A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Polyphonia
POLYPHONIA (Eng. Polyphony, from the Gr. πολὺς, many, φονὴ, a voice). A term applied, by modern Musical Historians, to a certain species of unaccompanied Vocal Music, in which each Voice is made to sing a Melody of its own; the various Parts being bound together, in obedience to the laws of Counterpoint, into an harmonious whole, wherein it is impossible to decide which Voice has the most important task allotted to it, since all are equally necessary to the general effect. It is in this well-balanced equality of the several Parts that Polyphonia differs from Monodia; in which the Melody is given to one Part only, while supplementary Voices and Instruments are simply used to fill up the Harmony. [See Monodia.]
The development of Polyphony from the first rude attempts at Diaphonia, Discant, or Organum, described by Franco of Cologne, Guido d'Arezzo, and others, was so perfectly natural, that, notwithstanding the slowness of its progress, we can scarcely regard the results it eventually attained in any other light than that of an inevitable consequence. The first quest of the Musicians who invented 'Part-Singing' was, some method of making a Second Voice sing notes which, though not identical with those of the Canto fermo, would at least be harmonious with them. While searching for this, they discovered the use of one Interval after another, and employed their increased knowledge to so good purpose, that, before long, they were able to assign to the Second Voice a totally independent Part. It is true, that, to our ears, the greater number of their progressions are intolerable; less, however, because they mistook the character of the Intervals they employed, than because they did not at first understand the proper method of using them in succession. They learned this in course of time; and, discarding their primitive Sequences of Fifths and Fourths, attained at last the power of bringing two Voice parts into really harmonious relation with each other. The rate of their progress may be judged by the two following examples, the first of which is from a MS. of the end of the 11th or beginning of the 12th century, in the Ambrosian Collection at Milan; and the second, from one of the 14th, in the Paris Library.
11th or 12th cent.
Now, in both these cases, the two Parts are equally melodious. There are no long chains of reiterated notes, merely introduced, as Guido would have introduced them, for the purpose of supporting the Melody upon a Pedal-Point: but, each Part has its own work to do; and it cannot fairly be said that one is more important than the other. [See Organum.] Equal care was taken to preserve an absolutely independent Melody, in each several Part, when, at a later period, Composers attempted the production of Motets, and other similar works, in three and four Parts. We find no less pains bestowed upon the Melody of the Triplum,[1] in such cases, than upon that of the Tenor, or Motetus; and very rarely indeed does the one exhibit more traces of archaic stiffness than the other. The following example from a Mass composed by Guillaume de Machault for the Coronation of Charles V, in the year 1364, shews a remarkable freedom of Melody—for the time--in all the Parts.
Rude as this is, it manifests a laudable desire for the attainment of that melodious motion of the separate Parts, which, not long after the death of its Composer, became the distinguishing characteristic of mediæval Music. With all their stiffness, and strange predilection for combinations now condemned as intolerable, we cannot but see that the older writers did their best to provide every Singer with an interesting Part. Nevertheless, true Polyphony, was not yet invented. For that, it was necessary, not only that every Voice should sing a melodious strain; but, that each should take its share in the elucidation of one single idea, not singing for itself alone, but answering its fellow Voices, and commenting, as it were, upon the passages sung by them. In other words, it was necessary that every voice should take up a given Subject, and assist in developing it into a Fugue, or Canon, or other kind of composition for which it might be best suited. This was the one great end and aim of true Polyphony; and, for the practical realisation of the idea, we are undoubtedly indebted to the Great Masters of the early Flemish School, to whose ingenuity we owe the invention of some of the most attractive forms of Imitation and Fugal Device on record. The following quotation from a 'Chanson à trois voix' by one of the earliest of them, Antonius Busnois, who is known to have been employed as a Singer in the Chapel of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, in the year 1467, will serve to shew the enormous strides that Art was making in the right direction.
Here we see a regular Subject started by the Tenor, and answered by the Triplum, note for note, with a clearness which at once shews the unity of the Composer's design. When this stage was reached the Polyphonic School may be said to have been fairly established; and it only remained to bring out its resources by aid of the genius of the great writers who practised it. The list of these Masters is a long one; but certain names stand out before all others, as borne by men whose labours have left an indelible impression upon the Schools to which they belonged. Of these men, Guillaume Dufay was one, and Ockenheim another; but the greatest genius of the 15th century was undoubtedly Josquin des Prés, the ingenuity of whose contrupuntal devices has never been exceeded. Uberto Waelrant, Jacques Archadelt, and Adrian Willaert, wrote in simpler form, but bequeathed to their successors an amount of delicate expression which was turned to excellent account by their scholars in Italy. Their gentler fervour was eagerly caught up by Costanzo Festa, Giovanni Croce, Luca Marenzio, and a host of others whose talents were scarcely inferior to theirs; while, facile princeps, Palestrina rose above them all, and clothed Polyphony with a beauty so inimitable, that his name has been bestowed upon the School as freely as if he had lived in the 15th century to inaugurate it.
A careful study of the works of this great writer will shew that, when regarded from a purely technical point of view, their greatest merit lies in the strictness with which the Polyphonic principle has been carried out, in their development. Of course, their real excellence lies in the genius which dictated them: but, setting this aside, and examining merely their mechanical structure, we find, not only that every Part is necessary to the well-being of the whole, but, that it is absolutely impossible to say in which Part the chief interest of the Composition is concentrated. In this respect, Palestrina has carried out, to their legitimate conclusion, the principles we laid down in the beginning of our article, as those upon which the very existence of Polyphony depended. It would seem impossible that Art could go beyond this; and, in this particular direction, it never has gone beyond it. It is impossible, now, even to guess what would have happened had the Polyphonic School been cultivated, in the 17th century, with the zeal which was brought to bear upon it in the 16th. That it was not so cultivated is a miserable fact which can never be sufficiently deplored. Palestrina died in 1594; and, as early as the year 1600, his work was forgotten, and its greatest triumphs contemned as puerilities. Monteverde sapped the foundations of the School by his contempt for contrapuntal laws. Instrumental Accompaniment was substituted for the ingenuity of pure vocal writing. The Choir was sacrificed to the Stage. And, before many years had passed, the Polyphonic School was known no more, and Monodia reigned triumphant. Happily, the laws to which Palestrina yielded his willing obedience, and 'to the action of which his Music owes so much of its outward and technical value, are as well understood now as in the days in which he practised them. There is, therefore, no reason why the practice of the purest Polyphony should not, some day, be revived among us. We see but little promise of such a consummation at the present moment; but it is something to know that it is not impossible.[ W. S. R. ]
- ↑ That is, the Third Part—whence our English word, Treble. The Fourth Part was sometimes called Quadruplum, and the Fifth. Quincuplum. The principal part, containing the Canto fermo, was sometimes called Tenor, and sometimes Motetus. The term Contratenor was applied to the part which lay nearest the Tenor, whether immediately above, immediately below, or exactly of equal compass with it. This part was also frequently called Medius.