“This
cantiga tells how King Alfonso of Castile suffered in Vitoria and had a
pain so great that they thought he would die from it. They put upon him
a book of the Cantigas de Santa Maria to cure him. [The King recounts
:] ... I didn't scream nor did I feel any pain at all, but felt well
instantly...”.
Cantiga 209, Muito faz grand'erro
Thus King Alfonso X, el Sabio,
tells in the first person how he was miraculously cured of a mysterious
illness (now thought to have been caused by a tumour of the maxillary
antrum) when the Book of Cantigas de Santa Maria made by his scribes was placed upon his frail, ailing body. In this, as in all the cantigas
in the Book, Alfonso wished to make it clear to all his subjects, at
every level of society, in an accessible language (the poetic
Galician-Portuguese vernacular) and a persuasive medium, that divine
grace was an everyday reality.
The Cantigas de Santa Maria,
whose compilation, lyrical rendering and organisational layout he
supervised (possibly with creative input of his own) were, like his
other literary projects, written to impart spiritual and worldly
knowledge for the moral edification of all his subjects. Poetic Latin
with its hermeneutic niceties he eschewed as it was available to only a
select few (especially as one of the effects of the centuries-long,
culturally enriching Muslim settlement was that Arabic and the Romance
dialect were the two main languages most used and understood in the
Iberian Peninsula, followed by Hebrew and then, the least accessible,
Latin).
Alfonso's active role in the compilation and possibly the
authorship of this spiritual song genre is clearly suggested in the
illuminations of three of the four surviving manuscript collections. In
these he is depicted as supervisor and instructor to the assembled
scholars, scribes and musicians, as well as playing various musical
instruments or acting as an earthly intermediary between a group of
musicians accompanying dancers and the Virgin Mary hugging baby Jesus.
The texts of many of the stories describe him taking part in the action.
There are two types of cantiga : the more prolific miracle song or cantiga de miragre and the song of praise or cantiga de loor. Nearly all the cantigas (both types) are narrated in the first person,often involving King Alfonso himself, for example : "This is the petition which the King made to Holy Mary" (C. 401) or introductory phrases such as "...how King Alfonso... as I heard tell".
The Cantigas de Santa Maria were written in the codex format, that is, bound between covers (as opposed to that of the rotulus,
or roll). This was possibly for ease and the type of usage. They
survive in four different manuscripts (three are incomplete), each one
of which is known as a Book. The Book of Cantigas de Santa Maria
(particularly the two different manuscripts held in the Real Monasterio
de El Escorial, b.1.2 and T.j.1) is not, like the mediaeval florilegium,
a collection of short excerpts and thematically disconnected bibs and
bobs used as a prompt-book to aid the memory in meditation, or to
compose sermons and so on. Rather, it is a cleverly structured
assemblage of lyrics (carefully organised poetic texts with beautiful
melodies), mono-thematic both in its dedication to a special person and
its morally uplifting purpose, sumptuously decorated with associative
pictures and illuminations and brought to fruition under the guiding
directorship of one person.
The organisation and conception of these factors alone set it apart as a unique lyrical document of the middle ages.
During
the reign of Alfonso X, the Castilian court (like that of his father
Ferdinand III and his grandfather Alfonso IX) was renowned for its
intellectual effulgence evinced in the breadth of scholarly productions
and the equally abundant artistic outpourings, all of which were
mutually enhanced by an enlightened, cosmopolitan atmosphere. For the
former, Alfonso built upon the translation work of the centuries-old
Toledo school, especially in his commissioning of texts in Castilian (a
language which, under his guidance, was equipped with a wider vocabulary
and a more flexible syntax). By Alfonso's efforts Castilian thus became
the main channel by which Arabic culture (which in its turn,
transmitted Persian, Indian and Greek material) filtered into Western
Europe. Prior to this the bulk of written literature from the Peninsula
had been in Arabic, Hebrew and Latin.
Distinguished poets and
musicians came to stay at his court, regardless of race and creed, to
display and develop their arts. Thus, for example, merit being the
standard, dozens of Castilian, Galician and Catalonian poets mingled
freely with Muslims and Jews along with troubadour visitors from
Provence (some fleeing the Albigensian Wars), Northern France, Italy,
Germany, England, Sicily and so on (such as João Airas, Gonzalo Eans de
Vinhal, João Soares Coelho, Fernan Gonçalves, Maria Balteira, Raimon
Vidal de Bezaudon, Folquet de Lunel, Sordel de Goito, Guiraut Riquier,
Todros Abulafia, Bonifacio Calvo).
As Alfonso tells us in the prologue to the Book of Cantigas de Santa Maria, he had formerly been a trobador
composing courtly songs of love and wit. Unfortunately, like all
secular Iberian lyrics of the middle ages (except, miraculously, the cantigas de amigo by Martin Codax), his more than 40 surviving lyrics lack melodies. They are found in two collections — the so-called Cancioneiro da Vaticana and the Cancioneiro da Biblioteca Nacional. By far the majority of these are witty, defamatory cantigas de escarnho e de maldizer,
whose contents give insights on his personality, as well as on his life
at court and on the battlefield. For example, he heaps sarcasm on the
foppish dress of certain noblemen, rebukes those courtiers who
disregarded his call to battle-arms, and scorns the treachery and
betrayal of men who came poorly equipped to the field, trembling and
pissing at the approach of Muslim cavalry, and then deserting as cowards
in mid-battle.
In another of these poems, blatantly lewd and extremely blasphemous, Alfonso pokes fun at the soldadeira
La Balteira, a woman of renowned charm and beauty, who for many years
sang, danced and played instruments at his court. He describes her
frustration when her conscience reminds her, in the act of copulation,
that she must desist as it is Good Friday. Lamenting, she likens her
anguish to Christ's Passion on the cross. Might we possibly speculate
that Alfonso's decision to focus his trobador skills on a more noble cause occurred because he suffered a kind of ennui with the frivolous, amatory dalliance and ribald satire of the courtly cantigas profanas written in his princely youth and his early years as king? Or, because in his history of the world (General Estoria)
his scholars only got as far as the birth of the Virgin Mary, did he
feel the need to honour her life and deeds in some unique way?
Whatever the actual reasons, the Prologue to the Book of religious cantigas (like the last stanza of Rosa das Rosas, C. 10) is a record of his vow to cease creating cantigas de amor for earthly women:
"I would like to sing praise to the Virgin, mother of our Lord, Holy Mary... from now on I wish to be her trobador...and also I wish now to cease composing for any other women."
In c.1274, during his 10-year sojourn at Alfonso's court, the poet Guiraut Riquier wrote in Provençal his bitter Supplicatio outlining the roles of jongleur, troubadour and "doctor of verse" (in response to this appeared a Declaratio,
attributed to Alfonso but probably also by Riquier). Riquier's
classification relates more to the poets and minstrels of Provence than
to their Iberian counterparts. These operated under a related but
slightly different hierarchy in which at the pinnacle came the trobador, the writer of songs (words and music) who could also compose dance pieces; then came the segrel (or segrer), usually a squire, who functioned as both composer and minstrel; and, finally, the jogral (or jograr)
who sang, narrated and played musical instruments, performed for the
nobility, was paid for his services and travelled far and wide across
countries and continents. Women minstrels, called soldadeiras (or juglaresas), were also employed to dance as well as sing and play instruments. They often travelled in company with jograis, segreis and even trobadores,
but were undervalued and subject to cruel restrictions. For example, in
his fourth Partida, Alfonso placed them and their daughters on the
lowest fringes of society along with servants, barmaids and prostitutes,
all of whom were forbidden to act as concubines to the ricos hombres.
Two of the illustrations in b.1.2 show such women, one of them possibly
the renowned Maria Balteira (the seductive butt of Alfonso's
above-mentioned satire).
The aesthetically lavish presentation of the various manuscripts of the Book of Cantigas de Santa Maria
would confirm that Alfonso's purpose in their assemblage was didactic.
In mediaeval society a book was a cue to the treasure-house of the
memory. Thomas Aquinas (13th century) stated this clearly: "Things are written down in material books to help the memory" and, according to Hugh of St Victor (10th century), thence came the purpose: "The start of learning, thus, lies in lectio [reading] but its consummation lies in meditation."
Furthermore, Cassiodorus (6th century), writing about the reason for
the abbreviated and sometimes random jottings which make up florilegia, stressed the need for building upon and filling out from the honeycomb of the memory :
"human judgement, if it is not adjusted and restored by things found in
[the works of] others, promptly will fall short of its true nature." Thus, for example, the texts alone of the Alfonsine cantigas de miragre
(which prove Mary's boundless mercy) contain dramatic elements in their
racy narration of amazing marvels which evoke a range of emotions.
These are analogous to the stock-in-trade verbal exempla used by
mendicant friars and popular preachers to strengthen their points.
Narrative structuring as a vital means of conveying messages to the
memory was recognised by Albertus Magnus :
"a fable, since it
is composed out of marvels is more affecting...because what is wonderful
by its vigorous motion causes questioning, and thence gives rise to
investigation and recollection." (De Bono, c. 1247)
Manuscript decoration, which was part of the painture of
language, was one of the gates to memory. The visual image helped the
reader to comprehend the text, as well as retain and recall it by
stimulating the emotions. The picture-diagrams in the Alfonsine Marian
manuscripts would thus encourage an associational heuristic, or
discovery procedure. But they, together with the labels, rubrics,
punctuation, layout and structure, were all part of the text's apparatus
which together combined "as an invitation to elaborate and recompose, ... an occasion for rumination and meditation, for the enjoyment of memoria" (Mary Carruthers). Describing his discovery in the 12th century of the 8th century Celtic Book of Kells, Giraldus Cambrensis stressed this emotional impact :
"The
oftener I see the book, and the more carefully I study it, the more I
am lost in ever fresh amazement, and I see more and more wonders in it."
Geoffrey
of Vinsauf too reminded his 13th century contemporaries that the
emotion of wonder works as a stimulus to the memory-cell, for it needs
to be delighted in case too much heavy food give it indigestion!
May it be then that the illustrations of performing musicians which punctuate the text in b.1.2 occur only before every cantiga
ending with the Roman numeral X, which is a song of praise, in order to
remind us of Mary's son Christ whose name in Greek begins with the same
sign? Do they further remind us that "ten" is the number of perfection?
Do they also remind us of a particular cantiga de loor : its
text, its sound, its meaning? As a whole, do they tell us that we
should, like David and the Temple Levites, clothe devout praises with
musical sound, with instruments as well as voices? When we look at the
melody under these images, are we reminded of the sound of the melody,
of the instruments above the melody, of all instruments which, in their
sounding, can be used to direct praises to the Virgin Mary, and of the
words and meanings of the text which is married to the melody?
Perhaps
too, private contemplation would remind the manuscript viewer of the
specific details of performance procedure? The parchment tells us only
what were the pitches of the basic melody, but nothing about tuning,
rhythms, gracing and other decorations, structuring of interludes, the
quality of the voice, the choice of instruments (if any), whether the
refrain was sung after every strophe or omitted in cases of
cross-strophe enjambement, instrumental renditions of melodies
(where performers and listeners would contemplate in their mind the
remembered but unsung texts), moving after the singing of the text to
ecstatic, joyful, religious dancing, and so on — that is, all the finer
details of actual performance.
Like the contents of Ibn Hazm's
books, the memory of the actual sound is lost to us forever. The sound
of a song was transmitted directly to the ear, its details not written
down on parchment but stored in the "sound-image" of the memory. The
notation of a secular song was rarely, if ever, used by actual
performers. Even in the 13th century, transmission was by sound to
ear-memory to sound again. Part of a chanson text by the troubadour
Jaufre Rudel confirms this :
"Without a parchment document
I send the song we sing
smoothly and in Romance language
to Lord Hugh Brun
by Filol."
A melody which stood before the eyes on the written page signified to viewers firstly
that the text was sung; even for those who could not and, more
comprehensively, for those who could decipher its notation, memory
fleshed out its visually skeletal shape in fuller performance details.
It
is interesting to compare the two types of illustration in the
miniatures of manuscripts b.1.2 and T.j.1. As already mentioned, those
in b.1.2 seem to be designed to act as memory joggers; they are part of
the punctuation of the layout of the texts; they visually mark out every
cantiga de loor, describing in their being the carefully planned
structure of the Book. The framed miniatures of musicians are nearly
all set against backgrounds of stylised, Arabic-like geometric
patternings, the exceptions being backgrounds of a single-colour wash,
mostly blue. Only three of the miniatures contain naturalistic
place-setting details (apart from chairs, stools, thrones) — the court
of King Alfonso (no. 1), the tree, hillock and grass (no. 340) and the
city house-roofs (no. 380). Generally speaking it seems that there is no
known or direct performance relationship between the cantiga de loor text and the miniature placed above it.
Those in manuscript T.j.1 seem to be quite different in their function. There are only 193 cantigas
in this source (its second volume lost) but 1,262 miniatures, making it
a veritable pictorial treasure-trove. Set out in "comic-book" formation
(often covering a whole page), they visually describe with realistic
detail (often with additional, synopsis-like text above each
picture-square) the series of events in a cantiga de loor or de miragre.
Scenes are placed dramatically before the viewer's eye and, on
contemplation, the memory can imaginatively work in further details of
the story (sensory and emotional feelings, reasons and ultimately,
meanings and connections).
As just mentioned, it does not seem
likely that the illustrations in b.1.2 "tell" us what instruments should
be used to accompany the particular cantiga de loor at whose
head they stand. For instance, that to number 120 shows two minstrels
playing chitarras: one a swarthy, barefooted Muslim in Arab burnous and
tunic, the other a pale-skinned, shod Christian in the gown, hat and
sword of a nobleman. Significantly, the "infidel" is on the left, the
Christian on the right with his mouth open as if singing. Perhaps all
that can be implied from this is that "even a Muslim can join with a
Christian in celebrating, with shared implements of music, the holiness
of Mary".
The corresponding illustration in T.j.1 (the first
picture-square of a six-square group covering the whole page) may
however, like other pictures in this source, relate to the events (real
or imagined) of a particular cantiga. Following the "house-style" model, one may be forgiven for construing the events as follows: "for this cantiga
King Alfonso (kneeling in the middle) advises his musicians, by look
and hand signal, to give earthly praise in the way depicted — that is,
with singing, dancing and playing of instruments — in honour of (as his
hand gestures also indicate) the heavenly Virgin Mary standing on the
right holding her baby son."
Manuscript b.1.2, the largest of all
four surviving sources — not in size, but in its contents (over 416
items) and number of pages (361) — is the main source of information
regarding performing musicians available to a cosmopolitan Castilian
king. In its 41 illustrations it shows various sorts of musicians
including only two women performers. Amongst the men are found one
Muslim and several Jews; the rest are (presumably) Christians (including
heretics). The various styles and colours of their garb (such as gowns,
capes, collars, scapulars, shoes, hats, crowns, hair formations on head
and face) distinguish their race, creed and age as well as social
status (ranging from the king himself to princes, courtiers, trobadors,
minstrels, clerics and peasants).
The vast instrumentarium
displayed here shows the following groupings : 27 pairs of musicians
playing the same instrument, 7 pairs playing different instruments, 6
solo instrumentalists, and one quartet playing two pairs of different
instruments. To our consideration of the information yielded by all this
we have also added two of the realistic illustrations in manuscript
T.j.1 — firstly, that to no. 62 which depicts (on the outdoor
battlements) two trumpeters and a group of twelve dancers in an
elaborate chain-dance formation, and secondly that to no. 120 whose
first comic-book square depicts the following instruments and
performers: three differently-shaped psalteries, a shawm, a vielle, two
singers (?) and, behind, three hand-linked dancers.
The following
lists show, in order of appearance, the instruments found in b.1.2. It
is noted with due apology that the nomenclature of these instruments is
difficult as there has been little agreement yet on this matter.
|
Single instrument (6) : vielle (on knee) bells (hammer-struck) bells (rope-pulled) organetto large psaltery double bagpipes Mixed pairs (7) : vielle, gittern vielle, mandora gittern, mandora rebec (on knee), ud large hornpipe (?), darabukka bombarde (?), castanets (rectangular) whistle (?), conch shell 2 identical pairs (1) vielles, gitterns |
Identical pairs (27) : large mandora psaltery (triangular) psaltery (trapezoid) psaltery (pig's snout) psaltery (rectangular) triple aulos plucked rebec lyra chitarra (plectrum) citole (fingers) citole (plectrum) sinfonye cymbals long necked vielle (performers standing) double pipes, with bag (?) double bladder-shawm flute bladder "crumhom" bagpipes (no drone) corn etto bagpipes (parallel drone) bombarde (?) trumpet double aulos pipe and tabor harp dulzaina (?) |
— • —
For more than two decades, the Renaissance Players have been blessed
by the keen support and enthusiasm of our second patron, Emeritus Professor Sir Peter Platt,
who in his time as Head made the Music Department of the University of Sydney
the intellectual jewel of the continent. To him we humbly dedicate this recording.
Notes by Winsome Evans © 1996
THE RENAISSANCE PLAYERS
director :
Winsome Evans, B.E.M., O.A.M.
patrons :
Professor Donald Peart
Emeritus Professor Sir Peter Platt
· Winsome Evans : treble and alto shawms, whistle, organetto, psaltery, harp, sinfonye, bells
· Ingrid Walker : whistle, gemshorn
· Katie Ward : vielle
· Benedict Hames : rebec, whistle
· Andrew Tredinnick : ud, gittern, chitarra moresca
· Llew Kiek : citole
· Barbara Stackpool : castanets, finger cymbals
· Andrew Lambkin: darabukka, daireh, tabor
· Mina Kanaridis : soprano
· Jenny Duck-Chong : mezzo-soprano, tambourine
· Mara Kiek : alto, tapan
· Tobias Cole : counter-tenor
· Geoff Sirmai : reader
Musical arranger © : Winsome Evans
Producer : Llew Kiek
Engineer : Guy Dickerson, Megaphon Studios
Translation : Dr Kathleen Kulp Hill, with permission, rights reserved, © 1994
Digital editing and compiling at Airmotion Studios : Geoff Sturre, All Music Manufacturing
Mastering Engineer : Wayne Baptist, Sony Music
Typesetting : Natalie Shea
Cover art : Winsome Evans
Special thanks to : Dr John Stevenson for his generous assistance with text paraphrases
INSTRUMENTS
· treble shawm : Philip Levin, U.S.A.
· whistle : Jonathan Swayne, U.S.A.
· gemshorn : Brian Garlick, England
· organetto : Ron Sharp, Australia
· chitarra moresca, ud : Peter Biffin, Australia
· gittern : Arnold Black, Australia
· citole : Guy Crayford, England
· vielle : Ian Watchorn, Australia
· rebec : Bernard Ellis, England
· harp : Frank O'Gallagher, Australia
· sinfonye : Bob Meadows, Australia
· psaltery : unknown, U.S.A.
· castanets : unknown, Spain
· finger cymblas : unknown, Malaysia
· daireh : unknown, India
· darabukka : unknown, U.S.A.
· tabor, tambourine : Jeremy Montagu, England
· tapan : Risto Todorovski, Australia
· bells : Whitechapel Bell Foundry, England
— • —
Once again we acknowledge our huge debt to the inspirational research of many scholars such as
Walter Mettman, José Filgueira Valverde, Joseph Snow, John Keller, Peter Dronke,
Mary Carruthers and Kathleen Kulp Hill (who so graciously gave permission for use of her ranslations).
None of this would have been possible in the initial stages without Dr John Stevenson
who supplied us with our first Englished texts.
Recorded at ST. Peters, Sydney
Copyright © 1996, The Renaissance Players
Walsingham CLASSICS
