York Minster: 900 years of music iconography. Part 1 of 2: Carvings of musical instruments, c. 1030–1915.

The current building of York Minster was founded in c. 1225 and added to for many centuries, as is typical for a medieval church. During that period, depictions of medieval and renaissance musicians were carved in stone and crafted in stained glass. There is also an actual musical instrument on display, an oliphant from c. 1030 (pictured above).

This article, the first of two about York Minster’s rich musical iconography, is a chronological guide from c. 1030 to 1915, a span of nearly 900 years. The dates, locations and instruments are:

• c. 1030, the crypt – oliphant
• c. 1290–1350, the south wall – pipe and tabor
• c. 1310, the south window – harp
• 1405–08, the Great East Window – trumpets
• c. 1470s–80s, the central tower – gittern, lutes, fiddle, nakers 
• c. 1803–35, the quire – gittern
• c. 1820, the south quire aisle – violin
• 1903–1915, east walls of the north and south transepts – harp, timbrel, portative organ

Each representation of an instrument is photographed, with a description and a video of the instrument being played.

There is one location missing from the list above, so densely populated with instruments that it is described in a second dedicated article: the magnificent pulpitum or Kings Screen, 1473–1500, with 56 carvings of 20 different instruments, including shawms, bagpipes, trumpets, transverse flute, recorder, double recorder, lutes, bray harps, gitterns, rotas, fiddles, symphonie, tromba marina, portative organs, positive organ, clavicimbalum, cymbals, fool’s percussion, triangle, nakers, and singers. The second article is available here on 17^th September 2025.

A brief history of York Minster  

The King and Queen of Northumbria, Edwin and Ethelburga, converted to Christianity and were baptised by Paulinus, the first Bishop of York, on Easter Sunday, AD 627. A wooden church was built for the occasion, the location of which is unknown.

A stone Anglo-Saxon church was later built. It survived a Viking invasion in 866 but was destroyed by fire by William the Conqueror’s army in 1069.

William nominated Thomas of Bayeux as Archbishop of York, and Thomas had a large cruciform church built between 1080 and 1100. Typical of medieval churches and cathedrals, it was added to and remodelled over time, but its foundations were on a flood plane and the whole building was therefore unstable. Every part of that church was rebuilt, and what is now York Minster was begun circa 1225. This earliest part of the Minster is now the south transept.

After c. 1225 (approximately the year of the earliest surviving secular song in English, Mirie it is while sumer ilast), the Minster was added to for the next 700 years: the early English style of the 13^th century is visible in the north and south transepts; the decorated style of the 14^th century is seen in the nave; the perpendicular style of the 15^th century is in the east end; and additions to the 15^th century pulpitum and the decorated wooden quire, and the added statues of biblical figures on the east walls of the north and south transepts, are all 19^th century Georgian.

The musical iconography which is the subject of these two articles spans the whole architectural lifetime of the building. Chronologically, we begin in the crypt, where on display is an oliphant, a musical horn made from an elephant tusk, gifted to the minster in c. 1030. On the south wall is a carving of a pipe and tabor player, c. 1290–1350, and the south window, c. 1310, includes King David playing his harp. The Great East Window, 1405–08, has trumpets signalling The Last Judgement. The previous central tower collapsed in 1405, and the inside of the current tower, completed before c. 1485, is decorated with players of gittern, lutes, a fiddle and drums (almost certainly nakers). The magnificent pulpitum, also called a quire screen or organ screen, is the subject of the second article, available on 17^th September 2025. It was made between 1473 and 1500 and is decorated with 56 musicians, including renaissance plucked, bowed, keyboard, wind and percussion instruments. Returning to the current article, in the quire is a carving of what a Georgian stonemason in c. 1803–35 considered to be a gittern; the south quire aisle has a carving of a violinist, c. 1820; and the north and south transept east walls have carvings of King David the harper, Miriam the timbrel player, and Saint Cecilia playing portative organ, carved 1903–1915. Photographs and descriptions of all this musical iconography follow.

With thanks to two guides at York Minster: Elizabeth Bedford, who suggested I write these articles; and Trevor Julian, editor of The Friends of York Minster Annual Report, who corresponded with me and gave helpful information about dating that is not available in other sources.

The crypt: oliphant, c. 1030

In the crypt is the oldest musical artefact of York Minster: an actual instrument called an oliphant, an elephant’s tusk turned into a musical horn, carved with decorative animals and foliage. It was probably made in south Italy, possibly in Amalfi. Ulphus or Ulf Toraldsson, a Viking nobleman, presented this oliphant as a symbol of his conveyance or gift of land to York Minster in c. 1030. Such a symbolic horn is called a charter horn, and a horn for drinking, hunting, or summoning was used, this oliphant being for summoning.

It used to be displayed in the crypt held by a pair of life-size plastic hands to give the scale (see above), now it is displayed on more discrete black supports (below).

At some point during the 16^th or 17^th century, the oliphant was stolen and became the property of General Thomas Fairfax, whose son Henry returned it to the Minster in 1675. This is recorded on the added silver mounts we see above.

The larger silver mount reads: “CORNV HOC VLPHVS IN OCCIDENTALI PARTE DEIRӔ PRINCEPS VNA CVM OMNIBVS TERRIS ET REDDITIBVS SVIS OLIM DONAVIT AMISSVM VEL ABREPTVM.” Translation: “Ulphus, ruler of the western region of Deira [an Anglo-Saxon kingdom], gave this horn, which for a time was lost or stolen, together with all his lands and incomes.”

The smaller mount reads: “HENRICVS D.^S FAIRFAX DEMVM RESTITVIT DEC & CAP. DE NOVO ORNAVIT AN.^o DOM. 1675.” Translation: “Henry, Lord Fairfax, eventually restored it. The dean and chapter decorated it anew [the silver mounts] in the year of our Lord 1675.”

In 1718, drawings of both sides of the horn were owned by Samuel Gale, treasurer of the Society of Antiquaries of London, which published the drawings. Not having the benefit of seeing the actual oliphant, and having only side views, they declared it a drinking horn, not able to see that, being open both ends, it is incapable of holding any liquid and so is clearly meant for sounding. (Its misidentification as a drinking horn is still in the description on display in York Minster’s crypt, and repeated on some websites, such as the Church Times article here and a University of Cambridge page here.)

A more ornately carved oliphant is in the Victoria and Albert Museum, also dating from the 11^th century, also probably from south Italy.

Oliphant (olifant, olyphant) is the Old French word for elephant. In common with the much smaller hunting horn, the oliphant has no finger holes and can play only two or three notes of the harmonic series. It was associated with royalty due to the prestige associated with its material and its typically highly-decorated presentation. The instrument plays a role in La Chanson de Roland (The Song of Roland), a French epic poem composed between 1040 and 1115 (roughly contemporaneous with the York Minster and V&A horns), a poem popular until the 14^th century. Roland serves in the rearguard of Charlemagne’s army and, as part of his role, he plays an oliphant.

Oliphants appear in the art of medieval manuscripts, often played by angels to herald God’s Final Judgement so, just as the oliphant is sounded in battle in La Chanson de Roland, it is an instrument to sound the final battle between good and evil at the end of the world. Above and below, for example, is a series of illustrations in an English Apocalypse manuscript, dated 1250–1300 (British Library Add MS 35166, folios 12r, 13r, 13v and 15r). These images suggest that some oliphants were painted or stained.

Two more striking examples of oliphant iconography are below.

Left is an illustration of Psalm 131: 17, “There will I bring forth a horn to David”, on folio 75r of The Utrecht Psalter, created 820–30 in Reims or in the nearby convent of Hauvilliers, north-east France. The figure holds a large oliphant in one hand and a laurel wreath in the other. The symbolism would have been obvious to any reader of the manuscript: the oliphant for royalty and victory, the laurel for victory, divine favour, authority and wisdom.

Right is a detail from folio 3v of The Worms Bible, produced in the Middle Rhineland of Germany, circa 1175–1200 (British Library Harley 2804), from a scene that features King David playing lyre surrounded by musicians, including this oliphant player who is also holding a duct flute.

In the video below, Corwen ap Broch demonstrates blowing horns.

South wall: pipe and tabor, c. 1290–1350  

In the photograph below we see two adjacent label stops on the south wall, to the left of the south window. On the left is a lion; on the right, the body of a lion with the torso, arms and head of a man in place of the lion’s head. This hybrid is playing a pipe and tabor.

Views of the hybrid man-lion pipe and tabor player, from left and right …

… from the front and beneath …

… and in context, next to the south window (right).

The pipe and tabor is two instruments played together. The pipe, played with one hand, has only three finger-holes to produce differently-pitched notes, two typically (but not exclusively) on the bottom end at the front and a third hole at the back. It has a narrow bore to facilitate over-blowing, more notes available by blowing harder, giving a comfortable range of an octave and a half, or a little more for the well-practiced musician. The tabor is a drum played with the other hand to beat time. The tabor has a snare, a gut string, to give an additional fizz to the sound as it vibrates against the skin when beaten, shown on the York carving as a horizontal line across the skin. Both pipes and tabors came in various sizes and therefore a range of pitches.

The York Minster taborer – the name for a pipe and tabor player – shows the playing position with the tabor on the left shoulder. The tabor was secured in place by a cord around the neck. Though this looks deafening for the player, it is a widely attested playing position (though not the only position), as we see below. Left is folio 237v of Lancelot du Lac (British Library Royal 20 D IV), France, 1300–25, and centre left is folio 164v of The Luttrell Psalter (British Library Add MS 42130), England, 1325–40. Notable on the York Minster carving is the substantial size and therefore weight of the tabor beater, also evident in the Luttrell Psalter image centre left and centre right on folio 345v of The Breviary of Renaud or Marguerite de Bar (British Library, Yates Thompson 8), France, 1302–03, and on the right we see the same on folio 343v of Biblia Porta (U 964, Bibliothèque cantonale et universitaire, Lausanne), from the end of the 13^th century, France.

One of the other playing positions was to suspend the tabor from the crook of the arm or the wrist, as we see below on one of the misericords of Beverley Minster, carved in 1520 (the latter described in detail in the seventh of eight articles about Beverley Minster), shown first in full, then the detail of the taborer. A misericord – Latin for mercy seat – is a shelf on the underside of choir stall seats. When the seats were upright, clergy rested their buttocks on the shelf, which enabled them to remain standing during long services. Misericords were not simply functional, but crafted works of art, depicting everyday, fantastical, moral, didactic and symbolic scenes.

This misericord shows a taborer playing for four dancers, all five wearing the ass-eared hood of the fool. This is an image of morris dancing, the earliest evidence for which is in the mid–15^th century, known in Flanders as mooriske danse, in Germany as Moriskentanz, in France as morisques, in Croatia as moreška, in Italy and Spain as moresco, moresca or morisca, and in England as morys, moreys, or morisse daunce. It was originally a high status display dance of the courts which, by the mid–17^th century, had moved down the social scale and was performed in English parishes. The pipe and tabor was the instrument associated with the morris, which included among the dancers various stock characters, including the scimitar-wielding Moor, a female character called variously the Queen of May, judge, or goddess of luck, and the ass-eared fool, who may also have a coxcomb on the headwear and/or bells on various parts of the costume and often carried a pig’s bladder on a stick, as we see above left. (For much more on various types of fools and their association with the pipe and tabor and morris dancing, click here.)

In the video below, Aahmes Quince plays pipe and tabor: Qui que face a ce rotruenge nouvele by Gautier de Coincy, from the 13^th century Miracles de Nostre Dame.

South window: harp, c. 1310

On the right of the taborer is the south window. The window itself gives the dates of its history: “THIS WINDOW c 1310 WAS INDIFFERENTLY RESTORED 1789 & BROUGHT BACK AS FAR AS POSSIBLE TO ITS FIRST STATE 1950”. Part of being “indifferently restored” in 1789 involved finding replacement glass for the missing face of the Virgin Mary from a different damaged window. As we see below, the glass used has the face of a man with a beard.

Most of the glass for the image of King David playing harp in the south window, shown below, appears to be original. As we see in the detail below right, this is a harp shown with 14 strings, and observing the strings reveals some replacement glass: on the top right and lower portions of the string band, strings don’t follow through their course as a result of filling in gaps.

The harp has a long history, evidenced back to the 5^th Pharaonic Dynasty of Egypt, c. 2500–c. 2350 BC. The type of harp in the south window is a pillar harp, with a forepillar furthest away from the player. The shape we see here, with curves on the neck and pillar, was characteristic of European harps from the 11^th century on.

The evidence of multiple medieval writers testifies to gut being the chief string material of the period in the west, not just for harps, but for stringed instruments generally. Sextus Amaricus, Sermones, circa 1100, and Bruno the Carthusian, In Psalmos, 12^th century, state that harp strings are made of the intestines of a goat or ram, and sheep intestines are specified in the anonymous Secretum Philosophorum, 13^th century; in Bartholomaeus Anglicus, De Propietatibus Rerum (The Propieties of Things), c. 1250; and in John Lydgate, Horse, Goose and Sheep, c. 1440.

Medieval artists did not always depict the details of instruments correctly. We see an error on the south window harp: some of the strings are attached to the soundboard, which is correct and necessary for the strings to sound, but some strings are attached to the forepillar, which is incorrect and would result in minimum acoustic resonance.

The number of strings on a medieval harp varied and iconography cannot always be relied upon to be accurate due to the medium. Strings carved in stone, for example, need to be thicker than life and therefore typically reduced in number when there are many strings. In this window, can the number of harp strings, 14, be trusted? French poet-composer Guillaume de Machaut, c. 1300–77, likened his love’s 25 virtues to the 25 strings of the harp in his Dit de la harpe. An early 15^th century sermon by French scholar, poet and theologan Jean de Gerson, Puer natus est nobis (A child is born to us), states that the harp has 20 strings. But as late as 1523, Italian organist and music theorist Giovanni Maria Lanfranco states that the harp has only 15 strings in his Scintille di musica (Sparks of music), fewer strings in the 16^th century than the 25 and 20 strings stated by Machaut and Gerson in the 14^th and 15^th century. There is therefore no necessary relationship between the date of the harp and the number of strings, i.e. the string number does not necessarily increase over time. The best we can say is that, as with so many aspects of medieval instruments, there was variety, no strict uniformity, and the evidence from other instruments such as bagpipes and tabor pipes suggests that much music can be played on an instrument with a limited pitch range.

In medieval Christian and Jewish art, King David was often shown playing harp, as here. David was reputed to be the author of the Psalms of the Jewish Tanakh or Tenakh, known to Christians as the Old Testament. The Psalms is a book of hymns, some of which include musical instructions and references to instruments, which are not possible now to interpret precisely. In manuscript art up to the 12^th century, David plays a lyre, called a kinnor in the Hebrew Psalms, or he plays a harp. By the last quarter of the 12^th century onward, David is shown in art almost exclusively playing a harp, occasionally a psaltery.

In the video below, the medieval harp is played by Ian Pittaway: La Sexte estampie Real from Manuscrit du roi, a manuscript of troubadour songs written c. 1254–70, with instrumental pieces such as this estampie added in c. 1300, the time of the York Minster south window.

To learn more about the medieval harp, click here, here, and here.

Great East Window: trumpets, 1405–08

The Great East Window includes biblical scenes from the beginning of the world, Christ’s second coming, and the end of the world. Two panels have angels playing trumpets.

Some instruments are capable of different pitches and rhythms, but the significance of the sound is practical rather than musical. For example, the shepherd’s whistle gives instructions to his dog, and the referee’s whistle in a sports match instructs the players. The same can be said for the oliphant described above: it could be argued that it is not really a musical instrument, but a horn used for signalling. Mechanically-produced sounds that have musical pitch can function similarly: the practical response for all who hear the siren of a police car, ambulance or fire engine, or a car horn, or a fire alarm, is to move out of the way of danger. 

The trumpets in the Great East Window were capable of producing music (as we will see below), but that is not their function here: the trumpet on the left is accompanied by a dove with a scroll, symbolising the giving of a divine message; and the trumpet on the right is played in a fiery red sky over the Earth, symbolising The Final Judgement. The sounds they produce are not for listening pleasure, but to signal for humans to be ready for the divine presence.

This practical religious function for the trumpet is particularly noticeable in the art of Netherlandish painter Jheronimus Bosch (c. 1450–1516). It is clear from his work that Bosch considered all music universally sinful. In Bosch’s paintings, musicians are either sinners in the world, their wayward music leading their souls to perdition; or animals, demonstrating that music is mere noise played by those with no understanding; or sinners in hell, their instruments turned on them as weapons of torture; or the hybrid creatures of hell, musician and instrument combined in an ungodly union. No musician is spared by Bosch’s imagery: not the lowly minstrel, the rural shepherd, the highborn or the priest. Unlike other painters of Bosch’s day and the earlier medieval period, Bosch doesn’t even give the angels of heaven musical instruments to praise God. Angels are given only one instrument: trumpets to sound the division of the saved from the damned. The function of Bosch’s trumpets is always to signal conflict, played by a member of an army going to war, or by a demon signalling the descent into hell, or by heaven’s angels signalling the Last Judgement. Only in the latter case is the trumpet positive for Bosch, and it is striking that it isn’t an instrument of music, but a functional auditory warning of God’s power. For example, in the detail below from The Last Judgement (Vienna), above chaotic scenes of demons skewering and torturing sinners, angels sound the trumpets of the Last Judgement …

… and in The Garden of Earthly Delights, a column of sinners is marched into hell like prisoners of war. On the right, a long curved trumpet is sounded to mark sinners’ entry into hell; in the centre, a sinner tries to resist his inevitable eternal punishment, but is surrounded by hell’s guards pushing him on; and, on the left, a sinner sits astride a giant spotted toad, symbol of lust, flanked by hell’s hybrids pointing the way to his eternal damnation.  

In Bosch’s Allegory of Gluttony and Lust, a man wearing the funnel for gluttony holds greenery for the shortness of life, from which is suspended the cherry of lust. His overweight body is pushed along on a floating barrel, symbol of gluttony, playing a curved trumpet for his forthcoming eternal judgement.

In the hell wing of The Waywain, sinners are hunted down by the dogs of hell. One butchered sinner is carried by a green-faced demon blowing a curved trumpet.

For much more on musical imagery in the paintings of Jheronimus Bosch, click here, here and here.

Trumpets were also instruments of music. Trumpets of metal, horn or wood are common in western medieval iconography, usually straight, as in the Great East Window, sometimes folded or curved in various ways. We see two examples of folded trumpets below, contemporaneous with the Great East Window, both from The Hours of Charles the Noble, King of Navarre, c. 1404 (Cleveland Museum of Art, 64.40), folio 272r on the left and folio 316r right.

The medieval trumpet requires the embouchure of the mouth – the shape made by the muscles of the lips and the surrounding area – to produce differently-pitched notes. It could often be played with only one hand to support it, as we see below in a detail from folio 179r of The Queen Mary Psalter (British Library Royal 2 B VII), England, 1310–20, showing 2 trumpeters with a player of cymbals.

We see the same one-hand playing posture by trumpeters below in Gloucester Cathedral. In the choir vault above the high altar there are 17 musicians carved between 1331 and 1357, among which are 4 trumpeters, 2 holding their instruments and 2 playing. Below we see 3 of them: on the left, a player of a short trumpet playing with one hand; on the right at the back is another one-handed trumpeter, and one of the non-players in the foreground.

The natural trumpet, as it’s now called, gained its name because it plays the notes of the natural harmonic series, i.e. those notes available by changing the shape of the embouchure without valves changing the length of tubing. Valves appeared on trumpets in the early 19^th century, since when the earlier and much more long-lived valveless instrument has been known as the natural trumpet to differentiate the two. With the use of valves, a trumpet can play all chromatic notes within an octave and, by the tightening or loosening of the embouchure, those same notes within the chromatic scale can be played at higher or lower octaves. Without valves, a trumpeter has only the embouchure to make notes, which means that not only is the chromatic scale unavailable, not all notes of the diatonic scale are available.

This meant that the trumpet was limited musically. Johannes de Grocheio, in his music thesis Ars musice, written in Paris between the 1270s and 1300, stated that “some instruments move the spirits of men more by their sound, such as the drum and trumpet in feasts, spear games and tournaments”. He preferred stringed instruments and in particular the vielle, the medieval fiddle, because “in the vielle, however, all musical forms are subtly discerned”, i.e. the trumpet is meant for volume, and so is incapable of the subtlety of bowed or plucked strings.

In the video below, Michael Laird and Graham Whiting play wooden trumpets: Gloria in the manner of a trumpet by Guillaume Dufay (1400–1474).

Central tower: gittern, lutes, fiddle, ?nakers, c. 1470s–80s

When standing in front of the magnificent pulpitum (described in the second article, available 17^th September 2025), above the viewer is the central tower. The previous tower collapsed in 1405 according to Jane Bulmer (2011), or 1407 according to York Civic Trust (undated). King Henry IV sent William of Colchester, his master mason, to oversee construction of the new tower in 1407. The main body of the tower was completed in 1472 and consecrated on 3^rd July of that year, but work on the tower was not complete: master mason William Hyndeley continued carving decorations until the mid 1480s, which more than likely included the musicians according to the natural order of work, so we can give the musical carvings a date of c. 1470s–80s.

The musicians are on the string course, a decorative horizontal band. A photograph of each section of the string course – north, east, south, west – is followed by details of the instruments.

Above we see the north string course or string band of the central tower, with a musician fifth figure from the right or first right from the centre (shown below). Most instruments in medieval and renaissance iconography are easily categorised as belonging to their instrument type. Occasionally there are credible-looking instruments that defy easy classification, and this is one such, combining aspects of the gittern and lute.

The gittern is first attested in the 13^th century, the lute in the 14^th. The gittern was smaller and therefore of a higher pitch than the lute. While they look similar, both with fretted necks, bowl backs, and sometimes with similar-shape bodies, the gittern and lute are distinguishable in three ways:

• The backs of lutes were made of several ribs glued together, with a separate neck; whereas the whole bowl and neck of the gittern was carved from a solid piece of wood.
• The strings on a lute were attached to the bridge, which was glued to the soundboard, whereas gittern strings were attached to hitch pins on the edge of the instrument and passed across the bridge. (This was the general rule, with rare exceptions to this general distinction, i.e. gitterns with strings attached to the bridge and lutes with hitch pins.)
• The peg box of a lute was bent back from the neck at an obtuse angle, whereas the gittern peg box was a curved sickle shape with a decorative carving on the head.

These differences are illustrated below in a detail from Agnolo Gaddi’s Coronation of the Virgin with six angels, c. 1390, in which a lutenist duets with a gittern player.

The body shape of the York Minster carving could be a gittern or a small lute. The strings over the bridge, tied to hitch pins on the tail, suggest a gittern, as gitterns were nearly always strung in this manner, and lutes almost never. The 3 double courses suggest a gittern, as there were 3 course gitterns, but lutes always had 4 or more courses. However, the obtuse-angle peg box suggests a lute, as gitterns had sickle-shape peg boxes with a carved decoration on the head. This, then, could be an unusual gittern with a lute-like peg box; or an unusual lute with only 3 courses and hitch-pins like a gittern; or it could be one of those cases where a carver reduced the number of courses in stone, necessary due to the nature of the material, making it a lute with hitch-pins that in reality had 4 or 5 courses; or the carver may have been confused about the difference between gitterns and lutes. Certainty is impossible.

To read more about the gittern, click here. To learn more about the lute, click here.

Above we see the east string band of the central tower, with a musician third figure from the left playing a lute (shown right). There are 4 double courses, which could indicate a gittern or a lute. It is more the typical size of a gittern than a lute, but there were also small lutes this size. Most of the peg box is missing: would we see the lute’s straight peg box or the gittern’s sickle-shape peg box? The strings attached to the bridge rather than to hitch pins would almost always indicate a lute rather than a gittern. The player’s mouth is open, indicating that the player is also singing.

The sound of the lute in the 15^th and 16^th century was not always the pure, clean sound modern audiences expect. The lute appears in western art in the early 14^th century, unfretted. It began to be fretted in around 1400, the same time that bray pins began to appear as standard on harps, L shaped pins that anchored the string in the soundboard and were turned so the strings vibrated against them, giving a distinct buzzing or braying sound. The earliest image of a fretted lute I can find – shown below, from 1400 – illustrates it clearly with triple frets, the purpose of which was to create the same buzzing sound as on harps when combined with a low action (the height of the strings from the frets). The Capirola lute book, a manuscript written in Venice 1515–20, confirms the observation, stating that a player should “make it so that the first fret almost touches the strings, and so on to the end, because as the frets are nearer to the string, the strings sound like a harp, and the lute appears better.” In other words, lute strings should buzz against the frets, giving the sound of a bray harp.

The sound of the bray lute, bray harp and, in the second half of the video, gittern, can be heard in the video below.

Above we see the south string band of the central tower, with musicians on the right of the arch, left to right: lute, fiddle and, in the corner, drum.

The lute (right) is shown with 3 double courses which, as explained above, must be a practical/artistic reduction due to working in stone.

The gaps between courses are not evenly spaced, with a significantly larger gap between courses 1 and 2 than between courses 2 and 3. This is how lutes are made, but here it is hugely exaggerated. It is so exaggerated that we can raise the question of whether this was a carver, knowledgeable about luthiery, representing an aspect of the instrument so it may be visible from the ground, or whether his carving of the string courses was simply haphazard.

Descending from the forefinger and thumb of the plucking hand there are 2 lines, 1 at a right angle to the strings, indicating the use of a gut string as a plectrum, as attested in other iconography, such as the detail below from Virgin and Child with four angels by Gerard David, 1510–15 (The Met Fifth Avenue, New York).

The fiddle (shown right) is not to be confused with the later renaissance violin or modern day violin, from which it is distinct. The fiddle was known by various spellings, such as Middle English fithele, fidel, and variants, French vielle, viele, viella, viol, viola, viole, and Middle High German videle. It was made and played in the Middle Ages in such a variety of forms that it could be described more as a family than a singular instrument. All details were highly variable: size – very small to very large; shape – rectangular, oval, figure of 8; number of strings – between 3 and 6; tuning – Jerome of Moravia described 3 tunings for 5 strings in his Tractatus de Musica, Paris, c. 1280, and there were clearly other tunings for other numbers of strings; bridge type – flat or arced; and whether or not the neck was fretted.

This fiddle has 4 strings, shown clearly arranged in 2 double courses. This is the same string arrangement as on the Beverley Minster fiddle on the right of the reredos (altar screen), carved in the late 1330s or early 1340s and shown below.

In the video below, Kathryn Wheeler plays the fourth Salterello from the Tuscan manuscript, British Library Add 29987, c. 1400, on fiddle.

To learn more about the medieval fiddle, click here.

On the right we see the drummer in the corner of the south and west sides of the string band. Due to the angle of the instrument to the viewer, it isn’t possible to identify precisely what type of drum this is, but a naker is most likely.

In Arabic, these drums were naqqāra, part of the loud outdoor ceremonial band of Arabia. The shawm, trumpet and nakers were new to Europe in the late 11^th or early 12^th century, and the Arabian ceremonial band was itself adopted in Europe, reaching France by the 13^th century and England by the 14^th century, by which time naqqāra had been transformed linguistically to nakers.

Nakers were small kettledrums made of metal, wood or clay. Usually played in pairs suspended from a belt around the waist, it is easy to see how a pair of nakers could become a colloquial term for a part of the male anatomy (though I have failed to find this in any etymological dictionary). We see this below left in Beverley Minster, at the same angle to the viewer as in York Minster. A naker was occasionally played singly, as we see below right in a print after Hans Holbein the Younger.

The animal skin heads of nakers measured between 6 and 12 inches (15 to 30 centimetres), always played with a pair of beaters, and one or both heads often had a snare, a string on the surface of the drum. A pair of nakers were always of the same size. Evidence is lacking for whether the skins were equally tensioned and thus played the same note, or unequally tensioned, playing different notes. The latter seems more likely, as there is no musical advantage in having two drums at the same pitch. When they are shown in ensemble, rather than a single player, they are illustrated in various contexts: in the military, with trumpets; in sacred processional ensembles; or in a secular group.

To see and hear naqqāra (nagara or nagada) played in the eastern style, click here. To see a western player of nakers, click here.

Above we see the west string band of the central tower, with the drummer just described in the left corner and, on the right of the hanging cross, a left-handed lute player, carved with 3 courses, and another drummer, again most likely a naker, both shown in detail below.

Below, as a visual summary, is the assembled string band on the string band.

Pulpitum or Kings’ Screen: 56 musicians, 1473–1500

Next, chronologically, is the magnificent pulpitum or Kings Screen, which has so many musical carvings that it is the dedicated subject of the second article, available 17^th September 2025.

Above and below is a selection of some of the 56 musical representations carved on the pulpitum. 

Quire: gittern, c. 1803–35

In the west of the quire, on two columns either side of and above the wooden choir screen, are two carvings (shown above). York Minster does not have records dating them. On the left column is a man playing an inaccurate representation of what is probably supposed to be a gittern; on the right column is a frightened man with a frightened dog.

To see and hear a gittern being played, click on the picture below to hear La tierche Estampie Roial (The third Royal Estampie) from Manuscrit du roi, France, c. 1300.

If this Minster carving is intended to be a gittern, the medieval instrument which it most resembles, the details are wrong: it is played with fingers, and gitterns were only ever played with a plectrum; the body shape is wrong, being too oval; it is incapable of being tuned, as the peg box lacks pegs; and the peg box turns back into a scroll, rather than being sickle-shape as on a gittern.

There appear to be two potential historical sources for the carving, and one modern source. The first historical correlate is two gitterns in the Cantigas de Santa Maria (Códice de los músicos, Real Biblioteca del Monasterio de San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Madrid, RBME Cat b-I-2, folio 104r), a richly-illustrated collection of songs about the Virgin Mary, written 1257–83 by Alfonso X, King of Castile and other regions in modern day Spain and Portugal. The Cantigas illustration below shows two gitterns, one being played, the other tuned. According to this representation, (some? most? all?) gitterns in Iberia had D shaped sound holes, similar to but not the same as the Minster instrument’s C shape sound holes, and 4 simple holes rather than the usual single rose, which is a highly decorated sound hole, central to the body, sometimes with an additional smaller rose near the fingerboard.

The second historical correlate is a gittern in the vaulted roof of the quire of Gloucester Cathedral, carved 1337–50 (right). It is unusual due to its large size, larger than any other gittern in medieval iconography, and because it has two C holes rather than a central carved rose.

The artistic style of York Minster’s modern gittern carving is very different to an additional row of musicians on the pulpitum, added 1803–05 by Francis Bernasconi (described in the second article). However, there is a similarity in the way the quire gittern is represented and one of the instruments carved by Bernasconi. There are 7 of them, and clearly Bernasconi was either confused about medieval and renaissance instruments, or he was intending a vague approximation rather than historical accuracy. As we see below, the instruments have either C holes (4), a dog-leg hole (1), or a complete double circle (2 – it is a mystery how this is supposed to function as a sound hole). They are in the general shape of a lute, but on the tail they have what appear to be string-holders, which citoles and fiddles had, but lutes and gitterns never had. All of them lack peg boxes and pegs, but instead they fold back at the end of the neck, and it is this feature they have in common with the quire gittern.

There may be two explanations for this similarity: either the pulpitum lute-like instruments and the quire gittern were carved by the same mason or team of masons and installed at the same time, 1803–05, though in different styles; or the quire carving of the gittern player is later, using the pulpitum instruments as a model.

If the 2 quire carvings are later than the pulpitum additions, an event on 1^st February 1829 may be the key to their appearance.

Jonathan Martin, resident of York, had a traumatic childhood and was press-ganged into the navy. He was a Methodist who visited York Minster to leave written notes for the clergy, telling them they are “blind hypocrites”, “Vipers from Hell”, and that God will judge them. After Evensong on 1^st February 1829, he hid in the church so he would be locked in for the night. He then committed arson, destroying the quire. This was not discovered until the following morning, when choirboy Robert Swinbank slipped on ice on his way to school, then noticed smoke coming from the church. By then, the organ from 1632, the roof vault and all of the woodwork – stalls, pulpit, and archbishop’s throne – had been burned beyond repair. Jonathan Martin was arrested and pronounced insane. He spent the rest of his life in Bedlam Hospital.

Georgian craftsmen carved replacement woodwork for the quire, and it may be that the gittern player and the scared or shocked man and dog were carved in stone and installed as part of this post-arson work. This later date would account for the nature of the two specific carvings. What follows is my speculation, but the carvings make contextual sense if we imagine the following. The gittern player represents the lost medieval wood carvings of musicians that were destroyed in the quire blaze. The man on the other side wears the dagged (cut) hood popular in the late 14^th and into the 15^th century, which in the modern era is popularly seen as the stereotypical medieval hood. This man and his dog look on in horror as they overlook the wooden quire that was crafted in their era, seeing it go up in flames.

If this speculation is wrong, and the figures were added to the quire at the same time as the extra row of musicians on the pulpitum, then they must be dated 1803–05, but in that case we have no explanation for the carving of the horrified man and dog.

If my speculation is right, then the stone figures that now overlook the quire were carved and installed post-arson when the new quire benches were made, there is an explanation for their appearance, and they have a date range of 1829 to c. 1835.

The south quire aisle: violin, c. 1820

On the south wall of the south quire aisle is a war memorial plaque (above left), commemorating local soldiers who died in the conflicts of 1845–85, installed in 1886. Directly above it is mounted a sculpture of a poorly-dressed violinist (above right). A carving of a soldier may seem more appropriate, but it is easy to imagine a pauper fiddler playing a sad melody to remember the war dead. However, the two are unconnected. The sculpture of the fiddler was, according to the book supplied to York Minster guides, “possibly” made by W. Stout in c. 1820. It was previously mounted on the apex of a gable on the outside of the south transept. In 1880 it was removed to the crypt, then placed in its present position above the war memorial in 1946. Nothing is known of the meaning or significance of the musician, playing a modern violin.

What might a street fiddler have played in northern England in c. 1820? One possibility is a tune that may have first appeared as Miss Farquharson’s Reel in Robert Bremner, A Collection of Scots Reels or Country Dances, 1757, though it’s original title and date of first appearance is much disputed. It is now known under another title, My love is but a lassie yet, due to Scots poet Robert Burns (1759–96) writing verses to the tune under that title, after which the tune became known by the song title. It spread down to the north of England and appeared in 1770 in the music manuscript of William Vickers of Northumbria as My Lover’s Butt a Lady Yett; and is mentioned in Henry Robson’s poem of c. 1800, The Northern Minstrel’s Budget, listing popular Northumbrian song and dance tunes. By 1850 it had travelled to the south of England, to be written in the music manuscript of fiddler William Winters of West Bagborough, Somerset, as New Dance/My love is but a lassie yet. In the video below, it is played by Sarah Loughran. 

North and south transept east walls: harp, timbrel, portative organ, 1903–1915

To the left of the pulpitum is the north transept east wall, which leads to the north quire aisle. On the lower niches of this wall are two carvings of biblical musicians which commemorate two musicians associated with York Minster.

On the left is King David playing a harp, given in 1903 in memory of York Minster organist John Naylor, who died in 1897. It was designed by English architect, George Frederick Bodley (1827–1907), made by a sculptor whose name is lost (but see below). Bodley was part of the Gothic Revival, a movement to revive medieval and renaissance styles of architecture, the Gothic period being from the mid-12^th to the 16^th century. The Gothic Revival began in England in the 1740s, and there were several waves, peaking in the late 19^th century but lasting until the early 20^th century.

It has been noted above, in describing King David playing harp in the south window, that he is traditionally thought to have composed The Psalms. Originally written in Hebrew, the title of the book of Psalms – also called the Psalter – is derived from the 4^th century Latin translation of The Bible, which became the standard western version. In this Latin Vulgate, the collection of hymns is called Liber Psalmorum or Psalmi, which itself is derived from the Greek translation, psalmos, meaning a song text accompanied specifically by a stringed instrument. In both Jewish and Christian traditions, the singing of Psalms was and is a central part of the liturgy, but almost always without the originally indicated stringed instruments.

In medieval art up to the 12^th century, David plays a lyre, called a kinnor in the Hebrew Psalms, or he plays a harp. By the last quarter of the 12^th century onward, David is shown almost exclusively playing a harp, occasionally a psaltery. The York Minster Gothic Revival sculpture references that convention.

In the video below, Ian Pittaway plays medieval harp: La quarte Estampie Royal – The fourth Royal Estampie – from Manuscrit du roi, a manuscript of troubadour and trouvère songs written c. 1254–70, with instrumental pieces such as this estampie added c. 1300.

Next to David is Miriam. The name of the designer is not known, and it was sculpted by English artist Leonard Stanford Merrifield (1880–1943), given to the Minster in 1915. Miriam the prophetess was the older sister of Moses and Aaron. In Exodus 15: 1–18, Moses and the Israelites sing a song, praising YHWH for delivering them from slavery in Egypt by drowning the pursuing army of the pharaoh. This is followed in verses 20–21 by this passage, which explains why Miriam is identified in art by her playing a timbrel (tambourine):

“And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam sang to them: Sing to the LORD, for He is highly exalted: the horse and his rider He has thrown into the sea.”

At the foot of Miriam is carved: “To the glory of God. In loving memory of Alexandra Studholme, 1867–1907”. This is composer Alexandra Thomson Studholme, born in 1867, died 15^th October 1907. She was the daughter of the Archbishop of York, Reverend William Thomson, and Zoe Skene. She married John Studholme in 1897, and composed music under her maiden name, Alexandra Thomson.

Since the style of carving for David and Miriam is so similar, and they are next to each other, it is possible that Leonard Merrifield carved both figures, but it is unlikely that George Bodley designed both: he died on 21^st October 1907, only 6 days after Alexandra Studholme.

To the right of the pulpitum is the south transept east wall, which leads to the south quire aisle. As with the north transept east wall, on the lower niches are two carvings, in this case one of them musical. Both were designed by George Frederick Bodley and made by Farmer and Brindley in 1905. Farmer and Brindley were a firm of architectural sculptors in London, founded by William Farmer (1825–79) and William Brindley (1832–1919).

On the left is Saint John the evangelist, carrying a book presumably representing the works attributed to him: the Gospel of John, the three Johannine epistles, and Revelation or Apocalypse.

On the right is Saint Cecilia, playing the instrument she is traditionally associated with from the renaissance period on, the portative organ.

Cecilia’s story comes from the mid-5^th century Acts of the Martyrdom of Saint Cecilia, which describes her as being born to noble senatorial parents in 3^rd century Rome. She became a Christian as an infant, but her parents gave her in marriage to a noble pagan, Valerianus. She became the patron saint of music because her hagiography states that while the musicians played at her wedding, she sang in her heart to God alone.

Her hagiography tells the story that in their wedding chamber after the ceremony, Cecilia told Valerianus that she was already betrothed to one who guarded her body – an angel – and therefore Valerianus must not violate her virginity. Valerianus wanted to see the angel, so Cecilia sent him to meet Pope Urban I to be baptised, since only with the eyes of faith could one see a divine being. He returned to Cecilia a Christian convert, whereupon an angel appeared to them both, crowning them with roses, symbol of the Virgin Mary, and lilies, representing purity, innocence, and renewal. Soon Valerianus’ brother, Tiburtius, was also converted.

This was the period of Roman persecution of Christians, so the Roman prefect, Turcius Almachius, condemned the brothers to death. The officer he appointed to carry out the execution, Maximus, was converted to Christianity himself and was martyred with them. Cecilia was then sentenced to be suffocated in the bath of her own house, which she had made a place of worship for the Roman church. When she was unharmed in the overheated room, Turcius Almachius ordered her to be decapitated there, but after three attempts the executioner could not separate her head from her neck, and he fled, with Cecilia drenched in her own blood. She lived for three days, during which time she gave away her property to the poor and stated that upon her death her house should continue to be a church. Pope Urban I had her buried in the Catacomb of Callistus with the bishops and confessors (the martyrs who died under Roman persecution).

In renaissance art, Cecilia is almost always seen with a portative organ, developed in the 13^th century, so it was not an instrument Cecilia could have known. It is so-called because it is portable, being a small organ hung by a strap over the shoulder by a standing or sitting musician. It was preceded by the larger positive organ, which required two people: one to play the instrument, another to work the bellows that supplied the instrument with air for the pipes. On a portative organ, a single player presses the buttons (later keys) and works the bellows.

As we see on the right, the carving portrays the playing of the portative organ in a way that is impossible in reality. Since it is shown without a strap, while Cecilia plays the keys with her right hand she has to support the instrument with her left hand, which makes it impossible for her to work the bellows.

The association of Saint Cecilia with the organ is no doubt due to its central and unique place in Christian worship: there is no evidence of any musical instrument other than the organ ever being used or allowed for use in the liturgy in the western Catholic Church; the pronouncements of church leaders specifically forbade any instrument than the organ for the liturgy; and this proscription is confirmed by evidence of historical practice. Among the documentary evidence is the treatises of Guido d’Arezzo (Micrologus, Italy, c. 1026) and Philippe de Mézières (Nova religio passionis, France, 1367–68); church rulings banning all instruments in the liturgy except the organ, such as the Church Councils of Trier (1221), Lyons (1274), Milan (1287) and Vienna (1331); and several eye-witness accounts of the liturgy in which only the organ is mentioned.

Above are two of the typical renaissance depictions of Saint Cecilia: left, a detail from the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece, 1450–1500, with an angel helpfully holding up the strap (Alte Pinakothek, the Bavarian State Painting Collections); right, a cross altarpiece also by the Master of the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece, c. 1490–95, also with an angel helpfully holding up the strap (Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Köln, Inv. No. WRM 180); and below left is another, folio 112r of a French book of prayers, 1500–25 (Bibliothèque municipale, Valenciennes, Ms. 1206). In the later baroque period, Cecilia is also depicted singing or variously playing the larger organ, lute, violin or cello and, in the modern period, the harp. Below right is a modern depiction by German-Belgian painter Fanny Paelinck-Horgnies, Holy Cecilia, 1829, which shows the saint playing the type of arched harp seen in excavations from Pharaonic Egypt dated 1450 BC, so this is the artist’s attempt to depict the type of harp that may have been present in the saint’s lifetime.

In the video below, early music duo Falsobordone (Erik Ask-Upmark and Anna Rynefors) play the istanpitta Isabella from a Tuscan manuscript in the British Library, Add MS 29987, c. 1400, performed on portative organ and timbrel.

Part 2: the pulpitum

The missing part of this chronological tour of York Minster’s musical instrument iconography is the pulpitum or Kings Screen. With its 56 depictions of 20 different instruments carved in 1473–1500, it requires a dedicated article.

Click here for that article, available 17^th September 2025, to view the carvings and see videos of shawms, bagpipes, trumpets, transverse flute, recorder, double recorder, lutes, bray harps, gitterns, rotas, fiddles, symphonie, tromba marina, portative organs, positive organ, clavicimbalum, cymbals, fool’s percussion, triangle, nakers, and singers. Each carving of an instrument is photographed, described, and accompanied by a video of the instrument playing music.

 

© Ian Pittaway. Not to be reproduced in any form without permission. All rights reserved.

 

Bibliography

Ashworth, Jack (2007) Keyboard Instruments. In: Kite-Powell, Jeffery (editor), A Performer’s Guide to Renaissance Music. Second Edition. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Badke, David (2024) Medieval Bestiary: Fox. Available here.

Baines, Anthony (1961) Musical Instruments Through the Ages. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.

Baldwin, Alex; Hammer, Troels; Peciulis, Edvinas; Williams, Peter; Overholt, Dan; Serafin, Stefania (2016) Tromba Moderna: A Digitally Augmented Medieval Instrument. Available here.

Barber, Richard (1992) Bestiary, MS Bodley 764. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press.

Barker, Virgil, (1926) Pieter Bruegel the Elder: A study of his paintings. New York: The Arts Publishing Corporation.

Brown, Sarah (2003) ‘Our Magnificent Fabrick’: York Minster: An Architectural History c. 1220–1500. Swindon: English Heritage.

Bulmer, Jane (2011) York Minster. Souvenir Guide. Exeter: Jigsaw Design and Publishing.

Chapter of York (undated) Traitor on trial. Available here.

Chapter of York (2025) Creating one of the kingdom’s greatest churches. Available here.

Chapter of York (2025) A Grand Organ rises from the ashes. Available here.

Esparza, Daniel (2019) The meaning of bees and beehives in Christian Art. Available here.

Fleming, Michael & Page, Christopher (editors) (2021) Music and Instruments of the Elizabethan Age. The Eglantine Table. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press.

Grocheio, Johannes de – see Mews, Constant J. et al

Heringman, Noah (2023) The Horn of Ulf. Available here.

Heyl, Christoph (2021) The Pastoral Pipes. Available here.

Historic Myths (2011) Myth #1: The Cautionary Tale of Fox Tails. Available here.

Kirsch, J. P. (1907) Saint Cecilia. Available here.

Kunst Historisches Museum Wien (2018) Carnival vs. Lent. Available here.

Lander, Nicholas S. (1996–2025) Recorder Home Page: History: How the recorder got its name. Available here.

Lander, Nicholas S. (1996–2025) Recorder Home Page: History: Medieval period. Available here.

McLaughlan, Richard (2025) The Bagpipes. A Cultural History. London: Hurst & Company.

Mews, Constant J.; Crossley, John N.; Jeffreys, Catherine; McKinnon, Leigh; Williams, Carol J. (editors and translators) (2011) Johannes de Grocheio: Ars musice. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications.

Montagu, Jeremy & Gwen (1998) Minstrels & Angels. Carvings of Musicians in Medieval English Churches. Berkeley: Fallen Leaf Press.

Myers, Herbert (2000) Reeds & Brass. In: Duffin, Ross W. (editor), A Performer’s Guide to Medieval Music. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Myers, Herbert (2000) String Keyboards. In: Duffin, Ross W. (editor), A Performer’s Guide to Medieval Music. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Myers, Herbert (2007) Recorder. In: Kite-Powell, Jeffery (editor), A Performer’s Guide to Renaissance Music. Second Edition. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Myers, Herbert (2007) Renaissance Flute. In: Kite-Powell, Jeffery (editor), A Performer’s Guide to Renaissance Music. Second Edition. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Nickson, Dr. Tom (2020) The Screen at York Minster and Images of Kingship in Late Medieval England. MA dissertation, available here. (This is under the account name of Charlotte Cook, who is not the author. You need an www.academia.edu account to read the paper.)

Odom, Karen (2018) Dagging. Available here.

Page, Christopher (1983) The Medieval Organistrum and Symphonia. 2: Terminology. The Galpin Society Journal, Vol. 36 (March 1983), pp. 71-87. Available here.

Page, Christopher (1991) Summa Musice. A thirteenth-century manual for singers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Parrott, Andrew (2022) The Pursuit of Musick. Musical life in original writings and art, c. 1200–1770. Oxford: Taverner.

Pittaway, Ian (2015) The bray harp: getting a buzz from early music. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2015) The gittern: a short history. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2015) The lute: a brief history from the 13^th to the 18^th century. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2015) The mysteries of the medieval fiddle: lifting the veil on the vielle. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2015) The Psilvery Psound of the Psaltery: a brief history. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2016) The crumhorn: a short history. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2018) The medieval portative organ: an interview with Cristina Alís Raurich. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2020) Sumer is icumen in / Perspice Christicola: silencing the cuckoo. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2021) Jheronimus Bosch and the music of hell. Part 1/3: The modern myth of Bosch’s butt music. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2021) Jheronimus Bosch and the music of hell. Part 2/3: The Garden of Earthly Delights. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2021) Jheronimus Bosch and the music of hell. Part 3/3: Music and musicians in the complete works of Bosch. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2021) Performable music in medieval and renaissance art. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2021) Tarleton’s Resurrection. Part 1/4: Tarleton’s place in the history of fools, clowns and jesters. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2021) “the verray develes officeres”: minstrels and the medieval church. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2022) The medieval harp (1/3): origins and development. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2022) The medieval harp (2/3): harp symbolism. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2023) Alliterative animals making medieval music in Saint Mary’s Church, Cogges (14^th century). Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2023) The medieval minstrels of Beverley Minster. Part 2/8: The minstrels of the arcades, triforium and capital. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2023) The medieval minstrels of Beverley Minster. Part 3/8: The minstrels of the west, north and south walls. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2023) The medieval minstrels of Beverley Minster. Part 4/8: The minstrels of the tombs, reredos, Saint Katherine’s chapel, and south transept. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2023) The medieval minstrels of Beverley Minster. Part 7/8: Tudor misericords and neo-Gothic musicians. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2024) How reliable is medieval music iconography? Part 1/3: Understanding medieval art). Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2024) How reliable is medieval music iconography? Part 2/3: 10 principles for interpreting iconography. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2024) Medieval plectrums: the written, iconographical and material evidence. Part 1/2: Medieval plectrum materials and manufacture. Available here.

Pittaway, Ian (2024) Medieval plectrums: the written, iconographical and material evidence. Part 2/2: Medieval and early renaissance plectrum technique. Available here.

Powell, Dr. Ardal (2000) Flute History Instruments By Period. Available here.

Powell, Dr. Ardal (2000) Flute History Timelines. Available here.

Praetoris, Michael (1618, this edition 1980) Syntagma Musicum. Volume II: De Organographia, First and Second Parts. Translated by Harold Blumenfeld. New York: Da Capo Press.

Raine, James (1859) The Fabric Rolls of York Minster. London: Whittacker and Co.

Rech, Adelheid (2008) Music in the Daily Life of Vermeer: The Rommelpot. Available here.

Richman-Abdou, Kelly (2020) Curious Bruegel Painting Contrasts the Solemn Nature of Lent With the Fun and Folly of Mardi Gras. Available here.

Royal Collection Trust (undated) Cornelius Bloemaert (1603-92) The rommelpot player c. 1625–35. Available here.

Salaman, Clare (2018) Trumpet marine. Available here.

Schmitt, Dick (2006) York Minster – The Quire. Available here.

Traditional Tune Archive (2025) My Love is but a Lassie Yet. Available here. 

Verbeek, Pierre (2019) An Interpretation of the Hammered Clavisimbalum of Henri-Arnaut de Zwolle c. 1440. Presented at the 45th Clavichordtage of the Deutsche Clavichord Societät in the Hansestadt Stade, 27–29 September 2019. Available here.

Virdung, Sebastian (1511) Musica getutsch und außgezogen. Facsimile available online by clicking here.

Vohra, Pragya (2023) The history of York: a northern powerhouse of many names. Available here.

Warner, Rex (1979) The Stories of the Greeks. London: Book Club Associates.

Winternitz, Emanuel (1982) Leonardo da Vinci as a musician. New Haven: Yale University Press.

York Civic Trust (undated) How the Minster was built. Available here.

York Waits (undated) About The York Waits. Available here.