Program: #17-03 Air Date: Jan 09, 2017
Arthurian medieval music, the latest from the Gothic Voices, and love songs of the Chansonnier Cordiform (“Shaped like a Heart”)
I. Mary Star of the Sea (Gothic Voices). Linn CDCKD 541.
Pieces from contemporary composers Joanne Metcalf and Andrew Smith sit alongside settings of Marian texts from the 13th and 14th centuries. Notably, there is a rare setting of English biblical text which precedes the first publication of an English language bible by 150 years.
Mary in her various guises - caring mother, virgin lover, guiding light - are explored through settings of ancient ritualistic texts showing her mythical and human aspects, whilst contemporary settings relate the themes to the modern day. The contemporary works are cleverly constructed around a modal core so that they fit perfectly with the structure and sound of the early music compositions.
With over thirty years experience Gothic Voices' complete understanding of every aspect of early music performance is exceptional.
For centuries the figure of Mary has deeply fascinated the devotees of European religious culture. The canonic bible seems to make up only a small proportion of what has been related on this subject amongst the proliferation of myths, legends, poetry and universal lore it has infused, and the culture and mentality it has permeated. Such a central subject of devotion will of course have provided much opportunity and inspiration for artists—not least composers of music—and the programme sequence here celebrates the biblical matriarch in the various images that have grown up around this continuous fascination: guiding light, mediator, caring mother and virgin lover to name a few. Ancient liturgical texts and poems explore her various mythical and human aspects and are set to music by masters of medieval England, offset by contemporary responses to these themes.
Part I of the programme focuses on the mythical and religious qualities of Mary. It is structured around music by the American composer Joanne Metcalf (b1958), who wrote a setting of excerpts of Canto XXIII from Paradiso by Dante (c1265-1321), calling it Il nome del bel fior (1998). Dante shares his vision of Mary the virgin as a 'fair rose through whom the divine word was made flesh', as the 'jewel of heaven' and 'the brightest of all stars' (recalling the familiar metaphor of Mary as star of the sea, 'stella maris'). The poetry circles around that 'fair rose' and Il nome del bel fior matches and captures Dante's 'circling, soaring melodies of poetry', revolving around the name Maria. Three of the cycle's ten movements are heard here, the first of which opens the procedure with an ethereal solo-voice meditation on the single word 'Maria'. The second, placed at the midpoint of Part I also sets this single word, with an increase of the texture to four voices, but the third of these concludes it with a powerfully effervescent display of Dante’s poetry, with its strong image of 'per entro il cielo scese una facella / formata in cerchio a guisa di corona / e cinsela e girossi intorno ad ella' ('out of the heavens a flaming band dropped / formed in a circle like a crown / that girdled and encompassed her').
The ideas surrounding the mystical aspects of Mary are progressively given more musical substance as texture and ‘plot’ gradually thicken, the non-contemporary Marian hymns, antiphons and sacred poetry settings advancing from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century. They are set in their respective genres of conductus—homorhythmic with no notated rhythm, thus performed in free rhythm or in rhythmic modes, often characterized by a longish melisma on the last or penultimate syllable of a verse; cantilena—a distinctly English form of mellifluous polyphony with the voices largely in parallel motion; English discant—in which the voices move in contrary motion and a cantus firmus chant is sung in the middle voice; and carol—a fifteenth-century song in English or Latin, with much of the same parallel motion as in cantilena, but usually for two voices, with a third joining them for the recurring refrain, or burden.
Whilst upholding the mystical Marian imagery, Part II deals more directly with the human Mary figure. It is dominated by a dialogue of devotion, agony, faith and promise between Mary and Jesus in the thirteenth-century Middle English poem Stond wel, moder, under rode. The scene is set with the two-voice Dou way, Robyn / Sancta mater gratiae, one voice indirectly telling of a mother caring for her young child, above which another voice expresses various illustrations of her sanctity. Then, in each of the three following sections, all primed with fifteenth-century three-voice settings of prayers of Marian devotion, the great poem, Stond wel, moder, under rode, appears in varying forms and concludes each mini-sequence with renewed focus on the human aspect of Mary, first in its original thirteenth-century monophonic form, then in two separate movements by the second contemporary composer featured on this recording, English-born Andrew Smith (b1970). Speaking about his inspiration for the piece, he writes: ‘In the story of Jesus’ persecution, suffering and death, there is perhaps no more poignant moment than the helplessness and desperation his mother must have felt witnessing her son’s death, as is most beautifully expressed in this English medieval poem. I have always been particularly attracted to the texts and music of Passiontide and Holy Week since they address such a mysterious yet inevitable aspect of human existence.’
Having reached the plateau of fifteenth-century compositional writing by the end of Part I we stay in this era for the non-contemporary polyphonic pieces in Part II, written in the English discant and carol style, before a summarizing votive plainchant prayer takes us back to the thirteenth century. In a conductus-related rondellus, a style characterized by so-called voice-exchange, in which the phrases of the three individual voices are repeatedly alternated between them, the programme’s high-spirited finale Alleluia psallat fuses earthly praise—as it were to the sound of harps and drums—with the mystical, though triumphant joy of the flowering of Jesse’s lineage in the solo plainchant verse ‘Virga Jesse’.
It has been an interesting project to combine the contemporary works presented here with medieval music. Many musicians agree that compositions of these widely spaced periods can often be compatible with one another, usually when the contemporary pieces are based on a 'polyphonic logic' and when tonal writing is combined with the 'horizontal' dominating the 'vertical', i.e. the harsh dissonances between voices caused by the uncompromising intrinsic logic of voice-leading making (retrospective) sense to the ear because of the harmonic resolutions the part-writing leads to—Stravinsky is possibly one of the first composers of the recent age to have written with this concept in mind. The works of the two contemporary composers featured here are most definitely tonal, treating the relationships between 'melody' and 'harmony', dissonance and consonance, tension and resolution with devices related to those of composers living 600 plus years before. The works by Metcalf relate further to the medieval items by her control and clarity of intricate and extravagant rhythmic patterns, her manner of word-setting being aptly described as 'at once rugged and elegant'. By contrast, Smith's response to the original Stond well, moder, under rode has his four homophonic voices emulating the same kind of 'psalmodic' rhythm as in a chant, or even as in a conductus when performed with free rhythm. Its tonality hinges on the phrygian mode, being tonally centred on E; and, steering the final phrase of each verse of poetry towards this implied target, it too recreates the same sense of resolution found in medieval writing, even at cadences where his resolutions retain attractive dissonances.
Transcending time, age and compositional era, whatever meaning the age-old fascination with the Mary figure may have for each of us, the art inspired by it presents a dazzling kaleidoscope of imagery and myth: glorious, painful, erotic and healing, to which the music on this recording, in its many facets, bears witness.
1 Joanne METCALF (b. 1958) - from Il nome del bel fior –Part I Maria I [2.50]
2. ANON (13th C) Stillit in stellam radium [2.48]
3. METCALF Music for The Star of the Sea [7.54]
4. ANON (14th C) Stella maris illustrans omnia [2.20]
5. METCALF Il nome del bel fior Part V Maria III [2.29]
6. ANON (14th C) Laetetur caeli curia [3.11]
7. ANON (12th C) Tronus regis [1.19]
8. John DUNSTAPLE (c. 1390-1453) Beata mater [2.18]
9. Richard SMERT (fl. 1428-77) Ave, decus saeculi [4.47]
10. DUNSTAPLE Ave Maris Stella [3.54]
11. METCALF Il nome del bel fior Part IV [4.00]
12. ANON (13th C) Dou way, Robin / Sancta mater gratiae [2.43]
13. GODRIC of FINCHALE (c. 1065-1170) Crist and Sainte Marie [2.01]
14. ANON (15th C) Sancta Maria Virgo [1.25]
15. ANON (13th C) Stond wel, moder, under rode [7.45]
16. Leonel POWER (c. 1370-1445) Beata progenies [1.02]
17. Andrew SMITH (b. 1970) Stond wel moder under rode Part I [3.46]
18. ANON (15th C) Jesu, fili virginis (2.56]
19. ANON (15th C) Pia mater salvatoris [3.37]
20. SMITH: Stond wel, Moder, under rode Part II [4.33]
21. GREGORIAN CHANT Gaude, Maria Virgo [3.33]
22. ANON (13th C) Alleluia psallat / Alleluia concinat - Virga Jesse [3.10]
II. Tristan’s Harp: Arthurian Medieval Music (Capilla Antigua de Chinchilla/José Ferrero). Naxos CD 8.572784.
The feats of King Arthur and his Knights have inspired artistic creation in many art forms. In this disc we hear how troubadours spread their stories and we journey through twelfth-, thirteenth- and fourteenth-century Europe to encounter the Arthurian musical traditions of Germany, Spain, France and England. Full of allusions to legend, and also to contemporary events, the songs are masterpieces of their time. The composers include Alonso X el Sabio of Spain and Richard the Lionheart, whose Je nulls homs priz is one of the most beautiful of all medieval songs.
“I know well how to play the harp and rote and how to sing in key” — Folie Tristan (Oxford version)
Ever since they first began to spread across Europe in the Middle Ages, the tales of King Arthur and his knights have inspired creativity in all spheres of artistic expression, music being no exception. At the same time as the literary works of Chrétien de Troyes or Geoffrey of Monmouth were appearing, bards and troubadours too were drawing on the tales for lyrical inspiration. By the thirteenth century, the songs of troubadours, trouvères and Minnesänger had brought the stories of Arthur, Merlin, Percival, Tristan and Iseult et al. (not to mention the Holy Grail) to audiences far and wide. This album takes a journey through the twelfth-, thirteenth- and fourteenth-century Arthurian musical traditions of Germany, Spain, France and England. The chivalric feats, enchanted forests and love potions of the chronicles suited the courtly love aesthetic to perfection. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that music, adventure and love should go hand in hand, or that Tristan should be a skilled harpist who teaches Iseult to play. Music becomes an indispensable element in the development of the Arthurian legend.
The so-called “Matter of Britain” also reached the Iberian Peninsula, travelling along the “Camino de Santiago” to inspire poetry in the Galician-Portuguese language. Tristan’s Harp opens with one of the Cantigas de Santa Maria (Canticles of the Virgin Mary) which were produced during the reign of Alfonso X, some of them written by the king himself, and which as a whole constitute the most significant song collection of medieval Spain. Cantiga No 35, O que a Santa Maria (He who to the Virgin Mary) , like most of the poems, tells the story of a Marian miracle, but also mentions King Arthur, as does No 419, Des quando Deus sa Madre (Since God his Mother) . Merlin, meanwhile, appears in No 108, Dereit’ é de ss’ end’ achar (It is right therefore) , in which he argues with a Jewish sage about the doctrine of Incarnation.
Thibaut de Champagne, also known as Theobald I of Navarre and Theobald the Chansonnier, was born in Troyes in 1201 and died in Pamplona in 1253. He was a prolific writer and created works in a variety of genres, including the political song or serventois featured here, Deus est ensi comme li pellicans (God is like the pelican) . This is thought to reflect the dispute that lasted from 1236 to 1239 between the Church, in the shape of its head, Pope Gregory IX, and the German emperor Frederick II, over where those preparing to fight in the Sixth Crusade should be sent (Palestine or Constantinople). It includes an allusion to the wisdom of Merlin, and grows in intensity as Thibaut accuses the Church of abusing its position.
Redit aetas aurea (The age of gold returns)  is an anonymous English two-part conductus in the style of the Notre Dame School. It belongs to the Old St Andrews Music Book (W1) and was normally performed as a processional piece. Written for the coronation of Richard the Lionheart, it was also used for those of some of his successors.
Richard himself wrote the song Ja nuls homs pres (No man imprisoned)  while he was being held prisoner in Dürnstein as part of his eventful journey home from the Third Crusade in 1192. Captured near Vienna by Leopold V, Duke of Austria, he was then handed over to the German emperor, Henry VI. Richard wrote this song in both the langue d’oc and langue d’oïl—the more frequently performed and better-known version is the latter, in the language of northern France (medieval French), and we have therefore chosen to perform it in the langue d’oc, or Occitan, on this album. The lyrics of this, perhaps one of the most beautiful songs of the entire medieval period, tell of his unhappiness at having to wait for his ransom to be paid.
Pange melos lacrimosum (Compose a sorrowful song)  is another anonymous two-part conductus of the Notre Dame School. It appears to refer to the death in 1190 of the German emperor Frederick Barbarossa when he was on his way to fight alongside Richard in Palestine. Barbarossa, like Arthur, was to become the subject of numerous myths and legends.
A common musical form in the Middle Ages was that of the contrafactum, in which a text was adapted to a piece of music that suited its metre, so that musicians simply needed to learn new words for tunes they knew well. We include here a text by Heinrich von Veldeke, Tristrant muste sonder danc (Tristran was involuntarily faithful) , set to the music of an anonymous fourteenth-century Italian piece entitled Lamento di Tristano.
A further mention of Tristan is to be found in Can vei la lauzeta (When I see the lark) , one of the best-known songs of the troubadour repertory. Its author, Provençal poet and composer Bernart de Ventadorn, served at the court of Eleanor of Aquitaine (Richard the Lionheart’s mother) in England, then returned to Aquitaine—firstly to the court of Narbonne and then to that of Raymond V of Toulouse. On the latter’s death in 1194, Bernart became a monk at the Abbey of Dalon, where he later died.
Trouvère Le Châtelain de Coucy compares himself to Tristan grieving for his lost love in his song La douce voiz du louseignol sauvage (The sweet voice of the wild nightingale) . A highly tragic tale grew up around Le Châtelain de Coucy, inspiring a number of books on the subject: legend had it that after his death, the poet’s heart was fed to his lover, the Dame de Fayel, by her jealous husband…
The Stantipes (or Estampies) I, II and III    are anonymous thirteenth-century English dances, to which we decided to add a subtitle befitting this album’s Arthurian slant. In common with other estampies, such as the well-known piece entitled Tre fontane (Three fountains), they can also be seen as abstract instrumental works. Our chosen subtitle, “Dances of the forest of no return”, is a nod to a reference in the Vulgate Cycle to the knights and ladies compelled to dance for ever in the “Forest Perdue”.
01. Alfonso X el Sabio (1221-1284): O que a Santa Maria – Cantiga 35
02. Anonymous Italian (14th century): Lamento di Tristano – Contrafactum (Text: Tristant muste sonder danc by Heinrich von Veldeke, 1150-c.1190)
03. Anonymous English (13th century): “Dance of the forest of no return” – Stantipes I (Instrumental)
04. Thibaut de Champagne (1201-1253): Deus est ensi comme li pellicanz
05. Anonymous English (12th century): Redit aetas aurea
06. Richard I, Coeur-de-Lion (1157-1199): Ja nuls homs pres
07. Anonymous French (c.1190): Pange melos lacrimosum
08. Anonymous French (13th century): Quarte Estampie Royale (Instrumental)
09. Le Châtelain de Coucy (c.1165-1203): La douce voiz du louseignol sauvage
10. Anonymous English (13th century): “Dance of the forest of no return” – Stantipes II (Instrumental)
11. Bernart de Ventadorn (c.1130-1200): Can vei la lauzeta
12. Alfonso X el Sabio: Des quando Deus sa madre – Cantiga 419 (Instrumental)
13. Anonymous English (13th century): “Dance of the forest of no return” – Stantipes III (Instrumental)
14. Alfonso X el Sabio: Dereit’ é de ss’ end’ achar – Cantiga 108
III. Straight from the Heart—The Chansonnier Cordiforme (Ensemble Leones/Marc Lewon). Naxos CD 8.573325.
Probably copied in about 1475, the heart-shaped songbook was created for a priest named Jean de Montchenu, then living in Geneva. The style of the decorations points to the Savoy court circles, and Jean de Montchenu was in those circles during the early 1470s, as the mignon of the Bishop of Geneva, to be supplanted in that role early in 1476. Since 1460 he had been a papal protonotary and in 1477 he was named bishop of Agen, at which point his coat of arms, on the first page of the songbook, would have given a clear sign of his promotion.
Jean de Montchenu was plainly a rogue. A chronicler of the time described him as ‘an especially treacherous individual, shameful of conduct, unchaste, detestable, dissolute and full of all the vices’ (vir sceleratissimus, et inter omnes turpissimus, inverecundus, detestabilis, dissolutus, et omnium vitiorum plenus). All those features are well described elsewhere; during his time as bishop of Viviers, he brought some outrageous law-suits, many of them apparently motivated by sheer greed. He was also at one point excommunicated. Evidently, though, he had a highly cultivated taste in music.
Few music manuscripts are lovelier. It is not so much the decorations on every page, because they rather dwindle as the manuscript progresses (as though prepared to a deadline with time running out: plainly the decorations would be the last thing to be entered in a manuscript of this kind). What counts more is the quality of the parchment, the quality of the stave-ruling, the quality of the music-copying and—to a lesser extent—the quality of the texts. This is a beautifully prepared manuscript.
But its really stunning feature is of course its heart shape. So far as anybody knows, this is unique. There are a few surviving examples of books that are the shape of a clove of garlic, opening up to take the shape of a heart; there are also two fifteenth-century paintings with such books—both, incidentally, by the Brussels painter known as the Master of the View of Ste Gudule. But there seems to be no other example that is already in the shape of a heart when it is closed, opening up to become a slightly different-looking heart.
It is easy to underestimate the difficulty creating a book that looks like a heart both when it is closed and also when it is open. And even more difficult is covering the binding with velvet. Any covering for a book becomes complicated the moment that the cover is not rectangular. But the Chansonnier Cordiforme has four round bends and two sharp angles. Certainly Fernando Grau Orellano, the publisher of the beautiful modern facsimile of the manuscript, viewed this as his greatest challenge, despite all the facilities offered by modern binding methods. (Valencia: Vicent García Editores. The facsimile costs €3000, but is eminently worth it if you have the money to spare: when I compared the facsimile with the original in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, the custodians put aside a considerable length of time to assure themselves that I had returned the original, not the astonishingly precise facsimile.)
Like many decorated manuscripts of its time, the Chansonnier Cordiforme is on very thin parchment, with the stave-lines ruled precisely back-to-back to aid the clarity of the image; similarly, the decorations are precisely back-to-back, so that a figure with a bow and arrow facing to the left on fol. 3r will be matched by one facing right on fol. 3v.
One further unusual feature of the Chansonnier is worth mentioning here, namely the quantity of text added to the lower voices. In the most famous chansonniers of the time—particularly a group apparently copied in the Loire Valley—text is applied only to the top voice, except in the very rare cases of ‘combinative chansons’, where there are different texts to the lower voices. And there has been some dispute as to whether the songs were devised to be performed with just one singing voice and two accompanying instruments or whether the texts were confined to the top voice purely as an economy and in order to make the pages look elegant. Cordiforme is the largest collection with fuller texting in the lower voices: most of the other examples are either tiny or fragmentary. But it does look now very much as though all voices could be sung and texted; in almost all chansonniers only one line of text is underlaid, so for the later stanzas the singers would in any case need to align the text to the music without a visual aid; and a second glance at the Loire- Valley chansonniers tells us that the upper voices are not texted with any precision—that is to say that the text underlay that happens to be present gives very little clue as to the appropriate texting, and in some ways it is easier to add text appropriately to the untexted lower voices. In any case, within the last twenty years there has been an increasing belief that the lower voices of the fifteenthcentury song repertory are suitable to be sung and to carry text. And it is therefore very good to hear this being done with so many of the songs on the present recording.
With 43 songs, this is about the size of many chansonniers from those years. But we cannot strictly call this a chansonnier: certainly 30 of the songs are with French text, but 12 have text in poorly copied Italian and one has a Spanish (Castilian) text that the copyist seems to have thought was Italian. What is interesting is that the Italian and Spanish songs come at the start of the manuscript, despite the copyist’s evident difficulty with these languages. But these include some of the earliest songs in the manuscript, so perhaps they are pieces that Jean de Montchenu collected during his time at the papal court in about 1460.
Moreover, many of the Italian-texted songs—quite unlike the French-texted songs—betray signs of belonging to an unwritten or semi-written tradition. Ben lo sa Dio  does in fact exist in several different versions, all of them plainly having the same music at base. The same could be said of Perla mya cara , though the only other copy of that has music that is almost entirely different. And La gratia de vos  may well be one of the earliest surviving polyphonic songs with Castilian text: its oddly homophonic style seems to prefigure some of the pieces in the far later Cancionero de Palacio, but the harmonic style is definitely from the first half of the fifteenth century. This is why all three songs are interpreted rather more freely on this recording. On the other hand, the Italian songs also include Dufay’s Dona gentile , certainly the latest of his known songs with Italian text, probably from around 1450 and one of the most technically sophisticated of his late works.
When we turn to the thirty French-texted songs here we encounter yet another feature of the special character of the Chansonnier Cordiforme, namely the very high proportion of the most widely copied songs of that generation that are contained here. Judging the popularity, importance or influence of particular works can be a risky business. But there are various indications available to us: first of all the number of manuscripts that contain the song; second, the number of later compositions based on the song; third, the number of references to the song in other poetry of the time; and fourth, the number of ‘contrafact’ poems devised for the music. Using those criteria, it is easy to judge that several pieces here are absolutely among the favourites of their time—including, among the songs on this recording, Hayne van Ghizeghem’s De tous biens plaine , Binchois’ Comme femme desconfortee , Ockeghem’s Ma bouche rit , Morton’s N’aray je jamais  and Le souvenir  and Vincenet’s Fortune, par ta cruaulté .
And that is the context for the two pieces here that are not actually from the Chansonnier Cordiforme. Probably at about the same time as Cordiforme was being copied Johannes Tinctoris made several arrangements based on famous songs: in the two cases here he kept the original tenor but added a discantus voice that was vastly more florid, albeit keeping the melodic outlines of that voice. There are literally hundreds of such arrangements surviving from the later years of the fifteenth century and the early years of the sixteenth, to some extent testifying to the continued popularity of these works.
Quite when that tradition fully took root, it is hard to say, but there are already a few examples in the Chansonnier Cordiforme: Chiara fontana  (the only twovoice piece in the collection) plainly parodies the everpopular J’ay pris amours; Ma bouche plaint  is based on the materials of Ockeghem’s Ma bouche rit; and Comme ung homme desconforté  paraphrases Binchois’ Comme femme desconfortee.
Which is why it seems worthwhile to say a few words about Hayne’s De tous biens plaine. With 30 sources currently known, it is by far the most often copied song of its generation. My own calculations yield 54 later pieces based on Hayne’s material; and all but seven of these look as though they were composed before the year 1500. Hayne’s piece is hard to date: he was described as a young boy in 1457, and it first appears in the sources in the years just before 1470. That almost 50 known pieces were based on it in those thirty years is astonishing. But even more astonishing—and worth stressing here because of the wonderful performance of it on this recording—is that this is a song with very few of the features you would associate with the best music of its generation. None of the striking and elegant melodies that characterize Ma bouche rit, Fortune, par ta cruaulté, Comme femme desconfortee or N’aray je jamais, none of the textural refinement of Dona gentile or Helas, n’aray je jamais mieulx 2, none of the startling harmonic turns of Fortune, par ta cruaulté. The discantus line is hardly memorable; the bassus suffers like so many such lines from that first generation of composers who decided to have a separate bottom voice in a register distinct from the others (starting a trend that would dominate almost all music until at least the early twentieth century), namely that it returns far too often to its tonal centre of G; only the tenor line has any claim to individuality. But there is worse: there are two terrible contrapuntal flaws near the end, which will strike the ear of anybody familiar with the repertory: one of them is in fact corrected in several manuscripts, but the Cordiforme reading is surely correct; the other appears in all sources. These are very rare flaws in a repertory where everything is calculated on control, on elegance, on restraint, and where the general texture of only three voices (at a time when motets and mass cycles were almost always in four voices) means that any contrapuntal problem strikes the ear all the more strongly. I hope this marvellous recording will pave the way for a new generation of listeners to understand the song’s qualities.
1. L'autre jour par ung matin [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 16] 00:04:01
3. Terriblement suis fortunee [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 38] 00:01:57
4. De tous biens plaine est ma maistresse [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 19] 00:07:12
5. Comme femme desconfortée [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 29] 00:05:40
6. Fortune, par ta cruaulté [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 27] 00:03:59
7. Adieu vous dy l'espoir de ma jonesse [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 37] 00:04:31
8. Le souvenir [Segovia Codex, Toledo, c. 1501 - 1503] 00:01:07
Show Details Ben lo sa Dio se sum vergine e pura [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 2]
9. Ben lo sa Dio se sum vergine e pura [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 2] 00:05:30
10. Chiara fontana de belli costumi [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 5] 00:01:22
11. N'aray je jamais mieulx que j'ay [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 25] 00:03:32
12. Dona gentile he bella come l'oro [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 3] 00:04:01
14. O pelegrina, o luce, o clara stella [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 6] 00:01:56
15. Ma bouche rit et ma pensee pleure [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 31] 00:05:52
16. Ma bouche plaint les pleurs de ma pensee [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 33] 00:01:56
17. La gratia de vos, donsella [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 8] 00:02:01
18. Comme ung homme desconforté [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 14] 00:03:22
19. Perla mya cara, o dolce amore [Chansonnier Cordiforme, Geneva, c. 1475, CORD 9] 00:07:44
Joanne METCALF (b. 1958), John DUNSTAPLE (c. 1390-1453), Richard SMERT (fl. 1428-77), GODRIC of FINCHALE (c. 1065-1170), Leonel POWER (c. 1370-1445), Andrew SMITH (b. 1970), Alfonso X el Sabio (1221-1284), Thibaut de Champagne (1201-1253), Richard I Coeur-de-Lion (1157-1199), Le Châtelain de Coucy (c.1165-1203), Bernart de Ventadorn (c.1130-1200), Hayne van Ghizeghem (1445 - 1497), Gilles de Bins dit Binchois (1400 - 1460), Vincenet du Bruecquet, Johannes Tinctoris (1435 - 1511), Robert Morton (1430 - 1479), Guillaume Dufay (1397 - 1474), Johannes Ockeghem (1410 - 1497), David Fallows
CDCKD 541, CD 8.572784, CD 8.573325