At the very end of the 12th century and in the early years of the 13th century the Western world took a giant leap forward in the development of so many of the fields of human achievement.  In the arts and sciences, in religion and education, in law and politics, these were exciting times when foundations were laid for the establishment of many aspects of society that can be traced right through to the present day.  The main focus of the creative activity was to be found in France and, more specifically, the city of Paris.

Paris in these years acted like a magnet to the hungry minds of aspiring intellectuals from all over Europe, many but not all of whom were members of holy orders.  Their goal was the newly formed university of Paris, rivaled at this time only by the university in Bologna.  It was in Paris, though, that the pre-eminent teachers of the day congregated, following the lead of Peter Abelard, the first teacher to attract large crowds of students from all over Europe.  In the ensuing years Abelard was followed by, amongst others, Roger Bacon, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Meister Eckhart.
 

Through the writings of Anonymous IV we learn of the variety of music sung in daily services, the names of the great composers Leonin and Perotin, and that their style of music had already formed the mainstay of the cathedral repertoire for the best part of a hundred years.  Yet he also tells us that Notre Dame polyphony had a much wider currency than its name would imply, suggesting an active academic “export trade.”  Traces of cultivation of the music, in manuscripts ranging from superbly decorated books owned by Medieval and Renaissance potentates to tiny scraps of parchment that have survived for 800 years by nothing more than accident, are found all over Europe: from Poland to Spain, and from Rome to St. Andrews in Scotland.  Moreover, Anonymous IV names specific singers who were masters of their art, giving rise to the probability that this repertoire would have been well-known in abbeys and cathedrals throughout England, Wales, and Scotland.

Indeed, while precise information does not exist, there is every reason to suppose that polyphonic music flourished in St. David’s from the earliest years of the cathedral.  The present building was begun in 1181-82 (coinciding with the period of construction of Notre Dame), and as early as 1188 Gerald of Wales wrote of the skill of Welsh singing in parts “in many modes and modulations.”  Indeed, he comments on how the skilled singers of the northern parts of England perform beautiful music in two parts, but the Welsh surpass this with “as many different parts and voices as there are performers.”  For these talented musicians one can imagine that the new, complex French repertoire would have presented very few difficulties.

Anonymous IV tells us about two of the most important composers of the fifty years either side of 1200:  Leonin and Perotin.  Leonin, we are told, wrote a cycle of two-part settings of the most important chants of the liturgical year — Christmas, Easter, Assumption and so on; this cycle was called the Magnus liber organi — the “great book of organum.”  In this program, we hear a Matins responsory for Easter, Et valde mane, and the Alleluia for Assumption, Assumpta est Maria.

The last years of the 12th century represented a period of careful recasting and elaboration of the Magnus liber organi, and Perotin played an important role in this process.  According to the monk from Bury St. Edmunds, he either shortened or edited (interpretations vary) Leonin’s great book of organum; long sections of almost improvisatory scope were rewritten according to the tighter principles of discant (polyphonic) composition that Perotin himself may have contributed to codify.  Perhaps more importantly, he set in motion the idea that settings of plainsong did not have to be in two parts.  Greater rhythmic precision enabled the more complex coordination of three-part settings; such works as Christus resurgens and Alleluia v. Posui adiutorium were the result.  Perotin’s greatest fame rests on two works from the last decade of the twelfth century, settings of the graduals for Christmas and St. Stephen in four parts, Viderunt omnes and Sederunt principes. These works were quite possibly first performed respectively in 1198 and 1199 and represent the best guesses we have about the chronology of the works of Perotin and Leonin.

Although it is not possible to know exactly how the pieces would have sounded (there are no helpful metronome markings or live recordings available!), research has revealed something about the circumstances of the performances.  The music itself would have been sung by two different groups, plainsong singers and polyphony singers.  The number of plainsong singers would have varied according to the importance of the service; on major feast days everybody from the religious institution would have been expected to participate and as many as fifty or sixty people may have been involved.  The polyphony, however, was the preserve of soloists and the complexity and demands of the music suggests they must have been exceptionally skillful.

The Orlando Consort contrasts this Parisian centrality with a number of earlier 12th century works — pieces that were almost certainly performed well into the 13th century.  These include two Aquitanian versus: Gaude virgo, and Vellus rore.  Not only do these works stem from a different geographical area, but they are also pieces that do not depend on a pre-existing plainsong in the same way as do the so-called Notre Dame organa.  Other pieces in the program, Verbum patris humanatur and Orientis partibus take us even farther from Paris; they were certainly known in England and may have even been composed there.

By any standards, Perotin was an extraordinary composer.  He wrote and revised organa in two to four parts, but also contributed to Notre Dame’s answer to the versus: the conductus.  Like the versus, the conductus was a newly-composed setting of a non-liturgical text in Latin; unlike the versus, it could be composed in anything from one to four parts.  Perotin’s Beata viscera is a magnificent example of what the monk from Bury St. Edmunds called a conductus simplex — a piece in one part only.