completely different experience, knowing what I know now.

I’m thinking it might work well in English translation, actually. Would just need a few footnotes. Maybe the Galician Studies Centre and the Oxford Trobadors should conspire to make this happen …




Santiago Lopo
A arte de Trobar
Editorial Xerais, October 2017.


UPDATE 18.8.2022: Very excited to report that an English translation is due to be published under the title "The art of making verses", you can read the first 1/5 of the text here.

PS: on a related note, here is an article about the female oral tradition behind the medieval Galician poetry (in Galician):

O trobador eran elas

Boa parte da lírica medieval galego-portuguesa era tradición oral feminina, segundo Ria Lemaire

Wednesday, October 04, 2017

unusual instruments

The Oxford Music Festival is mainly for young musicians playing orchestral instruments, guitar or piano, but there is also a space for people of all ages playing weird and wonderful instruments.

Following my suggestion, the committee has launched a new class called:

Show us your unusual instrument

Non-competitive. Any non-orchestral instrument from early music, folk, non-European traditions, including home-built or -modified or newly invented instruments. 5mins to play a piece and explain the instrument.

Time limit 5 mins.

It's class 160 near the bottom of this page

IMPORTANT: registration deadline is Sat 14th of October. (Although the festival itself takes place on the last weekend in January and the first weekend in February.)


So sign up now for a chance to show and play your ophicleide, hurdy-gurdy, nyckelharpa, khene, theremin, morin khuur (horsehead fiddle), tromba marina (marine trumpet), crumhorn, txalaparta, shawm, or whatever other instrument you play, and help to show the world that music doesn't always have to be played on violin and piano.

For those who don't know the festival format: There is an entry fee to pay (£9 for this class), which buys you the opportunity to perform to an expert audience, constructive criticism from the adjudicator - a professional musician and music teacher, who normally will dispense a carefully crafted sandwich with criticism surrounded by praise - plus the chance to meet other unusual instrumentalists, plus free entry to the festival on the day you perform, so you can listen to other musicians performing all day if you like. There are typically four strands of classes running parallel, so you can pick and mix.

I'm signing up to improve my skills on our home-built hammered dulcimer, and I'm advertising the class to make sure it won't be just me hammering the dulcimer ...



Angel with viola a chiavi ('keys'), Cappellina di Palazzo Pubblico, Siena, Italy. Fresco by Taddeo di Bartolo, 1408. Image source: Wikipedia


PS (19.10.2017) in related news, the Society for strange and ancient instruments has just completed crowdfunding to build a quartet of marine trumpets.


Friday, April 22, 2016

how to hammer a dulcimer

We seem to have given birth to a new string instrument, and now I'm trying to rationalise what happened:

So the young musician in the family wanted a hammered dulcimer. Her mother found a build-your-own instruction online. Her grandad helped her build the box. And I helped with the bridges and all the metal that goes on top (20 hitch pins, 40 tuning pins, more than 30 metres of piano wire for 20 courses of strings). And miraculously, the international 3-generation project actually resulted in a real musical instrument, which is now playable:

And here's what it sounds like shortly after completion of the work:

It's not very difficult to play (essentially it works like a xylophone with strings) and the construction isn't too challenging either. We disobeyed the instruction in adding more courses on the bass bridge, and by making the treble and bass bridges in one piece each with holes in it, rather than as many little ones.

With hindsight, I would suggest that the "simplification" of building the box rectangular rather than as a trapezoid as in commercially available dulcimers is causing as much trouble on the strings side as it avoids on the box building side, so I might one day try to do one with the proper shape. As for the cost, it's just under £ 4 per course of 2 strings for the metal work - plus the wood, paint glue etc. if you don't have that lying around anyway. In our household we probably have several dulcimers worth of broken furniture that could be recycled, so watch this space.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

perkelt

Continuing my series on musicians I've seen busking around here, PerKelt are a mediaeval/celtic fusion band mainly active in London and Oxford. They are playing lots of live gigs mainly in London and also pop around to play the Cornmarket Street open air circuit quite frequently.

The members are: Will Connor (percussions), Stepan Honc (guitar), Pavlina Bastlova (recorders, vocals).

They have two CDs out, which are both very popular in my household. More details on their official website.

Here's a recent concert video which they posted on YouTube: Quen a Omagen - Upstairs at the Castle

And here's my video of the band busking in the streets of Oxford (quite bad background noise, hoping to catch them at a better spot some time!): Tourdion.

A better street video: Ai Vist Lo Lop

PS: Coming soon - my video of another busker, with members of PerKelt shuffling around in the background, as they are waiting for their turn. That's how lucky we are, we have amazing musicians queuing up waiting to serve us!

NB: Anybody wanting to join the vibrant Oxford busking scene needs a busking pass from the Oxford City Council, application details here. See also the code of practice and the map of the nine official busking spots here.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

ecce torpet probitas

by sheer coincidence I recently stumbled upon a song from the Carmina Burana which seems to sum up this week’s scandalous events quite nicely – it’s all about how honesty lies in a coma (the title), greed rules the world, people bend the rules to get rich quick, etc. Isn’t it amazing how prescient people were in the 12th century? Or alternatively, have we fallen back to the dark ages?

Latin text below the video, Latin text with English translation here (song no. 4, on page 5).

1.
Ecce torpet probitas,
virtus sepelitur;
fit iam parca largitas,
parcitas largitur;
verum dicit falsitas,
veritas mentitur.
Omnes iura ledunt
et ad res illicitas
licite recedunt.

2.
Regnat avaritia,
regnant et avari;
mente quivis anxia
nititur ditari,
cum sit summa gloria
censu gloriari.
Omnes iura ledunt
et ad prava quelibet
impie recedunt.

3.
Multum habet oneris
do das dedi dare;
verbum hoc pre ceteris
norunt ignorare
divites, quos poteris
mari comparare.
Omnes iura ledunt
et in rerum numeris
numeros excedunt

4.
Cunctis est equaliter
insita cupido;
perit fides turpiter,
nullus fidus fido,
nec Iunoni Iupiter
nec Enee Dido.
Omnes iura ledunt
et ad mala devia
licite recedunt.

5.
Si recte discernere
velis, non est vita,
quod sic vivit temere
gens hec imperita;
non est enim vivere,
si quis vivit ita.
Omnes iura ledunt
et fidem in opere
quolibet excedunt.

Thursday, August 06, 2009

early music

I have now read the paper on the 40,000 year old flute from the Hohle Fels cave in Southwest Germany, which came out in print in today's issue of Nature (online in June). Really exciting stuff. Just imagine you're going through a layer of sediment which you know with absolute certainty to be > 35 k years old and you find bits of a musical instrument. The first author says in the front section of the magazine that it was a shock, which is probably an understatement. I would probably have died from a heart attack on the spot.

Looking at the photos, the instrument looks really sophisticated as well. For instance, the surroundings of the holes are flattened to make it easier to find the hole and to close it precisely with the finger. The mouthpiece looks intriguing as well. In the interview at the front of the magazine the first author says that a replica of the flute is now available (finding a matching vulture bone seems to have been the rate-limiting step!), so I am looking forward to finding out more about the musical properties of the instrument.

Also, still intrigued about a possible link with the vaguely simultaneous disappearance of the Neanderthals (about which there is a nice feature by Kate Wong in the August issue of Scientific American). The image of a pied piper comes to mind ...

Monday, July 27, 2009

early music and art

I managed to miss the story of the world's oldest flute when I was travelling in June, but found it in the August issue of Spektrum der Wissenschaft. I'm intrigued to learn that the earliest instrument was found just a few feet away from the world's oldest sculpture, in the Hohle Fels cave in south west Germany. Both date from around 35,000 years ago, i.e. around the time when Neanderthals disappeared from Europe.

So it all fits together, our ancestors had visual arts and music and all that, while Neanderthals got bored to death ...

PS original paper on the earliest flute is in Nature AOP

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

why music doesn't add up

review of

How equal temperament ruined harmony (and why you should care)
By Ross W. Duffin

Norton paperback 2008

Music, I was led to believe, is a supremely elegant manifestation of pure mathematics. The intervals we know as fifths (think “Twinkle - twinkle”), fourths, and octaves correspond to simple fractional relations between the sound frequencies, of 2/3, 3/4, and 1/2, respectively. And as an illustration, one gets shown the corresponding keys on a piano keyboard.

What nobody told me in the first 44 years of my life is that the intervals you play on the piano do not correspond to the simple fractions cited above. I only started hitting on this problem when my daughter’s cello teacher dropped a hint that the piano was out of tune by default. The piano is actually tuned not in pure intervals but in a system called “equal temperament” for the simple reason that the fractions don’t add up. If you add up 12 fifths, all around the circle of fifths (C - G - D - A - E - B - F+ - C+ - Ab - Eb - Bb - F - C) you get 3/2 ^12 = 129.746. Theoretically, the first and the last C in this series should be seven octaves apart, so their frequency relation should be 2^7 = 128. And not 129.746. And there are even worse clashes with other intervals. So in fact it would be impossible to tune a piano according to the pure intervals defined by simple fractions. This is why we as a civilisation have settled for equal temperament, which means the octave is split into 12 equal semitones.

Equal temperament (ET) is so widespread today that knowledge of the alternatives has gone missing, and even many musicians are unaware of the problems that this compromise solution causes. Duffin argues that some of the “unequal” solutions favoured in renaissance music and through to the end of the 19th century (he dates the total victory of ET to 1917) would still be useful today and that the question of temperament should be considered afresh for each piece of music, taking into consideration the likely intentions of the composer, the context of its creation, and what’s best for its harmonies. This will all be self-evident for practitioners of early music who use historic instruments and temperaments already, but it may be new to many people dealing with the classical repertoire from Bach to Beethoven (who, the author argues, cannot have become used to hearing ET by the time he went deaf).

This argument is all very well and convincing, but it would fill only around 30 pages, so to bulk his pamphlet up to a marketable 196 pages, the author has included lots of repetition (as you tend to do in music!) and biographical profiles of everybody who has ever voiced an opinion on temperament, from Mozart’s father, via the flautist Quantz, through to the cellist Pablo Casals. And cartoons. And diagrams. But all this is redundant in principle, so if you’re just after the meat of the matter, you can probably read the relevant pages within an hour, at a bookshop cafe.

What remains is the impression that music is in fact a lot less mathematically elegant than it is often claimed to be, and that it is a rather messy compromise between pure mathematical beauty and practicability. The good news is that a messy system leaves you free to mess with it, giving performers more freedom. When I play out of tune, I can always claim I am experimenting with different temperaments.

Monday, May 19, 2008

la galana i la mar

I've been playing Mor Karbasi's album "The beauty and the sea" on closed loop since it arrived last Thursday and love it to bits.

Intriguingly, there are 6 old songs (mostly traditional Ladino) and 7 new ones which she co-wrote with her mother and a multi-talented guy called Joe Taylor (also producer, guitars, bass, oud, backing vocals!) . But the whole package fits so perfectly that you never realise there's a gap of 500 years between one half and the other.

Apart from the voice, I also love the haunting recorders. And there is something about the melodies of these songs from the tradition of the Sephardim that is distinct from all other music I know. For instance the recorder motif in La galana, which I've figured out how to play on the flute -- you wouldn't find that kind of melody anywhere else.



photo from Mor's MySpace profile

Saturday, May 03, 2008

The beauty and the sea

I recently raved about the music of Mor Karbasi, and then I managed to miss the release of her debut album, a few weeks ago. This very enthusiastic review of The Beauty and the sea woke me up. I've ordered the CD, which should turn up soon. Watch this space

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Mor Karbasi

Back in January, I was raving about Yasmin Levy and her Ladino / Flamenco music. Thanks to this and the magic of MySpace I found a "friend request" this morning from Mor Karbasi, a London-based singer who does very similar things, and I like the four songs on her MySpace profile a lot.


Tuesday, January 22, 2008

music of the sephardim

I've just "discovered" (for myself) the singer Yasmin Levy, who specialises in reviving (and adding to) the music of the Sephardim, i.e. the Jews who lived in Spain before the "reyes catolicos" cleared the country of all non-catholics in 1492.

Although I'm neither Spanish nor Jewish, nor 550 years old, I just love this music. It also has had some influence on the origins of flamenco, which I like too.

Yasmin Levy has a MySpace page with a few of her tracks and a new album out with Harmonia Mundi, which I'll check out pronto.

There was also a piece in the Guardian about her. The Guardian made a big fuss about Ladino being a distinct language that hardly anybody speaks any more -- but to me it sounds just like spanish with a bit of a weird accent.