Micrologus; Estampie & Danse Royale

82-25 ESTAMPIE AND DANSE REAL

There are approximately 35 dances preserved from the Middle Ages, or, to be perfectly accurate, I should say that there are approximately 35 pieces without text which are presumed to be dances. Very few of them actually bear the designation "dance" in their original sources—in fact, there is quite a confusing array of terms. Some are referred to as estampies, some as saltarelli, and occasionally there is a nota, a trotto, a ductia, or a danse réal. Even the experts disagree about the distinctions between some of these forms. And very little is known, too, about dance choreography in the Middle Ages—we have French terms like caroler, danser, and baller, and the carole, at least, we know was some kind of line dance or circle dance (like the branle in the Renaissance), but we are still not sure what music would be appropriate for the steps. As I said—a confusing picture!

One thing about which everybody seems to agree is that the earliest reference to one of these dance terms occurs in connection with a song by the late 12th-century troubadour, Raimbaut de Vaqueiras, "Kalenda Maya." According to the traditional description of the song's origin, Raimbaut composed the piece to the melody of an estampida which he had heard performed by two vielle players. Appropriately, we now hear "Kalenda Maia," performed by countertenor Richard Levitt with the vielle players Sterling Jones and Johannes Fink of the Studio der Frühen Musik. The song itself is preceded by a long improvisation, based on the melody, by the two vielles.

[MUSIC]

Sometime around the year 1300, a treatise on music was written by a man named Johannes de Grocheo. In fact, he is about the only theorist of his time to give practical information about the music around him. Most theorists were concerned with the metaphysics of music or aspects of the rapidly changing notational system. But, along with a few other things, Grocheo tries to define the various forms in current use. And among these are stantipes and ductia. Stantipes, we assume, is the Latin form of the French word estampie, and indeed, his description of it seems to correspond to estampies which have been preserved. He says that the stantipes is an untexted piece made up of a series of musical sections, called puncta, each one of which is repeated. These sections have one ending for the first time through and another ending for the repeat. Grocheo calls these endings "open and closed"—nowadays we would use the terms "1st and 2nd endings." He also says that a stantipes normally has six or seven of these repeated musical sections.

Inserted in a manuscript of troubadour and trouvère songs, copied about the same time Grocheo was writing, is a group of pieces with the designation Estampie royal—eight of them, in fact, and as Grocheo described, they each consist of a series of repeated musical sections, some with as many as seven and others with as few as four. We hear some of these shorter ones now, again performed by the Studio der Frühen Musik, directed by Thomas Binkley.

[MUSIC]

There are three other untexted pieces in the same manuscript as these eight estampies—one has no label, one is actually called Danse and one is called Danse réal. They differ from the estampies, in general, by being shorter—only three or four musical sections—and in that respect they correspond exactly to what Johannes de Grocheo gives as the definition of a ductia. So why aren't they called ductia in the manuscript? Obviously the terminology in the Middle Ages was as non-standard as it is today. At any rate, modern performers have found that short dance pieces such as these make excellent interludes between the verses of song. This performance of one of the three ductia-type pieces in question is excerpted from the Studio der Frühen Musik's recording of the song "A chantar," by the 12th century troubadour, the Countess of Dia.

[MUSIC]

One curious thing about Grocheo's definition of ductia is his reference to the human voice. He says:

“A ductia is an untexted piece, measured with an appropriate beat. I say "untexted" because, although it can be performed by the human voice and represented in notation, it cannot, however, be written in words, since it is lacking in word and text.”

This passage has been interpreted by Thomas Binkley as a license to include vocalizatlon as part of the texture in the following performance of a ductia. I should mention also that while most medieval dances are monophonic, this one has two melodic lines.

[MUSIC]

One of the most valuable and certainly the best-known source for medieval dances is an Italian manuscript of the 14th century which is now in the British Library. In it are found several dances with the designation istanpita, which is presumably the Italian word corresponding to the French estampie. Also included are a handful of salterelli and one trotto. These latter are among the best known of all medieval dances. You may well recognize, for example, this salterello performed by David Munrow.

[MUSIC]

All of the dances in this manuscript, by the way, use the same principle of organization as the estampie described by Grocheo, that is, a series of repeated musical sections. The istanpite, however, are much longer than the salterelli and the trotto and, indeed, they are the longest and formally the most complex of all medieval dances. They also bear colorful and sometimes enigmatic titles. The first one, for example is called “Istanpita Gaetta," which is thought by some to be a reference to the Gajda, or Near-Eastern bagpipe, like the one you just heard. This kind of connection in the terminology, plus certain resemblances to Near-Eastern melodic types in these dances has led many to presume a strong Arabic influence in the performance style, and that is why some of the performers you have heard today sound like Moroccan café musicians (as one of my friends put it). The degree of this Arabic influence in European performance style and instrumentation is under dispute; but one thing that seems certain regarding instrumentation in Europe, is that a pair of vielles was a popular combination. We heard them mentioned in connection with "Kalenda mala," and throughout the rest of the Middle Ages right into the 15th century, the image of two vielles playing together keeps reappearing.

We now hear the istanpita "Chominciamento di gioia" (the beginning of joy), performed on vielles by Wendy Gillespie and Mary Springfels.

[MUSIC]

On a different occasion, but also in a concert by Pomerium Musices in New York, I heard those same two performers perform that piece. As soon as they had finished, a distinguished musicologist who happened to be sitting next to me leaned over and said: "Well, if that piece did not sound like that in the Middle Ages, it should have!"

One last thing about istanpite from the famous manuscript—the “Istanpita tre fontane" (three fountains), or at least the first part of it, is by now familiar to you, in a performance by David Munrow and the Early Music Consort of London, as the theme of Micrologus!