The fifteenth-century French composer Guillaume Dufay straddles the musical boundary between the Medieval and the Renaissance. Working in France and Italy, writing secular and sacred music, sometimes to his own verses, he seems to have had a finger in every musical pie, and this evening’s concert by the Orlando Consort illustrated his pivotal role in the evolution of later Renaissance styles.
To set Dufay’s music in context, the Orlando Consort opened with Eya dulcis / Vale placens, written by Jean Tapissier at the end of the fourteenth-century. This demanding work dispelled any lingering belief that medieval music is simple, consisting as it did of two simultaneous sets of words, each with their own different and complicated rhythms, and ending with some startling dissonances. Later, the consort performed a piece by Dufay’s contemporary Ockeghem (S’elle m’amera / Petite Camusette) which retained the same style: an exciting jumble of words, and a beautiful florid top line for alto Matthew Venner, which he seemed to sing without ever stopping for breath.
Dufay’s Missa Sancti Jacobi was full of references to the great Medieval pilgrimages to the shrine of St. James in Santiago de Compostela. Unusually, Dufay wrote polyphonic settings for the “Propers” – those parts of the mass that are unique to the particular day – as well as the more familiar “Ordinary” sections (Kyrie, Gloria, etc), including here a majestic Alleluia movement whose lovely words are a prayer to St James, “shining star of the Spanish”. In this and several other works, the Orlando Consort opted to sing with Medieval French pronunciation, which I found fascinating, and the familiar words of the Latin mass text suddenly demanded a new level of concentration.
A farewell lament to the wines, legumes and women of Northern France took us, with Dufay, abroad to Italy. Adieu ces bons vins de Lannoys, sung with feeling by the three lower voices, was tender and wistful, and was very much in the Medieval melodic tradition. This sample of Dufay’s Italian music felt immediately more modern. In his setting of Plutarch’s poem Vergene bella, the voices worked more closely together, on the same set of words, in a fresh, lyrical style that anticipates the Italian madrigal.