Noël normand Rouen 1474

Interview with hurdy-gurdy player, recorder player and singer Tobie Miller, on the occasion of the program “Noël normand” in December 2022.

Thomas Christ: Dear Tobie, I am very happy to welcome an internationally known virtuoso of a relatively unknown instrument – the hurdy-gurdy – to interview. Your mother was a violinist, you grew up in Canada, please tell us how you found your way to early music in the New World. You have already before you came to Basel in Montreal, he studied early music at McGill University.

Tobie Miller: Thank you! It is my honor and pleasure to be involved in this project! – I guess my love of early music started early (childhood and teen years), but deciding to pursue further was definitely an act of teenage rebellion! As a child I played the violin, piano and sang – in a children’s choir I was inspired to play the recorder (I was jealous of some children who learned it at school). This became a kind of passion …

I’m in . .. by David Fallows

Two and a half years ago (April 2020), Elizabeth Rumsey approached me with a proposal to collaborate on a reconstruction of the 1474 Rouen Christmas Play. My first reaction was, “Never heard of it”; my second reaction was, “Well, I should, so I’d better find out”; and because computer research takes a correspondingly long time for me, it then took about a week before I had downloaded all three volumes of the 1880 edition. It wasn’t until much later that further computer research revealed that I had already provided an excellent description of the Christmas game in an article published in 1983; so I knew it then, but had completely forgotten it in the intervening forty years.

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This concert is dedicated to a Christmas mystery play about the incarnation and birth of Christ, performed at the “neuf marchié” in Rouen in 1474. The only surviving source – a print that appeared about 20 years later – arouses particular interest: In 12 places in this book there are instructions for sung passages for which space was left blank for the entry of notes. In none of the three surviving copies of the print was music entered; however, the page and text divisions leave no doubt that polyphonic songs were intended here – mostly three- or four-part, once also two-part and once five-part. The placement of the texts also makes it clear that these particular pages of the book were set up like the surviving French chansonniers from around 1470, with all the voices read off a double page spread and the remaining text placed at the bottom of the page. Most of the pieces are in the famous “formes fixes” (the “fixed forms”) of secular song, which were popular in France in the 14. and 15th century were maintained.

Since the poems here are all sacred (as befits the theme of the play), we must assume that the original music was intended for secular songs and that the texts here are the so-called “noëls,” as they were called in French. In fact, the known French repertoire of “noëls” does not begin until some years later, but from the years around 1470 there are numerous Italian sources for “laude spirituali” with the note “cantasi come” (“to be sung to the tune of”) followed by the name of a secular song to be used for the music (and in this Italian repertoire many of the songs mentioned were indeed French and polyphonic, some of which have been used for our reconstruction).

Therefore, for this concert we have chosen the music of French songs from the early 1470s and set the printed sacred texts on them. Most of the movements selected here survive today in ten or more sources, which means that they were among the most popular songs of their time, i.e., the songs most likely to have been selected for the original performance in 1474.

In doing so, we will not manage to reproduce the scope of the original production. The printed edition concludes with a list of 78 speaking parts, without counting the instrumentalists, who were apparently positioned invisibly behind the stage and were to be used especially for the polyphonic songs. In several places there are instructions for singing the polyphonic songs, occasionally requiring the instruments to play alone while the angels on stage were to pretend to be the ones playing their instruments. This seems to indicate that the instrumentation of the songs was somewhat fuller than we are used to today – hence the many duplications in our interpretations.

What we also can’t come close to is the sheer length of the original production. It’s hard to give definite numbers, but the performance spanned two days and fills about 450 pages in the original print. This means at least eight hours of pure performance time, to which the many scene changes and stage actions must be added. We can confidently leave this ambition to a larger production with far more extensive financing and an extremely patient audience. In short, what we offer here is the best we can do with our resources – a mere reflection of the original, but also a reminder of what was possible in the 15th century.

The composers we hear here were well known in the 1470s. Johannes Ockeghem was the leader of the French royal chapel since 1452. Hayne van Ghizeghem had been active at the Burgundian ducal court since 1457 and at the French royal court as late as the early 1490s. Loÿset Compere is perhaps the youngest composer here: he is first mentioned in 1474 at the ducal court of Milan, although his career was obviously well advanced by then. Johannes Martini worked at the ducal court of Ferrara from 1473. At least one single document from the Milan court from 1477 is known about the life of Colinet de Lannoy. Only the Englishman John Bedyngham is almost not at all archivally tangible, although his works have been copied very frequently in continental sources since the early 1450s, and he is known to have died in 1458-59 (a detail you are reading here for the first time: all existing printed references to him erroneously give his death as a year later). Finally, the anonymous piece in the program is a wild card: The text sung by the Gentiles in Bethlehem is completely incomprehensible, so we took the music of an almost equally incomprehensible piece from the same period: Cados cados adonay cherubim; and miraculously the text fits like a glove.

David Fallows

(Translation: Marc Lewon)

This concert celebrates a Christmas mystery play on the Incarnation and Nativity of Christ as performed at the ‘neuf marchié’ of Rouen in 1474. Part of its interest lies in the only source, a printed book from about twenty years later. On twelve occasions in this book there are directions for singing, with spaces left for the music to be added. No music was entered in any of the three surviving copies of the book; but the placing of the text on the page makes it absolutely clear that these were all polyphonic songs – mostly in three or four voices but once in two and once in five. The placing of the texts also makes clear that these particular pages of the book were planned like the surviving French chansonniers of the years around 1470, with all voices readable from the same opening and the remaining text at the bottom of the page. Most of the pieces are in the famous ‘fixed forms’ of secular song cultivated in France throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

Since the poems here are all sacred (as befits the theme of the play), we must assume that the original music was for secular songs and that the texts here are what were called ‘noëls’ in French. Actually, the known French repertory of ‘noëls’ begins a few years later, but from the years around 1470 there are many Italian poetry sources of ‘laude spirituali’ with annotation ‘cantasi come’ (sing it like) followed by the name of a secular song to be used for the music (and in that Italian repertory many of the songs mentioned were in fact French and polyphonic, several of them being used for our reconstruction).

So for this concert we have chosen the music of French songs from around the early 1470s and pasted the printed sacred texts on to them. Most of the music chosen here survives in ten or more sources today, which is to say that these were among the most widely loved songs of their time, namely the ones most likely to have been chosen for the original production in 1474.

What we cannot do is to match the scale of the original production. The printed edition ends with a list of seventy-eight speaking roles, without mentioning the instrumentalists who were apparently invisible behind the stage but regularly playing particularly in the polyphonic songs. At several points there are instructions about the singing of the polyphonic songs whereby the instruments occasionally play alone and the angels on stage pretend to play instruments. What that seems to mean is that the scoring of the songs is rather fuller than we are used to today, hence the inclusion of much doubling in our performances.

What we also cannot begin to match is the sheer length of the original production. Clear figures are hard to reach. But it spread over two days and fills about 450 pages in the original print. So eight hours minimum and probably a lot more with the various bits of scene-changing and stage-action. That ambition we can safely leave to a larger company with far fuller financial support and an extremely patient but supportive audience. In short, what we offer here is the best we can – a mere shadow of the original but a reminder of things that were possible in the fifteenth century.

The composers we have used here were well known in the 1470s. Johannes Ockeghem had been head of the French royal chapel since 1452. Hayne van Ghizeghem had been at the Burgundian ducal court since 1457 and was at the French royal court still in the early 1490s. Loÿset Compere may be the youngest composer here: he is first documented at the Milan ducal court in 1474, though his career was plainly well advanced at that point. Johannes Martini was at the ducal court of Ferrara from 1473. Colinet de Lannoy’s life is known only from a single document at the court of Milan in 1477. Only the Englishman John Bedyngham is almost without biographical documentation, though his works were very widely copied in continental sources from the early 1450s and he died in the years 1458-59 (a detail that you are reading for the first time: all existing printed references to him wrongly have his death a year later). Finally, the anonymous piece was a wild-card: the text sung by the gentiles in Bethlehem is entirely incomprehensible, so we took the music of an almost incomprehensible piece from the same years,
Cados cados adonay cherubim
; and by some wonder the text fits the music like a glove.

David Fallows