© Barbara Haggh and Michel Huglo, 29 October, 2004
Gregorian Chant
to 900
Classroom
lecture presented at the Catholic University of America,
January 21, 2004
Barbara
Haggh and Michel Huglo
BARBARA
In 1473, the last year of his life, Guillaume
Fillastre, chancellor of the Burgundian Order of the Golden Fleece,
wrote a
book for Duke Charles the Bold. In his opening presentation therein, of
the
illustrious genealogy of the Burgundian dukes, he tells the story of
the
introduction of Gregorian chant under Charlemagne more or less
correctly: I
quote - “Having learned from the doctors of the Church and especially
from St
Augustine’s City of God, Charlemagne
sought to encourage learning and edify the French clergy. Thus he
brought
learning from Rome to Paris, since it seemed to him that God was more
devoutly
served in Rome. And because the chant of the church of Rome was more
consonant
than that of France or Italy, he wanted to drink from the pure fountain
and
sent to Rome two notable clerics to learn the chant of Rome, which is
that we
call the Gregorian Chant. Once they were instructed in the Roman chant,
they
returned to teach the Franks to sing in that manner which is still
today the
plainchant that we use. And the first church to be reformed was the
church of
Metz in Lorraine and the same was done in all of the churches of
France.”
As
Fillastre explains, the introduction of Roman chant to Francia and the
teaching
of correct singing were a part of Charlemagne’s program – quote “to
encourage
learning and edify the French clergy” – unquote. Charlemagne outlined
his
proposed educational reforms in paragraph 72 of his most famous
capitulary, the
Admonitio generalis of 789, which is
reproduced on your handout, page 1.
John Contreni has studied the modern reception of this paragraph
and
offers the following translation:
Let schools be established in every monastery and
bishopric for boys to read psalms, notes, chant, computus, grammar, and
well-corrected catholic books, for often when someone desires to
beseech God
effectively, they ask poorly because of uncorrected books. And do not
let your
boys,
either in dictating or copying, corrupt the
books.
If the task is to copy a gospelbook, psalter, or missal, let men of
mature age
do the copying with all diligence.
According
to Contreni, the emphasis here is on the importance of correct prayer
to God
The psalms were the foundation of the liturgy, and by learning to read
and
memorize them, boys would learn correct pronunciation of Latin and
build their
vocabulary. Contreni limits the ‘notas’ to Tironian notes, a Roman
shorthand
that was introduced in Francia, and some psalters do survive that were
written
entirely in Tironian notes, but the term had a wider range of meanings
according to Isidore of Seville, whose Etymologies were well known at
that
time. To Isidore notas were a variety of ‘signs in writing’, which
extended to
punctuation and even written symbols – consider his ‘military notas’. Notas were not musical notes in Isidore’s
writings, in our opinion, and in Contreni’s. See handouts p. 2 and 3.
Contreni
now comments, “Increasing facility in Latin language, both in
vocabulary and
pronunciation, taught students how to raise their voices correctly in
melodic
prayer. Perhaps just as modern Muslim boys chant surahs from the Koran
in their
madrassahs or Jewish boys chant verses from the Torah in their
yeshivas,
Christian boys in Charlemagne’s schools learned to sing the psalms
correctly,
with reading and memorization as a means to that end. In chapter 80 of
the
Admonitio, Charlemagne mandated that all clergy should learn the Roman
method
of chant which his father, Pippin, had substituted for the older chant
of
Francia, the Christian chant preceding the importation of Gregorian
chant.
Presumably this chant also needed to be sung correctly. Students would
learn
the chant in lessons and through daily participation in the liturgy -
often the
youngest singers were the most able to learn and sing the most
difficult chant.
Computus
was also learned by the boys, that is, the calculation of the date of
Easter
and therefore of the other important feast days in the church calendar.
A
diagram of the church calendar is on your handout, page 4.
Grammar,
the fifth topic students were to read, taught the boys the mechanics
and
analysis of language. Many grammar treatises were copied by Carolingian
scribes, and they include discussions of how words were constructed and
pronounced that are fundamentally important for the origins of musical
notation.
Finally
the study of the catholic books would teach the boys the mysteries of
the
Church. Now they could speak to God correctly.
What
was the Gregorian chant that young boys were to learn? Our earliest
witnesses
to the sung liturgical texts that comprised the chant repertory are
manuscripts
without musical notation dating from around 800. I have listed these in
your
handout on page 3 as part of a chronology of early Western Christian
chant. The
first fully notated manuscript only dates from c. 900: it is Chartres
47 (Palmus
11) in Breton neumes (Brittany) from northern France (Redon?).
In
the Carolingian Empire, Gregorian chant was sung in two contexts: as
part of
the mass, the liturgical reinactment of the Last Supper, and of the
office, a
series of worship services held throughout the day, which were centered
around
the chanting of the 150 psalms. See handout p. 4 and explain. Offices
and
masses were held throughout the year. Some commemorated the events in
Christ’s
life – they constitute the Temporale or Feasts of Time. Others were
held to
honor the saints of the Church, that is the twelve apostles, Christian
martyrs,
the fathers of the Church like St. Augustine, holy virgins, notably the
Virgin
Mary and the events in her life, and so on. In 800 there were few
saints,
meaning that some days in the church calendar might not celebrate
anyone in
particular, but by the time of the Council of Trent in 1553, calendars
overflowed with them.
The
music for the mass and office was composed to complement ritual texts,
such as the
psalms and readings from the Old and New Testaments, but also later,
newly-composed sermons and prayers, which increased in number after
Christianity was recognized by the Roman Emperor, Constantine. The
music
accompanied actions, but also allowed the congregation to reflect on
texts that
had just been recited.
By
the ninth century, the texts for the mass and office fall into two
categories.
First, ordinary texts were read or chanted on every day of the year,
that is,
they did not change. Second, proper texts addressed the devotional
topic of a
specific day, that is, a saint or an event in the Life of Christ. The
repertory
of proper texts increased concurrently with the number of saints’
feasts
throughout the Middle Ages. As you can imagine, it was not always
possible to
compose a complete set of proper texts for every new saint. To solve
this
problem, ‘default’ propers were written to be used for a category of
saints and
not a single saint. These default propers are the Common of Saints,
that is,
the office and mass for apostles, the office and mass for martyrs, the
office
and mass for virgins and so on. In sum, the most elaborate worship in
the
Christian church is a proper service created for one specific day.
How was music created for
Christian worship? Michel Huglo now takes us back to the origins of
what later
became the Gregorian chant.
MICHEL
The
Development and Ninth-Century State of Antiphonal and Responsorial
Singing
In
the ninth century, the chants of the office and mass of the Gregorian
repertory
were antiphons and responsories. These two liturgical and musical
genres were
not created by Carolingian reformers: they had been invented much
earlier in
the East before they were introduced to the Latin liturgies of Rome,
Milan,
Toledo, and Gaul.
The
150 psalms of David, first translated from Hebrew into Greek, then, in
the
third century, into Latin, were sung in those distant times verse by
verse with
the interpolation between each verse of a short
refrain sung by the congregation: Ps. 64 Te decet hymnus Deus in Sion (“God, a
hymn at Sion is worthy of you”).
It
is likely that this manner of singing came from the psalmody of the
Temple of
Jerusalem. In fact, in Psalm 134, the response by the assembly for each
verse
is Quoniam in aeternum misericordia ejus (“While
his mercy is forever”).
In
the third century, Hippolytus of Rome indicated in his work on the
‘Apostolic
Tradition’ that the crowd responded to the reader of the psalm with an
alleluia, meaning “Praise the Lord”.
At
the beginning of the fifth century, St. Augustine, bishop of Hippo in
north
Africa often alludes to this manner of chanting in his ‘Expositions on
the
Psalms’. He writes, “My brothers, you have just responded to the
Psalmist by
saying, ‘All nations, praise the Lord.’” From his references to such
responses
in his sermons we can reconstruct to some extent the nature of
responsorial
singing in the north African church of the fifth century.
From
north Africa, responsorial chant passed to Spain and Gaul and to Italy
northwards to Milan. This early form of responsorial singing survives
in the
Gregorian chant repertory, as we shall learn later.
The
most interesting witness to early responsorial singing was discovered
in the
seventeenth century, when the tomb was opened of St. Germain, bishop of
Paris
in the sixth century. At his side was a psalter in silver lettering on
purple
parchment. Some fifty-five psalms have indicated next to each verse the
letter
R traced in gold ink: this letter is an abbreviation for ‘responsorium’
(not ‘responsa’,
which is a neologism unknown in Patristic Latin). Each incipit has only
four to
nine words, not more. See your handout p. 5.
In
fact, responsorial singing is certainly the simplest type of musical
dialogue,
for it requires no musical training of the answering people, who need
only
repeat the easily learned response. Ethnomusicologists have found ‘call
and
response’ singing in most cultures.
Another
way of chanting the Psalms competed with responsorial singing beginning
in the
fourth century: antiphonal singing. According to Paulinus the Deacon,
the
biographer of St Ambrose, bishop of Milan in the fourth century (d.
397), and
St. Augustine in his Confessions, the
antiphonal singing used in the East had been introduced to the West
during the
siege of the basilica of Milan by the soldiers of the Arian Emperor
Valentinian
during his reign of 364-375.
The
term ‘antiphon’ has two meanings. One is a type of singing. Whereas the
psalm
is recited by a lector or psalmist in responsorial singing, in
antiphonal
singing two equal sides of a choir of clerics or monks sang the psalm
verses in
alternation. The second meaning is that of a specific genre of chant.
In
antiphonal singing, what had been the
‘responsory’ taken from the psalms,
was now designated with the name ‘antiphon’. The antiphon was
repeated
every two verses of the psalm by the entire choir? In the ninth
century, but by
the end of the Middle Ages, only once at the beginning of the psalm and
once at
its end. Yet even in the later Middle Ages, the antiphon of the psalm
was
repeated every two verses in the Magnificat,
but only on the highest feast days. In the sixteenth century, notably
in Spain,
brief organ interludes took the place of these antiphons. More frequent
repetition was also characteristic of the performance of the invitatory
antiphon of Matins. Thus, in the late
Middle Ages, the function of an antiphon was to introduce the psalm
tone
conforming to its musical structure. The antiphon was repeated after
the
doxology concluding the psalm recitation in antiphonal psalmody by the
alternating half-choirs.
We
must now return to the musical evolution of the responsory and
antiphon. As we
have just learned, the responsory, in becoming an antiphon, changed its
function – from that of a repetitive exclamation to that of a musical
frame for
the psalm. The melodic structure of the new antiphon did not change,
however,
at least not in the first centuries after it was introduced in the
West. The
musical tone of the responsory sung by the congregation is the same as
that of
the psalm intoned by the lector or psalmist. To the contrary, in
antiphonal
psalmody, the antiphon sung by the schola imposes the choice of the
psalm tone
to be sung by the two half-choirs.
In
Ambrosian chant, old Hispanic chant, and Old Roman chant, the
flexibility of
the psalmody is the rule. Thus, for example, in Ambrosian chant, the
adaptation
of the psalmody to these very simple antiphons never caused problems,
because
the cantor had more intonations and psalm tenors to choose from than in
Gregorian chant: the cantor could choose six different recitation
tones, which
only paused in the middle of each line, and adopt a final cadence which
would
lead directly into the intonation of the antiphon.
In
the responsorial psalmody of Antiquity, there were three recitation
tones,
which have been termed ‘mother-tones’: the pitches of C, D and E. (See your handout, page 6). The structure of
the antiphon was unipolar - the final pitch was identical to the pitch
of the
recitation. This is the case for Psalm 119, Clamavi
et exaudivit me (I cried out and he heard me), Ps. Ad Dominum clamavi *
et
exaudivit me. - Domine libera animam meam a labiis iniquis * et a
lingua dolosa. A/ Clamavi et exaudivit me etc.
[sung by
MH] The responsory is like an echo of the verse of the psalm chanted by
the
psalmist.
In
the ninth century, when Charlemagne unified the chant repertory of the
Gauls,
the cantors were often confronted with difficult problems. It was
necessary to
adjust the antiphon so that it would conform to the rules of Gregorian
composition, or else a psalm tone which was not part of the Latin
eight-mode
system would be maintained. This is precisely what happened with the
psalm tone
of the antiphon Clamavi: it is
considered an ‘irregular tone’ in the Antiphonaire
monastique of Solesmes published in 1934. In the margin of the
large
comparative table for this antiphon at the Paléographie
musicale of Solesmes, Dom Gajard had added a notice to indicate
the problem
of the choice of psalm tone and he suggested choosing an Ambrosian
tone. This
tone was considered irregular, because it did not belong to the
Gregorian
eight-mode system, or oktoechos.
To
explain the origins of the melismatic responsories of the night office
and of
the gradual of the mass, which was performed in responsorial style, we
must
return to the origins of responsorial psalmody. In the first centuries
of
Christianity, the function of responsorial psalmody was on the one hand
the
central element of the divine office, which included a prescribed
number of
psalms recited every day, and, on the other, the conclusion to the
recited
readings from the Old and New Testaments. In the Foremass, the lesson
from the
Old Testament was followed by responsorial psalmody and the reading of
the New
Testament by an alleluia and a verse taken from the psalms, which
introduced
the reading of the Gospel.
It
is remarkable that in the ornate graduals of the developed Gregorian
chant
respertory, we can find vestiges of the antique responsorial psalmody:
in fact,
in each gradual one finds a first verse of a psalm, either in its main
part or
in the accompanying verse, that is, its responsorium, and the psalm
from which
it is taken is represented even today. Before, the entire gradual was
repeated
after the verse, exactly as was once customary for the responsories of
the
night office.
In
the night office, every lesson is followed by a responsory which is
sung by the
choir: the verse which follows is sung by a solo singer to one of the
eight
recitation tones assigned to these verses. The choir repeats the
responsory
from its beginning, or, as in Gaul and still today in the Roman
breviary, at
the middle, at a place known as the repetendum and marked by an
asterisk in
modern editions of chant (P=Presa in Spanish manuscripts). In Spain, in
the
Hispanic rite, the ancient usage was kept of taking the responsory and
verse
from the same Scriptural passage, while elsewhere the verse was from
another
source. In proper offices for saints, the responsories and their verses
are taken
from a text recounting the Life or Passion of the saint in question.
But this
practice, which neglects the psalms in favor of the saint, no longer
reveals
the slightest trace of the antique responsorial psalmody. Indeed, by
this time
many formulaic responsory verse tones were replaced by newly composed
melodies.
We
should now see which genres of liturgical books contain the traces of
these
ancient ways of singing. There is, of course, the Bible, which, in the
sixth
century, before it was brought together in a single volume, was
distributed
over nine volumes, six for the Old Testament, and three for the New.
The
psalter, the third volume of the Old Testament, is thus the oldest book
of
chant: beginning in the eighth century, the Roman psalter generally
included
the 150 psalms and seven Biblical canticles taken from different books
of the
Old Testament, plus the Benedictus,
sung at Lauds, the Magnificat, sung
at Vespers, and the Nunc dimittis,
sung at Compline. These three canticles are taken from the beginning of
the
Gospel of Luke.
In
the ninth century, the chants of the Gregorian repertory were divided
into two
books: the gradual, containing the Proper chants of the mass for all of
the
festivals of the liturgical year (the introit antiphon, responsorial
gradual,
alleluia [or tract in Lent], and offertory, and the communion
antiphon), but
without the chants for the Ordinary of the mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo,
Sanctus,
Agnus Dei), which were recited from memory. The six oldest graduals
were edited
as a synoptic table by Dom Hesbert [SHOW]. Beginning in the tenth
century, the
new compositions – the tropes, the chants of the mass ordinary, and the
sequences added to the alleluia – were copied into a new book, the
troper-proser.
The
chants of the office for the entire liturgical year comprise the
antiphoner.
They include the short antiphons of the psalter for non-feast days, but
without
the texts of the 150 psalms at the beginning of the book, between the
Sundays
after Epiphany and Lent. Sometimes at
the end of antiphoners, one copied Psalm 94, the invitatory psalm,
which is
sung in the older responsorial manner, that is, that after every two
verses
sung by the cantor, the choir responds with an antiphon, such as Regem martyrum Dominus, venite adoremus (the
Lord is the King of Martyrs, come, let us adore him).
The
use of these two books, the antiphoner and gradual, contrasts with the
practices of other Latin liturgies, those of Milan, of Spain, and of
‘Old’
Rome, which only used a single book, the antiphoner. Such antiphoners
grouped
chants of the office and mass, because they saw little difference
between the
musical compositions of the night office and chant of the mass. Thus,
for
example, in the Old Roman chant that preceded the Gregorian,
approximately seventy
chants function both as responsories for the night office and
offertories of
the mass. In the Gregorian chant, the differentiation is very distinct
between
intonation formulas and cadences in office antiphons on the one hand
and mass
antiphons, such as the introit or communion, on the other,
or between office responsories and mass
responsories, such as the offertory. This can be seen clearly by
comparing
three chants for the Ascension, all composed in mode seven [sung by MH]:
the
antiphon for Lauds Viri Galilaei (AM
508; LU 850)
the introit
antiphon Viri Galilaei
(Grad. neumé, 264; LU 846)
the French responsory for
the night office Viri Galilaei (Responsoriale
monasticum)
Thus,
in Gregorian chant, a clear differentiation between liturgico-musical
genres
resulted in a material differentiation, that is, separate books for the
chant
of the mass and of the office.
Classification
of antiphonal and responsorial chant by the tones
In
the fifth century, in the Eastern church, liturgical chants were
composed
following a tonal system known as the octoechos: keep in mind that the
term
‘echos’ is only rarely used in the vocabulary of ancient Greek music
theory; it
is actually part of this Eastern tonal system.
The
term ‘system’ as in ‘Greater Perfect system’, according to Boethius,
signifies
a series of two or more tetrachords. In the East, the diatonic system
of the
eight tones was not that of Boethius, however, but was composed of a
series of
identical disjoint tetrachords, divided in the middle by the half step:
in each
tetrachord, the four pitches had the same numerical position: protos
(I),
deuteros (II), tritos (III) and tetartos (IV), which results in the
following
schema (see your handout, page 6).
According
to this diagram, we recognize the place of the final note in a chant,
which
must occur in the tetrachord of the finals, or, if the chant is
transposed, in
the tetrachord of the superiores. Thus a chant was classified as protus
(final
D), deuterus (final E), tritus (final F), and tetrardus (final G).
The
oldest witness to this system of tetrachords is the diagram
interpolated into
late eighth-century` Visigothic manuscripts with the section of music
of
Isidore of Seville’s Etymologies. The diagram is attributed to
Porphyry, a
philosopher of the early fourth century, who developed it as part of
his
commentary on Plato’s Timaeus, which is lost today. In the Timaeus,
Plato
describes musical harmony as the Soul of the material World (see the upper right corner of your handout,
page 7 and notice the scale below the diagram).
In
this system, the tetrachords are related to each other by fifth, the
most
perfect consonance after the octave. Since Gregorian psalmody is
bipolar, that
is, it ends on a final pitch but recites on a dominant pitch a fifth
higher, and
not unipolar like the antique responsorial psalmody, the scale of the
Isidore
diagram is ideally suited to it, unlike the Boethian Greater Perfect
system,
which omits pitches used in Gregorian chant and is comprised of
tetrachords a
fourth as well as a fifth apart.
In
the oktoechos as in the ninth-century Gregorian chant, psalm tones with
a
recitation tone a fifth above their final tone are called ‘authentic’
(although
this term was abandoned by scholars of Byzantine chant, Heinrich
Husmann found
it used in a Byzantine manuscript from Mount Sinai); by contrast if the
recitation tone is a third or a fourth higher than the final tone, the
psalm
tone is considered ‘plagal’ (in Greek, the term ‘plagios’ implies an
inferiority or dependence with respect to the term ‘authentic’.)
Medieval
theorists often distinguish ‘tone’ and ‘mode’ and we should as well.
Following
Guido of Arezzo, we can say that Gregorian chant (and the ancient Latin
and
Hispanic chant repertories) only knew four modes or four ‘manners’ of
organizing
the steps and half-steps of the tetrachords built on the final pitches
of the
four tones (maneries, following the terminology of a twelfth-century
Cistercian
treatise on the chant).
In
practice, Gregorian chant used for psalm tones for the antiphonal chant
of the
psalms: the determining criteria for the mode is not the position of
the
half-step in the scale, but rather the movement of the melody above or
below
the final (its ambitus).
Once
psalm recitation required two pitches instead of only one, there were
practical
consequences. The choice of a psalm tone had never posed problems for
singers
in the time of responsorial psalmody, in Milan or in Spain. But when
the
Gregorian chant repertory had been diffused throughout Europe, singers
had to be
taught how to choose the appropriate psalm tone and final cadence at
the end of
the psalm, this when musical notation did not yet exist.
The
singers at Charlemagne’s court resolved this problem by creating
manuscripts
called tonaries. If one examines the oldest office antiphoners, such as
that of
Compiegne (written between 860 and 870) or the Lucca fragments from the
end of
the eighth century, one can see that the antiphons follow one another
without
any space for a psalm tone or final cadence. These two elements, the
number of
the psalm tone, and the type of final cadence, or differentia, are
given in the
tonary, which circulated with its antiphoner in the ninth century. (See
the
reproduction of a Carolingian tonary of c. 800, the oldest known, on
your handout,
page 6, at the bottom).
In
the tonary, the indication of the psalm tone was normative, that is,
beyond
discussion. By contrast, the indication of the final differentia was a
suggestion, which could by modified by the cantor: in fact, one
observes many
variants in the number and melodic constitution of the differentia
between
tonaries and antiphoners. For example, for the first tone, there are
five
differentiae in certain ninth-century tonaries but up to twelve or
fifteen in
thirteenth-century Parisian manuscripts. Moreover, the tonaries do
sometimes
assign the same chant to different tones. For example, the tonaries
hesitate
between an authentic and plagal protus assignment for the introit
antiphon ‘De
ventre’, because it descends to a low A once just before its final.
Tonaries
also give conflicting tonal assignments to chants, such as those listed
by
Regino of Prüm, which begin in one tone and end in another, or to
transposed
chants.
BARBARA
In
hindsight, musical notation was the obvious answer. With it, the
Gregorian
repertory could be taught and ambiguities about the chant melodies
could be
resolved. Yet one could argue that Carolingian singers were able to
memorize
and transmit the melodies accurately without notation - why would they
have
needed it? Leo Treitler has studied the many ways in which lengthy
recited
texts, like Homeric epics, were transmitted orally in Antiquity, and he
used
them as models to explain the transmission of chant. Indeed, for some
of the
more formulaic categories of chant, such as the tract replacing the
Alleluia
during Lent, it would have been possible to remember the formulas and a
few
rules for their application to a text with relative ease. Guido of
Arezzo tells
us that singers needed ten years to memorize the repertory, however,
this in
the eleventh century when neumes had existed for almost two centuries.
Yet
David Hughes has shown that more variants were introduced to chant
melodies
after notation on a staff appeared than before, suggesting that Guido’s
staff
notation did not necessarily improve the transmission of chant.
Let
us return to the ninth century and look at some of the earliest known
examples
of musical notation before we consider where they came from. These
early
notations are called neumes, but this word was applied to them at least
a
century after the fact. (See your handouts, pp. 8, then 7)
1. The oldest surviving paleofrank neumes,
considered the oldest notational type, are found in manuscripts from
northern
France and western Germany. Two are the earliest. The first is
Valenciennes,
Bibliotheque municipale, 148, which can be dated no earlier than 875 on
the
basis of its content. In two places the scribe of the main text added
paleofrank neumes. In other places, a later scribe added similar
neumes. Notice
that the neumes represent melodies introducing antiphons or cadences
terminating psalm recitations, precisely the types of melodies that
were
codified in tonaries. They include melodies from Byzantium that were
sung to
introduce the tones [noeane, noeagis etc NB They are still sung today
in the
Eastern church.] These paleofrank neumes have been associated with the
monastery of St. Amand in northern France, above all – it is
significant that
such neumes were still used there two hundred years later.
2. The other early manuscript with paleofrank
notation is a sacramentary also dated from no earlier than the 870s.
Written at
the abbey of St. Germain des Pres in Paris, it lists the beginnings of
the
texts of the gradual for the mass in an added gathering, which must
date from
after the 870s. The main scribe added neumes only in two places, where
the same
introit text was sung to two different melodies. The neumes were
reminders to
singers. In this same manuscript neumes were added in the margins later
on – these
later neumes represent a different kind of neumation, for here entire
chants
are neumed, not just beginnings or ends. One of the neumed chants is a
gloria
melody to a Greek text. This ‘missa graeca’ was sung at the Abbey of
St. Denis.
3. Other early neumes appear in manuscripts
from
central France and southern Germany and have never been satisfactorily
dated.
They are later additions to earlier manuscripts, often written in
spaces that
were left blank by text scribes. It is interesting that the neumes are
applied
to new compositions - new alleluias or sequences or to tropes, the
subject of
your next class – and not to the well-established Gregorian chant
melodies of
the mass and office. The neumes written in Autun are important and
represent
another new stage of neumation, because they represent melismas without
texts
rather than sung texts. By this time the signs clearly had a melodic
significance.
Where
did these neumes come from and why? Scholars have observed neumes that
are
identical to accent marks in grammar treatises and to punctuation
signs. Michel
Huglo has observed small letters that serve as performance indications
in the
passion narratives of the Bible: similar letters appear in early
manuscripts
from St. Gall and Laon, where they have the same function. What these
types of
marks have in common is that they clarify how a text was recited: how
the voice
should rise and fall, speed up, slow down, or cadence. Such signs are
known
from other regions and religions, but have not been compared or dated
necessarily. Ekphonetic signs for recitation were used in the Eastern
church,
and special marks appeared in copies of the Torah and Koran to assist
recitation. It is not difficult to understand the early neumes derived
from
such prosodic marks as reminders to singers that assisted them with new
or
unfamiliar melodies. Levy calls these ‘graphic’ signs.
It
is difficult to explain how a complete system of neumation developed
from such
isolated signs. Kenneth Levy’s diagram shows a ‘zone brumeuse’ or a
‘zone of
fog’ leading to the more developed ‘gestural’ notations. Perhaps the
earliest
fully neumed manuscript is the gradual in Breton notation known as
Chartres 47
from c. 900. Thereafter we find the gradual of Laon c. 930 and the
famous
Hartker antiphoner from St. Gall of c.980 and the more or less
contemporary
Mont Renaud gradual and antiphoner. See page 9.
If
the earliest paleofrank neumes do in fact date from the 880s, those in
the
Valenciennes and St Germain des Pres manuscripts, then the idea of
neumation
did spread rapidly indeed, developing into a comprehensive system in
fifty
years. The date of the 880s is significant also, because manuscripts of
Martianus Capella, wherein Charles Atkinson has found isolated
grammatical
signs serving the function of neumes, began to circulate in Francia in
the 860s
and 870s. But if my dates for chapter 19 of the music treatise of
Aurelian are
correct, that is c. 856-860, and if Aurelian is indeed referring to
neumes as
his ‘formulas notarum’ and the neumes in the manuscripts of the
treatise would
suggest, then the origins of neumes may date from as early as the 850s.
Moreover, Peter Jeffery has found an Irish source from c. 800 for an
anonymous
grammar treatise attributed to Sergius, an earlier Latin author, with
texts
bringing together prosodic signs (sings for analyzing poetry) with
musical
sound, here produced by instruments. It may be significant that
Pseudo-Sergius
uses the word ‘nota’ to mean a prosodic mark with musical meaning.
[Aurelian
uses the same language as Sergius in the title to his chapter 19–see
handout,
p. 10]. Even more curious is the text penned by Adhemar of Chabannes
between
1025 and 1028 and discussed by James Grier, which states that Frankish
singers
adopted musical notation in the late eighth century, according to Grier
between
790 and 810 and probably in Metz. Yet no witnesses to such notation
survive,
and it seems significant that a progression from partially neumed texts
to
fully neumed texts to fully neumed melismas can be placed only in the
second
half of the ninth century. It is difficult to understand how a full
system of
neumation under Charlemagne could have appeared ‘ex vacuo’.
We
mentioned letters of the passion and significative letters earlier, but
another
type of letter notation came into being in the tenth century, one in
which the
letters of the alphabet from ‘a’ to ‘p’ represented the pitches of the
Greater
Perfect System of Boethius. This system was used in Dijon and later
came to
Normandy where monks from Dijon established the monastery of Fecamp.
But this
system, like the staff from c. 900 of the treatise ‘Musica enchiriadis’
[and
the daseia neumes which DID indicate liquescence] was not practical and
lacked
the nuances, such as liquescences [NB insert] and quilismas, which were
kept
well beyond the introduction of the staff. This later history is not
ours to
tell, however.
In closing, let us observe
how scribes from different parts of Europe would have neumed the same
melody.
Now let us sing the entire introit. The notation you see here is the
black
square notation used after 1200 throughout Europe, with few exceptions.
Above
the text are neumes as they appear in the Hartker codex. We hope that
singing
this chant will help you to understand the genius and flexibility of
the neumatic
system, which faded away as singers required more prescriptive
notations to
cope with the greatly expanded chant repertory.
© Barbara Haggh and Michel
Huglo, 29 October, 2004