Musicologists have long struggled with the cultural context of fifteenth-century polyphonic settings of the mass. Liturgical occasion, ritual significance, performance forces and reception are among the most significant aspects of cultural context, yet these details frequently prove the most perplexing. Questions also surround the use of a cantus firmus, a preexisting melody deployed in one voice throughout the five movements of the mass, and the meaning behind the choice of such a melody. As the first book-length study devoted solely to this topic, Andrew Kirkman's The cultural life of the early polyphonic mass is an impressive feat especially given the contradictory nature of much modern scholarship and the dearth of contemporary evidence. Kirkman's book is praiseworthy for its breadth of perspective: the author situates music with respect to the ritual nature of the mass, interactions between sacred and secular culture, and its later reception.
The volume is divided into three parts, the first of which (chapters i, ii) serves as an amplification of the author's 2001 article, ‘The invention of the cyclic mass’. Chapter i provides insight into the reception of the polyphonic mass during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, focusing in particular on texts that valorise the autonomous nature of cyclic masses, which by definition employ the same cantus firmus throughout the five movements of the Ordinary. Kirkman posits that the desire to separate the mass from its liturgical context and to view it as an unadulterated musical utterance has resulted in a contemporary disregard for its cultural context. Chapter ii argues that in contrast to its modern reception, the polyphonic mass was originally celebrated not for its unity but for its diversity or varietas; moreover there is no evidence to suggest that cyclic masses were glorified any more than settings based on heterogeneous musical material.
Kirkman employs the term ‘musical particularisation’ throughout part ii (chapters iii–vi) to describe the mechanism by which borrowed melodies and occasionally texts contribute to the construction of meaning. In chapter iii, borrowed secular melodies are situated within the broader context of interactions between sacred and secular culture; here quotations from Aquinas attesting to the importance of allegory as a means of explaining spiritual ideas are particularly elucidating. As Kirkman explains, cantus firmi drawn from courtly love songs such as De tous biens plaine or Comme femme desconfortée permit a metaphorical veneration of the Virgin within the context of the mass. The author suggests that while in many cases the connection between mass and preexisting material may be generic in nature, the potential for a symbolic relationship increases when borrowed melodies are recalled in a sporadic or fragmentary manner. For example, in the Benedictus of an anonymous mass based on Guillaume Du Fay's Le Serviteur, a two-voice passage quotes a phrase from the original song corresponding to the text ‘D'ung tout seul mot bien ordonné’. Noting this musical similarity, Kirkman proceeds to uncover a textual association: ‘With this choice, which seems unlikely to be fortuitous, the well-placed word of the song is thus made to coincide with the presence of the ultimate well-placed word – that being simultaneously made flesh in the elevation’ (p. 55). Though Kirkman is right to assert that many instances of similarity between mass and preexisting musical material may be fortuitous, he also maintains that quotation need not be obvious in order to be present and therefore meaningful. This poses a significant problem for modern scholars, however, as there is no rubric with which to measure quotations or apparent quotations, and furthermore no written evidence of the intention behind such devices. As this chapter lays the foundation for the following two, a fuller explication of musical meaning as it pertains to fifteenth-century masses would have been helpful.
In chapters iv and v Kirkman investigates the cultural origins and symbolic resonances of the Caput and L'Homme armé mass traditions, respectively. The former is based on a melisma drawn from the word ‘caput’ at the end of the antiphon ‘Venit ad petrum’, the latter on a famous secular song. Various contexts have been proposed for these two mass traditions, as have various candidates for the ‘head’ and ‘armed man’ described in the texts of the borrowed melodies. Following Craig Wright's hypothesis, Kirkman argues that both the ‘armed man’ and ‘head’ originally referred to Christ himself. With respect to the Caput masses he proposes that religious as well as political leaders such as popes, mayors or kings could have capitalised on Christ's role as ‘head’ when invoking their own political and religious power. He also situates the L'Homme armé tradition within the context of contemporary mass commentaries that testify to the martial nature of the late medieval mass. While earlier scholarship has tended to support one hypothesis over another, thus implying a singular cultural sphere for each mass tradition, Kirkman's argument allows for a more pluralistic understanding of the Caput and L'Homme armé traditions.
Masses based on preexisting material pose the question of whether the texts of such melodies were sung simultaneously with the Mass Ordinary text. Noting several sources that preserve both, Kirkman suggests in chapter vi that the practice of singing the Mass Ordinary text simultaneously with that of the borrowed material may have been more common than has heretofore been accepted. Furthermore, the so-called Trémouïlle manuscript, presumably used in Burgundian mass celebrations, contains not only masses and motets but also secular songs, thus suggesting that secular music may in fact have been performed during mass. This final point underscores one of the central, if somewhat understated themes of part ii: the fluidity and interdependence of sacred and secular culture in the late Middle Ages.
In chapter vii (part iii) Kirkman describes how the Mass Ordinary became a distinct and independently organised entity, both through its physical existence in Kyriales and the increasingly common practice of combining independent chants into unified ‘cycles.’ In the final chapter, Kirkman situates the polyphonic mass within the physical context of the church, showing how the elevation of the host was emphasised through visual as well as musical means. For example, a dark cloth was often placed over the reredos so as to accentuate the whiteness of the Communion wafer, while aurally the elevation could be signalled by a bell or an independent (‘substitution’) motet. This chapter succeeds in revealing yet another dimension of the early polyphonic mass; indeed, one of the most fulfilling aspects of The cultural life of the early polyphonic mass is its multifaceted approach and use of diverse angles and sources.
