Sonic Revelations, Sonic Revolutions

The performance of the choral work by the Anonymous 4 was a very intense and pure experience for me.  The way the piece opens with the pure droning tones with the melodic line interlaced brought some chills to me, I assume because the quiet strength and force moved me.  The piece continued in much of this fashion, as the piece showed much expressiveness and dynamicism, not in its loudness or softness, but in the way the phrases flowed and the colors that the melody created.  Much of this raw emotion can be contributed to the fact that the piece was in the Dorian mode, which gave the melodic line a very colorful contour in the way the intervals of the mode were used, most notably the whole step between the octave and minor seventh of the scale.  Also, I found the way in which the melodic line flowed through the dominant harmonics provided by the underlying drones was very moving.  When the melody flowed from the perfect intervals of the scale, especially the octave and fourth, to the less harmonically pleasing intervals, such as the seventh and the third, I felt very captivated, as the melody would seemingly hung in the balance between this stability and dissonance.  Then, when the line returned to the perfect intervals, it gave me chills yet again, as the purity and timbre of the voices allowed for some beautiful harmonic ringing, with the drones providing the base for which the melodic line could ring upon.  All these elements combined made this piece one of the most enjoyable experiences for me to have so far in the course.

 A lot of the music we’ve been listening to recently, such as Stimmung and Scelsi, has been described as primordial. This minimalist and experimental style of music challenged, once again, my perception of the difference between music and sound or noise. On the other hand, we also listened to the Anonymous 4’s wrenchingly beautiful interpretation of a Medieval love song. The contrast between, say, Scelsi and the Montpellier Codex, is stark in many respects, and I wanted to explore further the differences that lay in music that aims to sound ancient, and music that ancient society actually produced. (Doubtless there are songs that range from further back than the Medieval times, but I will use the Anonymous 4’s song for comparison here.)        What got me thinking about this was Alex Ross’s article “The Messenger: Giacinto Scelsi Discovered a World in One Note,” in which he glorifies Scelsi and his a-tonal compositions. Ross expresses his admiration for the music by elevating it and its composer to deified heights: “… the Tone is all-powerful once more.” “… considered himself a ‘messenger’ or ‘medium,’ and ” …a cult figure among younger composers: he makes the eternal new.” I agree with Ross on the counts that Scelsi’s music is unique and interesting. The idea of the primordial, for me, comes from the fact that a multitude of textures and sounds rise out of just one note, almost like the big bang theory, or any other creation idea. The Medieval song, on the other hand, has none of the tense or anxious quality of Scelsi, or for the matter Stimmung’s, work. The singers worked hard to perfect a “pure” style of singing, without any dips or vibrato in their tone. Contrary to the generally tune-less Scelsi, “Puisque bele dame m’eime” is all about arching melody.  But when does melody and “melody formed from noise,” as Ross describes Scelsi’s music, begin to differentiate? I think that the Medieval composers were focused on creating pleasant music that would entertain a court, as a love song would. Abstract, minimalist music would probably be the very last thing those people were looking for. Scelsi and Stimmung’s music, on the other hand, is narrative in the sense that they are trying to convey stories in ways that simultaneously were completely new and different, but also universal at the core.

(Pardon my French.)

“Puisque bele dame m’eime” was quite the breath of fresh (or at least, different) air after the tension of our other listenings. It’s a gorgeous and delicate piece, made even better by the Anonymous 4’s excellent technique and expression.

One of the piece’s elements that struck me the most was its “imperfect perfection”, for lack of a better term. Don’t get me wrong; by “imperfect,” I don’t mean flawed or badly performed; instead, not only is the piece graced by purity of tone, but also imbued with this deep, spine-tingling sense of humanity. The basic structure of the song shows this, especially at the beginning; the lilting, haunting melody, ringing with emotion, weaves itself with the ethereally, almost inhumanly pure note consistent throughout the piece.

I’m loath to describe that constant tone as a drone, since I tend to associate the word “drone” with machine-like sounds, or the lovely drone that we grind our teeth to in “Kounterdictionaries” (no bias there, of course not!). This piece’s “drone” is so radically different and pristine. It evokes different and deep emotions too; yet from a distance, as if the listener were standing alone in a vast and ancient cathedral, observing the gorgeous but fading fresco on the vaulted ceiling high above.

I completely agree with Matt G.’s image of the melodious voice as a soaring bird, rising and falling through the divine heavens created by the other voices. The usage of Dorian mode and the mystery surrounding the piece’s creation also adds so much to its ethereal beauty. Definitely a favorite.

I’ve always loved a cappella singing – and “Puisque bele dame m’eime” is some incredible a cappella.  The purity of the voice, without the vibrato that is all too common in vocal performance, is astoundingly beautiful.  The piece was emotional, and though filled with longing it was not unhappy – I think this effect was due in part to the mode in which it was written.  Of course the drone was and integral part of this piece, setting a stable base for the melody to float above – creating harmonies that were right on, locked in.  While I was listening to the piece, my ear moved at first with the melody, then with the drone, and then with the two combined, in what was in my mind (and as David said in class) a chord progression.  Knowing at least some of the history of the piece, I have an even deeper respect for it’s beauty.   That it is anonymous makes it all the more mysterious and off-putting (again, partially products of it’s mode)…I loved the simplicity and purity of this piece.  I just want to throw out there that I wish I could give credit to whoever had the inspiration to write this… But seeing as that’s not an option, I’ll just end this by saying that it is beautiful. -Erin