THE MUSIC OF THE ANCIENT GREEKS
Significance of Greek music--Greek conception of music; mythical
records--Music in social life; folk song; general characteristics
of Greek music--Systems and scales--Pythagoras’ theories; later
theorists: Aristoxenus to Ptolemy--Periods of Greek composition: the
nomoi; lyricism; choral dancing and choral lyricism; the drama--Greek
instruments; notation.
The importance of the music of the most ancient civilizations and its
relevance to the history of music as an art may be questioned with
some justification. Indeed, some historians, notably Riemann, in his
scholarly _Handbuch der Musikgeschichte_, have practically foregone all
reference to it. But an account of Greek music has unanimously been
held an essential part of the scheme, for it has had an unquestioned
influence upon the beginnings of our own art, and though misunderstood
for centuries its theoretic system has served as the foundation of
mediæval musical science.
Moreover, the Greeks, in whose civilization antiquity reached its
pinnacle, manifested an attitude toward the art distinctly different
from that of the older nations, an æsthetic and humanistic attitude
more akin to our own, which enabled them to realize something like
the degree of beauty and perfection which they are conceded to have
attained in the other arts. Therefore, though music is destitute of
parallels to our glorious examples of the plastic arts of antiquity, a
presentation of the few facts hinting at the true merits of this lost
art is distinctly pertinent.
I
It is lamentable, indeed, that next to nothing has been preserved to
us of Greek music. The few fragments which assiduous antiquarians
have restored and deciphered are hardly sufficient to suggest its true
quality, and even further restorations could do no more than confirm
the present evidence, for manuscripts are but the skeleton records--the
essence has been lost with the lyres and flutes, it has died with the
voices of Anacreon and Sappho.
While we moderns generally deny to music any direct correspondence with
the realities of life, the Greeks held it to be the most 'imitative’
or representative of arts.[32] Not only states of feeling, but also
ethical qualities and dispositions of mind were reproduced by musical
'imitation,’ and on the close correspondence between the copy and
the original depended the importance of music in the formation of
character. Aristotle in his 'Politics’ says: 'In rhythm and melodies
we have the most realistic imitation of anger and mildness, as well as
of courage, temperance, and all their opposites.’ Here is an important
element in the Greek conception of music, radically different from our
own. Its imputed educational value, its influence upon the character of
the youth, and even its therapeutic powers are no less foreign to our
modern ideas.
Plato in his 'Republic’ sets down the study of music and its regulation
as an essential part of the ideal commonwealth. 'Beginning from early
childhood,’ he says, 'they teach and admonish their sons as long as
they live....’ 'Again the music masters in the same way pay attention
to sobriety of behavior and take care that the boys commit no evil, and
when they have learned to play upon the lyre they teach them all the
compositions of other good poets, lyric poets, setting them to music,
and they compel Modes and Harmony to become familiar to the boys’ souls
in order that they may become more gentle, and, being themselves more
rhythmical and harmonious, they may be serviceable in word and deed;
for the whole life of man requires rhythm and harmony.’ And elsewhere
in the same work: 'But when handsome amusements are appointed them in
their infancy, and when by means of music they embrace that amusement
which is according to law (contrariwise to the others), this music
attends them in everything else and grows with them, and raiseth up in
the city whatever formerly was fallen down.’
As illustrative of the moral import of music Plato says: 'Is it
indeed then according as I say, that we shall never become musicians,
neither we ourselves, nor the guardians we say we are to educate,
before we understand the images of temperance, fortitude, liberality
and magnificence, and the other sister virtues?...’ Hierocles attests
Pythagoras’ belief in the therapeutic powers of music in the following
quotation: 'He look’d on Musick as a great advantage to Health and made
use of it in the diseases of the body as well as of the Soul; for, as
Plato said after him, Perfect Musick is a Compound of Voices and of
Instrumental Harmony. The Voice alone is more perfect than instruments
alone; but it wants one thing to complete its Perfection; and that one
thing is Harmony: and Instruments alone, without a voice, yield only
rambling and extravagant Sounds, which may indeed affect and move the
Soul, but cannot instruct nor form the Manners which ought to be the
chief end of Musick.’[33]
Before considering the probable character and form of ancient Hellenic
compositions we must record that music hardly existed among the Greeks
as an independent art. The word [Greek: mousikê] held a much broader
meaning than our own word music; it included poetry, at least in its
narrower sense, and in a measure dancing and mimetics. Likewise it was
closely allied, through their philosophy, to mathematics and astronomy.
But to say that music was subordinate to poetry is inaccurate,
for, while vocal compositions, both solo and choral, made up the
bulk of Greek music, instrumental music was practised not only in
accompaniment, but independently also, and virtuosity on the _kithara_
and _aulos_ was developed to a considerable degree. The great musicians
of Greece, however, were at the same time its great poets. Homer
and Hesiod may be thought of as musicians, no less than Pindar, the
adored creator of the first dithyramb, and Æschylus, the greatest of
dramatists. It may be interesting at this point to reproduce the table
compiled by Aristides Quintilianus (second century A. D.), one of the
most eminent Greek theoreticians of the Roman era, to show the various
branches of musical science as then understood. This illustrates
clearly the union of poetry and music, the perfect fusion of two arts
in which neither predominated, but was only an inherent part of the
other.
│ │ a) Arithmetic (musical
│ A. Natural │ mathematics)
│ Science <│
│ │ b) Physics (acoustics and
I. Theoretical │ │ physiology of hearing)
Part <│
│ │ c) Harmonics
│ │
│ B. Musical <│ d) Rhythmics
│ Technology │
│ │ e) Metrical Science (Prosody)
│ │ f) Melodic invention
│ │
│ C. Composition <│ g) Formation of stanzas
II. Practical │ │
Part │ │ h) Poetry
<│
(Applied Music) │ │ j) Instrumental practice
│ │
│ D. Musical <│ k) Singing
│ Practice │
│ │ l) Mimetics
The earliest references to the art, in the works of Homer and
Hesiod,[34] who themselves may be deemed the first poetic singers of
record, are clothed in mythical terms, and a brief review of these
references may be of interest as reflecting the racial attitude
toward music. In Hesiod we read much about the immortal muses, the
nine daughters of Zeus (all-father) and Mnemosyne (memory), and of
these especially three are of interest to us: _Calliope_, the muse
of epic song; _Euterpe_, the muse of melody and lyric poetry, and
_Terpsichore_, the muse of choral dance. According to Homer these
entertained the gods by singing (Iliad, i, 604), while song itself the
poet considered a direct gift of the gods.
The greatest mythical figure of Greek music is Orpheus, who, like all
the early civilizers of Hellas, was a Thracian, a people afterward
considered barbarous by the Athenians. Orpheus was said to be the son
of the king of Thrace, by the muse Calliope, but another account makes
Apollo his father. He was one of the Argonauts, and indeed it was the
stirring tones of his lyre as he chanted of adventure on the sea that
stirred the good ship _Argo_ to her launching when all the strength of
the heroes had failed in the task. On passing the Island of the Sirens
the Argonauts owed their safety to Orpheus, for, taking his lyre, he
sang so loudly and so sweetly as to overpower the Sirens’ melodies,
whereby all escaped unscathed save Butes, who plunged overboard only to
be snatched up by Aphrodite. Again it was the urging of Orpheus’ lyre
that gave the strength to the Argonautic rowers to speed between the
clashing rocks, the Sympleglades, after the dove had passed through and
the rocks had recoiled. The skill with which he plucked the strings
moved even the trees and rocks, and the wild beasts of the forest
surrounded him in delighted transports as he sang.
The story of Orpheus and his wife, the nymph Eurydice, is perhaps the
best known of all myths connected with music. Eurydice, it is said, was
slain by the bite of a serpent as she was fleeing from the unwelcome
love of Aristæus, son of Apollo. Orpheus determined to descend to the
Underworld, and, using the power of melody to soften the hearts of the
rulers of that abode of Darkness and of Death, to regain possession
of his beloved. Armed with his lyre, he easily obtained admittance
to the realm of Hades, and in course of time made good his entrance
to the palace of Pluto. At the music of his lyre the wheel of Ixion
stopped, Tantalus forgot the thirst which was his eternal torture, for
a moment the vulture ceased his perpetual gnawing at the vitals of
Tityus and Pluto, and Proserpina granted the prayer of the impassioned
melodist, with one condition only: that he should not look back upon
his almost-rescued wife before he had reached with her the confines of
the land of darkness. Impelled by love and eagerness, Orpheus violated
this condition and Eurydice vanished evermore from his sight.
Of the poetical works ascribed to Orpheus, those which remain
appear to have been written chiefly by Onamacritus and Cercops,
and they illustrate some of the earliest forms of hymns with a
musical accompaniment. Orpheus is also credited with the formulation
of an augmentation of the scale, having added two strings to the
seven-stringed lyre which Apollo had given him.
The legend of Amphion also signifies the peculiar veneration in which
music was held by the Greeks. The son of Zeus (or Jupiter) and Antiope,
he became king of the Thebans, and Hermes gave him a lyre of gold.
By its power alone, the story runs, he built the walls of Thebes,
the stones taking their places in obedience to the strains of his
instrument. All of which serves to illustrate the high conception
which the Greeks had of the art, how constantly it occupied their
thoughts, and what extraordinary powers they ascribed to it. This is
further attested by historical evidence showing the place which music
occupied in their social system.
II
There is little doubt that in the classic period at least music was
an essential part of the intellectual equipment of every citizen. It
assumed a public importance and received an official recognition from
the state which no other people has ever accorded to it. Not only
did it form an integral part of religious worship, but it occupied
an important position in the great national festivals at which the
intellectual accomplishments no less than the physical prowess of all
Greece were matched.
The Olympic games, beginning with the year 776 B. C., and taking place
regularly every four years in the plain of Alpheious in Elis (Olympia),
are the oldest as well as the most famous of these festivals, and
as the most comprehensive national celebrations they assumed the
greatest importance. All Hellas and the colonies sent spectators and
participants in the contests. While music no doubt played a great part
in the celebration of the victors, in the sacred sacrifice to Zeus,
and in the pageants and dances, an actual contest in music or poetry
was never incorporated into the Olympic games. But the Pythic games,
which took place at Delphi every nine years, and after 586 B. C. in the
third year of every Olympiad, were primarily poetico-musical contests
in honor of Apollo. The first day was permanently dedicated to the
performance of the famous _Nomos Pythicos_ (of which later). Both the
Isthmian games and the Nemeic games, which took place every two years,
were likewise closely identified with music.
But besides these great national festivals, which in all amounted to
two or three annually, there were a great number of local celebrations,
some of which partook of an almost national character by virtue of the
great influx of foreign visitors. The Eleusinian mysteries, primarily
confined to the initiates, also took on the character of a popular
festival by the institution of public contests and pageants, in which,
of course, music played a great part. The Athenians’ annual Panatheneas
in honor of their patron goddess, their harvest festivals, and their
Dionysos festivals; the Spartans’ numerous celebrations and a host of
others, all of which were dedicated to some phase of culture, will
indicate in some measure the tremendous amount of time and attention
which the Greeks gave to the cultivation of the representative arts.
From Polybius, writing in the second century A. D., and taking as his
authority Ephorus, writing two hundred years earlier, we learn that the
Arcadians ordered their State affairs entirely according to music, in
such manner that not only boys, but young men up to the age of thirty
were obliged to cultivate musical study continually. 'From infancy on
their children are accustomed to sing according to rule the hymns and
pæans with which every country district praises its gods and heroes.
Later they learn the melodies of Timotheus and Philoxenos, and annually
perform their choral dances in the theatre to the accompaniment of
Dionysian flutes--the children their children’s dances, and youths the
dances of men. Throughout their whole life they institute performances
in this way, not engaging foreign musicians, but relying upon their own
talents, and relieving each other in turn in the execution of songs.
And while it is not considered a disgrace to plead ignorance in other
fields of knowledge, they consider it reprehensible to decline to
sing. They also practise processions to the accompaniment of flutes,
and annually perform dances which they study together and produce in
the theatres at the common expense.’
Not only in the public functions, but in their domestic life as well,
did music assume great importance. From earliest times we have records
of folk songs associated with the various occupations of ordinary life.
Of these the songs which have reference to the seasons of the year
and their phenomena, and which express the emotions called forth by
them, are of the greatest antiquity. They were sung by country folk,
by the reapers and vintners. There were two distinct classes of folk
songs, the songs of sorrow and the songs of joy, both of which existed
according to Homer before his time. Karl Bücher in his _Arbeit und
Rhythmus_ shows that in the occupational songs, where the dance did not
form a part of the music, the rhythm of the occupations themselves--the
handling of tools--determined the rhythm of the songs. Among such are
the song of the miller while grinding, the song of the spinners, the
binders of sheaves, and many others. There is no doubt that these
songs, expressing in simple terms the sorrows and joys of the ordinary
man, had a refreshing influence upon the more sophisticated artistic
creations of Greek musicians, just as our folk songs have had upon
the works of our greatest composers. The private practice of the more
artistic forms was also common among the Greeks. We read in their
literature how the lyre was passed round at the banquet, and each guest
was expected to add to the merriment of the occasion; of the bridal
songs, and many other forms of choral music executed upon special
occasions.
[Illustration: GREEK FLUTE AND _KITHARA_ PLAYERS.]
_Reproduced from a Volcentian vessel._
The actual character of this music we must gather from the writings
about it, rather than the few fragments at hand for analysis. Just
as music, because of its moral significance, became the subject
of philosophic speculation, so did its scientific side appeal to the
analytic mind of the Greeks, and their mathematicians and scientists
in general expatiated at length upon its theory. From their writings
we adduce first of all the fact that Greek music lacked at least one
of the important elements of modern music, namely, polyphony--or
harmony--the quality which of all, from a modern point of view, appeals
most directly to our emotions, to our susceptibility, which is most
closely associated with color and 'mood.’ Investigators, such as
Westphal, Gevaert, etc., have untiringly striven to establish evidence
of something more than simple homophony in the music of antiquity, but
beyond a slight deviation in the instrumental accompaniments, partaking
of the nature of grace notes, they have discovered traces of nothing
but melody at the unison--or at the distance of an octave, when men and
boys (or women) sang together, or when the voice was accompanied by
an instrument of higher or lower pitch. Such and nothing more is the
import of the testimony of Aristotle, when he says: 'Why is symphonous
or antiphonal singing more pleasing than harmony? Is it not because it
is the consonance of the octave? For antiphony is born of the voices
of young boys and men, whose tones are equal in distance from each
other as is the highest note of an octave from the lowest’ (Problems
xix, 29). Curious as it may seem that it should never have occurred
to a people intellectually so advanced to venture experiments in the
field of polyphony; that it should never have entered their minds to
strike two strings of the lyre or kithara simultaneously, or that
an occasional false note struck along with the right one should not
have suggested the possibilities of the 'third dimension’ in music,
it remains a fact that in all the mass of theoretical and technical
writings upon the art sufficient to reconstruct the entire 'system’ of
Greek music, no mention is made of harmony or polyphony.[35] We can
only conclude then that combinations other than the perfect consonance
of the octave, all mixtures of sounds or a confusion of lines, were
hostile to the Greek ideal of purity, to the underlying principle of
classic simplicity.
Thus the Greeks, reduced to the resources of rhythm and melody as
means of musical expression, developed these to a very high degree, in
the fineness of its distinctions advanced even beyond the point which
we have as yet found it necessary to reach in modern music. Their
rhythm, while no doubt it had a distinct and independent existence,
was primarily determined by the accent of the spoken word, the metres
of poetry. Even if conceived as a musical entity, it must at all times
be thought of as pertaining to the text rather than the melody. The
earliest rhythm of which we have knowledge is the hexameter of the
Homeric epics, and it is doubtful whether any variety in rhythmic
structure was introduced until the introduction of the short iambic
measures at a later period. Melody, on the other hand, while subjected
to certain laws, and at first perhaps nothing more than a monotonous
chant or declamation at slightly varying pitch, finally attained a
variety of line and freedom of movement which rendered it capable of
the most subtle shades of expression. This, we are informed, was due to
a complex system of modes or scales, of _genera_ and _chroai_, which,
if we understand them correctly, would credit the Greek ear with much
finer distinctions of pitch than we are capable of to-day.
A full discussion of this system is beyond our present purpose, and
the numerous controversies concerning it, which in many respects are
still unsettled, place the matter outside the pale of true history;
but a brief statement of its development (in historical sequence) is
necessary for the comprehension of the terms which must recur in the
course of our sketch.
III
We have seen that the Greeks recognized the consonance of the octave.
Similarly they recognized at an early period the close relationship
of the interval of the perfect fifth, and its inversion, the perfect
fourth. The latter became the basis of the Greek system of scales. They
divided the interval into unequal smaller intervals according to three
methods, or _genera_, in each case placing the larger steps at the top
and the smaller at the bottom. (An equal division of the interval has,
as far as we know, never been attempted and is entirely foreign to
natural impulses.) The results obtained were as follows:
[Illustration: THE THREE GENERA.]
Of these three tetrachords (from [Greek: tetra] = four and [Greek:
chordon] = string) only the first was generally accepted, the chromatic
was rarely used and the enharmonic probably only by _virtuosi_, for we
have the testimony of Aristoxenus that the ear accustomed itself only
with difficulty to the distinction of quarter tones.
By joining two diatonic tetrachords together we obtain a series
of notes corresponding to the Dorian scale or mode ([Greek:
harmonia])--more properly 'octave species’--which was accounted the
oldest of all the modes:
[Illustration: DORIAN.]
Associated with this we soon find the Phrygian mode, supposed to be of
Asiatic origin and introduced into Greece by Terpander of Lesbos, one
of the earliest known composers of antiquity:
[Illustration: PHRYGIAN.]
and also the Lydian, the name of which indicates its origin:
[Illustration: LYDIAN.]
Around these three may be grouped all the modes in use in classic
times. These scales or octave species may be compared rather to our
present major and minor modes than to our modern transposition scales,
in that their identity is determined _not_ by their absolute pitch, but
by the intrinsic character of each mode, _based upon the distribution
of the large and small steps or intervals within the octave_. But
here the analogy ends, for the Greek modes cannot really be thought
of in the same way as either modern scales or modes, which by long
association with our harmonic system have become inseparably identified
with it, so that every step of the scale has a harmonic significance
as well as a melodic. Hence, there is associated with our scales the
idea of _tonality_, which in its modern sense is entirely foreign to
Greek music. Nevertheless a distinct character or _ethos_ was ascribed
to their scales by the Greeks (just as our major and minor have their
individual character). The Lydian, for instance, was thought of as
plaintive and adaptable to songs of sorrow; the Dorian as manly and
strong, hence to be employed in warlike strains; and so on.[36]
It will be seen that the above three scales correspond to the three
series of notes comprised within the octaves from e to e´, d to d´,
and c to c´, produced by the white keys of the piano. (While this does
not indicate their absolute pitch, it represents the relative pitch
at which they appear as part of the entire system, or 'foundation
scale,’ of the Greeks, illustrated on page 103.) By a transposition of
the tetrachord divisions of each of these scales, the Greeks obtained
two additional scales out of each of the above three. These derived
scales were denoted by the prefixes _hypo_ and _hyper_ (low and high),
respectively:
Hypodorian (Like Hyperphrygian) Hyperdorian
/━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\
A B c d e f g a b c´ d´ e´ f´ g´ a´ b´
╲▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁╱
Dorian
Hypophrygian (Like Hyperlydian) Hyperphrygian (Like Hypodorian)
/━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\
G A B c d e f g a b c´ d´ e´ f´ g´ a´
╲▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁╱
Phrygian
Hypolydian Hyperlydian (Like Hypophrygian)
/━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\
F G A B c d e f a b c´ d´ e´ f´ g´
╲▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁╱
Lydian
(It is evident from this table that the Hypodorian corresponds to the
Hyperphrygian, and the Hypophrygian to the Hyperlydian; hence there are
only seven _different_ modes.)
A common relationship was thus clearly recognized between the three
scales of each group, which may be thought of as having one common
tonic. It may be noted, however, that the Hypodorian probably had an
independent existence before being associated with the Dorian, as
is indicated by its own ethnological name of 'Æolian,’ and as such
was supposed to be of great antiquity. The Hyperdorian enjoyed an
independent existence as 'Mixolydian.’ Its invention has been variously
ascribed to Sappho, Damon and Pythocleides.
We have seen how, by joining two tetrachords, the Greeks constructed
their Dorian scale (octachord). By joining _additional_ tetrachords to
this scale at either end they obtained their double octave scale or
'Perfect Immutable System’:
[Illustration: Music]
It should be noted, however, that the new tetrachords are added
_conjunctively_, i. e., so that one of their notes (e) coincides with
the terminal notes of the original octave, while the two tetrachords
making up that octave were placed in juxtaposition with a whole
tone step between them. This was called the tone of disjunction
(_diezeuxis_). For purposes of modulation (_metabole_) they now laid
across the middle of this system an additional diatonic tetrachord
(from d to a) in such a way that one of its tones (b♭) came half way
between the two notes of the _diezeuxis_.[37] The low A was added to
round out the octave. (It is a curious fact that what we call _low_ the
Greeks called _high_ and _vice versa_.) The two tetrachords _Meson_ and
_Hypaton_, together with the conjunctive (_Synemmenon_), were also
considered as an independent system called the Lesser Perfect System.
The relation of these systems as well as the names of the individual
notes are set forth on the accompanying table.
DOUBLE OCTAVE SCALE, or PERFECT IMMUTABLE SYSTEM
╱ ╱Nete hyperbolaion a
{ { Tone
{ {Paranete g
{ {hyperbolaion
{Tetrachordon { Tone
{Hyperbolaion {Trite hyperbolaion f
{ { Semitone
{ ╲Nete Diezeugmenon e
{ / \
{ ╱ Tone / \ Diezeuxis ╲
{ {Paranete d d Nete } ╲
{ {Diezeugmenon Synemmenon } }
{Tetrachordon { Tone Tone } Tetrachordon}
{Diezeugmenon {Trite c c Paranete } Synemmenon }
{ {Diezeugmenon Synemmenon } }
{ { Semitone Tone } }
{ ╲Paramese b b♭Trite Synemmenon } }
{ Diezeuxis \ / Semitone ╱ }
The { ╱ a Mese ╲ }The
Greater { { Tone } }Lesser
Perfect { Tetrachordon { G Lichanos Meson }Tetrachordon }Perfect
System { Meson { Tone }Meson }System
{ { F Parhypate Meson } }
{ { Semitone } }
{ ╲ E Hypate Meson ╱ }
{ ╱ Tone ╲ }
{ { D Lichanos Hypaton }Tetrachordon }
{ Tetrachordon { Tone }Hypaton }
{ Hypaton { C Parhypate Hypaton } }
{ { Semitone } }
{ { B Hypate Hypaton ╱ ╱
{ ╲
╲ A Proslambanomenos
By carving out of the Greater Perfect System (which we may call simply
the Complete System) overlapping octave sections, each beginning on
a different note, the Greek theorists found these to correspond in
their intervals to each of the seven different modes, as follows: Thus
all scales came to be thought of theoretically as transpositions of
the corresponding octave sections in the Complete System (Foundation
Scale). Indeed, the entire _system_ was considered as transposed and
the individual tones retained their names regardless of pitch, i. e.,
in the Dorian mode the _mese_ would always be the fourth note from the
bottom, in the Phrygian the fifth, etc.
[Illustration: Music]
As an example, let us transpose the Foundation Scale one tone above its
natural pitch:
[Illustration: Music]
The middle octave will now be seen to be Phrygian (corresponding to
No. 3 above) instead of Dorian as before. Now in their system of
transposition scales (in reality transposed Complete Systems) the
Greeks gave to every scale the name corresponding to the mode of its
middle octave. Before the time of Aristoxenus only seven of these
transposition scales, or keys ([Greek: tonoi]) were in use. That
theoretician eventually rounded out the scheme to eighteen (of which
six appear in modern notation as duplicates or octave transpositions).
He did this systematically by taking the interval of the perfect fifth
as a basis and building on each semi-tone degree a group of three
scales (natural, hypo, and hyper). As there were not enough of the
original modes to supply names for all of the new scales, it was,
of course, necessary to invent arbitrary names for the superfluous
ones. By this achievement it was possible to transpose a melody into
any one of the eighteen (or really twelve) keys without changing its
modal character. We may therefore assume with some justification that
Aristoxenus’ system in a way did for the Greeks what our own equal
temperament has done for modern music.
We end our brief sketch of Greek theory at this point, which may
be assumed as the highest development of the system. Later systems
were either based on Aristoxenus or were of reactionary nature. We
must, however, for a moment retrace our steps to explain briefly
the achievements of an earlier theoretician, the great philosopher
Pythagoras, in the field of musical acoustics.
IV
Like many of the ancient philosophers, Pythagoras (_ca._ 600 B.
C.) is known only by his disciples and by their quotations from or
commentaries on his teaching. Of these the most important are Archytas
(400-365 B. C.) and the great mathematician Euclid (_ca._ 300 B. C),
though there is some reason to suppose the part of Euclid’s work
dealing with music to have been written by Cleonides (_ca._ 200 B. C.)
and by the later Pythagorean Nichomachus (_ca._ 150 A. D.).
In Hierocles’ Commentaries on the 'Symbols’ and 'Golden Verses’ of
Pythagoras, M. Dacier, the translator, amplifies the prefatory Life
of Pythagoras found in Hierocles, and he recounts, as Gaudentius,
Nichomachus, Macrobius, Boëtius, and others have recounted, the
incident which drew the attention of the ancient founder of the great
system of secret numbers to the numerical relations of Sound in Music.
The quaint old story is as follows: 'Pythagoras is honored with the
Invention of Harmonical Measures; and ’tis related how it happened.
They write, that one Day, after he had been meditating a long while
on the Means of assisting the Hearing, as he had already found means
of assisting the Sight, by the Rule, Compass, Astrolabe and other
Instruments, and the Feeling, by the Balance and the Measures, he
chanced to go by a Smith’s Shop, and heard several Hammers of different
Sizes, beating Iron upon the Anvil. He was moved with the Justness of
the Harmony, and going into the Shop, he examined the Hammers and their
sound in regard to their Sizes; and, being returned home, he made an
Instrument on the Wall of his Chamber, with Stakes that served for
pegs and with strings of equal length, at the end of which he tied the
different Weights, and by striking several of these strings at once
he produced different Tones, and thereby learnt the Reasons of this
different Harmony, and of the intervals that caused it.’
In general it may be pointed out that the Pythagorean system of
harmonics was only incidental to philosophy. Thus Laloy, speaking of
the musical system of Pythagoras, says: 'One finds, amid their confused
accounts and contradictory assertions, a body of rules and precepts
which present a “Pythagoric life,” as there was an “Orphic life,” in
which justice, order, friendship, abstinence, geometry, and music are
an integral part ... even metempsychosis itself being merely the truth
inherent in a number.’
The monochord, a single string stretched over a sliding bridge, was
the basis of the acoustical experiments of Pythagoras. By shifting
the position of the bridge he varied the pitch of this string. His
great discovery, that which has rightly caused him to be regarded as
the founder of a branch of acoustics, was that between the respective
lengths of stretched strings which gave the three consonances of
octave, fifth and fourth, there existed certain essentially simple
relations, as follows: the octave was in the relation of a string
of one half the length or double the length; in other words, the
relation of 2/1; the fifth was in the relation of 3/2; and the fourth
in the relation of 4/3. These intervals, apparently on account of
the simplicity of their mathematical relationship, were henceforth
regarded as consonant. All other intervals were dissonant, at any rate
in theory. The essential difference between the mathematical theory of
sound ratios as held by the Pythagoreans and that held in modern times
lies in the conception of the Third. To the Greeks such an interval was
entirely dissonant, not necessarily because it was displeasing to the
ear, but because they either did not recognize its ratio as 4/5 or did
not deem this ratio to fit in with the highly abstruse theology they
had built up on other numerical ratios. The step of the Fifth was to
the Pythagoreans not merely the fundamental, but also the only, basis
for the determination of tone ratios, whereas to-day the Third and
sometimes even the Seventh are taken into account.
As to the value that Pythagoras attached to these fundamentals, we may
quote Hierocles: 'Pythagoras,’ he says, 'has a very particular Opinion
concerning Musick, which nevertheless the Masters of that Science,
after they have duly weigh’d it, will find Just and Reasonable. He
condemned and rejected all judgment that was made of Musick by the ear:
because he found the Sense of Hearing to be already so weaken’d and
decay’d, that it was no longer able to judge aright. He would have Men
therefore judge of it by the Understanding, and by the analogical and
proportionable Harmony. This in my opinion was to show that the Beauty
of Musick is independent of the Tune that strikes the Ear, and consists
only in the Reason, in the confirmity and in the Proportion, of which
the Understanding is the only Judge.’ And he adds this remark: 'As to
what he said, that the Sense of Hearing was become weak and impotent,
it agrees with this other Assertion of his, that the reason why Men did
not hear the Musick of the Universe was the weakness and imbecility of
their Nature, which they had corrupted and suffered to degenerate.’
The error of the Pythagoreans, it may be pointed out, did not lie in
the misuse of experimental data, but in the philosophical deductions
therefrom. To the followers of Pythagoras a harmonic consonance was
not a perception, it was a thing the existence of which could be
conceived independently, a thing as real as the string which had given
it birth. Sound was to them, therefore, a distinct identity, possessing
attributes pertaining only to itself, yet susceptible of impression
from without; it was a number realized and concrete, a number simple
and all-inclusive, but, above all, a series of numbers possessing a
personality, the veiling power of which both illumined and obscured
a myriad symbolisms. Strict Harmonic Consonance was the utmost of
numerical potency, it was a divine thought, not embodied Being. How
deeply this was felt to be a truth by the Pythagoreans is evidenced by
the story told of the death of Pythagoras, when the great philosopher,
turning to his disciples, gave as his last instruction “Always the
monochord!”
As for the value of the Pythagorean school as a whole, it is manifest
that it must be considered as a group of mystical speculators,
professing to be students of music and claiming Pythagoras as their
master, but, in actual verity, doing little more than reducing sounds
to air vibrations and ascertaining the numerical relations of pitch.
Lovers of music they were not, they were mathematical precisians,
perceiving no beauty and hearing no inspiration in melodic sounds
except in such wise as these fitted into an ordered sequence of
arithmetical form.
The development of the Pythagorean school was rendered all the more
self-centred by the vitality and strength of the Empiricists. This
flourishing school of musical art was concerned with arbitrary
regulations as to the most acceptable forms of composition. The
Empiricists determined what melodies were suitable to certain
instruments. They debarred the flute from certain festivals and
admitted it to others, they decided upon the forms of construction of
musical instruments, and, above all, they insisted upon the performance
of certain compositions in the traditional style. While not avowedly
hostile to the Pythagoreans, the Empirical school paid little heed
to the mathematical speculations of the learned, and song and dance
continued because music was an art. Great as was the symbolic majesty
of the Monochord, the surging strain of the lyre meant infinitely more
to the life of Ancient Greece.
The second great development of Greek musical philosophy is that of
Aristoxenus (b. 354 B. C.), whose systemization of the transposition
scales has already been mentioned. If Pythagoras established some of
the fundamental rules of acoustics, Aristoxenus may be given the credit
of establishing Musical Science; the former was a branch of a science,
the second was the science of an art.
To put the essential principles of Aristoxenus in the simplest possible
form it may be said that he established two principal rules: (1) that
music accepts Sound as sounds heard by the ear, and that the science
of music must be built upon the foundation of sounds that are heard;
(2) that sound-functions exist, possessing properties of sonance not
directly reducible to any simple or elemental numerical ratio. The
work of Aristoxenus was a revolution in musical philosophy based upon
the principle of music as an organic whole of sounds bearing a dynamic
relation each to the other. Aristotle had not been able to break away
from the old Pythagorean conception, but Aristoxenus brushed away the
misty speculations of morality, the mathematical entanglements and the
musty formalism that surround the music of his time and set himself to
answer the one vital question: Why does Music employ certain sounds and
reject certain others?
The third stage of development of Greek music may be represented by
Claudius Ptolemy, who lived in the second century of the _Christian_
era. He may, with considerable authority, be deemed the inventor of
the first interpreter of the equal tempered scale. R. C. Phillips
has thrown considerable light upon the disputed questions involved
in this matter, and to his monograph on the 'Harmonic Tetrachords of
Claudius Ptolemy’ (1904) we may refer the reader desirous of detailed
information. Leaving the question of theory, we now proceed to pick up
the thread of mythical story and trace what we can of the history of
Greek composition.
V
All legendary references to the prehistoric era of Greek music point
to its importation into Hellas by various artists, partly from the
North (Thessaly and Thrace) and partly from the East (Asia Minor). In
this we see probably nothing more than a racial recollection of the
Dorian migration, which, as we know, took place about the year 1104
B. C. Orpheus, of whom we have already spoken, must be counted among
the Northerners, the Thracians, for his native place was Pieria at the
foot of Mt. Olympus. His pupil, Musaios, was supposed to have lived in
Athens, and his son Eumolpos was the progenitor of the famous family
of priests and singers which were entrusted perpetually with the rites
of the Eleusinian mysteries, sacred to Demeter. Amphion, another of
the Northern artists (the miraculous builder of the walls of Thebes),
is described by Pausanias (Græco-Roman historian, 2d Cent., A. D.) as
a relative of Tantalos of Lydia, and to have brought from there the
Lydian mode. He is also credited with having increased the lyre from
four to seven strings. Heraclides Ponticus calls him the founder of
the _kitharœdic_ school of poetry, which was governed by a method and
laws distinct from the _auletic_ school, associated with the aulos,
the Grecian flute, from which it took its name. The regulation of the
cult of Apollo at Delphi is ascribed to Philammon, whose son Thamyris,
a native of the more uncultured regions of Thrace, was said to have
challenged the muses to contest, and to have been punished for this
offense with blindness.
Thus the North was, as we have seen, the home of the kitharœdic muse;
Phrygia, on the other hand, must be considered as the cradle of the
auletic school, of which the most prominent early names are Hyagnis,
Marsyas, and Olympus, the three oldest players upon the flute. The
first of these was said to be the inventor of that art. Marsyas was
his son and first disciple, while Olympus introduced the art into
Greece and became the first Hellenic master of artistic instrumental
music.[38]
The first distinct period of musical composition is that of the _nomoi_
(_sing._ _nomos_; Gr. [Greek: nomos] = law), a certain type of melodies
constructed according to fixed rules, which were sung as solos to
verses whose subject was usually the praise of some god. (The singers
performing them were known as _aœds_ and later as rhapsodists.) The
earliest _nomoi_ were melodies of very simple structure, but from the
first there is a distinction between the kitharœdic and auletic types,
the first of which is supposed to have followed the Homeric hexameter
(iambic metre), and the latter to have been based on the elegiac
measures, offering, however, a considerable variety of rhythm.
The pioneer representatives of these two opposing schools were,
respectively, Olympus, already familiar to us, and Terpander, both
of whom belong to the seventh century B. C. Concerning Olympus’ art
a startling assertion is found in Plutarch. He was regarded by Greek
musicians as the originator of the enharmonic genus. Upon clearer
examination, it has been found that this use of the word 'enharmonic’
does not coincide with the sense in which it is used above, where we
explained the three _genera_ of tetrachords. The quarter-tone division
is, indeed, a much later product and does not seem ever to have
attained to great popularity. The enharmonic scale of Olympus simply
consisted of the diatonic _with a step omitted_, so as to avoid all
semi-tone intervals in the melodies. This elided tone was probably the
Lichanos of the Phrygian scale ([Greek: harmonia]), or f, if we take
the octave from d to d´ on the white keys of the piano. The Phrygian
was naturally the scale used by Olympus, whose home was Phrygia, but
he is also said to have introduced this 'enharmonic’ type of melody
into the Dorian mode. When the full octachord came into consideration
(originally the scale was limited to seven notes) the omission of the
upper tone of the higher semi-tone interval (from b to c) followed as
a matter of course. Thus Terpander’s 'enharmonic’ scale is seen to be
simply a sort of pentatonic system, the antiquity of which is already
evident from our examination of primitive music.
Little is known of Olympus’ life. What part of Greece he inhabited we
are not told. It seems certain that he practised his art in the service
of Apollo. About one hundred years before the beginning of the Pythic
games at Delphi he composed a song describing the fight of Apollo with
the dragon, which afterward became known as the _Nomos Pythicos_, and
which, as we have seen, was regularly performed upon the first day of
the Pythic festivals.[39]
Of Terpander, however, the first of the _kitharœdic_ nome writers, we
have many isolated details, both of legend and fact. There is a story
that the lyre of Orpheus was carried on the waves of the sea from
the Thracian coast to Antissa on Lesbos, where Terpander was born.
Orpheus is, indeed, the singer whom Terpander was said to emulate,
while Olympus was supposed to follow the models of Homer. Terpander
was the first victor in the Spartan _Carneata_ (festival in honor of
Apollo), which began during the twenty-sixth Olympiad. This indicates
his settling in Sparta, which is further confirmed by Plutarch, who
in his _De musica_ calls him the chief representative of the first
period in which Sparta flourished musically. Plutarch also records the
legend that he successfully subdued a revolt of the Lacedemonians by
the power of his music. To us the most important item of Terpander’s
achievements is the addition of the eighth string to the lyre
(_kithara_), thus completing the octave.
The next musician of extraordinary importance was Archilochos of
Paraos, whose period has been fixed as 675-630. His popularity seems
to have surpassed that of any other except Homer, with whom he was
equal in the estimation of the ancients. His literary merit consists
of the introduction into artistic poetry of the iambic and trochaic
trimeter and tetrameter and the origination of the strophic form, by
the alternation of shorter verses of different rhythm with longer
ones. Similarly, his great _musical_ achievement is the introduction
of rhythmical change and the use of faster time. In using shorter
measures he endowed his compositions with a certain folk-quality which,
combined with the element of satire and fable, quickly brought them
into popular favor. Archilochos was a pugnacious, combative character;
he had taken part in the wars on Eubœa and found his death in a warlike
exploit on Nasos. His invective and satirical poems were a totally
new departure in Greek poetry. A peculiar practice, which in a sense
survives in the method of our musical comedians, was introduced by
Archilochos for humoristic effect, i. e., the interrupting of the song
proper by the spoken word, followed by a return to the melody after a
brief instrumental interlude. This was known as _paracataloge_. Its
use was later transferred to the serious ode and even the tragedy.
A reference in Plutarch to Archilochos’ accompaniments 'under the
vocal part, whereas the old ones sang everything in unison’ has
aroused considerable controversy. We shall dismiss it with the
well-supported conclusion of Riemann, that it does not point to any
form of heterophony, but to certain methods of interluding, rhythmical
ornamentation and playing in the upper octave (flageolet).
The strophic forms of Archilochos constituted the preliminary steps
toward the development of lyric poetry, which, founded in the seventh
century, 'raised its graceful structure in the sixth.’ Alkman and
Stesichoros furnish the transition to this subjective school, whose
disciples are essentially the celebrants of love and wine. According to
dialects it falls into three divisions--the Ionian, Dorian, and Æolian.
The last, rooted in the kitharœdic school of Terpander, finds in its
Lesbian home its first exponents--Alkaios and Sappho.
Alkaios (625-575 B. C.), son of a noble family of Mitylene, composed
no less than ten books of sacred hymns and drinking, love, and war
songs, in which the predominating note is the hate of tyranny and
the joys of the banquet. His contemporary, Sappho, whose verses are
likewise full of passion and pathos, takes flaming love as her theme,
and a number of other Greek women poets of the sixth century follow
her example. 'The poems of Alkaios and Sappho are the most melodious
of Greek creations.... Their fluent strophes, so easily subjected to
musical treatment, have not only in antiquity but throughout a series
of centuries been regarded as a fixed form’ (cf. the Odes of Horace).
Ibykos and Anakreon, both living in the second half of the sixth
century, belong to the same category. Both were wandering singers. The
former is known to us through Schiller’s poem perpetuating the legend
of the cranes; the latter is still a byword for the joy of life and the
praise of love, wine, and song.
A group of auletic musicians living in the seventh century, to which
belonged Xenokritos, Polymnestos, and Thaletas, is credited with
new developments in the musical practice of Sparta, which were soon
transferred to the other Hellenic states as well. This great and
far-reaching innovation was the introduction of the choral dances.
The cradle of the dance was said to be the island of Crete. Thence
came Thaletas, the most important of the group of composers just
mentioned. His fame reached the Spartans, who summoned him to organize
a _Pæan_ in honor of Apollo, in order to allay the pest,[40] and this
inaugurated his extended activity in Sparta, where he introduced
also the _pyrrhic_ ([Greek: pyrrhíchê]), a rapidly moving dance, and
the _gymnopædia_ ([Greek: gymnopaidia]) festival dances performed
annually in honor of those who fell at Thyrea. In the regular order
of gymnastic dance education the last named were first, then came
the _pyrrhics_, and finally the 'stage dances,’ including the famous
_hyporchemas_--pantomimic dances--which doubtless were a development in
the direction of the drama.
According to a description of Athenæus the _gymnopædias_ resembled
the regular wrestling of the palæstra, for all the young boys danced
naked and executed rhythmic body motions and responsive movements of
the hands. The _pyrrhic_, which, according to Aristoxenus, was not an
importation but of native Spartan origin, was a sort of war dance,
which later, however, took on a bacchic character, rods and torches
displacing the spears. It is recorded that marching songs, accompanied
by rhythmic motions, were popular in Sparta from early times, and in
the second Messenian war (685 B. C.) inspired the warriors to victory.
The word _hyporchema_, defined as a pantomimic dance, 'in its narrowest
sense signifies the pantomimic representation of the action described
by the words’ (Athenæus, i. 15). The same authority says that 'while
the chorus danced, it sang’ and that 'some of the hymns were danced
and some were not, just as the Pæans were sung either with or without
dancing.’ Among the hyporchemas are also included a great number of
individual actions which made up the ceremonial of the great religious
festivals and games, such as the gathering of the laurels for the
victor, the garnering of the grapes, the bringing in of the tripod. To
them belong also the so-called 'Prosodies,’ sung to the accompaniment
of the aulos during the processional into the temple or the approach to
and withdrawal from the altar. All choral dancing was of course closely
associated with music. And, while the monodic forms of composition
continued to flourish, choral music came to stand highest in the public
favor. The charm of variety afforded by a combination of the two was,
moreover, quickly recognized.
The development of this choral music was the particular mission of a
school of lyricists no less celebrated than the Æolian--namely, the
Dorian. It was considered the highest form of lyricism. Larger periods
and great variety, instead of short and regular strophes, distinguish
its form, while its spiritual import is correspondingly broader.
The _hymnæ_ (bridal choruses); the _scolia_ (praising a celebrated
personality), out of which grew the encomium (song of praise), and
the _epinikion_, sung in praise of the victors at the great festival
games, are said to have introduced the softer, subjective, essentially
lyrical element into the chorus. The dithyramb, originally a Bacchic
festival song in honor of the god of wine (Dionysos), represents the
highest of lyric choral forms. It originated in Phrygia, was developed
artistically by Arion, living at the court of Periander in Corinth
(628-585 B. C.), but was cultivated principally at Athens, first
through Lasos of Hermione. Arion was the first to assemble a large
chorus--50 men and boys--forming a circle around the altar of Dionysos,
with a flute player in the centre. Before him Tyrtæus (685 B. C.)
was said to have originated the division of the chorus into three
parts--'children, men, and old men’--but earlier than that we learn
from Pollux of the partition of the chorus into two semi-choirs, which
sang in responsive or antiphonary manner.
Simonides of Keos and Pindar are the chief figures of choral lyricism.
The former, born on the isle of Keos (Ionia), lived first at the
court of Hipparch in Athens, after whose assassination he went to
Thessaly. After the battle of Marathon (490) he reappeared at Athens
with an elegy upon the fallen warriors, which left him victor over
Æschylus, the founder of the drama. He also won the dithyrambic
contest in 471, and he died at the court of Hierons of Syracuse.
The reproach of commercialism, made against Simonides because of
his acceptance of favors and pay at the hand of rulers, reminds one
of present-day criticism. In contrast to him, Pindar (522-448), the
illustrious master, revered not less than Homer himself, was a retiring
personality, 'living for himself rather than others.’ He was born at
Thebes. His life story has been embellished with legend and fiction,
indicating the nation’s affection for him. He participated frequently
in the national festivals and, it is related, found his death on the
stage of the theatre at Argos. His works combine no less than seventeen
books containing hymns, pæans, dithyrambs, _parthenias_, _hyporchemas_,
encomiums, _thernoi epinikia_, and other forms, all intended for choral
performance. His first Pythic ode is among the six fragments of Greek
music preserved to us.
We must now consider what is perhaps the greatest and the most original
creation of the Greek mind--the drama. Its forms we have seen in lyric
poetry and in pantomimic dances of the chorus, furnishing the elements
of dialogue and representative action. These forms are to be found
independently among other nations of antiquity, but their combination
is peculiar to the Greeks, to whom the entire world is indebted for
the art of the theatre. Like the dithyrambic chorus, whose close
connection with the worship of Dionysos we have observed, the drama
was perpetually associated with these Bacchic festivals. The very name
tragedy (from [Greek: tragos] = goat) indicates its root form--the
satyr play, executed by men disguised with fur skin and the cloven hoof
to represent the votaries of the God. Here is added another element
of the drama--impersonation--though earlier cases of it are seen, for
instance, in the disguise of the poet Chrysothemis as the god Apollo,
when performing his compositions. Allegory and symbolism were things to
which the Greek mind naturally inclined. Mythological conceptions were
often visualized, such as the favorite fight of Apollo and the dragon,
the myth of Demeter and Persephone represented in the Eleusinian
mysteries, etc. The word [Greek: dran] is the general expression for
secret action in the Pagan cult, hence in the antique drama, no less
than our own opera, we may recognize a sacred origin (cf. Chap. XI,
p. 325). The dithyrambic chorus, whose members themselves are thought
to have been disguised as satyrs, furnished the last preparatory step
leading to the tragedy, which, it should be noted, gradually developed
out of the non-choral sections, the solo speeches of the leaders.[41]
Similarly, the Comedy had its beginning in the rather coarse witticisms
of the choral leaders in the Bacchic processions of the Dionysos
festival (cf. Aristotle, 'Poetics,’ 4).
The first real dramatist was Thespis, who, in 536 B. C., was summoned
to Athens by the Pisistratides to produce a tragedy in which for the
first time there appeared an actor outside of the chorus. It developed
rapidly from then on--we need only mention the introduction of
the comedy by Epicharmos (540-450) and its official sanctioning in
Athens in 487. Phrynichos, the greatest dramatist before Æschylus,
is remembered by the performance of the 'Fall of Milet’ for which,
because it reminded the Athenians of their defeat, he was punished,
and the political tragedy henceforth forbidden. The names of the three
greatest tragic poets, Æschylus (525-456), Sophocles (496-406), and
Euripides (450-395), are too well known to require comment. Our present
task is simply to point out the important part which music played in
their works. The parallel frequently drawn between the modern opera or
music drama on the one hand, and the classic tragedy on the other, we
may dismiss with the statement of Riemann, that 'the classic tragedy
was a drama in which music as such coöperated, while in the modern
(music drama) music occupies an eminently dominating place.’ We might
add that, whereas we speak, for instance, of Wagner as being his own
librettist, we might say of Euripides that he supplied his own music
for his drama.
The three elements of modern opera--soloists, chorus, and
orchestra--were, indeed, represented in the classic drama. The soloists
were the actors (who _sang_ most of their speeches) and the chorus
leader with his assistants, who were sometimes drafted to the stage
proper, to take part in the action. The chorus consisted of fifteen
members in the tragedy, twenty-four in the comedy. It was placed on a
lower eminence than the principals (on the 'orchestra’) and represented
at first (with Æschylus and Sophocles) the 'moral consciousness of
the people.’ Later, with Euripides, its contemplative function was
superseded by its actual participation in the action as a mob. It sang
together--or _tutti_, as we would say--the _parados_ and _aphodos_,
the processional and recessional choruses--for which the chorus
was sometimes divided into sections, appearing one after the other,
as, for instance, in the 'Seven against Thebes,’ and the _stasima_,
interspersed through the action. The choral dance of the tragedy,
festive and stately, was called _emmeleia_; that of the satyr play,
grotesque and rapid, the _sikinnis_, and the lampooning, lascivious
dance of the comedy, _cordax_. The 'orchestra’ consisted of one simple
flute player, who used the double _aulos_. This was traditionally
the characteristic 'orgiastic’ instrument. The kithara, despite its
popularity in other uses, was never admitted to the tragedy. The chief
function of the flute may have been to keep the chorus 'in tune,’
but it is certain that it played interludes, etc., and at times solo
numbers, for we know that aulos playing had become a highly developed
technical practice, and that aulos virtuosi achieved great reputations
and were highly esteemed.
This leads us to the question of instrumental practice in general, the
brief consideration of which is our next task.
VI
One of the most ancient musical controversies was that regarding the
respective merits of wind and string instruments. How it resulted in
a most important victory for the latter is revealed in the partly
mythical story of Marsyas, a Phrygian satyr. According to this legend
Marsyas found upon the banks of a stream a flute, probably the double
flute, which Athena had thrown away because she feared that blowing
upon it would injure her beauty. Being a satyr, and therefore not
so sensitive upon the point of personal attractions as the goddess,
Marsyas set himself to learn the use of the instrument, and, in course
of time, grew so proficient that he challenged Apollo to a contest,
the god to use the lyre, the satyr the pipe. Apollo played a simple
melody, but Marsyas, following, executed a number of variations upon
this tune which compelled the judge to admit that in the first test
victory belonged to the satyr. Apollo then played again, accompanying
himself with the voice, and this Marsyas could not surpass; he
objected, however, on the ground that the voice and the lyre were two
instruments, while he was using only one. Apollo retorted that Marsyas
used both mouth and fingers for his pipe, hence he had the right to use
his mouth as well. The judges agreed with Apollo and the second test
was awarded to the god. But when the third test came Apollo scorned to
use the voice, and burst out in such a strain of melody as even Mount
Olympus had never heard before, the music of the immortals which no
satyr could hope to compass. Marsyas was flayed alive by Apollo as a
sufficient declaration of his defeat.
Thus the myth. It has its reflection in fact. For the ancient national
music of the lyre prevailed in Greece over the foreign Phrygian double
flute and the latter was regarded as a barbarian instrument, finding
its place only in vintage festivals, bacchanalian orgies, and, finally,
into the chorus of the tragic drama.
The lyre and the aulos, then, are the arch-types of the two great
classes of instruments--string and wind--which the Greeks used.
That there were a great number of varieties we gather from their
representation on monuments, vases, etc., and from the writings of
classic authors. Taking the string instruments as the oldest--for
mythical references to these go farthest back into antiquity--we find
first the lyre, and then its more graceful sister, the _kithara_ (or
_phorminx_), which were in common use in the north, on the islands and
the coast of Asia Minor. The lyre, originally made of the shell of a
tortoise, had an arched soundbox, while the kithara’s was flat; the
latter’s body was larger and more angular in shape. Both had originally
four, subsequently seven, strings, which were added to in later periods
till eleven was reached. These were fastened in a base at the lower
end of the instrument and ran across a 'bridge’ to the cross-piece
connecting the two arms, which acted also as tuning peg. The sounding
board had in the centre a resonance opening.
[Illustration: THE CONTEST BETWEEN APOLLO AND MARYSAS.]
_Ancient Greek frieze after Baumeister._
The Asiatic form of kithara became popular throughout Greece as
a consequence of the work of Terpander’s school and attained the
leading rank as the Greek concert instrument, employed by professional
players exclusively, while the primitive lyre was relegated to the
use of amateurs and domestic purposes. With its full complement
of strings music in all the modes could be played upon it without
especially tuning the individual strings. The relative pitch of the
string was based on the Dorian mode in the middle octave (e to e´),
but for greater brilliancy of effect virtuosi preferred the higher
transpositions, so that finally the instrument was accordingly tuned as
follows:
[Illustration: Music]
By special technical practice the higher octave (flageolet) could also
be produced. The manner of playing was probably as follows: The left
arm held the instrument close to the body by means of a sling, while
the right, by means of a plectrum with arrow-shaped ends, plucked the
strings from the outside. This left the fingers of the left hand free
to touch the strings from the body side. It is thought that this was
done as accompaniment (in unison) to the voice, while the right played
the solo selections, interludes, etc.
Most prominent among other forms of string instruments was the
_magadis_, a larger harp-like instrument with twenty strings, which was
played without plectrum, and, if we read ancient writers correctly, in
octaves.[42] Likewise the _barbiton_ (similar to the _kithara_), the
harp-like _pectis_, _simikion_, and _epigoneion_, and the lute-like
_pandura_ and _nabla_ (of archaic origin), were played without
plectrum, as indeed the lyre and kithara were also played in earliest
times. The harp, though known to the Greeks, was not used by them.
There only remains to mention the monochord, an instrument of one
string stretched over a soundbox, which could be arbitrarily divided by
a movable 'bridge.’ It was used purely for experimental purposes, as
we have already seen. Later it was constructed with several strings in
order to demonstrate the consonance of intervals; in modern times it
became the basis from which the clavichord, and finally the piano, was
evolved.
The chief Greek _wind_ instrument, as already indicated, was the
_aulos_, or flute--not, however, a flute in the modern sense, but a
reed instrument resembling an oboe, and having a double reed. It was
often used in pairs, of equal intonation, but of different size, the
larger instrument playing the soli, the smaller the accompaniment. The
aulos had as many as fifteen or sixteen holes, but not sufficient to
produce all the chromatic degrees of the scale, which, as well as the
different _genera_, were produced by half stops and similar technical
manipulations. There were also rings attached near the holes, by the
turning of which the pitch could be altered. Overblowing was also
practised, by means of a small hole (syrinx) near the mouthpiece. There
was a whole family of _auloi_ corresponding to the varying ranges of
the human voice. The entire compass from the lowest note of the bass
aulos to the highest of the soprano was three octaves. It is recorded
that _auloi_ were tuned differently according to the various modes,
and that players were usually equipped with an entire set of seven.
Other wind instruments used by the Greeks were the Libyan flute
(played sideways), the _elymos_, and the _syrinx_--the familiar
'pipes of Pan’--consisting of a number of rush reeds of different
lengths fastened together with wax. Trumpets, straight (_sapinx_) and
crooked horn-like (_keras_), were also common as instruments of war
and priestly ceremony. The former variety even attained the rank of a
contest (agonistic) instrument. A female exponent of Sapinx playing is
recorded in the person of Aglais, the daughter of Megalocles.
* * * * *
A few words will suffice to indicate the nature of Greek musical
notation. Instrumental notation differed from vocal and was of earlier
origin. Characters of archaic form (Phœnician) were used to indicate
the notes, though not in a definite alphabetic order. They are also
used in inverted or distorted forms to indicate minute variations, i.
e., the three notes of a Pyknon (the short step of the tetrachord) were
indicated by a certain sign in different positions, thus: [music sign],
[music sign], and [music sign]. In vocal notation the regular Greek
alphabet was employed from Α to Ω to represent the notes of the middle
octave (including every step necessary to the production of the various
modes and _genera_.) The higher octave was indicated by an '_octava_
sign.’
Rhythm was usually not noted, being determined by the metre of the
verse, but a code which determined the proportion of sound duration
was sometimes used. The norm or unit in that system was denoted by the
absence of any sign, its double by [music sign], its triple by [music
sign], quadruple by [music sign], and quintuple by [music sign]. Rests
were indicated thus: [music sign]. All of these signs were, like our
modern notes, set _over the text_. While the system was thoroughly
worked out in its technical details, its cumbersomeness would suggest
that in practice it was of less use than in theoretical exposition. No
wonder, then, that few compositions were, as far as we know, actually
written down, and of those only six are preserved to us. These are as
follows:
1. The beginning of the first Pythic ode of Pindar.
2. Three hymns of Mesomedes ('To the Muse,’ 'To Helios,’ and 'To
Nemesis’) discovered by Vincenzo Galilei (see Chap. IX).
3. Some small instrumental exercises, analyzed by Bellermann (1841).
4. The Epitaph of Seikilos (discovered 1883).
5. Two complete Apollo Hymns of the second century B. C., found
chiselled in stone in the Athenian treasury at Delphi.
6. A Fragment of the first _Stasimon_ from Euripides’ 'Orestes’
(found 1892).
The Hymn to the Muse by Mesomedes (No. 2) is reproduced at the end of
this article.
This necessarily brief sketch will have acquainted the reader with
the most salient facts concerning Greek music--lost as an art, but
perpetuated as a science. Many volumes have been written upon the
subject, but much more than these facts cannot possibly be adduced
except by long and arduous study. For our present purpose may it
suffice to convey to the reader that here for the first time music has
attained the dignity of an art, with all its æsthetic, emotional and
moral significance, with its complicated theory, its sophisticated
technique, consciously employed to give pleasure and to uplift the
mind of man. Mechanical limitations and peculiar conditions prevented
the development of this art in the modern sense, but its theory has
without doubt given a definite direction to modern music. Not only the
musical teaching of the early church fathers, but the speculations of
theorists down to comparatively modern times, and the principles of
the Renaissance masters were based on those of the Greeks, however much
misunderstood. Perhaps it is not out of place to recall, in conclusion,
how modern composers have been inspired by the stories of classic
antiquity and beguiled by the music of Greek poetry. Modern music,
disconnected from all that may have been the music of the older nations
of antiquity, is a lineal descendant of the music of the Greeks.
[Illustration: HYMN TO THE MUSE by MESOMEDES.]
Άειδε Μούσά μοι φίλη,
μολπής δ’ εμής κατάρχου,
αύρη δε σων απ’ άλσεων
εμάς φρένας δονείτω.
Καλλιόπεια σοφά,
Μουσών προκαθαγέτι τερπνών,
και σοφέ Μυστοδότα,
Λατούς γόνε, Δήλιε, Παιάν,
ευμενείς πάρεστέ μοι.
C. S.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] Imitation ([Greek: monsikhê]) is a term commonly applied to the
fine arts.
[33] Harmony here does not mean polyphony or heterophony, as will be
seen hereafter.
[34] These poet-singers, indeed, _chanted_ their verses--perhaps not
to fixed melodies, but according to a recognized style of cantilation
which varied according to the different species of poetry, and was
emulated by the readers or singers other than the bards themselves.
[35] The word harmony ([Greek: harmonia]) was used by the Greeks in
the sense of melody and was the name given to the so-called octave
species or modes of which we shall speak hereafter. (Cf. Aristotle’s
'Harmonics.’)
[36] The statement of Aristotle, that certain low-pitched modes suited
the failing voices of old men, is misleading, as it assumes a fixed
pitch for the modes, which at least in classic times they had not, and
which was not their essential quality. It may be that in Aristotle’s
time the ethical conception of modes had been lost and that they had
all become practically transposition scales. But the theory advanced
by H. S. Macran in 'Grove’s Dictionary,’ which gives each mode an
'intrinsic’ pitch character according to the high or low position of
its _mese_, or tonic, is interesting. According to the laws of Greek
music, this 'tonic’ must be the predominating or constantly recurring
note in every melody.
[37] The b♭ is known to have been the first chromatic string added
to the kithara, or lyre, thus enabling players to use several modes
without tuning the instrument especially for them.
[38] The distinction of an older and younger Olympus which was made by
Pratinas, the Greek poet and historian, is no longer credited. At any
rate, the older (whom Pratinas places before the Trojan War) is the
one to whom the chief merits accrue, and therefore the only one to be
considered here.
[39] During the first auletic contest in connection with these
festivals, which took place in 586 B. C., a certain Sakadas was awarded
the victor’s wreath for the performance of another _Nomos Pythicos_,
composed by himself, which, from all accounts, may be looked upon as a
sort of program music, describing the event in realistic manner.
[40] The word Pæan (Gr. [Greek: paian]) originally signified physician.
It was the name given to a choral address, usually of thanksgiving, to
Apollo or Diana.
[41] Dithyrambic composition continued, of course, to flourish beside
the drama, as did also the writing of nomes, but both were corrupted by
the introduction of solo interpolations (in the case of the former) and
choral numbers (in the latter), so that they finally approached each
other in a sort of cantata form.
[42] Hence the expression 'magadizing’ for singing in octaves.