A History of Musical Style

STYLE

A HISTORY

OF MUSICAL STYLE

by Richard L. Crocker

University of California, Berkeley

Dover Publications, Inc., New York

Copyright © 1966, 1986 by Richard L. Crocker.

All rights reserved.

This Dover edition, first published in 1986, is an unabridged and slightly corrected republication of the work first published by McGraw-Hill Book Company, New York, in 1966.

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Crocker, Richard L.

A history of musical style.

Reprint. Originally published: New York : McGraw-Hill, 1966.

Includes index.

Bibliography: p. 531-554.

1. Style, Musical. 2. Music—Performance—History. I. Title. ML430.5.C76   1986      781′.09        85-20718

eISBN-13: 978-0-486-17324-5

Manufactured in the United States by Courier Corporation

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IN MEMORIAM

LEO SCHRADE

PREFACE

THIS BOOK TRACES THE DEVELOPMENT OF WESTERN MUSICAL style from the time of its earliest written records down to the present. Designed as a text for college music majors, it tries to tell the story of style as simply, as connectedly as possible. The book stresses the continuity of basic musical principles over long periods of history, while exploring in greater detail moments of high stylistic achievement.

Our basic ideas of what happened in music history clearly need overhauling to make them accord with the facts brought out by modern research. Traditional explanations often no longer explain the growing body of music now easily accessible in anthologies; traditional interpretations often are not reflected in the increasing—and increasingly good—performances of music from other times. In response to this need for a fresh look at music history, every effort has been made here to incorporate up-to-date interpretations where they seemed warranted, or to advance new ones where necessary.

The present text offers the college music major a continuous account of music’s changing style. While all important composers are mentioned, stress is laid on those composers, and those works, that mark out the main lines of music. Seeking the reasons for stylistic change within the history of style itself (rather than in the history of men or of ideas), the account tries to show how music, growing out of its own past, has shaped its own development.

The book is so constructed that its outline should be clear even if some phases may seem rather dense. Discussion of individual topics is initiated at a relatively low factual and conceptual level, then pursued through more sophisticated levels. By passing over some of the denser passages, any music major should be able to follow the main line of argument, while the better student should find enough to keep him occupied.

This book can be used as a text for several kinds of course work. The basic account presented here can be placed in dialog with material from social or intellectual history, from literature and the other arts, according to the interests of the individual instructor and his students. The analytical approaches suggested here for the various historical phases can be used as guidelines in courses oriented more toward analysis than historical survey. Selected parts of the book (as suggested on page 554) could be used as readings in an introductory course. The book has proved useful to graduate students for review survey. Lists of Selected Study Materials for each chapter are given at the back of the book to guide the student to the all-important study of significant musical compositions.

Richard L. Crocker

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Colleagues of all kinds—faculty, staff, and students—of the Department of Music, University of California (Berkeley), and elsewhere have contributed ideas, materials, criticism, and encouragement. Many pairs of eyes sharper than mine have found countless errors of fact and style; many skillful hands have helped with the drudgery. The long-suffering staff of the Music Library has provided assistance at every turn.

M. Thomas, Director of the Department of Manuscripts, of the Bibliothèque nationale (Paris) graciously permitted the inclusion of materials from that library, as did also Dr. Mason, Librarian of Christ Church College, Oxford.

Copyright releases were kindly provided by Mrs. Gertrud Schoenberg, Dr. G. Francesco Malipiero, the Ministère de l’education nationale (Paris), Director Mieczyslaw Tomaszewski (for the Fryderyk Chopin Institute, Warsaw), the American Musicological Society, the Mediaeval Academy of America, the Royal Musical Association, the Trustees of Smith College, and the following publishers: Bärenreiter, Boosey & Hawkes, J. & W. Chester Ltd., Wilhelm Hansen, Jean Jobert, Möseler, Leo S. Olschki, Oxford University Press, Suvini Zerboni, Universal Edition A. G. (Vienna) and Universal Edition Ltd. (London), and Yale University Press.

Special appreciation is due to Desclee and Company, to Editions de l’Oiseau-lyre, and to Dr. Armen Carapetyan of the American Institute of Musicology for copyright releases of extensive material.

Since this book does not include full scholarly acknowledgments, perhaps a token expression of my indebtedness can find a place here—first of all to my teacher, in whose memory this book is inscribed; then to my many colleagues, both here and abroad, whose publications have made this one possible.

R. L. C.

CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgments

PART I      CHANT 700–1150

1   BEFORE THE BEGINNING: GREGORIAN CHANT

The Franks and Gregorian chant

Roman liturgy

Recitation formulas

Office psalmody

Propers of the mass

Chant theory

2   NEW FRANKISH FORMS 700–1000

Laudes and melismas

Tropes

Acclamations of the mass

Texted melismas

Prose and sequence

Kyrie eleison

Hymn

3   VERSUS AND RELATED FORMS 1000–1150

Rhyming Chant

Rhyme and scansion

Versus

Effects on other forms

Troubadours

Trouvères

Theory and Polyphony

Chant theory

Early polyphony

Polyphonic versus

Other polyphonic forms

PART II      PART MUSIC ON A DISCANT BASIS 1150–1600

4   PARISIAN LEADERSHIP IN PART MUSIC 1150–1300

Polyphony for the mass

Leonin’s Organum

Leonin’s discant

Polyphonic conductus

Perotin and discant

Parisian motet

Other motet styles

English polyphony

5   EXPANSION OF PART MUSIC 1300–1450

Stabilization in Motet and Song Form

Philippe de Vitry’s motets

Between motet and song form

Liturgical polyphony

Guillaume de Machaut

Guillaume’s song forms

Italian song forms

After Guillaume de Machaut

French and English Developments

Dunstable and la contenance angloise

Dufay and his contemporaries

Cyclic mass

Binchois and others

6   FRANCO-FLEMISH MASS AND MOTET 1450–1500

Harmony and the new style

Dufay and Ockeghem

Ockeghem’s mature works

Obrecht’s masses

Josquin Des Pres

Tuning and temperament

Petrucci and music printing

7   DIFFUSION OF FRANCO-FLEMISH STYLE 1500–1600

After Josquin: Varied Applications

Mouton and the lyric style

Frottola, chanson, madrigal

Publications for lute and keyboard

Gombert and Clement

Willaert and Cipriano de Rore

Liturgical polyphony

Instrumental music and pageants

After 1550: The Classic Style

De Monte

Palestrina

Kerle

Lasso

Byrd

Victoria

Italian madrigal and concerto toward 1600

France and England at the end of the century

PART III      PART MUSIC ON A TRIADIC BASIS 1600–1750

8   NEW ITALIAN DRAMATIC STYLES 1600–1650

Italy

The new triadic foundation

Early music-drama and monody

Monteverdi

Keyboard music and Frescobaldi

Other instrumental music

North of the Alps

Schütz and Schein: sacred concerto and historia

Other German music

9   TRENDS TOWARD CLARITY 1640–1690

Italy

Monteverdi’s Poppea

Cavalli and opera in Venice

Cantata

Sacred music and Carissimi

Instrumental music : the trio sonata

Cesti’s operatic style

North of the Alps

French music for lute and keyboard

French opera: Lully

Charpentier’s sacred music

Froberger

Buxtehude and others

Pachelbel and Biber

10   INTERNATIONAL STYLE AND NATIONAL TASTES 1680–1750

Italy

Aria styles toward 1700

Corelli and Torelli

Scarlatti and opera around 1700

Vivaldi

North of the Alps

Purcell and English music

German keyboard publications

Sacred concerto and cantata

Hamburg opera and Händel

François Couperin

German sacred music: Bach at Weimar

Handel’s Brookes’ Passion

Bach’s instrumental works at Cöthen

Bach at Leipzig

Handel’s London opera and oratorio

Bach’s last years

Italy and the European Scene

Italian opera after Scarlatti

Metastasian opera

Vinci and Conti

Pergolesi

Hasse and others

International opera in 1735

Rameau as theorist and composer

PART IV      EXTENSION OF TRIADIC FORMS 1750–1900

11   GERMAN SYMPHONY AND INTERNATIONAL OPERA 1750–1780

Refinement in triadic structure

The new German symphony

Mannheim, 1750

Philipp Emanuel Bach

Eckard and Schobert

Johann Christian Bach

Haydn, 1760–1780

Musical theater after 1750

Gluck

12   HAYDN AND MOZART 1770–1800

Mozart’s early years

Mozart in Vienna

Haydn and Mozart : string quartets

From Figaro to Don Giovanni

Haydn and Mozart: symphonies

Mozart’s last works

Haydn’s last works

13   EXPANSION OF THE SYMPHONY 1800–1830

Opera and Cherubini

Beethoven

Beethoven’s last works

After Beethoven

Schubert

14   SYMPHONIC DERIVATIVES AND OTHER MUSIC 1830–1850

International opera toward 1830

Berlioz and the program symphony

Mendelssohn

Schumann

Chopin Liszt’s symphonic poems

15   BETWEEN BRAHMS AND WAGNER: DEBUSSY 1850–1900456

Wagner’s music-drama

After Wagner : Mussorgsky

Bruckner, Brahms, and the symphony

Verdi

Strauss and Mahler

French music and Debussy

PART V      BEYOND THE TRIAD 1900–1964

16   NEW MUSIC AFTER 1900

The international scene

music around 1910

Parisians and Others; Bartók

Parisian music-hall style

Bartók

Vienna: Schoenberg and Webern

Schoenberg’s early works

Webern’s early works

Schoenberg’s new method

Webern’s later works

Berg

Toward a Common Practice

Symphony in the thirties

Into the twelve-tone field

Order and chance

A classic style ?

SELECTED STUDY MATERIALS

Introductory Note

Abbreviations

Sources of Musical Examples

Selected Study Materials

Selected Readings

Index

A HISTORY

OF MUSICAL STYLE

PART 1

CHANT 700-1150

1

BEFORE THE BEGINNING: GREGORIAN CHANT

THE HISTORY OF WESTERN MUSIC PROPERLY BEGINS NOT WITH the Greeks or Romans but with the Franks. These rough, vigorous tribes of redheaded warriors (as they are described) came down across the Rhine into what is now northern France and the Benelux region during the 200s and 300s. The Franks moved into a cultural space called Gallo-Roman, civilized for centuries under the Roman Empire, but now decaying within as fast as it was being infiltrated from without. At first it seemed as though the Frankish ascendancy was just another of the turbulent shifts in power as one tribe after another stormed across the remains of the Roman Empire. But the Franks stayed. They solidified their own position to the point where they themselves could afford to become civilized. Absorbing whatever elements of culture they encountered, they initiated a new phase of cultural synthesis. What made the Franks different from the other barbarians was not their great military aptitude but rather their even greater organizational ability. Rough and uncultured they had been, but they set up a culture that has lasted more than a thousand years.

THE FRANKS AND GREGORIAN CHANT

The education of the Franks began under the Carolingians, the leading Frankish dynasty. Under Pippin III, crowned king in 751, and his son Charles the Great, or Charlemagne (ca 742–814), the Carolingians not only extended their kingship into an empire, but set in motion the process of acculturation through which Frankish energies and talents eventually found their own modes of expression. In their search for cultural values, the Carolingians turned to Rome and the Christian Church. Pagan Rome was a symbol of past greatness, of accumulated learning; as a symbol it was valued highly by the politically astute Carolingians. The Church, on the other hand, was one of the most important social realities on the European scene: it stood for order, and it stood for it in a way that obviously appealed to growing numbers of Westerners. The Carolingian political program, especially in education, came to depend largely on the institutions of the Church.

Surveying the European scene, the Carolingians saw local autonomy and variety. They found in the Roman Church, specifically in the Roman liturgy, the means best suited to producing cultural unity. And the liturgy was largely sung. Pippin III and even more Charlemagne made universal adoption of the Roman liturgy—including its chant—one of their main objectives; their efforts toward this objective were sustained from 750 to Charlemagne’s death in 814. They sent to Rome for chant books and for cantors to come to teach the Frankish singers; they sent their own cantors to Rome to learn Roman chant; they not only caused these things to be done, but followed up their execution with a keen personal interest. Although the results of this interest are hard to assess at a distance of over a thousand years, it is clear that by 850 there was in use in the Frankish realm a repertory of Roman chant that had not been there a century earlier. Although the relationship of the imported Roman chant to past and future Frankish music was extremely complex, still the Roman chant set a standard of excellence and a point of departure for the Franks.

The unity we now observe in the repertory of Roman chant seems in large part due to the Franks themselves, whose unsurpassed organizational talents left their mark here as elsewhere. The Franks began by calling this chant Gregorian, after Pope Gregory I (ca 540–604), who was supposed to have set the repertory in order. The propriety of the term Gregorian has long been in dispute, beginning in the 800s, and now more than ever; but the term has stuck.

There are increasing indications, however, that even in Rome all was not pure Gregorian, that there were several repertories of chant, successive or simultaneous, that in fact the local variety prevailing throughout the West was present within the Eternal City itself. Inquiries from the North about Roman practice were sometimes put off with official double-talk or inscrutable silence by Roman authorities; Northern investigations over the century 750–850 brought back different versions of Roman chant. Things got so bad that the Franks circulated a rumor that Rome had sent North a dozen experts with specific instructions to teach a dozen different versions. The rumor is undoubtedly not true; but given the conditions it reflected, the remarkable thing is how stable the Gregorian repertory turned out to be, even with all the variants and complexities now being scrutinized by specialists.

Without a foundation of written documents, we cannot at present even outline the history of the Gregorian repertory. The earliest surviving chant books, written around 900, include variants and additional material. It is possible to penetrate backward from these earliest books a little way by studying the history of the liturgies which the chant accompanied, but even granting the relationship of music and liturgy, the historical results are not at present conducive to a clear picture.

One has to distinguish among several local rites of greater or lesser importance, including Roman, Milanese or Ambrosian, Mozarabic or Spanish (that is, Toledo), and assorted Gallican practices. The Roman rite—or at any rate, the Roman rite that came North—immediately engendered endless local variants due to errors in transmission, if not variation at the source itself. Then, as this imported Roman rite was established in various localities, it acquired in each a different set of additions and expansions. The Franks enthusiastically imitated Byzantine practices, borrowing isolated melodies with or without Greek texts. They also borrowed from the Mozarabic liturgy and probably elsewhere. Nor was all this variation purely local: crisscrossing back and forth went the lines of communication of the great monastic orders, such as the Benedictines, carrying chant versions far beyond the normal barriers of geography, language, and local government.

The most important fact to remember when dealing with these variations—and with the whole Gregorian repertory—is that by the time of our earliest chant books with written melodies (around 900) the Christian Church had been singing for a period almost half as long as its present age; furthermore, that period saw the Church’s greatest growth and development. Obviously musical style did not remain static up to 900, nor is it likely that it developed in a single, well-defined direction. At most we can assume only the normal continuity of stylistic growth. Inheriting centuries of accumulated techniques and meaning, the Roman chant of the 700s was highly stylized and extremely sophisticated when, at the end of its long, intricate development, it was taken over by the Franks.

For our purposes, we can pass over the problems of the history of Gregorian chant; we need to be acquainted with it only as a block of music embedded in liturgy. The stylistic development we will be tracing (at least up to 1600) took place in the Frankish sphere of influence. For the sake of understanding that development we need to know the Roman chant only as it was known in the North, in versions resembling those now standard. We need to see the Roman, or better, the Gregorian style as the Carolingians themselves idealized it—perfect, complete, in many ways inscrutable, without a past and largely without a stylistic future.

ROMAN LITURGY

One of the most orderly features of Gregorian chant is the way various styles of chant are assigned different functions in the worship service. The Gregorian repertory includes a wide range of styles; very simple chant is reserved for simple occasions, or for those portions of festive occasions where the text being sung is far more important than the music, or where both text and music merely accompany an important liturgical action. More elaborate styles are used for more festive occasions, or for those portions of the service whose function is largely musical.

A large part of the Gregorian repertory is service music in the sense that its principal purpose is to accompany or solemnify the action of worship; such music does not claim to be a complete artistic experience in itself. Only a few kinds of Gregorian chant are designed to occupy the listener’s full attention, and these kinds are carefully placed in the service so that full attention may be given them. In judging and analyzing Gregorian styles, one must know the intended liturgical function of a piece.

The most important service of the Roman Church was, and is, the mass—important first for theological reasons, but important to us because music for the mass is the central part of the Gregorian repertory. Over the centuries this service, originally a simple, direct sequence of events, has been surrounded by much supplementary ritual, as naturally happens to any well-loved, oft-repeated action. For musical purposes, however, we need to know only the main outlines of the liturgical action. Furthermore, we need to concern ourselves primarily with those portions that attracted the attention of composers.

The Roman mass consists of two disparate parts, descended from two distinct services. The first part, called synaxis (cf. synagogue), consists basically of a prayer, a Scripture reading or lesson, the singing of a part of a psalm, and another lesson. The alternation of lessons and psalm singing, descended from Judaic practice, is basic to much of Christian worship. The prayer is called a collect, in that it is a public prayer sung by the priest on behalf of all present. The collect is sung to a simple melodic formula or tone, to be described shortly. It is the prayer of the day, varying from Sunday to Sunday in order to point up the significance of the great feasts, such as Christmas and Easter, and the seasons surrounding them. The first lesson, called the epistle, is usually taken from the Epistles of Paul in the New Testament, and the second lesson, called the gospel, is from one of the four Gospels. As with the collect, there is a different epistle and gospel reading for each Sunday and feast day. Epistle and gospel are sung by the priest to melodic formulas similar to those used for the collect.

synaxis of the mass (oldest elements)

collect (prayer of the day)

epistle (first Scripture lesson)

gradual (singing of part of a psalm)

gospel (second Scripture lesson)

The portion of the psalm sung by the choir between the lessons, called the gradual, is the main musical event of the mass. No other liturgical action goes on. The text of the gradual is very short (two verses of a psalm), unlike the texts of the lessons that surround it; the music of the gradual, however, is relatively long. By the time the Roman mass reached the Franks, the gradual had been joined by another elaborate chant, the alleluia, also a musical event in its own right. Both gradual and alleluia vary from day to day, in melody as well as text. Since the alleluia (Praise the Lord!) is unsuited to times of penitence, it is replaced during Lent by a psalmodic piece called a tract, also very elaborate. In the very joyful season after Easter, the gradual in turn is replaced by an additional alleluia, making two alleluias between the epistle and gospel. The liturgical space between the two lessons of the synaxis is thus filled with the most important music of the mass.

chants between the lessons

Substantial additions were made over the centuries at the beginning of the synaxis. By the time the Roman mass reached the Franks it had acquired a solemn processional song for the choir called an introit (going-in song), consisting of verses from a psalm with a refrain or antiphon. (Other now-familiar additions, including Kyrie and Gloria in excelsis, were just receiving artistic definition in Carolingian times; they will be taken up later.) The introit, like the gradual and alleluia (and tract), varies in text and music from day to day. Unlike the chants between the lessons, however, the introit is, or was originally, service music, sung during the procession. More functional, the introit is less elaborate than the gradual or alleluia; but since it is for the mass, it is still festive.

The second half of the Roman mass is peculiarly Christian, performed in obedience to the Lord’s command at the Last Supper to take bread and wine, bless them, and eat in remembrance of me. This part of the mass is called the eucharist (from the Greek word for blessing); it is also called Holy Communion. Basically a series of acts (Take . . . bless . . . eat . . .), it offers less opportunity for purely musical display.

The chants for the eucharist are almost entirely functional, deriving their names and forms from the actions they accompany. While the bread and wine are being taken from the offerings of the congregation, the choir sings an offertory, which consisted originally of a psalm and antiphon as at the introit. As at the introit, this psalm was once sung complete; after Carolingian times it was eliminated, leaving only the antiphon.

The eucharistic blessing, or rather the beginning of it called the preface, is sung by the priest to an especially elaborate formula or tone. (At the end of the preface comes the Sanctus—but this part does not concern us now.) The main part of the blessing, called the canon, is said by the priest in a low voice. At the end of the canon, the eucharistic blessing is concluded with the Lord’s Prayer, sung to a solemn tone. During the communion itself still another psalm and antiphon, called communion, were once sung complete by the choir, but in Carolingian times, this was reduced to the antiphon. (Certain now-familiar additions to the eucharist, the Agnus Dei in particular, will be taken up later.) Functional, like the introit, the offertory and communion changed from day to day.

The five items, introit, gradual, alleluia, offertory, and communion, together with collect, epistle, and gospel, make up the proper of the mass; their texts, changing from day to day, are proper or appropriate to a particular occasion, such as Christmas or Easter. Collect, epistle, and gospel (as well as preface and the Lord’s Prayer) are sung by the priest to standard tones that stay the same from day to day. Introit, gradual, alleluia, offertory, and communion are sung by the choir, each proper text having its own melody. This group of five items constitutes the central portion of the Gregorian repertory, as it came North to the Franks and as we know it today. When we speak of the mass propers, or of the proper of the mass, we mean this repertory of texts and melodies provided for the Sundays, holy days, and saints’ days of the Christian year.

RECITATION FORMULAS

The melodic formulas or tones for the collect, epistle, and gospel are relatively simple, being purely functional. At the same time, they may be from the oldest preserved strata—along with the more elaborate tones for preface and the Lord’s Prayer—and hence furnish a convenient introduction to Gregorian chant. Even if the musical interest of these items is not so great as other types of chant, still they expose to our view tonal progressions of a remote, fascinating quality.

(Throughout this book, tonal will be used as an adjective for tone, rather than for tonality. Thus a tonal progression is a progression of tones, that is, notes or pitches; tonal order is an order pertaining to notes or pitches, as contrasted, say, with rhythmic order. The use of tone in chant to refer to a formula consisting of a few pitches may seem confusing at first, but is actually a logical and useful extension of the use of tone for a pitch, then for an interval. In any case tone, in its Latin forms, was the preferred term in the Middle Ages.)

The ancient prayer tone for the collect consists of only two pitches a whole tone apart. Example 1 contains the ending formula of the collect, a formula in text as well, called a doxology or glorification. The preceding part of the collect, not much longer than this doxology, is sung to the same two pitches arranged in the same pattern. Most of the text is recited on the upper of the two pitches (A), the lower (G) forming inflections at beginning and end of phrases. It is by no means clear from the internal structure of this prayer tone which of the two pitches is to be the final one. This tonal ambiguity, resulting in a sense of suspension, is one of the most characteristic, appropriate, and attractive features of the Gregorian style.

EXAMPLE 1   PRAYER TONE

(Through our Lord Jesus Christ thy Son, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. . Amen.)

The notation of Example 1 is a type developed around 1200 and still in use for modern chant books. In spite of the unfamiliar square notes, the groupings of two or more notes over a single syllable into a neume, and the four-line staff with movable C clef, this type of notation has proved extremely practical for chant, possessing many advantages over more modern notation. Chant is notated at whatever pitch level reduces accidentals to a minimum, with the understanding that any chant may be sung at any convenient absolute pitch. The neume over saecu-lomeans response and is used in a number of different contexts; here it indicates the congregational response, Amen, to the collect.

Square notation contains no intrinsic indication of relative lengths of notes. Consequently, the rhythm of the chant has been the subject of endless discussion. The most practical solution (the one most widely accepted) is to treat each note as more or less equal in length, thinking of that length as equivalent to an eighth note of modern notation.

Certain interpretative rhythmic signs have been devised by the Benedictines of Solesmes (France), the leaders in the restoration of Gregorian chant to something approaching its original form and dignity. These signs will be used in the examples of this book. In Example 1 the dot (after tu-um, De-us, saeculo-rum, A-men) is one of the Solesmes interpretative signs; it means a doubling of the note it follows. Other signs are the various bars and partial bars, which are analogous to punctuation; in prayer tones and lesson tones, these correspond closely to the punctuation of the text. The double bar marks the end of a piece or a change of performer.

The central part of the eucharist, in between the offertory and communion antiphons, is governed by one basic set of prayer tones, which may be very old indeed. This part of the service begins (after the offertory) with a dialog between priest and congregation, and then continues with the preface. The dialog and invariable beginning of the preface is given in Example 2; the rest of the preface has a different text proper to important seasons, but is sung to the tone given for the opening. The rest of the great prayer of blessing is said by the priest in a low voice, while the congregation is silent. Then at the end, the Lord’s Prayer (or Pater noster) is sung in a tone related to the preface, forming its musical conclusion.

The dialog (Example 2) proceeds by alternating a phrase for the priest, called a versicle. The two-note neume on vo-biscum represents two notes, first G, then A. On sur-sum appears an ornamental three-note neume called quilisma, representing the notes A and C connected by some kind of decoration—just what we do not know; the Benedictines recommend prolonging the A slightly, then sliding easily through B to reach C.

EXAMPLE 2   SURSUM CORDA AND PREFACE TONE

( . The Lord be with you. . And with thy spirit. . Lift up your hearts. . We lift them up unto the Lord. . Let us give thanks unto our Lord God. . It is meet and right so to do.

It is very meet and right, just and salutary for us at all times and in all places to give thanks: O Lord Holy, Father Almighty, Everlasting God, who with the only begotten. . .)

The introductory nature of the melody for the dialog is obvious; climbing slowly, it leads naturally into the preface. So involved is the melodic motion, so intricate and oblique its prevailing ascent, that one is hardly aware of its narrow limits; all takes place within the range of a fourth. This intricate kind of motion is another of the characteristic features of Gregorian chant.

The preface tone itself (Example 2, Vere dignum. . .) has two elements. The first rises to the top of the fourth G-C, reciting on C and descending to the note below for a half cadence; this element may be repeated several times (here only once). The other melodic element recites on B, descending eventually to A for a full cadence. This element is not immediately repeated, but forms the conclusion to a series of statements of the first element, whereupon the whole sequence is repeated as often as necessary to intone the given text (for example, XXXY, XXY, XXXXY . . .). In general the last notes and neumes of each formula are fixed, while elasticity is provided by the interior of the formula, especially the reciting notes, C and B. The principle, then, of this preface tone is similar to that of the prayer tone in Example 1, but its structure is more elaborate.

Even though both text and music of the Pater noster are invariable (Example 3), it still uses formulas, which are very similar to those of the preface except that they do not press up to the top of the fourth so insistently. The half cadence is made on G, the bottom of the fourth, the full cadence on A, the note above. The balance between overall clarity of phrase and intricacy of detail, combined with the sense of suspension associated with the whole tones around the final, makes this melody the most appropriate ever written for the Pater noster.

EXAMPLE 3   PATER NOSTER

(Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation. . But deliver us from evil. Amen.)

Simplicity is not a reliable mark of antiquity in the Gregorian repertory. Although we do not know for certain that the tones already studied are very old, we do know that other prayer tones and lesson tones simpler than these are considerably more recent. The more recent tones (dating, say, after 1000) share a tendency to recite on a note forming the top of a half step (F or C), a position that gives the reciting note much sharper definition than in the tones we studied.

OFFICE PSALMODY

The parts of the proper of the mass sung by the choir—introit, gradual, alleluia (or tract), offertory, and communion—are naturally much more complex than prayer and lesson tones. To understand them we need to examine first the way of singing psalms, psalmody, codified by the Roman Church. During the early centuries psalmody was the backbone of Christian services outside the mass, services that were performed by parish churches, by clergy attached to cathedrals, and by the fast-growing monasteries, where the whole psalter of 150 psalms came to be sung every week at a daily cycle of services.

These services, called offices, had a long, complex evolution. They came to consist in Carolingian times of a morning service (lauds) and an evening service (vespers), a very large night service (matins), and a series of very short services throughout the day at three-hour intervals (prime, terce, sext, none, and—after vespers—compline).

Matins, lauds, and vespers all begin with the singing of several psalms, and then continue with the basic Judaic pattern of Scripture lesson followed by a sung portion of a psalm, called at matins a responsory. At lauds and vespers the lesson is vestigial, and instead of a responsory, a canticle or song from the New Testament is sung, for example, the Magnificat. All these items involve music of greater or lesser complexity, ranging from very simple formulas for the psalms (psalm tones) to elaborate settings for the responsories comparable to graduals.

On festive occasions psalms are provided with antiphons, short texts set to their own independent melodies. The text might come from the psalm itself, or from elsewhere in Scripture, or might be newly composed; the meaning of the text makes the antiphon (and, by association, the psalm) proper to the occasion. The first antiphon proper to Christmas matins, for example, goes, The Lord said unto me, Thou art my son, this day have I begotten thee, which even though taken from an Old Testament psalm expresses the New Testament theme of Christmas. Antiphons were used in various ways to frame the singing of a psalm. Sometimes the antiphon was repeated after every psalm verse like a refrain; but the common practice after Carolingian times was and is to sing the antiphon only at beginning and end of the psalm.

Example 4 gives another antiphon from Christmas matins. The text, Suscepimus Deus, comes from the psalm it accompanies, Psalm 47 (Psalm 48 in the English Psalter, which has a slightly different numbering from the Latin Psalter). The asterisk after Deus indicates the point at which the choir starts singing; every choral piece of chant is begun by a cantor (soloist) to set the pitch. Example 4 contains two more Benedictine rhythmic signs, a small horizontal mark above or below a note, and a vertical one. The horizontal mark, called episema (De-us), prolongs its note slightly. The vertical mark, called ictus (sus-cep-), suggests a rhythmic grouping. Since chant is irregular, it cannot be counted in an unbroken succession of twos or of threes (or of multiples of two or three); if it is to be counted, the counting must be done by an irregular succession of groups of two and three. The ictus suggests places to begin a new group—where to count one.

Antiphons are among the glories of Gregorian chant. They are typically as short as Suscepimus Deus, and frequently as simple, but this simplicity conceals an extraordinary degree of artistry. It is hard to imagine a more compact melody, or one with more elegance. Antiphons such as this one are so compact as to resist analysis. They obviously go up and down, sometimes returning to where they came from, as here, sometimes not, but the mysterious ingredients that make them art seem concealed under centuries of Mediterranean musical culture. Not all melody is so inscrutable; in the Frankish melodies we will soon meet, the rationale is more plainly evident.

While the purely melodic logic of the antiphon may escape us, it is possible to observe the close relationship between the melody and its text. Pieces of this type are called syllabic, since each syllable gets a note. The syntax and prosody of the text show up directly in the phrases of the music—as if this melody had been made especially for this text. In a sense it was; but it may be surprising to learn that this antiphon melody, which is so beautifully wedded to its text, belongs to a large group of antiphons, all having the same basic melody.

EXAMPLE 4   ANTIPHON (mode 8)

(We wait for thy mercy, O God, in the midst of thy temple.)

This basic melody is not an elastic formula like a prayer tone, but is a slightly different phenomenon called a melody type. It has no reciting note, but is adapted more freely to each new text, resulting each time in a closed, apparently unique melody, different in nature from the open-ended recitation formulas. There are a number of melody types among the more than one thousand antiphons of the Gregorian offices. Other examples using the same melody as Suscepimus Deus, as well as other melody types, can be conveniently studied in the matins service for Good Friday, one of the Tenebrae of Holy Week.

The overall impression of clarity made by Suscepimus Deus is due in large part to its brevity, something that becomes apparent upon examining larger, more complex Gregorian antiphons. Suscepimus Deus is not regular in the relative lengths of its phrases, or at any rate, its musical phrases depend on the text phrases, which in psalm texts are apt to be irregular. As antiphons become longer and more ornate, the irregularity of phrase shape leads easily to diffuse contours. The antiphon becomes obscure in its larger shape without necessarily losing its perfection of detail. Larger antiphons such as Genuit puerpera, Angelus ad pastores, or Facta est cum angelo (all from Christmas lauds) are characteristically Gregorian in their veiled outlines, but no less beautiful thereby.

Antiphons were designed to be part of a larger piece, the singing of a whole psalm. The psalm itself is sung to a psalm tone, selected from a set of eight such tones according to the tonal structure of the antiphon. The particular set of eight psalm tones used for simple office psalmody may be Carolingian; we will return to this problem later. But singing psalms with psalm tones of some description is an age-old custom of Christians.

The simple psalm tone that would be used in connection with Suscepimus Deus is given in Example 5. The selection of an antiphon to go with a particular psalm (in this case, Suscepimus Deus for Psalm 47 at Christmas matins) is a liturgical matter that need not concern us. But the selection of the psalm tone (in this case, the eighth) is a musical choice dictated by the nature of the antiphon melody. Like the prayer tone, the psalm tone has a reciting note (C for the eighth psalm tone) and inflections at the beginning of the first half and at the end of both halves. These two halves correspond to the two halves into which each verse of every psalm is divided, making it possible to sing any psalm to any tone.

The inflection at the beginning, called intonation, is sung only at the beginning of the first verse of the psalm. The inflections in the middle and at the end, the mediant and final cadences, are adapted to the accents of the text by using or omitting the notes immediately following the accent notes. The mediant cadence stays up on C and the final descends to G—a simple reinforcement of textual shape by tonal differentiation.

Each verse of the psalm would be sung to the same tone; only the first two verses are given in Example 5. Since the psalms were inherited from the Jews, Christians were accustomed to add the peculiarly Christian doxology Gloria Patri (Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen) whenever using psalms in worship services. This doxology, treated as two verses, is sung to the same tone as the psalm. Since psalm tones are abstract formulas, they can be used for languages other than Latin. The English translation given in Example 5 is set up so that it may be sung just like the Latin.

EXAMPLE 5   EIGHTH PSALM TONE

The antiphon, Suscepimus Deus, would be sung before and after Psalm 47 sung to this tone. Formerly, as was mentioned, the antiphon was sung after each verse of the psalm (hence sixteen times in all!). This meant that the end of each verse should be smoothly modulated into the beginning of the antiphon. Although the choice of psalm tone depended on the tonal structure of the whole antiphon, the return to the antiphon was accomplished by varying only the end of the psalm tone, according to the first two or three notes of the antiphon. Most psalm tones had several alternate endings, called differences. In the present case the psalm tone ends on G, the same note on which the antiphon begins, making a very clear connection. If an antiphon with a similar melody type began on C, its psalm tone, still the eighth, might have a slightly different cadence ending on C. Very often it was preferred not to have the psalm tone end and the antiphon begin on the same note, but rather on different notes that yet seemed related in context.

Psalmody was something that Christians, especially monks, did and do as a work in praise of God—at the rate of 150 psalms a week in singing monasteries. Psalmody is not intended as an artistic experience in itself, nor are the psalm tones anything other than functional, at least in the simple forms under discussion. Nonetheless, even these tones have the artistry, the stylistic polish characteristic of the whole Gregorian repertory. The inflections are simple, but they are right; they have to be, to stand up under the use they have been getting day and night for over a thousand years.

PROPERS OF THE MASS

Psalmody was used at mass for those places where functional music was needed to accompany liturgical action—at the introit, offertory, and communion. Because it was the mass, both the antiphons and psalm tones were more ornate than those for the offices. Originally all of a psalm was sung (as we saw) or as much as was needed, including the Gloria Patri; but during or after Carolingian times the introit was cut down to the antiphon, one psalm verse, and doxology, while of the communion only the antiphon was left. The offertory blossomed out for a while in extremely florid psalm verses, sung no longer to psalm tones but to specially composed melodies. These, however, were later dropped, leaving here, too, only the antiphon.

Example 6 gives the introit Resurrexi for Easter Sunday, including the antiphon, one psalm verse, and doxology; the antiphon is repeated after the doxology. Antiphon and psalm tone are each distinct formal units. Not only are they different in style, but in tonal area as well, the antiphon in this case lying consistently lower than the psalm tone. The sense of departure in the psalm verse, and of return in the repeat of the antiphon, is very marked. Formal clarity at this higher level is not, however, consistently reinforced by the detail—a condition true of most larger Gregorian forms and truer as the forms get larger.

This introit is distinguished from previous examples by having frequently several notes to one syllable; such chant is called neumatic. (The dialog before the preface, Example 2, was mildly neumatic.) These neumes, or groups of notes, stretch the value of the syllables, giving the text a somewhat different shape than it would have in a purely syllabic chant. The text phrases are still reflected in the musical phrases, but less strongly. The neumes give more weight to musical aspects of the phrasing.

The notation is slightly more complex than previous examples. The three notes on Resurre-xi, written close together on the same pitch (called tristropha) were originally an ornament of some kind. The second group on sum, on the other hand, is simply the three pitches G-F-G—not the portamento the note shape might suggest. In general, when two notes are written close together on the same pitch (alle-lu-, posu-, allelu-ia, fac-ta) they are sung as one note twice as long. In the next to last alleluia of the antiphon, the neumes on al- and lu-, called liquescent, each represent the two notes G–F, but with the F sung lightly on the following liquid consonant, l or i. The ictus, as used in this piece, suggests rhythmic groupings within a neume.

The antiphon text Resurrexi contains three phrases, punctuated by the exclamation alleluia!—an exclamation found everywhere during the Eastertide liturgies. The first phrase occupies the fourth D–G, ending on E; the second phrase occupies the fifth D–A, ending on F; the third phrase the sixth C–A, ending on—E ! Here again, there is little in the internal structure of the tune that points toward E; but then, there is little that points to any other note either. Swinging back and forth, the melody expands its small compass so slowly that the mere addition of the C or the rise to the A seems in context to be a major development. The melody uses all the notes in its compass so often and in so many different ways that almost any one could be made to serve as a final, if properly prepared. The significance of the final E is better read the other way around: it bestows upon this intricate melody a stronger character than it might otherwise have. Many chants in the Gregorian repertory use the E ending, handling it in a variety of sophisticated ways.

EXAMPLE 6   INTROIT (mode 4)

(I am risen, and am now with thee, alleluia; thou hast placed thy hand on me, alleluia; thy knowledge is made wonderful, alleluia, alleluia.

Ps. O Lord, thou hast searched me out and known me; thou knowest my downsitting and my uprising. Glory be . . .)

The sophisticated character of this introit, the somber quality of its melody, may seem ill-suited to the Easter joy. This character is perhaps the most difficult, remote aspect of Gregorian chant. There are many radiant Gregorian pieces; the introit Puer natus est nobis (For us a child is born) for Christmas is an example easily understood as appropriate for that occasion. But for some important occasions the Gregorian repertory is apt to provide chant more evocative of deeper meaning by being less obvious in its musical style. In pieces such as Resurrexi, whose musical significance seems to exceed its purely functional requirements, we can learn the meaning of musical solemnity. Resurrexi has a quality theologians call numinous, or pertaining to the godhead.

Simple, functional chant is characterized by a predominantly syllabic style. Chant of higher artistic import tends to be increasingly neumatic, increasingly further away from the syllabic style. After a neume reaches five or six notes in length it is usually called a melisma. Melismas of up to thirty or forty notes are characteristic of graduals, alleluias, and tracts, which are described as melismatic, as opposed to syllabic or neumatic. Not all syllables of a chant will carry huge melismas, in fact, only a few, but those few are sufficiently impressive to distinguish melismatic chant sharply from other types.

If neumes of two or three notes stretch syllabic values, altering the textual phrase shapes, extended melismas disrupt the shape completely by the intrusion of purely musical development. Gregorian melismas, however, are inclined to be rhapsodically ornamental rather than clearly structured. They do not replace the textual phrasing with more cogent musical forms, but simply interrupt the phrasing with musical ornament; underneath, the textual phrases still operate as best they can. The musical values of melismatic chant—and they are very great—are values not of expansive structure but rather of decorative expression.

The full range of the expressive values of Gregorian chant is found only in the melismatic chants that come between epistle and gospel at mass. The gradual A summo caelo (Example 7) is not from one of the great popular festivals, such as Christmas or Easter, but from an equally ancient liturgy called Ember Saturday in the season of Advent, a liturgy that has not two but four lessons, each followed by a gradual. These graduals are all on the same melody type, and this type may be very old indeed. Many other graduals, including one for Christmas (Tecum principium, Midnight Mass) and another for Easter (Haec dies), use this melody type, but in an adapted form. A summo caelo is one of the most straightforward examples.

Graduals have two parts, each built on one verse of a psalm. The first part is called response, the second part, verse—a confusing but traditional use of this latter term merely to designate the section that alternates with the response. The response is sung by the full choir (except for the intonation up to the asterisk, which, as in all Gregorian choral pieces is sung by a cantor); the verse is sung by the cantor (except for the conclusion marked by the asterisk after annuntiat, which is sung by the choir).

EXAMPLE 7   GRADUAL (mode 2)

( . His going out is from the uttermost part of the heaven; and his circuit unto the end thereof.

. The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handywork.)

; but after Carolingian times this repeat was dropped. Like other Gregorian forms, this one stands at the end of a long development almost entirely hidden from view. There are obvious similarities to the use of an antiphon with psalmody, but just as obvious differences. In A summo caelo there is a clear rounding of the verse melody to correspond to the end of the response; this happens in other gradual melodies too. In the case of this melody type, the tune for the response is very similar to the tune for the verse, tempting one to think of this melody as an extremely florid psalm tone. But the form in which this melody reaches us is so many stages removed from a recitation formula—if it is really derived from one—that it is better to think of this gradual simply as a melody type.

The response has two phrases, each divided again in two; all phrases end on the final, A, and all fill more or less the same tonal space centered on the third A–C, but extending down to F, and up to F an octave above. Each phrase, however, fills this space differently: the first starts low, and the second becomes involved in a dark modulation via a B flat; the third starts assertively on C, while the fourth starts low on F, rising through a very expressive melisma to the octave above in the convolutions already familiar to us from Pater noster and introit, but now expressed in a far more elaborate way. The high artistry of the gradual is reflected in its more intricate notation, involving groupings of neumes and ornamental neumes as well as a greater number of rhythmic signs added by the Benedictine editors. A melody such as A summo caelo requires careful working out before it makes musical sense.

If the response is difficult, the verse (Caeli enarrant) is more so. In this solo part the melismas get even longer and more ecstatic, completely overunning the structural outlines of the text. It is possible, however, for a trained singer to sing the phrase on Caeli enarrant in one breath, endless melisma and all, producing an effect of outward sophistication and inner luminosity unique to Gregorian melismatic chant.

The verse, like the response, has two phrases, each subdivided. Here the cadences are more varied, the first being on D above A, the third on F below A. The overall design, then, is very clear—but who hears it? The interior of each phrase, rich with melismatic expression, gives no hint of what the approaching cadence will be or when it will come. Ornament, not structure, is all one hears. The infinitely subtle alternation of A with a decorated C on De–i is especially characteristic of this style.

of graduals and responsories.

The phrases that make up the melody types found in tracts are combined in ways more varied than in the gradual melody types represented by A summo caelo. This more varied procedure, called centonization, draws upon a repertory that may include, for example, alternate opening formulas, or alternate closing formulas. Centonization permits phrases to be joined in several alternate orders. The family of graduals represented by Viderunt omnes, for Christmas (Third Mass), is one of the best examples of centonized melody.

The alleluia of the mass is similar to the gradual in form as well as style. Although its origins are obscure, the alleluia began probably as an ornate, perhaps melismatic, setting of the word alleluia, as the gradual, with the word alleluia being the response.

Of all the chants of the Gregorian repertory, the alleluia is the only one that at present permits a reasonable guess at its stylistic development. Some alleluias, at any rate, are very different from others, and there are grounds for saying which ones are older. The type usually identified as the oldest has a modest setting of the word alleluia, then, on the final syllable, a melisma (later called jubilus) of perhaps twenty notes. The moderately melismatic verse of this oldest type is not related melodically to the alleluia. The classic example is the Alleluia Dies sanctificatus for Christmas, also used as a melody for other feasts, especially during the Christmas season.

Slightly later alleluias have extended melismas attached either to the word alleluia, or within the verse, especially at the end. The Alleluia Ostende for the First Sunday in Advent (also used as a melody type for other occasions) has a spectacular melisma at the end of its verse, remarkable for its tonal wandering. A still later type is represented by the Alleluia Justus germinabit (Example 8, for feasts of martyrs; the sign ij means repeat: after the solo intonation, the choir enters at the asterisk, first repeating alleluia and then going on to the jubilus). Here the melisma for the alleluia is extended, but more important, the melody for the verse is closely related to the melody for the alleluia, if not derived from it. Finally, there is an extended melisma at the end of the verse identical with that of the word alleluia.

Thus the form of the alleluia has been strongly rounded, making a musical AA1A instead of the original ABA. The endings of A and A1 are identical, the variation taking place in the middle. Sometimes this variation is expressed by a totally unrelated melisma interpolated into the middle of the verse, as in the Alleluia Christus resurgens (Fourth Sunday after Easter), where the word mors (death) has one of the mightiest of these internal, unrelated verse melismas. This most recent type of alleluia came about little by little; one can find examples with some but not all of the features mentioned.

Besides these formal changes, more subtle stylistic changes are represented by the Alleluia Justus germinabit (Example 8). Individual phrases possess a high degree of tonal focus. Immediately after the first asterisk, the melody makes an unmistakable half cadence on A, then a full cadence on D in a manner that not only leaves no doubt, but is preceded by a definite aura. In comparison, the older graduals seem tonally ambiguous. It should be noticed, however, that the tonal clarity of the alleluia is not a product of the large rounded form, nor does it seem to contribute to that form. The tonal clarity has to do with the way an individual phrase is constructed. The first line of the piece, for example, is so solid, so urbane, that it makes its tonal point on style alone. But the clarity within such a phrase does not have structural implications outside the phrase. In this and similar alleluias, especially the Alleluia Justi epulentur, and the Alleluia Christus resurgens already mentioned, the phrases are placed consistently on D, giving a homogeneity to the whole; but if these same clear phrases were not all grouped on the same tone, they would not by themselves give the piece unity. The Alleluia Surrexit Dominus (Easter Tuesday) is an interesting case—whether earlier or later is hard to say—of the same idioms used in a subtly different context.

EXAMPLE 8   ALLELUIA (mode 1)

(Alleluia, alleluia. . The righteous man shall spring up like the lily, and shall flourish forever before the Lord.)

There are indications that alleluias were among the last pieces composed for the Gregorian repertory—composed, that is, as part of a living stylistic development, for the Gregorian repertory has been expanded right up to the present by imitating the original models. But of all the chant brought North to the Franks, the alleluias seem to have been the most recent. The Alleluia Justus germinabit, for example, might have been composed during the mid-700s. In their effect of tonal clarity these alleluias, of all Gregorian chant, are nearest to the kind of music the Franks themselves were soon to develop. Yet even when a Frankish composer wrote an alleluia à la grégorienne, there was a subtle difference: the Gregorian alleluia, no matter how recent, derived its clarity from centuries of Mediterranean refinement.

CHANT THEORY

Gregorian chant came North either in the minds and ears of cantors (Roman or Frankish) or in a book, called an antiphonary because it contained the antiphons of the mass