Born: fl. c. 1200
Died:
Pérotin
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In his own words....
"The Magnus Liber [the Large Book of Organum credited to Léonin] was in use up to the time of Pérotin the Great, who made a redaction of it and made many better clausulas . . . since he was the best discantor, and better than Léonin. . . ."
Parisian composer of polyphony. With his predecessor, Léonin, a primary figure of the so-called School of Notre Dame.
When the thirteenth-century author known to us as "Anonymous 4" wrote these words, he provided us with what might be seen as the first music history lesson. In it he describes the work of two composers, compares the strengths of each, and suggests a process of change and influence.
The anonymous writer also told us nearly all that we know about Pérotin:
that he was associated with the cathedral at Notre Dame, that he wrote certain
pieces (which can be identified in various manuscripts), and that even after
his death he was seen as a figure worthy of respect. But who was he? There are
a few candidates for the "real" Pérotin—specifically
two men named Petrus who held ranks of importance at the cathedral. But neither
can with assurance be given the title "Master Pérotin." So
he remains, in many ways, the creation of that late thirteenth-century writer
in the same way that any figure of the past is the creation of historians.
The so-called Magnus Liber Organi represents something of a landmark in the
early history of polyphonic music. It comprises a body of music that was sufficient
for all the major feasts of the church year, thus highlighting for us a point
at which polyphony seems to have become an integral part of the music of the
Western church. As important as the development of polyphony was for the history
of Western music, however, we would be wrong to assume that it was greeted with
universal approval. Like critics of popular music today, many saw this style
as a danger to the morals of the listener because it appealed to people's
sensual nature—an especially dangerous thing in the context of the church.
One twelfth-century writer, John of Salisbury, made his case using sexual language
that would startle and at the same time sound quite familiar to us today.
Pérotin created works on a scale never seen before—both in terms
of the number of voices, and in terms of sheer size. One of his most famous
works, Sederunt principes, is nearly twenty minutes in length. So even if we
are not sure who he was, he still stands as an imposing historical figure.
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