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Now Springes the Spray – a Kilf Challenge

So Andrew Blackwood, a friend and bard in the Midrealm, issued a challenge for the recent Midrealm Bardic Madness event based on an idea brought up on the drive back from Known World Cooks and Bards in Northshield last September.

It was to create a contra-contrafact in which one uses period lyrics and sets them to music, rather than the regular contrafact in which one writes new lyrics and sets them to an existing period (or not) song. Since that’s also called “filk”, Andrew called this challenge “off a kilf”, as it’s the opposite of the contrafact. Here is the challenge write-up: http://apapermuse.wordpress.com/off-a-klif-bardic-madness-south-2014/ where you can also hear the other artists’ version of this song.

The lyric chosen was a song called “Now Springtes the Spray” written by an anonymous poet in the 1300’s. The words were posted in both the period English and in modern English. The entrants each went to Andrew and performed away from the other entrants; he recorded the pieces. This was so people would not be influenced by the other performers. The result is pretty amazing – diverse and cool!

I’d planned to write my own version, record it, and send it out to him before Bardic Madness but it just didn’t happen. However, I decided to create one today and so this morning, after a study of the text and some thinking, I wrote a piece for voice and harp. Medieval music loved the fifth and so this is set very simply using only, really, four notes. I used the older words but didn’t hold to the earlier pronunciation.

Now Springes the Spray –  Anon. c.1300

Als I me rode this endre day
O’ my pleyinge
Seih I whar a litel may
Began to singe
“The clot him clinge!
Way as him I’ love-longinge
Shall libben ay!”

Now springes the spray
All for love I am so seek
That slepen I ne may

Son I herde that mirye note
Thider I drogh I fonde hire
In an herber swot
Under a bogh
With joye enough
Son I asked, “Thou mirue may
Why singes tou ay?”

Now springes the spray
All for love I am so seek
That slepen I ne may

Than answerde that maiden swote
Midde wordes fewe
“My lemman me haves bihot
Of love trewe
He changes anewe
Yiif I may, it shall him rewe
By this day!”

Now springes the spray
All for love I am so seek
That slepen I ne may

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AoA – Admiranda Howard

A

Pearl of goodnesse, Ishoot of Admirinda,

That al hire bountee telle can

Heo so blithe, so bright, Admirinda

In world nis noon so witer,

semlokest of alle things, Merye sing,

Hire limb pullth true the string,

With lossum cheere heo mak the mark

And wunderliche heo mak the feaste,

that we mak merie with drinche and an meat

Sevant trewe, of wise virtue

Herkne to our roun, To Alle sweetness sae

That Lady Adminanda Howard be.

Ymende. þet þis boc is uolueld ine þe Hunt in þe Barony of Endewearde on þe day of Saint Comgan of Iona in ane Kenric Cyng and Avelina Quene of þe East, ine þe yeare of oure Society beringe 48.

 

MODERN ENGLISH

A

Pearl of goodness,
I speak of Admiranda, Muse of Aranmor

That all her excellence can tell

She so blithe, so bright, Admiranda

In the world is none so witty

Seemliest of all things, we merry sing

Her arm pulleth true the string

With lovely cheer she makes the mark

And wonderfully she makes the feast

That we make merry with drink and meat

Servant true, of wise virtue

Hark to our song,

To all sweetness see

That Lady Admiranda Howard be

And give her arms for her alone
_____________

___________

_____________

 

Let it be known that this work was fulfilled in the Hunt in the Barony of Endewearde on the day of Saint Comgan* of Iona by Kenric King and Avelina Queen of the East, in the year of the society 48.

 

Words based on the earliest English I could manage (a mix of 13th/14th c inspired by period lyric verses in praise of women, for example, “Alesone”) with a finishing phrase from the English translation by Michael of Northgate from 1340, from the French “Somme le Roi” to the English “Ayenbite of Inwyt” (or ‘the again-biting of inner wit’, Remorse (or Prick) of Conscience. 12th Century English is actually Anglo-Saxon, and it’s beyond my ability without major reading and research. I tried to read some and …it looks like I should be able to read it but I can’t. It made me feel like I was going sort of insane.

*October 13th is the feast day

 

 

 

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Silver Crescent for Isabell Montreuil sur Mer

de fin cure vows ay servi 
“I have served you with a sincere heart”
Beauty above is of great value. Beauty below is of great work.
The embroidered cloth is made to be admired, of colors bright and stitches neat. Yet only beneath the brightness of the cloth the measure of the work is seen. There is a pattern to the back, the work-side of every lovely thing. Few know this as well as Isabelle de Montreuil sur Mer, who has embellished the kingdom with her work and dedication to the success and enjoyment of others.
Her life would make a tableaux finely staged – in the many panels one would see her beside the fire cooking for a hungry house. Laden with water for horses and riders. Gently holding the train of a Queen. Bearing baskets and umbrellas. Wearing the heavy gown of Chancellor serving those who would learn to better serve. Planning and serving, transporting, ensuring and securing the design all can see with sturdy knots below the scene.
What an embroider’d tale of Isabelle de Montreuil sur Mer! But now sew before her bow’ed head: appliquéd in silver bright the moon resplendent in the night, hanging over Eastern crown, to show the world her lovely worth. Surround her with that Order of esteem, each one a spangle on the cloth that glorifies the mighty East.
It is with our joy that we, Brennan Augustus and Caoilfhionn Augusta, do join Isabell Montreuil sur Mer with their Order of the Silver Crescent, at the Tournament of the Lady of the Rose in their Barony of Bergental on this glorious twentieth day of September, anno sociatatis XLIX.
calligraphy by Gwillim Kynith, illumination by Agatha Wanderer, words by Aneleda Falconbridge
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Golden Kinder for Tryggve

Listen all                     here who gather
As we speak                of a bold youth.
you may know            Gold-haired Tryggve
Stefnisson                   ‘neath Austri’s skies.
Sapling-tall                  the ankle-biter
In his boyhood             made great noise.

The lad lived                by the whale road.
Northern kiss               was good-night song.
There he learned          tales of people,
sang the songs              to keep the past
slept beneath                winter’s blanket,
thawed his tongue        beside the fire.
Boy was blessed           with Bragi’s gift.

For his art                     singing stories
Grace him with             Golden Kinder
Ring-red child               of uncut thread
Sing your songs            to chester’s folk.
May your years             mount many tales.

Heed you now               the ring-rich givers
Silver wolf                     howls his honor
Brennan bold                 Imperator,
Tale teller                       of his own right,
Blends with bright         Caoilfhionn’s voice
Our tune-true                 Imperatrix.
Thanes and jarls             do them homage.
Skalds and scops            sing their sagas.

Tournament                     of Lady Roses
Marked the day               in Haust-mánuðr*
Tuttugu                            numbered the day.
Bergantal                         bore this bounty
forty-nine                         years past the Founding.

by our hands signed eternal

Brennan Caoilfhionn

________________________________________

Notes:
The Golden Kinder is an Eastern youth award recognizing efforts in the Arts and Sciences
· Haust-mánuðr (Harvest/autumn month/September) “huast man-uther”
* Tuttugu is “twenty” in old Norse
Austri is the dwarf who holds up the Eastern sky

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Three Early Songs for the Fort Knox Demo

Our Barony has a demo annually at a gorgeous civil war era fort in Maine on the Penobscot River. There’s always a music portion on the schedule. I missed the morning portion but these are the pieces I did in the afternoon portion of the event.

Here are two of them, warts and all, live recorded from my anachronistic cell phone from within my basket.

Maiden in the Moor Lay is a 14th century English piece written by the ever-popular Anon.

http://www.mbouchard.com/misc/Maiden-in-the-Moor-Lay.anon14thC.mp3

Robin m’aime, written by Adam de Halle somewhere in the mid 1250s, was the third I performed. I read the text in English before singing it in (I am sure woeful) early French. I adore this song.

Robin-m’aime.AdamDeHalle.c1250.mp3

Murie it is is a 13th century English piece, also by Anon. I recorded this one in another part of the fort because there was a lot of noise on the original and I had a rather rambling harp thing I decided was ok for a one-shot but I didn’t particularly want immortalized. I also decided to play with this a little vocally with embellishments and such and liked how it went. I have wanted to learn this piece for a long time but I finally properly learned it at Known World Cooks and Bards when I took a wonderful class on early accompaniment styles.

Murie-it-is.anon13thC.mp3

 

I feel that the simplicity and elegance of these pieces can be appreciated by modern audiences and I try to perform them in a way that keeps them accessible, but still simple. I’ve grown to really love them and am glad I can do each on relatively short notice.

– a