Paris, 1200 – A time of almost unparalleled musical vibrancy and ambition… Now only echoes. Marginalia invites you to rewind the clock 800 years and to explore, in story and song, a world that has remained silent for too long.
Journey with us through the streets of a bustling university town, full of bright, ambitious scholars from all over Europe. Follow them over the bridge onto the Île de la Cité and into the towering new cathedral of Notre Dame. There let yourself be transported by some of the most mesmerising and intricate music of all time, and put yourself in the shoes of the exquisitely talented, yet forever nameless singers who created it.
Curator and Director – Dr Chloë Allison
with Toby Ward, Louis Watkins and Simon Grant.
More performance dates will be forthcoming, but for now you can enjoy some extracts below!
Chloë introduces her work on medieval Paris and this series of videos taken during the premier of ‘In the Shadow of Notre Dame in December 2021.
This motet has two texts, one in Latin, one in French. First is an exultation of the cross. It is the key of grace, the source of mercy, the means by which mankind is redeemed. The second text is about finding a shepherdess in an orchard, weeping for her lost beloved, Robin. This could be straightforwardly about a shepherdess with a broken heart, but when both texts are sung at the same time, something else is revealed. This weeping shepherdess could be an allegorical representation of the virgin Mary grieving at the foot of the cross, heart-broken at the loss of Jesus. In this way, the two sides of the cross are juxtaposed: a horrific loss, yet one that brings the hope of resurrection.
This is an extract of an piece that was very likely sung during the celebration of mass at Notre Dame cathedral on Christmas Day 1200. In Paris at this time, musicians came up with a brand new system of measured rhythm (beats that were a fixed distance apart). This new system allowed musicians to coordinate voices and sing music for more than two voices at once. This monumental piece, which lasts over twelve minutes in its entirety, is for four singers. It’s a mosaic of overlapping melodies that would have accompanied a period of meditation during the service.
In this motet, one lover sings of winter, when the flowers die and the birds fall silent. At this time, it is impossible to love. The other sings of the spring, when greenery returns but happiness does not return with it. He is all-consumed by the pursuit of love, but it brings nothing but emptiness and a desire to hide away from the world. There seems to be no escape for either of them, except perhaps in the lowest voice which is singing ‘Flos filius eius’ from the chant Stirps Jesse V. Virgo dei genetrix. The text of that chant speaks of the fall of Lebanon and the fact that the shoot of Jesse rises from that destruction, becoming the tree of Jesse, Christ’s ancestral line. This is not just the rebirth associated with the cycle of the seasons. This is the birth of a new order, a new age of grace, which allows humankind, through Christs death and resurrection, an escape from death. It is here that our lovers can find some hope for an escape from their otherwise endless sorrow.
A beautifully haunting chanson (a strophic poem sung to a repeating melody, created by courtly poet-musician) which expresses the torment of saying farewell to a beloved, without knowing if you will ever see them again. At the end, as was customary, the singer turns to the song itself, and asks it to carry their message to their beloved faithfully. Many thanks to Professor Emma Dillon for introducing Chloë to this chanson, when Chloë sang for her paper at the International Medieval Congress in 2019. The translation is Professor Dillon’s.