Crux
Cross, form of penitence, key of grace, mace of sin, vein of forgiveness,
root of the wood of justice, way of life, banner of glory, bed of the beloved in midday sun,
light that fully illuminates the cloud of sadness, serenity of conscience.
May man bear it [the cross], may he draw strength from it.
The Cross is necessary if you want to sustain the joys of the true light.
The Cross, one of the most prominent religious symbols in history, is
meant to remind Christians of God’s act of love in Christ’s
sacrifice at Calvary bringing victory over sin and death. The
crucifixion of Christ and the Cross itself are among the most popular
motifs of art, literature and music of any period and were certainly
central topics of medieval art, as in 13th century Paris where a new
musical style, known as the Notre-Dame School, blossomed. The influence
of the Notre Dame School spread across the whole of Europe. Here we
witness an incredibly rich production of new monophonic and polyphonic
music, the latter including organa, motets and conductus. The pieces of
this last genre in particular not only represent complex and elaborate
music of the highest quality, but also offer a glimpse of the large
number of strong and beautiful texts connected with the motif of
crucifixion or dealing with medieval Christian meditations on the
meaning of mortal life.
Most of these pieces, like the 3-part conductus on Christ’s
obedience towards the Father, Quis tibi Christe meritas, whose
text artfully quotes the gradual for Maundy Thursday, are anonymous.
Some, however, can be attributed to a contemporary author. Among them
is one of the most important figures of that time, the Parisian
theologian and university master Philip the Chancellor (c.1165-1236).
This renowned preacher and philosopher was also a lyric poet to whom
more than 80 Latin songs and conductus are ascribed in various
manuscripts. To some texts he may even have written the melodies,
however we do not have any evidence for this. His lyrics, mostly
commenting on topical religious events, are characterized by a great
deal of word-play, rich usage of symbols and elaborate structure. Many
are concerned with moral admonition and mercilessly attack the corrupt
clergy. Thus, Christ’s passion was a perfect motif through which
to comment on contemporary hypocrisy and abuse of power.
Christ’s sufferings are poignantly described in Philip’s
2-part conductus Clavus pungens acumine. The clavus/clavis
(nail/key) word-play dominates the entire piece. The nails are a
reminder of Christ’s cruel death: “Through the mystery of
the nails, the heavenly kingdom is announced, through the work of the
heavenly artisan the nail becomes a key”. But the corrupt
priests, who are supposed to be carrying the keys of wisdom and true
faith, throw them away through their extravagant and sinful way of
life. The last verses of the piece speak directly to the
“shepherds” gone astray: “You who have become a pack
of wolves, you rip apart Christ’s limbs, and, misusing the keys,
you transform them into nails”.
Nails, torture, wretched humans and ungrateful Christianity, with
allusions to the lamentations of Jeremiah, are also the focus of
another piece by Philip the Chancellor, the 1-part conductus Homo
vide que pro te patior. Lamenting Christ speaks himself, calling
the faithful to obey the commandments, avoid sin and thus choose the
road to salvation. Similar advice is given in the opening piece, a
1-part rondellus, Breves dies hominis, evoking the shortness
and fragility of human life and of the perils of physical corruption.
Another rare piece presenting a personal lament of Christ and alluding
to the lamentations of Jeremiah is the 1-part rondellus Vineam meam
plantavi, here enriched by improvised voices in the refrain. The
Saviour’s solitude is expressed with the words: “I planted
my vine, I have trodden the winepress alone. The vine did not yield the
fruit I was hoping for, blood has stained my clothes”. The text
also quotes Isaiah’s prophesies. Christ enumerates all his
sufferings for man (“I drank the vinegar, I did not refuse the
whip”) as well as his achievements (“I laid waste Hell, I
banished him who held mankind in bondage”), concluding with the
words: “I who prepared my body for the Cross, on the third day
called back my soul”.
One of the sorrowful witnesses of Christ’s Passion was the Virgin
Mary – another important motif of medieval art and literature,
found in three pieces in this album. Planctus ante nescia by
Geoffrey (d. 1198), the subprior of Saint Victor in Paris, certainly
belonged to the best-known tunes of the late 12th and 13th centuries
and was used in numerous contrafacta, both musical and textual,
throughout the whole of medieval Europe. This masterpiece is an
incredibly courageous psychological study of grief and wrath, doubt and
despair and speaks of the deepest darkness in the soul of the grieving
Virgin Mother but also of her reconciliation with her son’s
death. In a similar way, Stabat iuxta, a wonderful setting of a
prose text from the Las Huelgas manuscript, depicts a moving scene set
under the Cross (also portrayed in the famous Stabat mater
sequence). Here, Mary experiences all the sufferings of her dying son:
she feels that she herself is nailed to the Cross, feels the thorns on
her own head, and suffers scorn, being spit on and flagellation. Her
pains are now compared to those spared her during the wondrous birth of
Jesus. The piece finishes with the announcement of the forthcoming joy
of resurrection.
Crux, de te volo conqueri by Philip the Chancellor is a dialogue
between the Virgin and the Cross. The Virgin “accuses the Cross
of robbing her of her ‘fruit’ and inflicting a shameful
death on one who did not merit such treatment” (1). The Cross
freely acknowledges adorning its branches with Mary’s flower (de
tuo flore fulgeo, de tuo fructu gaudeo) and, like her while
carrying the child in her womb, bearing sweet weight and possessing a
sweet fruit (dulce pondus sustineo, dulcem fructum possideo),
but for the salvation of the world, so that life should overcome death (ut
vita mortem superet). This explanation of Christ’s sacrifice
at the Cross is also found in a refrain of the rondellus A sinu
Patris mittitur saying: “The Saviour of the world dies, that
through His death He may crush death” (Mundi salvator moritur,
ut morte mortem conterat).
The motif of bearing sweet weight reappears in the 3-part motet, Cruci
Domini / Crux, forma penitencie / PORTARE. The tenor PORTARE
(“to bear”) uses a melisma from the Marian Alleluia.
Dulcis virgo dulcis mater for the Assumption of the Virgin Mary.
This chant, however, shares the same melody and almost the same text
(for the crucial melisma using the word SUSTINERE instead of PORTARE)
with Alleluia. Dulce lignum dulces clavos about the finding,
reception, and exaltation of the Cross, presenting once again the
parallel figures of the Virgin Mary bearing the child and the Cross
bearing Christ. Both texts of the upper voices of the motet praise the
honorable role of the Cross and its importance as the “key of
grace” and the only true path to Christian understanding.
Among the women accompanying the Virgin Mary beside the Cross we find
Christ’s beloved disciple, Mary Magdalene. The Easter sequence Surgit
Christus cum tropheo tells the story of the crucifixion from her
perspective. The piece starts in a narrative way introducing Easter
Day, but immediately turns to the grief of Mary Magdalene who does not
know of her Saviour’s resurrection. Asked again and again to tell
what she has seen at Calvary, she recollects her suffering while
witnessing Christ’s death and her despair at discovering that the
Saviour was not to be found in his grave. The questions Dic Maria
quid vidisti contemplando crucem Christi (“Say, Mary, what
did you see while you were contemplating Christ’s Cross?”)
and Dic Maria quid fecisti postquam Jesum amisisti (“Say,
Mary, what did you do after you lost Jesus?”), repeated over and
over again like a kind of a mantra, have an almost therapeutic quality.
They are an obvious allusion to Dic nobis Maria quid vidisti in via
(“Say, Mary, what did you see on your way?”) from the
famous sequence Victime paschali laudes, fragments of which
have been inserted in the following Surgit Christus cum tropheo.
Victime paschali laudes, here performed in the polyphonic
version from the Las Huelgas manuscript, closes with the scene where
the Lord’s resurrection is praised. The same moment of solemn joy
is taken up in the 3-part Las Huelgas conductus Resurgentis
praising the Saviour’s victory over death.
A much more naive portrayal of the day of the resurrection and the
ensuing events is presented in Adam novus, a short monophonic
song from the Officium peregrinorum (also known as The Play
of the Pilgrims to Emmaus). The angel is met by the women at the
grave and triumphantly announces the resur rection. The focus then
shifts to Emmaus, where the disciples see the pilgrim but do not
recognize him as the resurrected Christ. He appears in his proper form
while breaking the bread, shining with great light. The triumphant
victory over death is also the main theme of the rondellus Mors
vite propitia with its many allusions to Old Testament figures like
Joseph or Samson symbolizing Christ himself. Concluding with the
refrain: “on the Sunday once again [He] rose victorious”,
this simple piece expresses the purest joy and brings in the
“light that fully illuminates the cloud of sadness”.
THE PERFORMANCE
The manuscripts containing Notre Dame polyphony are generally quite
legible, thus, in most cases, we have used facsimile copies. This has
greatly influenced our interpretations, in particular the rhythmical
decisions in the conductus. In one-part conductus the unmeasured,
text-oriented rhetorical performance seemed obvious. In 2- and 3-part
pieces we have clearly differentiated between the melismatic fragments (sine
littera), performed according to the rules of modal notation, and
the text parts (cum littera), performed with free rhythm based
on word accents and the flow of speech. In the musically less complex
rondelli the situation was ambiguous, the choice of modal or free
performance made according to the rhythmic quality of the text itself.
The text edition by G. A. Anderson has been consulted in many cases (2).
Instrumental vielle pieces, all created by Baptiste Romain, were based
on some of the tunes from the recorded pieces (e.g. Estampie I
following Breves dies uses the latter’s musical material,
Estampie II anticipates the melody of Mors vite) and
constructed in a similar way to the few still existing instrumental
pieces from the late 13th century.
Agnieszka Budzińska-Bennett
translation: Lucas Bennett
