Laments of the Renaissance

[Squigglenob]

The need to provide rituals at ceremonies for the dead appears to be one of the oldest characteristics of recorded human history—there is considerable archeological evidence that rituals of some sort accompany burials as far back as the neolithic period, 6,000 years ago. And the playing of music as part of these rituals is a practice nearly as old as recorded history. Musical instruments of some sort show up in the early graves of any number of prehistoric sites, with the earliest being dated to 42,000 years ago. It’s a practice that spans cultures as well—from Asia to Africa to the mid-east to Europe and the Western Hemisphere. As far as we can tell, music has been an integral part of death ceremonies for tens of thousands of years, perhaps longer. Roman funerals had both instrumental music and funeral songs as part of the ceremony. Some of these ceremonies are livelier than others, to be sure—jazz funerals in New Orleans are not likely to be confused with a funeral mass at Saint Peter’s.

The emergence of singing as part of such rituals, of course, is more problematic—unlike an instrument, singing leaves little in the way of an archeological record. It’s the Ancient Greeks who can be held responsible, as in so many things, for giving this practice a name. The Lament is a specific form of Greek poetry and, by accounts, music as well. The form shows up in both The Iliad and The Odyssey, for example. The lament is a particular form of song—it’s a carefully controlled expression of grief. Laments were not always songs, however, and not always associated with funerals—on occasion, they were simply poetic expressions of grief or distress. Over time, laments became associated with specific aspects of the Christian liturgy, including the Book of Lamentations from the Old Testament, which has provided inspiration for a number of composers, particularly during the Renaissance. But laments fit any number of biblical contexts, particularly those of The Psalms. And even more—Arvo Pärt’s Adam’s Lament conveys Adam’s distress at his banishment from Eden, a Biblical event if there ever was one.

But Greek laments, and those of other pre-Christian cultures, encompassed more personal concerns—particularly the grief and distress at the loss of a loved one. In our program, The Lamenting Lowlands: Odes and elegies of the Franco-Flemish Renaissance, we present a group of lamentations, or déplorations, composed by (mostly) Franco-Flemish composers for their teachers, influences or friends. As such, these are pieces that often reflect the composer’s genuine grief at the passing of a friend or teacher. And in many cases, that’s exactly what we get. Josquin des Prez did indeed know and admire Johannes Ockeghem, for example. In other cases the lament appears to have been one based on the respect and appreciation of one composer for another. There appears to be some question as to whether Ockeghem actually knew Binchois, for example. In such cases, the purpose of the lament is to pay homage to the departed for his influence, his goodness (of course), and, in particular, his musical legacy.

By the time of the early Renaissance the funeral, or Requiem, mass, had become an elaborate affair...

Read the rest at Scholars & Rogues.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

1. thanks for posting this

[Squigglenob]

2. my pleasure!

[Fortinbras Armstrong]

3. Mournful music, such as