#binchois

“One could say that in the old art (and probably also among the Netherlanders), the ultimate aim of all contrapuntal skill is to produce parts in such a way that they give a ‘comprehensible’ total sound (my terminology!) in many (or all) of the positions in which one puts them together. From a different point of view, the necessary condition for this is that every relationship of simultaneity between two or more parts should allow each part to continue in what ever way one wishes (upwards, downwards, stationary), so that there is no question of dissonance treatment such as appears in the old theory of counterpoint – for none of the dissonant intervals is under any obligation and each sound-combination of that kind can be resolved in all possible ways, I often explained this similarly to my pupils (and was the first to do so in our time), and also to some extent gave them the mans with which to do it (they are not to be found in any book, and have since the Netherlanders, evidently been known only to J.S. Bach and myself).” (Schoenberg, Style and Idea, “Old and New Counterpoint, 1928″, pg. 288).

The “Netherlanders”, which Schoenberg refers to, are the Franco-Flemish composers of the Renaissance: Guillaume Dufay, Gilles Binchois (a personal favorite), Antoine Busnois, Johannes Ockeghem, and, most notably, Josquin de Préz.

He is correct in asserting that there is a very unique quality in the writing of these composers, hardly seen in any composers of the classical or romantic period, which will be discussed.

The elements I admire in much of the music of these composers are 1) the independence of each melody (both rhythmically and melodically), and 2) the cohesive ‘total sound’ produced, which doesn’t fully conform to common practice tonal harmony (which had yet to be developed).

Above is a transcription that I made of the beginning of “Quant de vous seul je pers la veue” by Johannes Ockeghem (one of my favorite works of the Renaissance), accompanied by my poor attempts at creating phrase marks.

As can be seen, each of the three lines serve as melodies in of themselves, but, together, create a stunning series of textures and movements. Each line presents its own structure, recalls past recurrences in itself, and, at times, imitates, or even adds on to, the other lines in passing, giving the music both stark variety and cohesion.

My favorite characteristic of Ockeghem is his impeccable sense of pace (and how to effectively create said pacing).

Take measure five, for example:

The entire measure is a constant increase of activity (to propel the listener into the next measure; a comfortable landing on an F in the cello [which imitates the tenor]). Beat one and beat two steadily present variations of eighth note pulses. Beat three increases to sixteenth note pulses (growing anticipation). But then, on beat four, there is a breathtaking openness in the rhythm, leaving the listener floating in the air for a split second, and is cushioned into the next measure by the final sixteenth note in the cello.

This effect is primarily thanks to the Lute, whose part increases in duration as the measure progresses, creating a sense of weightlessness in the music (or, for me, like a bird taking off).

It is beautiful, surreal moments such as these which attract me to French music.

Inside each of these lines is another whole level of variety, especially in the rhythmic sense, take the tenor line in the Ockeghem, for instance:

In this music, gesture is more the material for development rather than strict interval relationships or metrical structure. In this case, the ‘motif’ is the descending line, which becomes more and more apparent as the passage continues. The first instances take much longer, and resemble more of a cambiata (such as in 10-11) rather than a scalar descent. This changes once we’ve arrived at the sequencing of 13 and 14, the brief 3/8 phrasing of 16, and the long quarter notes at 17 (the longer rhythmic durations preparing the listener for the end).

These rhythmic fluctuations give the music a special vitality; providing the same ideas with multiple perspectives.

Intense independence, not just from line to line, but also from phrase to phrase is taken to wonderful extremes in this music. Simultaneously, a great sense of unity is created among the parts by the use of similar gesture and rhythm.

Composer: Gilles Binchois (ca 1400 - 1460)

Work: Qui veu mesdire (year unknown)