Bryd
one Brere
The
First English Love Song
c.
1300
Bird on a briar, bird on a briar, mankind has come of love, love to crave. Blissful bird, on me have pity, or build, love, build me my grave. I am so blithe, so blithe, bird on a briar, When I see that maid in the hall. She is white of limb, lovely, true, She is fair and the flower of all. Might her I have at my will, steadfast of love, lovely, and true, Of my sorrow she might me save, Joy and bliss were ever new to me.
Once upon a time, a bored English cleric flipped over a papal bull which was already a hundred years old and began to write down a song. That song today is recognized as being the oldest extant English love song.[1] Bryd one Brere is an honest confession of undying love (from the poet to a bird in a tree), devotion, and praise of a lady. It eloquently conveys the very heart of amor courtoise. Its soaring melody is one of the most beautiful melodies ever written, yet it conveys some element of bittersweetness.
There are between two and three hundred extant medieval English songs[2]. Of those songs, most of them are sacred or moralizing in nature. It cannot be ascertained whether these songs proportionally represent the original body of works. The songs which have survived have been collected by E.J. Dobson and F. Ll. Harrison in their 1979 book Medieval Songs.
"Bryd one Brere" dates from about 1290-1320[3]. This tune is unique…different from anything that was happening on the continent at the same time. It is possible that the jump of a sixth could be the result of clerical error, however, I find that to be the most beautiful part of the song.
Performance Practice:
English pronunciation has changed much since 1300.[4] Singers must commit to enjoying the period language. "The very act of inventing the ideas, grammatical units and sentences of a sung language can become second nature within the context of a given song"[5] Singers must "Develop one's own version of medieval English…Only when there is a natural correspondence between the emotional tone of the text and its physical representation in sound…can the language actually be said to be authentic in any way"[6]
Middle English pronunciation, while different from Modern English, is much easier. I am attempting the performance of a contemporary noble Londoner. Appendix 3 in the attached Dobson materials gives a good pronunciation guide.
Syllables must be appropriately accented in order to let the music flow well[7]
Vocal Style:
There are no extant treatises or statements about vocal production before the sixteenth century. However, Bel Canto is an invention of the late 17th century. I do not incorporate vibrato into my singing unless it is used as a dramatic device.
Certainly, a legato line sung without vibrato[8] is agreed upon, but the timbre is also questioned.
One of the few surviving commentaries upon performance practice is:
Psalmodia semper pari voce, aequa lance non nimis protrahatur, sed mediocri voce, non nimis velociter sed rotunde, virili, viva et succincta voce psallatur; syllabas, verba, metrum in medio et in finem versus, id est intium, medium et finem, simul incipiamus et pariter dimittamus.
(Let psalmody be sung with an always even voice, on an equal level, not dragged out too much, but moderately, not too quickly, but in a round, manly, lively, and succinct voice; let us begin and end the syllables, the words, the half-verse division and the end of the lines, that is, the beginning, middle and end, together.)[9]
Paul Hillier does not agree with the metronomic marking of this song.[10] I also believe this song should be sung freely, with the expression of the lyrics being much more important than the rhythm.
Accompaniment
I choose not to perform this song with accompaniment, however, Paul Hillier says that if the song is to be accompanied at all, it should be done heterophonically.[11]
Amor Courtoise:
Around the time of this composition, the life of the chivalry was being transformed. The French monarchy grew greatly in strength and forced the French nobles to live in relative peace. The lords were unable to pursue what had been their main activity: planning raids on other noble lords or defending their land and people from attack by the forces of other nobles. These knights regretted the lack of fighting and developed the tournament to fill their idle days.
The first tournament was no more than necessary war practice, but eventually it evolved into an idealistic multiple-day gala event which glorified fighting. Knights arrived in festive parades with their arms displayed on their surcoats, painted on their armor, draped over their horses, and carried before them on tall banner poles by their pages and squires. Holy men preached against the tournament, proclaiming the damnation of anyone who died as a result of injuries received during the fighting. Still, a knight fought to honor his lady, and she yearned to be the inspiration that would honor his love. [12]
Love was not an intended feature of marriage. However, if sinful adultery was discovered, it brought shame to the husband and to the wife. Ironically, the immorality of romancing and loving another man’s wife signified the love was being pursued only for the sake of love. Courtly love became an idealized melancholy: praising the graces of the one who cannot be had and wasting away for want of her.[13]
Bibliography
Brown,
Howard Mayer and Stanley Sadie, Eds. Performance
Practice: Volume 1.
Music before 1600. Norton:
New York. 1990.
Dobson,
Eric J. Medieval English Songs.
Faber, London, 1972
Donington,
Robert. The Interpretation of
Early Music. Norton, New York.
1989
Dorian,
Frederick. History of Music in
Performance. Norton.
New York. 1971
Duffin,
Ross W. A Performer's Guide to
Medieval Music. Indiana
University Press: Bloomington, IL. 2000
Hoppin,
Richard H. Medieval Music.
Norton: London. 1978
McGee,
Timothy. Medieval and Renaissance
Music, a Performer's Guide. Scolar
Press, Toronto, 1990
Sherman,
Bernard D. Inside Early Music:
Conversations with Performers. Oxford,
New York, 1997
Stevens,
Denis. A History of Song.
Norton: New York. 1960.
Taruskin,
Richard. Text and Act.
Essays on Music and Performance. Oxford:
New York. 1995.