There is something quite enchanting about the silvery sound of the psaltery. Its name probably originates in religious use, as an accompaniment to singing songs from the psalms, known as psalmody and sung from a psalter, thus the psaltery. The word is from the Old English psealm or salm and Old French psaume or saume, derived from Church Latin psalmus, which itself comes ultimately from the Greek psalmos, a song sung to a harp, and psallein, to pluck on a stringed instrument. Appearing in Europe from the 11th century, the psaltery’s wire strings rang out in religious and secular contexts until around 1500, with a little evidence of a pocket of survival for a few decades after that. Its regular appearance in manuscript iconography, church iconography and in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales are evidence of its wide use and appeal. Its influence and development is surprisingly widespread, giving rise to the hammer dulcimer, the harpsichord family and ultimately the piano.
Author: Ian Pittaway
Bird on a briar: interpreting medieval notation, with a HIP harp arrangement
The aim of this article is to arrive at a performable and historically justifiable arrangement of the problematic song, bryd one brere, c. 1290–1320. This is the oldest surviving secular love song in the English language with a complete lyric and so it is early music gold-dust, but it does have some severe holes: it is for two voices, but one voice is missing; and some of the roughly-written notation is difficult to decipher. What follows is not the only possible musical solution; but on this journey I’ll take you through the process step by step, so you can decide for yourself if you’re convinced. I’ll also delve a little into the background of the song, arguing that it is clearly influenced by the troubadour and trouvère tradition of fin’amor – refined or perfect love. The article starts with a video performance on voice and medieval harp.
The bray harp: getting a buzz from early music
The bray harp is not a sound modern ears are used to, and even most early music groups with harps don’t use the period instrument, yet it was the standard European harp of the late medieval, renaissance and early baroque periods, from the 15th century to the 1630s, and still used until the late 18th century in some places. The bray harp gets its name from the L shaped wooden pins at the base of the strings, positioned so the strings buzz against them as they vibrate: the effect was said to sound like a donkey’s bray. It’s an older idea than the bray harp, one shared by the oldest surviving stringed instruments, made four and a half thousand years ago.
This article traces the earliest evidence for the European harp, leading to the origins and popular rise of the bray harp specifically. We ask why there is so little surviving early harp music and try to come to a feasible historical answer; and along the way take in Pictish stones, illuminated Psalters, Geoffrey Chaucer, harp-playing angels and an ape playing a rota, with a video of the harp being brayed.
The oud: a short guide to a long history
The oud or, in Arabic, al-ʿūd, is probably best known in the west for being the predecessor of the European lute; but it does have an independent life of its own in the history of early music, rooted in medieval cultural exchange between east and west. We know, for example, that ouds played an important part in the musical life of the royal court of Castile (in modern Spain) in the 13th century and, by extension, almost certainly Iberian musical life in general. But was the oud fretted, unfretted, or both? How did western musicians come to play an eastern instrument? And did the oud really originate in desiccated human remains?
Baroque music: a brief tour of the extravagant last period of early music
The baroque period was a time of ornate decoration, extravagance and the rise of ever larger ensembles, giving rise to opera and the early orchestra. Dance music was as popular as ever, with the renaissance galliard giving way to the baroque sarabande, chaconne, and bourée. Public dancing was briefly in trouble, banned by the Puritans, during which John Playford started a remarkable series of English dance instruction books which outlived Puritan censoriousness. Singing styles among the cultural elite were florid and declamatory, while broadside ballads for the masses continued to be sung and sold in the streets. And, in private, John Playford and his companions met to sing about farting.
Baroque is the final period of early music (medieval, renaissance, baroque) and this is the last of 3 articles charting them. This article includes 15 illustrative videos for the music of Robert Johnson, John Blow, Tobias Hume, Thomas Arne, John Playford, Claudio Monteverdi, Jean-Baptiste Lully, and Johann Sebastian Bach (click blue links).
Music of the renaissance: a whistle-stop tour
The renaissance marked a turning point for European culture. Beginning in Italy in the 14th century, its influence spread across Europe, affecting all aspects of culture, including music. But it was in England that the sound of the renaissance first developed, spreading out to Burgundy, Italy, and then back to England in new forms. The invention of the printing press and the spread of literacy profoundly affected music-making, with musicians in households now able to write down music, use the new printed songbooks of composers such as John Dowland, and sing from broadside ballad sheets sold in the street. The spread of printing and literacy also affects our own knowledge of the period, with surviving instructions for dances and a wealth of music. Includes 15 active links in blue to videos of musical examples, illustrating the text.
The gemshorn: a (necessarily) short history
The haunting sound of the gemshorn has played a small part in the early music revival. Evidence for its historical use is sparse, scattered thinly from the late middle ages or early renaissance to the first days of the baroque period, and only within Germany. This ocarina made of goat horn was included in the completist musical lexicographies of Sebastian Virdung, 1511, and Michael Praetorius, 1618, and was deemed recognisable enough to be played by the figure of death in a series of woodcuts in 1488. This article traces what we know about the gemshorn, comparing the evidence with its use in the early music revival.
The gittern: a short history
The gittern was one of the most important plucked fingerboard instruments of the late medieval period. Loved by all levels of society, it was played by royal appointment, in religious service, in taverns, for singing, for dancing, and in duets with the lute. Yet we know of no specific pieces played on this instrument. What we do have are many representations of it being played in a wide variety of contexts and one surviving instrument of the 15th century, and from this we can reconstruct something of the history and repertoire of this widely-loved instrument. This article begins with a video of an estampie from c. 1300 played on gittern.
The lute: a brief history from the 13th to the 18th century
The lute’s musical versatility, giving one musician the ability to play several polyphonic parts over a wide and increasing pitch range, made it once the most popular instrument in Europe, the ‘prince’ of all instruments. From the Arabian oud to the medieval, renaissance and baroque lutes, this article briefly charts the development of this versatile, beautiful and enduring instrument, featuring 8 videos illustrating the changes and developments of the lute and its music.
Medieval music: a quick guide to the middle ages
This article is a complete beginner’s guide to secular medieval music. When were the middle ages? What musical information is available in medieval manuscripts? What were the earliest surviving secular songs in English? What was medieval dance like? What forms of music did musicians play? Why does medieval music sound so different to today’s? How did medieval musicians harmonise?
This article features 5 illustrative videos of medieval music and several links to further articles.
Songs that grow like trees: an appreciation of Sydney Carter (1915–2004)
The second wave of the folk song revival in the 1950s–70s reignited a popular love of traditional music, building on the first wave of folk song collectors such as Cecil Sharp and Ralph Vaughan Williams in the late 19th and early 20th century. The second folk song revival brought into the spotlight such professional folk song performers as Martin Carthy, John Kirkpatrick, Nic Jones, Shirley Collins, Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger, The Watersons, John Renbourn, and The Albion Band. There were also some who wrote new songs in the folk idiom, among them Sydney Carter, whose songs, still performed today, stand out for their quality.
Sydney Carter straddled two worlds: he not only wrote what are now folk classics such as John Ball and Crow on the Cradle, he composed songs which became staples of church life, such as When I Needed A Neighbour, Lord of the Dance, and Every Star Shall Sing A Carol.
Sydney Carter’s approach to life and faith was based on personal conviction not imposed authority, complex not simplistic, questioning not dogmatic. He has been, through his songs, an inspiration and support to many, most of whom he never met, many of whom were not even aware of his name, some of whom do not even share his faith. And that includes me, a folk song performer and atheist who appreciates the power, the beauty and the wry humour of his songs.
This article features 12 recordings of Sydney’s songs, including performances by John Kirkpatrick, Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick, Franciscus Henri, The Ian Campbell Folk Group, Robert Johnson, Rolling Harmony, Ian Pittaway, Judy Collins, and Sydney Carter himself. Read more
Greensleeves: Mythology, History and Music. Part 3 of 3: Music
The remarkable longevity of a 16th century song and tune
Greensleeves has captured the imagination of musicians for well over four centuries, testified by innumerous versions. This, the third of three articles about the mythology, history and music of Greensleeves, gives an audio flavour of the remarkable versatility and vitality of the melody and song, an à la carte menu to choose from. We begin with versions of the passamezzo antico and romanesca which are the foundation of Greensleeves; then advance to the song on period instruments; the Playford dance; two Greensleeves morris dances; the Greensleeves melody as a Christmas song; Ralph Vaughan Williams’ classical version; then a range of more modern interpretations: folk, blues, bluegrass, country, pop, rock, punk, black metal, jazz, flamenco, disco, trance, dubstep, Vietnamese ballet … and the ice cream van tune.
Greensleeves: Mythology, History and Music. Part 2 of 3: History
The remarkable longevity of a 16th century song and tune
Greensleeves is well over four centuries old and is, even now, still going strong. This is a song first published in 1580, its tune used for a wide variety of other 16th and 17th century broadside ballads; used as the basis for virtuoso lute playing; that William Shakespeare used for a sophisticated joke; a tune that John Playford published for dancing to; that morris dancers still jig and kick bottoms to; that has become a Christmas favourite; and that pop singers continue to sing. This is the second of three articles, looking at the song’s mythology, its true history, and video examples of its musical transformations.
Greensleeves: Mythology, History and Music. Part 1 of 3: Mythology
The remarkable longevity of a 16th century song and tune
Greensleeves, composed anonymously in 1580, is a song which has been a magnet for fanciful claims. This article examines the claims that Henry VIII wrote it for Anne Boleyn; that Lady Greensleeves was a loose woman or a prostitute; and that the song has Irish origins. This is the first of three articles, looking at the song’s mythology; its true history; and video examples of its musical transformations.
The beautiful Boissart mandore, part 2 of 3: Observations on the Boissart mandore
The history of a stunning 16th century instrument, observations on its lutherie, and questions over its dating.
In part 1 we looked at the history of the renaissance and baroque mandore. Now we examine one exquisite instrument, the Boissart mandore in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, decoding its remarkable carvings and reconstructing its biography from the visible evidence of the changes it has been through. As far as I know, this is the first critical examination of the life of the Boissart mandore.
The beautiful Boissart mandore, part 1 of 3: The pre-history of the mandore
The history of a stunning 16th century instrument, observations on its lutherie, and questions over its dating.
In the family of renaissance plucked instruments, the mandore is the result of a union between two mediaeval string families: the oud and the lute on one side, and the gittern on the other. The resulting offspring is a small instrument with a musically significant (but alas now largely unplayed) surviving repertoire. Some actual instruments survive, and there is no doubt that the most exquisite of these is the beautiful Boissart mandore in the Victoria and Albert Museum. This article and two to follow will: (1) trace the pre-history of the mandore; (2) examine the V&A’s beautiful Boissart mandore and attempt to reconstruct its personal history for, as far as I know, the first time; (3) describe the making of a new mandore based on the Boissart model.