Early Music - a mirror on our own times

I rarely write in defense of classical music (and Early Music specifically) since I assume if you’re reading my posts, you don’t need to hear that. But I do talk frequently about context - the context in which a piece was composed, in which a composer lived, in which a work was premiered, etc. There’s another aspect of context I’ve mentioned before as well - the societal structures of those times. It’s easy to look at a post like the one about Marais’ horrifying surgery from a few weeks ago and feel a sense of superiority at how far medical knowledge has come since then (and aren’t we grateful!).

But sometimes when we make the comparison to our own times, we see that there hasn't been much improvement. Just to take our good friend J.S. Bach as an example:
- musicians had periods of stable and unstable employment, depending on the whims of their (rich, spoiled, out of touch) patrons
- payment was equally equivocal - sometimes it happened and sometimes not
- the demands of the job sometimes exceeded the salary offered
- “This includes an educational component??”
- “I have this great idea, but I don't have the funds or the right performers to make it happen.”
- while on the road for a gig, major personal tragedy occurs

Not so different from today, no?

And then there are the issues of elitism. At the very highest levels, the composers and performers in the historical record are overwhelmingly white men. History is written by the winners, so on some level, this is an understandable outcome. As a woman, I have the most familiarity with the forces that historically kept many women out of the history of music - here is a sampling:
- education (including in music) was a privilege only extended to a select few
- even for those who became skilled, private performance was preferred to public performance (society viewed musicians/theater workers/sex workers with the same disdain)
- in order to receive any kind of attention, a woman would have to be inordinately skilled AND attract the attention of a man who would forward her career without co-opting her work as his own.
- women were forbidden in the arenas of sacred music entirely
- the pressures and expectations society placed on women to marry and raise children conspired to both steal the time and focus away from women’s achievements

Some of these things have improved in the 21st century, but many of them are still forces to be reckoned with. I’m happy to report that (pandemic-time excluded), I have a wonderful church job and enjoy performing publicly. But 99% of the conductors and administrators I work for are men. My observation is that educational opportunities are now more divided by economic privilege rather than gender, but those forces are still at work. At the highest levels of performing in the classical music world (and with certain instruments), it’s still a male-dominated world.

In some cases, organizations are understanding when women take time to have a child - they are able to return to their careers without significant issues. But the load of a non-traditional schedule, being on the road for gigs, securing childcare, and perhaps not being offered work because “Oh, well they have a kid”… these are still very real issues (compounded in many cases by the issues of low pay). And I should also mention that organizations are not always as understanding as that. Women still lose work simply for being pregnant. In some cases, the time off that women need to recover means that they are no longer at the top of a conductor/administrator’s mind, which means they stop being hired.

And for how society views women? One need only think of the awards shows in Hollywood or most any concert review. How much time is spent talking about the skill and achievement of women, and how much time is devoted to what they’re wearing and how they’ve done their hair? Truly, when was the last time a concert review discussed the attire of a male performer?

And that brings us to issues of race. Again, history is written by the winners, and white men are the dominant species. A similar but even more expansive host of prejudices and cultural attitudes kept BIPOC individuals out of the public sphere and the historical record. But those composers, performers, etc. ARE THERE. There’s an oft-cited phrase, “Anonymous was a woman” that I would expand to be “Anonymous was whoever society refused to acknowledge”. And many took the work of talented others and passed it off as their own.

I’m a performer, not a sociologist (or any of the other relevant -ologists). My ability to speak to this is limited, and bluntly, white voices like mine (especially the well-meaning ones) frequently drown out those of people telling their own stories. I exhort you to listen to the stories of Black performers. Listen to the stories of Latinx and mixed-race performers. Seek out their work, buy their CDs, come to their concerts. I have tremendously talented (and patient and tenacious) colleagues who not only fight against the usual struggles of musicians to succeed, but also for their right to even be in the game. Their experiences and journeys make mine look easy (and I assure you, it hasn't been). Look for organizations to support who have a mix of people on stage (and in administration). We only move forward if we all move forward together.

Don’t give up on Early Music. Use it as a mirror. If the same cringe-worthy circumstances and practices are still in force today, then FIX THEM. And for the historical content, just view it as the tip of the iceberg. Imagine what other incredible treasures are out there and be honest about what has kept them from being known. Early Music Monday has been overwhelmingly white and male, partially because that’s the easiest material to get my hands on, but also because I haven't been trying hard enough. The new archive makes it obvious for me what topics need more attention, and I’ll be working in the coming weeks to fill those in. My love of Byrd and Lassus (and Schütz and ….) remains, and there will still be content that includes them. But our “diet” will hopefully move toward something a little more well-rounded going forward.

A History of Black Classical Music

This week's Early Music Monday is an excellent series from the BBC on Black Classical Music. Of course it mentions John Blanke and Ignatio Sancho, but it goes much further than that! The first episode will only be up for a limited time, so make sure to catch at least that one today (and then go explore more from these fantastic composers)!

A History of Black Classical Music

Name that (early music) tune, part 2 - Nottingham Ale/Lillibulero

Back to Name That Tune this week! This is the tune that started it all! Read more about it below, and then have a listen to the versions from the video game and then from my friends in Seven Times Salt (who included it on their “Courtiers and Costermongers” CD)!

"Lillibullero" (also spelled Lillibulero, Lilliburlero[1]) is a march that became popular in England at the time of the Glorious Revolution of 1688.

According to the BBC, it "started life as a jig with Irish roots, whose first appearance seems to be in a collection published in London in 1661 entitled 'An Antidote Against Melancholy', where it is set to the words 'There was an old man of Waltham Cross'."[2]

" Lillibullero" (also spelled Lillibulero, Lilliburlero) is a march that became popular in England at the time of the Glorious Revolution of 1688. According to the BBC, it "started life as a jig with Irish roots, whose first appearance seems to be in a collection published in London in 1661 entitled 'An Antidote Against Melancholy', where it is set to the words 'There was an old man of Waltham Cross'."

Samples of our most recent album, released April 2017

Name that (early music) tune, part 1 - Carmans Whistle

In the mid-90s, I spent a good chunk of time playing a computer game called Logic Quest. It was all puzzles and mazes, knights and castles, and I loved it. Except… in retrospect I may have loved the music more than the game.

Fast-forward 20 years or so, and I was sitting in the audience for a concert by my friends in Seven Times Salt. Imagine my surprise when they begin playing one of the tunes that I knew from the game! So this got me thinking that if one of the songs from the game was a legitimate piece of early music, perhaps some of the other ones were as well!

Now that pretty much the rest of my season has been canceled due to the pandemic, I’ve had some time to research these pieces. With the help of my good friends Alastair Thompson and Daniel Meyers, I’ve started a new (Logic) quest to identify all 7 of the main themes. It turns out that whoever designed the music for this game was definitely into early music!

Here’s installment one: first the version from the game, and then the actual tune - Carmans Whistle, as set by William Byrd in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book!

Gradualia

Most of my favorite pieces by William Byrd are taken from his two collections entitled “Gradualia" - music written for private performance in a devotional setting rather than for large audiences in a concert hall. Seems rather fitting to explore these pieces again now, when live concerts for large audiences are almost unthinkable. Read more below about this incredible collection of music and the circumstances in which it was composed!

Singing in secret: how William Byrd created his best work in isolation

New Early Music Monday Index!

After 2.5 years, we finally have a searchable index! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and the cancellations because of Coronavirus finally provided me with enough time (and in-house tech support) to make it happen!

On the right side of the Writing/Research page, you’ll find a link to the Early Music Monday Index, which keeps a tally of how many posts in each major category as well as a listing of tags by category to make it easier to find topics or people or whatever your heart desires (that it can find here).

It also revealed some conspicuous absences, which I will be working to remedy going forward!