Thomas, You mention playing the music of the Regia Pietas, and you say you hadn't thought of them as songs but instrumental works. I confess that I often use the word song when referring to a piece of instrumental music, and do so by choice. In some languages the word song is synonymous with story or poem. We refer to the "songs" of Homer, but have no suggestion that he made melody. And there is some thought that the earliest instruments were background to the spoken song, whose melody was in the meter and sound of the language.
With all due deference to those who have suggested that I don't know music I confess that I don't, if music is defined as a particular era and style and instrument. But I make claim to knowing what a song is, a song is a paean to that which is in us and reacts to the combination of thought and emotion. Whether it is a poem well spoken (and perhaps with a bit of tetrachordal string behind it setting the tone), or an orchestral arrangement with many voices, it is yet a song. In an orchestral setting it is the conductor who calls together the varying parts into a coherant song. With the individual on a lute, a harp or a trumpet it is the subtle voice that makes a bunch of notes into a song. When I lead my harp ensemble I ask them to hear the song, even if it is a three part motet with no words. Sorry, I got a bit esoteric. Perhaps my use of the word song is a bit different than some other vocabularies, but it is the way I learned from the best musician I've ever known. Skip Helms was the organist, and choirmaster, in my local church when I joined the choir in 1945 at age ten. We practiced making music, and vocal exercises, and sight reading and intervals twice a week, for two hours - and we were professionals, although we didn't know it. We got twenty-five cents for each of those practices, and fifty cents for the Sunday service (which involved more exercise an hour before service). The anthem of the day was put in our hands a few minutes before the service, we were supposed to be able to sing it from the notation, and sing it as a song. Guess what, we did! And often travelled to do it for others. I always remember a demonstration Skip made ( he used "Lo how a Rose e'er Blooming" as an exercise to demonstrate dynamics - an awfully boring song that is almost a chant). He told us of being accused of playing too slow on the organ at a previous parish (and I know the story is apochryphal). The following week he played at the same tempo with more dymamics and the parish said "that's what we meant". Take the Brandenburgs, or some of Vivaldi. Very strict in pattern, but if you play them as just a bunch of notes with a time value to each then you won't be playing the song that is within them. The song is the totality of the music, the melody is only a part of it. The carol is the words, and they are also a part. Music is an extension of song and story into a series of different pitches and timbres in the differing voices of the several instruments, but the instrumentalists have to make those technical sounds into music. And that is song. Best, Jon > Dear Ariel, > > a while ago I played some of the music (together with a prelude) at > church services (one pastor even devoted the complete service to the > lute and it's role in the bible). > I never looked at them as songs (although the original melody of the > carol shines through and Vallet seems to mark the melody at places with > stars *) but rather as instrumental works comparable maybe to Sweelink. > > I used to like this kind of music. It's contemplative and fits perfectly > the lute.
