And the last installment (for now) of our Name That Tune series! If you need to catch up:
Part 1 - Carmans Whistle (and how the series started)
Part 2 - Nottingham Ale (with my friends in Seven Times Salt)
Part 3 - Minuet from Overture in G major, TWV 32:13
Kudos to Alastair Thompson for his identification of this one! Read more below about harpsichordist and composer Jacques Champion de Champonnières, and then have a listen to the two different ways his tune was used!
Jacques Champion de Chambonnières (Jacques Champion, commonly referred to as Chambonnières) (c. 1601/2 – 1672) was a French harpsichordist, dancer and composer. Born into a musical family, Chambonnières made an illustrious career as court harpsichordist in Paris and was considered by many of his contemporaries to be one of the greatest musicians in Europe. However, late in life Chambonnières gradually fell out of favor at the court and lost his position. He died in poverty, but at an advanced age, and not before publishing a number of his works. Today Chambonnières is considered one of the greatest representatives of the early French harpsichord school.
Chambonnières was born in Paris, most probably in 1601 or 1602. Very little information survives concerning his childhood and early youth. The Champion family included many musicians, most notably Thomas Champion (also known as Mithou; not to be confused with his English namesake), Chambonnières's grandfather, whom Marin Mersenne described as "the greatest contrapuntist of his time." Chambonnières's father, also named Jacques, was also a keyboard player and a composer. Although he was not as highly regarded as Thomas, Mersenne still praised his keyboard skills, and John Bull dedicated a work to him. The title Chambonnières originally belonged to Chambonnières's maternal grandfather: it was the name of a small manor in the commune of Le Plessis-Feu-Aussoux. Chambonnières must have received early music lessons from his father, but apart from that nothing is known about the young harpsichordist's education. What is known, however, is that Chambonnières was for a long time the only child of an aging father—Jacques Champion was around 50 when Chambonnières was born—and received much attention.[1]
Already by 1611 Chambonnières must have been showing considerable musical talents, for in September of that year he received the reversion of his father's court position. Some ten years later, about 1621/22, Chambonnières married his first wife Marie Leclerc. He continued receiving generous financial support from his father until some time in the mid-1620s, when Jacques Champion's wife unexpectedly gave birth to two more children: a daughter (Louise) and another son (Nicolas, or Jehan-Nicolas). Jacques, apparently mindful of both the diminishing family fortune and his elder son's selfish character, sought to distribute the remaining money and resources in a fair manner. In 1631 he completed and signed a document that has since became one of the most important sources of biographical information on the Champion family: a déclaration which detailed family circumstances and, among other things, ordered Chambonnières to pay 3000 livres to his mother, brother and sister as a repayment for the court position and other benefits provided to him by his father.[1]
Jacques Champion de Chambonnières ( Jacques Champion, commonly referred to as Chambonnières) (c. 1601/2 - 1672) was a French harpsichordist, dancer and composer. Born into a musical family, Chambonnières made an illustrious career as court harpsichordist in Paris and was considered by many of his contemporaries to be one of the greatest musicians in Europe.
When you think of madrigals, which composers come to mind? Monteverdi? Gesualdo? What about Maddalena Casulana?
Back to our Name That Tune series! If you missed the last two:
Part 1 - Carmans Whistle (and how the series started)
Part 2 - Nottingham Ale (with my friends in Seven Times Salt)
This week, Telemann’s Minuet from Overture in G major, TWV 32:13
Telemann was a friend of both Bach and Handel, and was incredibly prolific. Read more about Telemann below and then have a listen to the two videos!
Georg Philipp Telemann (24 March [O.S. 14 March] 1681 – 25 June 1767) (German pronunciation: [ˈteːləman]) was a German Baroque composer and multi-instrumentalist. Almost completely self-taught in music, he became a composer against his family's wishes. After studying in Magdeburg, Zellerfeld, and Hildesheim, Telemann entered the University of Leipzig to study law, but eventually settled on a career in music. He held important positions in Leipzig, Sorau, Eisenach, and Frankfurt before settling in Hamburg in 1721, where he became musical director of that city's five main churches. While Telemann's career prospered, his personal life was always troubled: his first wife died less than two years after their marriage, and his second wife had extramarital affairs and accumulated a large gambling debt before leaving him.
Telemann is one of the most prolific composers in history[1] (at least in terms of surviving oeuvre)[2] and was considered by his contemporaries to be one of the leading German composers of the time—he was compared favorably both to his friend Johann Sebastian Bach, who made Telemann the godfather and namesake of his son Carl Philipp Emanuel, and to George Frideric Handel, whom Telemann also knew personally. As part of his duties, he wrote a considerable amount of music for educating organists under his direction. This includes 48 chorale preludes and 20 small fugues (modal fugues) to accompany his chorale harmonizations for 500 hymns. His music incorporates French, Italian, and German national styles, and he was at times even influenced by Polish popular music. He remained at the forefront of all new musical tendencies, and his music stands as an important link between the late Baroque and early Classical styles. The Telemann Museum in Hamburg is dedicated to him.
Georg Philipp Telemann (24 March [ O.S. 14 March] 1681 - 25 June 1767) ( German pronunciation: ) was a German Baroque composer and multi-instrumentalist. Almost completely self-taught in music, he became a composer against his family's wishes. After studying in Magdeburg, Zellerfeld, and Hildesheim, Telemann entered the University of Leipzig to study law, but eventually settled on a career in music.
Diminutions, divisions, passaggi, glosas… Let’s talk about ornamentation in the 1500s!
Or even better, here’s Early Music Sources to teach us all about it:
Expert swordsman, phenomenal violinist, Marie Antoinette's music teacher, leader during the French Revolution, inspiration for Alexandre Dumas... meet Joseph Bologne, Le Chevalier de Saint-Georges
This week Early Music Monday explores how Machaut survived the plague (and what we can learn from his experience). In the meantime, please remember that musicians (among others) are unemployed right now. The more you do your part to slow the spread of Covid-19, the sooner musicians can go back to work. Probably Machaut's solution is a little extreme...
On this Early Music Monday, meet Vicente Lusitano - a Portuguese composer/theorist who won a debate with Vicentino but suffered major repercussions for it, became a Catholic priest and then converted to Protestantism, and also wrote some really cool music.
Vicente Lusitano (died after 1561) was a Portuguese music composer and theorist of African descent[1] of the late Renaissance.
He was born in Olivença, but little else is known for certain of his life, including the dates of his birth and death. Some information is recorded in the 18th century biography by Diogo Barbosa Machado: he came from Olivença, became a priest, and was employed as a teacher both at Padua and Viterbo. Very little of what Machado wrote about him has been verified by any other source, except the date of publication (1561) of a music theory treatise at Venice.
As a composer he wrote a number of choral works, including motets and a madrigal, but he is better known by far for his work as a theorist. In a 1551 debate in Rome, he espoused traditional views on the role of the three genera in music (diatonic, chromatic and enharmonic) over more radical ones put forward by Nicola Vicentino (Lusitano was deemed to have won the debate). His Introdutione facilissima et novissima de canto fermo (Rome, 1553, and again at Venice, 1561), contains an introduction to music, a section on improvised counterpoint, and his views on the three genera.
Vicente Lusitano (died after 1561) was a Portuguese music composer and theorist of African descent of the late Renaissance. He was born in Olivença, but little else is known for certain of his life, including the dates of his birth and death.
This week for Early Music Monday, a video from our friends at Early Music Sources on reading from part books - what are the benefits and what are the challenges?
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.
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)!
