Hello, and welcome to this webinar, 'The Dancing Monster in Context'.
Thank you very much for being here. My name is Helen. I'm the Public Engagement Officer at the Bodleian libraries.
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This webinar is linked to the wonderful display, The Dancing Master, at the Bodleian Weston Library until Sunday, the 21st of January.
Do come and see it if you can. Our presenter today is Dr. Alice Little, Research Fellow at the Bate Collection of Musical Instruments,
part of the Music Faculty at the University of Oxford. Alice's research focuses on collectors and collecting, particularly 18th century tune books,
And their compilers, looking at what sources the collections were gathered from and what
the selection of music says about the people and cultures that collected and used them.
So I'll hand over now to Alice. Thank you.
Good evening. I'm delighted to welcome tonight Professor Rebecca Herissone to the Zoom stage to talk to us
about Playford's Dancing Master and the context of its printing in 17th century England.
Rebecca Herrisone is Professor of Musicology at the University of Manchester and a fellow at the British Academy.
Her research focuses on the musical cultures of early modern England,
particularly issues of creativity, reception, and manuscript and print cultures,
which has led her to work extensively on the publishing activities of John and Henry Playford,
Thomas Cross and John Walsh, and to consider the complex relationships between musical notation and performance in the period.
She's written three monographs, most recently 'Musical Creativity in Restoration
England', awarded the Diana Mc Veagh Prize by the North American British Music Studies Association in 2015 and has
articles published in journals including the Journal of the American Musicological Society, Musical
Quarterly, Journal of Musicology, Music and Letters, and the Journal of the Royal Musical Association.
She co-edited music and letters from 2007-19 and is now a Vice President of the Royal Musical Association,
chair of the Musica Britannica Editorial Committee, Series Co-editor of Cambridge Elements in Music 1617-50,
a general editor of the Works of John Eccles and a member of the Editorial Boards of the Purcell Society,
and Music and Letters.
Her current research focuses on Purcell's reception, particularly the material traces we can uncover of the small network of individuals who preserved,
performed and transformed his music in the 18th and 19th centuries.
Tonight, she will be speaking to us about 'The Dancing Master in Context'.
Welcome, Rebecca. Thank you very much, Alice I'm just going to share my screen.
Can everybody see that? I hope that's all okay. And good evening, everybody.
It's lovely to be here. Now, this session is the second of two talks given to complement The Dancing Master exhibition at the Bodleian.
as Alice just mentioned, following on from Jeremy Barlow's fascinating lecture given on the 2nd of November,
'A Dance Band for Playford'. Whereas Jeremy focussed mainly on the book itself,
What its images tell us about the musical practices underpinning dancing in the late 17th and early 18th centuries,
and especially on the instrumentation of the bands that were used to accompany ballroom and country dancing in the period,
In this session, my aim is to place The Dancing Master within the broader context of John Playford's music publishing,
exploring what his portfolio of publications can tell us about the breadth of musical activities in Commonwealth and Restoration England,
what sorts of people participated in them, and how Playford used his publishing
business to encourage and arguably to influence and shape those activities.
Now, the talk's going to be divided into three sections and there should be time for a few questions after each section.
So in the first part, I'm going to describe how John Playford revolutionised music publishing in 17th century England by establishing a commercial
market for music books and then nurturing it through his skilful and persistent strategies for targeting his customer base.
In part two we'll consider the evidence that survives of the types of people at whom Playford aimed his publications.
What we know about who actually bought the books and how they seem to have been used,
providing us with a snapshot of the many different ways in which music was
incorporated into different social environments in 17th century English society.
Finally, in the third section of the talk, we'll look at how Playford sourced materials for his publications from his own music making activities,
which allowed him to establish connections with many of London's leading professional musicians.
And how, in an era before intellectual property rights, his publications sometimes brought him into conflict with those musicians.
So we're going to start by looking a little bit at Playford himself, and this is an engraving of him from one of his books published in 1660.
Now, today, Playford is sometimes referred to as the "Father of English music printing",
but his initial steps into his profession were neither promising nor musical.
Completing his stationer's apprenticeship in 1647,
he emerged into the instability and uncertainty of the English Civil War and set
up shop in the Inner Temple Churchyard near St Paul's Cathedral in London.
He was strong in his allegiance to the crown and began producing pro-royalist pamphlets,
which immediately brought him into conflict with the Puritan authorities.
His publication of "King Charls his Tryal" following the execution of Charles
the First in January 1649, led to a warrant being issued for his arrest.
And it was only in the wake of the serious threat to his freedom and possibly
even his life that he switched the focus of his business to music publishing.
Now, given that Playford was a trained musician,
this may have seemed like a logical step for him to take, but such a career shift was not without its
own risks. Music printing had an inauspicious history in England.
It was first formally established when Elizabeth I issued a patent to Thomas Tallis and William Byrd in 1575,
giving them a 21 year monopoly on publishing polyphonic music, importing foreign music and printing manuscript paper.
The new venture was marked by the publication that year of 'Cantiones sacrae'.
It's actually got a much longer title, as you can see there, but people usually refer to it as 'Cantiones sacrae',
containing 17 pieces by each composer, possibly one for each year of Elizabeth's reign.
Despite this editorial fanfare, 'Cantiones sacrae' was rather an anomalous collection comprising Latin motets that were technically banned,
according to Elizabeth's own edict on the use of music in liturgical services.
And as Joan Milsom has argued, possibly intended more to impress Elizabeth's counterparts abroad than for the home market.
For these and a variety of other reasons, this book did not act as a spur for the two composers to begin the commercial music publishing business.
And it was only in 1588, three years after Tallis's death,
that Byrd set up a new partnership with the printer, Thomas East, and began publishing music regularly.
A steady flow of music publications was produced in the next 25 years,
but it came to an almost complete halt following the death of the publisher and then patent holder, William Barley in 1614.
And there followed a 30 year hiatus in which, as Donald Krummel notes,
"scarcely two dozen books were issued that might have come under the control of the [Polyphonic Music] patent".
It's hardly surprising, therefore, that Playford's initial steps towards music publishing in the 1650s were tentative.
His first published music book seems to have been a reissue of a collection of psalms by William Child.
The "The First Set of Psalmes of III voyces fit for private chappell or other private meetings", which had originally been published in 1639.
Although no copy of this reissue is extant, Playford included it among the musical books he advertised for sale at his shop in 1651,
describing Child's collection as having been printed this year,
1650. Though it's not clear whether it yet carried the revised title Playford used when
he republished the set again in 1656 as "Choise Musick to the Psalmes of David".
In 1639, the collection had been printed from engraved plates,
which is significant because it meant the Playford only had to buy the plates and set up a new title page in order to produce the reissue in 1650.
While he obviously did have to cover the outlay for the plates themselves, which is not insubstantial,
plus paper and ink and the materials needed for the printing process to be completed.
He did not initially have to make the more major purchase of what would become the main tools of his trade.
A complete set of musical type suitable for the single impression printing method that was standard
in this period and that gave rise to the characteristic appearance of music prints in the 16th and
17th centuries in which there were small gaps between segments of the stave resulting from the fact
that the pieces of type contained both the note and the section of Stave on which it was printed.
And you can see that here in an example of a page from one of Playford's early publications, "A Musicall Banquet", which we'll come back to in a moment.
And you can see small gaps between the staves, particularly the blank staves on the right hand side of the page there.
Although we don't know for sure when Playford did commit himself to music printing by buying his first set of Granjon music type.
The fact that his initial music publication was from engraved prints suggests that he tested his market cautiously.
Nevertheless, the publication of a harmonised book of Psalms,
a book suitable for both domestic and liturgical use during this period of political and religious upheaval, was a shrewd move.
And apparently it met with success because the following year,
Playford not only published the first edition of Hilton's The Dancing Master,
initially entitled The English Dancing master, as we know,
but also he published a much broader ranging collection of instrumental and vocal music of his own making, "A Musicall Banquet".
Both books were produced using the single impression method, as we can see from this page, from "A Musicall Banquet" on the screen.
So by then he must have bought his first set of musical type.
While the English Dancing Master was a book with a clearly identified musical function providing country dance tunes for practical use,
"A Musicall Banquet" incorporated four distinct sections, and we can see those advertised on the title page.
Playford evidently intended to use these as a form of market research, as Stacy Jocoy Houck notes,
Playford later explained the book's structural design in comments he included in the address "To all
Understanders and Lovers of Musick" in the prefatory material to his 1655 collection of two part instrumental music,
Court Ayres. So he wrote in that preface: "About three years since I published a book called "A Musicall Banquet" there
Being in it, a small taste of music in four several tracts.
The first was some Rules for Song and Violl. The second had in it about 30 lessons for Lyra Violl,
The third contained about 27 lessons of Two Parts, Basse and Treble,
and the fourth consisted of about 20 Rounds and Catches. That little book, finding such acceptance among all lovers and practitioners in music,
and the impression now totally sold off, I resolved to enlarge each of these tracts and to print them in several books, which I have now,
through God's permission, accomplished. The first book I called 'A Brief Introduction to the skill of Song and Violl'.
The second, 'Musicks Recreation', wherein is 177 Lessons for the Lyra Violl.
The third is entitled 'Court-Ayres of two parts Treble and Basse', containing 246 lessons.
The fourth is called 'Catch that Catch can, or catches, rounds and cannons' for 3 or foure Voyces containing at least 150.
Whereby you have a much larger Banquet than you had before."
So: the success of the 'Musicall Banquet' led Playford to expand each of the books four sections into
an independent publication establishing the framework on which his music publishing business was built.
We can see these four publications shown in bold type underlined in this table here.
So the bold type publications are the ones that came out of the "Musicall Banquet".
So in this table, Playford's publications are arranged by genre, and the right hand column lists the dates of successive editions,
taking into account the fact that in some cases, as with 'Catch
that Catch can' Playford sometimes altered the title of the volume between editions. Alongside the genres represented by the 'Musicall Banquet',
So that's: an anthology for solo lyra viol, two-part instrumental dances associated with the court, and catches and rounds for
three or four Voices, plus the rudimentary instruction manual, "An Introduction to the Skill of Musick".
So we have all those four represented in the table there, but we also see published anthologies for other instruments and combinations of instruments.
So that's a single instrument anthologies, which is Section five in the table there, and,
and also anthologies of songs and dialogues mainly derived from music performed at court and in the public theatre.
And those are the top of the table. These are shown under the titles, select musicals and dialogues and choices, songs and dialogues.
And there were also two books of harmonised Psalms as well, through which Playford, as a parish clerk,
attempted to contribute to efforts to improve congregational psalm singing, though with limited success.
The single composer volume shown at the bottom of the table in the final category are somewhat different in character,
and we're going to return to these later. So now we just need to note that there were very few in number, particularly in relation to the anthologies,
and especially if you take into account the fact that there were mainly issued in single editions without reprint.
So there's just one date associated with most of them, whereas with the anthologies higher up the table,
most of them have more than one date because they were reissued in new editions.
Playford's business model marks a distinct departure from the music publication practices of the early 17th century.
And it's indicative of the completely new way in which he addressed the practical challenges of publishing music in this period.
To understand both why he had to adopt such a different way of working and also the impact of his music,
his business practices on musical activity in the period.
We need to take a step back into this earlier period to investigate the very different framework on which music publishing was built at that time.
Now much has been made of the emergence of commercial music printing in the early 17th century.
But Robert Hume's research on early modern demographics has demonstrated that there were so few people
in England with sufficiently large incomes to be able to buy anything but the cheapest chapbooks,
That printing remained a difficult and precarious business well into the 18th century.
And that wasn't just music printing. The problems were considerably exacerbated for music printing, in fact,
because despite the fact that almost all publications of this period were produced using movable type, music notation was not
well-suited to this printing technique requiring specialised and therefore expensive type printing on high quality thick paper.
In the period when paper costs were exorbitant and a time consuming production process,
given that the number of musically literate people was tiny, the potential market remained vanishingly small.
Thus making a profit from printing music was a challenging task.
Prior to Playford in late 16th and early 17th century England,
music printing seems to have existed primarily thanks to the support of wealthy aristocrats who subsidised publications,
a form of patronage that was well established on the continent, and that was also common within literary circles.
Clear evidence for this practice is difficult to find in English musical sources,
but it's strongly implied by the virtually ubiquitous inclusion of dedications to named noblemen and women,
In all music books published in this period, and by the consistent references within them to words such as 'support' and 'encouragement',
which clearly imply some kind of financial arrangement.
Isolated examples from surviving account books confirmed that such subsidies were paid, for example,
including a payment of £10 made by the Duke of Buckingham to a musician that presented a set of books.
A well-known legal dispute that arose between the printer,
Thomas East and publisher George Eastland over the publication of John Dowland's "Second Booke of Songs or Ayres" in 1600,
is also informative because the records of this case tell us that Dowland's wife sold her husband's manuscript to Eastland for £20,
plus a 50% share, in the expected dedication reward from Lucy, Countess of Bedford.
In some cases, dedicatees were already patrons of the musicians whose music was being printed.
So, for example,
John Maynard dedicated his 12 wonders of the world to his ever honoured lady and mistress and tells her that the music in the volume had its prime,
original and birth rights in your own house.
In others, dedications seem to have been made in a more speculative manner, in the hope of encouragement for this or future publications,
or perhaps of gaining employment, a practice that occurred frequently on the continent as well.
What is significant is that in almost all cases these are collections of music by a single composer,
and the dedicatory epistles are addressed to the dedicatees directly by the composers of the music within the volume.
There are only about half a dozen anthologies produced in this period where dedications came instead from the publisher.
So although composers had no particular legal privileges to print their own music,
as we'll see in part three of this talk, in early 17th century England,
they do seem to have been directly involved, both in the process of publishing their music and in promoting their printed books.
In contrast, Playford was from the start, a genuinely commercial music publisher.
In fact, he was among the first individuals within the field of music to initiate the shift from patronage-based to more strictly commercial activity,
that's also been detected within literary circles from the mid 17th century.
This fundamentally different approach can be seen in the complete lack of dedications to the nobility in Playford's anthologies,
meaning that there is no hint of patronage. Rather than relying on these traditional sources of support,
he sought to publish music that would appeal to a broad enough market to make profits on its own.
As the Donald Krummel writes, he was a man who understood the basic problem of music publishing in his day.
His major task was one not of printing music, but of finding purchasers who would buy the music that he printed.
And that's the end of part one. In part two, we'll see if we can find out a bit more about who those purchasers were.
Thank you, Rebecca. So we've got time for some questions now if people want to put them in the Q&A box.
And I've got one to kick us off, which is that you said that Playford was, from the start,
a genuinely commercial music publisher, but I wonder just how successful commercially he was?
Well, we know that by the time he died, he was actually rather struggling because there was a note in his will that says that his estate,
he fears, is going to come short of the expectations of many of my friends and acquaintance, acquaintances.
So he obviously died in some financial embarrassment.
He mentions this having happened since the death of his, his wife, which had happened six or seven years, years earlier.
But. But he clearly was struggling. And his son, Henry, struggled so much that by the early 18th century, he actually gave up music publishing.
First of all, he diversified and started to produce engravings and artistic impressions.
But then he sort of moved away from music publishing altogether, partly because there was a lot more competition by by this point.
But it was certainly something that was that was not an easy, easy business to work in at the time.
Thank you. So there's a couple of questions in the chat now as well in the Q&A box.
Firstly, from Patrick, he asked what's the source of musical type?
Who cut the typefaces? Do you know the answer to that? No, we don't know that.
What we do know is that there was a sort of inheritance track really for and for the type.
So sometimes new music publishers bought a type that had been - we know had been - used by previous publishers.
So Thomas East's type was, was was bought up and used used by subsequent printers in the mid-17th century.
And we know this because some people have done some really detailed work and they can see how the type it decays and deteriorates.
And so there were certain kind of faults in the type that you can trace from one publication to another, if you're, if you're that way inclined.
So we know it was passed on, but we don't know much about who was who was making it, as far as I know,
anyway. Thank you. Umm, staying,
Staying with the commercial aspects, Rodri asks:
Playford dedicates The Dancing Master to the gentleman of the Inns of court.
Was he seeking a paying public there? I think not.
I'm going to come on to that in the in the next in the next section.
I think he was seeking people to buy the book rather than a dedicatory sort of donation.
I think he was saying that if you're that sort of a person, this book's for you.
I think we've got time. Let's do one more now and then we'll perhaps save the others for after the section two.
Felicity asks: How popular was the lyra viol? At the time, really quite popular.
And I mean, violls generally were remained popular actually for quite a lot longer than than people,
People imagine. They were slightly easier to play than the new Baroque cello or bass violin as it was originally used, because of the frets.
So if you were so, you could play the lyra viol while using tablature,
which is slightly easier for the novice because it tells you where to put your fingers.
And so you don't have to work out things like fingering for yourself.
So the lyra viol was was really popular in this period.
There's quite a lot of anthologies published for it, in the mid- and going into the sort of 1660s and seventies.
Wonderful. Thank you. I'm aware we've got a few more queued up, but we'll save them till after section two.
And just to reassure anyone who we don't get to today, that we will send the questions unanswered onto Rebecca.
Who can send a few lines by email to let everybody know what the answers were, so do keep them coming in and I'll return after section two.
Thank you Rebecca. Thank you. So in this section, we're going to examine a little bit about what we can tell about who Playford's customers were.
Now, I mentioned before that the most immediately recognisable characteristic of Playford's music publications
is the fact that he concentrated almost entirely on producing anthologies of music in single genres,
including collections of instrumental dances in parts, single instrument collections, part songs and catches as we saw on the table before.
More than anything,
this shift away from the composer to genre led collections indicates how Playford sought to cater for the interests of his purchasers,
who primarily wanted to have music that was accessible for them to play on the instrument
or instruments available to them at home or in social spaces like the tavern.
So we can see that in the table here you've basically got single genre collections
that can be used in the domestic environment or in semi social environments like the pub.
So they weren't particularly interested in playing music by a specific composer.
And the title pages of the collections clearly demonstrate this new emphasis.
So just to return to the question about a lyra viol, we've got Musicks Recreation of the lyra viol,
first published in 1652, and it's typical in that no mention is made of composers at all.
So the title instead stresses that the lessons are new and excellent as well as easy and delightful for all young practitioners.
In other anthologies, composers are mentioned either generically or by name,
but their presence on the title page is just one of a number of potential selling points
appearing after the largest type that advertises the genre and the novelty of the collection.
So, for example, the title page for 'Choice songs and ayres' of 1673,
highlights the fact that these are songs for one voice with instrumental accompaniment, then in smaller type,
Playford advertises them as most of the newest songs sung at court and the public theatres.
And only then he notes that they are composed by several gentlemen of His Majesty's music,
which is clearly intended to lend authority to the collection.
So with this basic structure in place Playford adopted a range of strategies to encourage and nurture his target customers.
First, he clearly had a keen eye for musical fashion and adjusted his collections to reflect changing tastes in both instrumentation and repertory.
As the section on single instrument anthologies in the table indicated.
So in the early 1650s, he wrote he published anthologies for cittern and gittern and lyra viol.
But then they were replaced by books like 'Apollo's Banquet for the Violin'.
Its successive editions between 1669 and 1701, demonstrating the instrument's sustained popularity.
Secondly, he produced multiple editions of most of his anthologies, which allowed him constantly to update their contents to incorporate
The most recent repertory, assisted as we will see in part three of the talk, by his close connections to many of London's leading professional musicians.
He was forthright in advertising the new content on the title pages of new volumes.
So successive editions of the Dancing Master can show this, as an illustrative example here.
So here is the title page for the first edition is the English Dancing Master,
which describes the collection as plain and easy rules for the dancing of country dances with the tune to each dance.
So that's how he started in 1651.
The second edition of 1652 changes the title to the Dancing Master, but it keeps the original description of the plain and easy rules,
but it adds to it to be played on the treble violin and then tells us that it's the second edition,
which is an improvement on the first edition because it is enlarged and corrected for many gross errors,
which were in the former edition, don't quite know why
Playford wanted to draw attention to the errors and to make it sound like he wasn't a very good publisher.
But of course, what it does do is it makes you feel that you need to buy the replacement edition to get everything right.
The next edition, which was unnumbered from 1665, has a further set of additions announced on the title page,
the tunes of the most usual French dances and also other new and pleasant English tunes for the treble violin.
And then the fourth edition of 1670 is again sold on the basis of its corrections, emendations and novel editions,
claiming they comprise many new dances never printed before.
In adopting this strategy of constant updating of content which he employed pretty much ubiquitously across his entire range of music books,
Playford sought to encourage his customers to buy successive editions of the same anthology,
which he clearly needed to do because his customer base remained very small.
To be fair, he was as good as his word,
and most of his multi-volume series do incorporate substantial alterations and new content with each new volume.
Now Playford's third marketing strategy was to try to expand the potential market for his
music books by including brief guides to notation or tablature in the opening pages.
Usually these included an explanation of the notation used, either staff notation or more simply a form of tablature,
telling the player where to place his or her fingers physically.
Plus basic technical advice, such as how to tune the instruments and information on interpreting ornamentation signs.
So one example can be seen in 'Musicks recreation on the lyra viol',
where the title page advertises its inclusion of some few playing directions as a guide for beginners.
In this case, they comprise just four pages in which Playford first explains the tablature notation.
So that's where you can see the little table at the bottom, which shows you what the tablature means.
And then he explains Note values and notation of metre within the volume.
But he doesn't go any further than this. Now,
these materials can scarcely have been sufficient for customers to access the music in the books if they had
had no prior instruction in either musical theory or the techniques of playing the instruments in question.
But they did allow Playford to market them as being suitable for complete novices.
There was a corresponding shift in the musical content of his books away from repertory that required a relatively high level of skill,
which was characteristic of early 17th century printed music, towards much simpler material.
For those who sought more than the most basic instructions,
Playford expanded on the last section of the 'Musicall Banquet' by creating his famous 'Introduction to the Skill of Musick'.
This is another excellent example of his multi edition marketing. In its original 1654 incarnation, which we can see the title page of here.
It was called a 'Brief Introduction to the Skill of Musick', and it was a modest compendium comprising just 34 pages in three sections.
So there was a set of rudimentary instructions for understanding musical notation, a bit like the ones you just saw for the lyra viol.
Then there was a reproduction of the Preface of Thomas Campion's 'New Way of making four parts in Counterpoint'.
Originally written in the 1610s is a manual to teach intervals and harmonic rules.
And then there was a set of directions for playing the bass
viol, primarily consisting of instructions for tuning the instrument and for finding the notes according to its frets,
because it's tablature notation again. Now, the 1655 edition was already significantly expanded in relation to the first,
and it established a common core of content based around these three elements.
So there are rudimentary instructions for understanding musical notation,
the direction supplying the bass viol with similar instructions added for the treble violin,
and now the whole of Thomas Campion's 'Art of Setting or Composing Music in Parts' with annotations by Christopher Simpson.
And, covered it covered the principles of consonance, dissonance, progressions and part writing, plus imitative counterpoint to some later editions.
Playford also began to include selections of printed music,
including two part songs, harmonised psalm settings and tunes for the bass viol and for treble violin.
Some editions also incorporated additional borrowings, such as a translation of the Preface from Caccini's 'Le nuove muschie',
which was included between 1664 and 1694 but not identified as a translation.
And so it's a bit confusing. With each new edition of the Introduction, Playford incorporated changes to content, some small others more substantial,
making the introduction of valuable record of developments in theoretical understanding of music in England in the 17th century,
and of its compositional practices. Playford's strategies for nurturing and encouraging potential customers for his music
editions give us a strong indication of who he felt these customers were demographically,
and the title pages and prefatory material emphasise the types of potential purchaser he was seeking to attract. Across all his books,
He makes consistent reference to young beginners and to those for whom access to a tutor might prove difficult,
particularly people living in the countryside away from major conurbations.
So, for example, if we would turn to the preface of 'Musicks recreation of the lyra viol,
we can see that Playford tells us that he's printed the book for the benefit and
encouragement of young learners and also to add a few brief and necessary directions,
especially for young beginners who live in the country and far from any master or teacher.
But his books also reflect the gender and class association of particular genres of music and instruments.
So, for example, and this is where the question we just had comes in, we've got the preface to the Ingenious Reader of the English Dancing Master,
which identifies the art of dancing as a quality that has been formally honoured in the courts of princes.
But of course, in the Commonwealth, Playford couldn't relate it to courtly pursuits in England,
so he instead targeted the gentlemen of the Inns of Court,
whose sweet and airy activity has crowned their grand solemnity with admiration to all spectators.
He endorses the art of dancing as a commendable and rare quality fit for young gentlemen,
which is said to be excellent for recreation after more serious studies,
making the body active and strong and graceful in deportment and a quality very much beseeming a gentleman.
So he's clearly targeting this at the young students of law in the Inns of Court.
His 1666 publication 'Musick's Delight on the Cithern' and was also aimed at young men,
as is implied by the engraving next to the title, which shows a seated young man playing the instrument.
In his preface, it explains that he simplified the lessons so as to be useful for the practice of young beginners.
And he's provided mostly new tunes set after the manner of the guitar way of playing the guitar was a trendy new instrument at the time,
which I hope will render it the more acceptable among our young gallants.
So in contrast, the image Playford used to accompany successive editions of 'Musicks Hand-maid', which is a collection of lessons for the virginals
or harpsichord showed a young woman at the keyboard, in this case playing with a male violinist and female singer,
which may have been intended to demonstrate the versatility of the collection.
Because in the preface, he notes that the pieces are so composed that the treble violin may play the tunes along with the virginals,
which will be a pleasant consort.
The association between young women and keyboard playing had a long had a long standing history dating back into the Elizabethan period.
And Playford alludes to this in his preface, referring to the virginals as an instrument of much delight and variety of harmony,
which excellency has made it the delight of many young ladies and gentle women.
So as Stephanie Carter summarises in her 2016 study of the market for printed music in Restoration England,
Playford appears to have relied upon professional men, gentlemen students and ladies as the clientele for the majority of his musical output.
Although she notes that some specific publications had a different target market,
particularly the two collections of harmonised Psalms, the 1671 four part volumes, psalms and hymns
And solemn music and the whole book of Psalms in three parts of 1677,
both of which were intended to encourage improvements in the singing of hymns in church services, rather misguidedly actually, as it turned out.
Now, Carter's research has established that Playford's market extended well beyond his London base.
A set of sales catalogues printed by the Newcastle bookseller William London in 1657, 1658 and 1660,
includes among its 3700 titles some 19 music books of which ten were published or marketed by John Playford.
There's no reason to think either that this practice was not duplicated in other major towns and cities across England,
where booksellers had well-established trade routes to London. Owners occasionally provide a few clues of likely provincial purchases themselves.
In fact, a copy of the 1673 musical companion held at the Royal College of Music Library today,
for example, includes the annotation "John Day, his book, Living in Lechlade, Gloucestershire", for example.
It was, however, surprisingly rare in this period for owners to annotate books with marks of their ownership, such as this one.
And even when names are included, it's often impossible to uncover useful information about the named individuals.
Most of what we know about ownership of music books in Restoration England, in fact,
comes from the libraries of notable collectors of music in the period who were clearly exceptions.
Many were either professional musicians themselves, such as Edward Lowe and Richard Goodson, both Oxford professors of music,
or of the people with strong connections to professional music making, such as Henry Aldrich,
Dean of Christchurch, Oxford and the Right Honourable Roger North,
who consulted closely with professional musicians in Restoration and early 18th century London, which we know from his wonderful writings.
Beyond these exceptions, little is known about individual customers. Carter's survey of some 275 surviving copies of printed
music books produced between 1650 and 1700 revealed that just 62 contained any kind of annotations.
And most of these are anonymous corrections, in fact,
often carried out before sale at the instigation of the publisher, they used to make corrections to books
following the printing process, umm, quite frequently. There are, though, some tantalising examples where owners did insert their names,
the problem being that it's usually impossible to trace those people.
So the Harvard University Library copy of Playford's 1677 'Whole Book of Psalms', for example,
contains on one of its front fly leaves a signature the date the 20th of May 1692, and a number of pen trials.
It's difficult to make out the initial of the surname, but the owner appears to be one James Varnell though, or possibly James Vernell.
Because a few pages further on in the prefatory pages, a further annotation was added.
"Henery Vernell cruell" and "Henery" is also written, you can't really see it very well, but above its written in much larger writing.
I've been unable to trace the Vernells, but the two annotations together,
particularly the inclusion of the word "cruell" and the implication that this is a juvenile hand,
suggest to me that James and Henry may have been young siblings in 1692.
There was not proved sufficient to locate them.
There are no more than about 20 names inserted within the 62 annotated copies of Restoration music books identified by Carter.
And from the dates given, it's clear that a good number of these were 18th century owners of books previously owned by someone else.
Most will never be identified, including the John Falconer, I think, whose name appears,
I think it's been a 19th century- and it certainly wasn't a 17th century one in the inner margin
or page one of the 1690 edition of the Dancing Master in the British Library copy of the book.
Neither are we likely to find out who the John Speer, who owned a copy of the 1678 edition of 'The Peasant Companion',
was, or the unhelpfully named John Smith, who added his name to his copy of the 1663 edition of 'Catch
That Catch Can'.
By far the most vivid picture of the use of Playford's publications by a specific individual is provided, of course, by the case of Samuel Pepys.
He can hardly be regarded as representative of Playford's customers, and it's clear that he moved both within Playford's own milieu and that of
the professional musicians with whom the publisher was closely acquainted.
But his diary and library provide us with a snapshot of Playford's business workings.
Carter notes a distinction between the music books recorded in the library and those mentioned in the diaries,
which she suggests may partly be explained by the fact that the diary runs only in the 1660s,
whereas the library was accumulated over Pepys's whole life. The latest music books dating from 1699 when he died in 1703.
But the nature of the music publications within the library also suggests that people
regarded them more as collectors' pieces than books to use in practical music making.
They include, for example, Louis Grabu's lavishly self-published full score for his opera 'Albion and Albinus' from 1687 and
several other single composer collections such as Purcell's 'Sonatas of three parts' of 1683.
Whereas the books mentioned in the diary are predominantly anthologies of songs such as 'Catch that catch can' and 'Select Ayres and
dialogues' and books of instrumental music for beginners such as 'Musicks Hand-maid' and probably 'Musicks recreation on the lyra viol'.
These are, of course, the books that we've seen were the core of Playford's output and seems to have been an ideal target customer.
Beyond the actual copies of Playford's music books Pepys owned and used,
there are entries in his diary that provide fleeting glimpses of the day to day
interactions that must have taken place between Playford and his London customers.
Some of them record purchases of books that we find later in his library.
So for example, on the 13th April 1660 Peeps tells us that on the way to visit his father, he "went to Playford's;
And for two books that I had on six shillings and sixpence to boot,
I had my great book of songs, which he sells always for 14 shillings."
We don't know for sure which book was the "great book of songs",
but Robert Latham speculates that it may have been Playford's 'Select Ayres and dialogues' of which two volumes are recorded in Pepys's library.
The entry also highlights the healthy exchange market that was clearly in operation at Playford's Shop,
indicating that he bought second-hand music books as well as sending his own new products.
Pepya's acquisition is a copy of Richard Dering's 'Cantica Sacra', found in his library, is also recorded on the 22nd of November 1662,
when he writes that he went to Playford's and "bought the book of country dances",
so presumably 'The Dancing Master' itself and "there meeting Mr Playford,
He did give me his Latin Songs of Mr Deerings, which he lately printed".
So the fact that Playford did give him the book suggests that the copy was a presentation from Playford,
presumably indicating that Pepys was a valued and esteemed customer who presumably spent quite a lot of money in the shop.
That Playford, What that sorry, that Pepys, was a repeat customer to whom Playford could sell new editions of his
regular publications is also suggested by the entry for the 23rd of November 1666,
when Pepys writes that he "called at Playford's and there find that his new impression of his Ketches
(i.e. Catch that catch can) are not yet out the fire (i.e the Great fire of London) having hindered it.
But his man tells me that it will be a very fine piece, many new things being added
to it" and Pepys eventually bought the new edition on the 15th of April 1667.
So that's the end of the second part where we've been looking at who bought Playford's books.
And we're going to look in the third part shortly at how he got hold of the music that
he printed and what that tells us about his interaction with professional musicians.
But there's time for a few questions now, I think. Thank you.
So I've been busily looking at the question box while we've been going.
And of course, inevitably some of the questions refer back to what we were talking about at the end of Section one.
So I grouped them cunningly for you into two main questions.
So I'm going to throw two at you at once. But they're related, if that's okay, about instruments, about instrumentation.
So firstly, you mentioned that he was a professional musician, do you know what he played and what training he had?
And secondly, did he sell instruments alongside the music?
So the first question, first answer is that he was a singer.
He may have played instruments as well.
We don't actually know exactly where he was, how he was trained, but he seems to have been it was probably a cathedral choristers training,
which was basically the main apprenticeship that you had in East Anglia in his case.
And in terms of selling instruments, I don't think we have records that he did,
which is not say that he didn't, but but he wasn't primarily known for that, as far as I remember.
Lovely. Thank you.
And then the second group, I think this will lead you nicely into Section three and give us time at the end for a couple more questions.
Someone has asked, particularly about Purcell: Were they friends? Which I believe they were,
But perhaps you have more detail on that? You're coming on to sources,
but I'm under the impression that Purcell may have written some of the tunes in The Dancing Master and they're kind of anonymous,
and I wonder if you have any comments on that, and if I may combine an extra bit,
Did he have a team working for him or was he a sole agent?
Okay. So these these are quite tricky questions. Sorry! Playford certainly did know
Purcell. And in fact, the clearest indication of of this is the fact that so one of Purcell's earliest publications was his 'Sonatas of three parts',
which he published in 1683. So he'd only been a professional musician for sort of four or five years at that point.
About five years. And it's an engraved publication.
And that's the sort of technique that people often used, that composers often used.
when they were self-publishing their music.
But in this case, the interesting thing is that the engraver was clearly mimicking John Playford's own hand.
So we've got quite a lot of, there are several manuscripts in Playford's hand that we'll we'll come across a couple in this next section.
But Playford was involved in what's known as manuscript publication.
So as well as printing books,
he also produced to order manuscripts for the sort of music that didn't get, there wasn't, there wasn't a sufficient market for it to be printed.
So we know what Playford's hand was was like.
And, and these engraved sonatas clearly mimic that that hand although they don't appear to have been produced actually by him.
So he clearly was directly involved in that publication by Purcell.
So yes, we definitely know that they were acquainted.
I've forgotten what the next what the next questions were.
So so it was about I know you're coming on to the sources for his tunes, but someone has specifically asked whether he had a team working for him.
Probably. He definitely, I mean, it was definitely the case that there were teams of people who would correct by hand.
Manuscripts are sorry publications once they had actually been completed.
The best example we have of that is actually slightly after John Playford's time and it's Purcell self-published opera,
The Prophetess or The History of Dioclesian, which was on the stage in 1690, and was published in 1691, and there's a whole swathe of copies.
In fact, I keep finding them that have got handwritten corrections in them.
And there were three or four people. We don't, they're all anonymous,
but but there are three or four different hands that clearly went through and did multiple corrections for multiple copies of these of these prints,
which which had sort of seven or eight pages where you needed to do corrections
and we can recognise the hands because luckily they wrote some text as well.
So we know that there was a team working in that case and it seems very likely that in Playford's case he would
also have had a team of people who were copying out manuscripts for him as a sort of scriptorium and,
and we know that there were sort of rooms in the back rooms of printers' shops where they were.
People would carry out that work. So, yes, probably.
And obviously there were there were printers that he was working with as well. Brilliant.
Thank you. And then the final one was about the sources for his tunes, which I think leads us nicely back into Section three.
So I shall disappear and see you at the end, keep them coming.
The Q&A box is nice and full. So thank you very much, I'll see you soon. Thank you.
Okay. So alongside his acquaintance with Pepys, Playford's close association with professional and highly trained amateur musicians,
is also indicated by his presentation of a number of his publications to those individuals.
A British Library copy of his 1671 Psalms and Hymns, for example, contains a dedication in Playford its handwriting,
indicating that it was humbly presented to the Right Honourable Francis North,
a leading lawyer at the Inns of court, and at that point Solicitor General, and of course the brother of Roger North, although we met before.
There's also a copy of the second book of the Pleasant Musical Companion that you can see on screen here from 1686 and its got
another autograph annotation, this time identifying it as the gift of Mr. John Playford to John Jackson.
And again, it's in Playford's hand. John Jackson was master of the courses at Wells Cathedral in this period,
but the surviving material sources associate with Playford make it clear that he not only knew such figures through his business interactions,
but that he also actively made music with them,
in particular as a participant in several of the regular music meetings that grew up during the Commonwealth.
Informal music making in small groups was a highly popular activity among musically educated people in 17th century England,
leading to the development of an extensive repertory of instrumental concert pieces and part songs.
Music in these genres was played frequently in private households such as the North family residence.
When music making during the Commonwealth at the residence of his grandfather,
Dudley, the Third Lord North, was vividly described by Roger North in his memoirs.
But consorts also thrived among singing men, and other educated musicians leave, living in Cathedral closes,
And university communities where professional and what we would term in modern terms,
amateur musicians often played alongside one another for recreation.
Both Pepys and North, for example, had direct experience of performing with London's leading musicians.
Among several other anecdotes, Pepys recalled singing in a coffeehouse with the composer Matthew Locke and one of the
elder Purcells and playing consort music with Pelham Humphrey and a "Mr. Caesar". North,
meanwhile, reports playing an "Itallian manner'd" piece with his brother Francis and with Henry Pursell.
Consorts were an important form of social interaction, mainly between male players and singers,
a uniquely intimate form of music making which came into its own during the Commonwealth,
when more public modes of performing became impossible. Alongside the socialisation
involved in the actual act of meeting to play or sing music together,
A more material kind of interaction developed between members of these musical groups as they exchanged and disseminated amongst one another
The Consort Repertory they played and sung their meetings.
Andrew Ashby showed in his study of the transmission of 17th century consort music,
How manuscripts were loaned between aristocratic families so that material could be copied by the borrower into their own sources.
Musicians who visited households also acted as couriers and copyists,
bringing scores and part books with them for copying into local sources and sometimes taking material back with them on their return.
Close relationships between manuscripts associated with particular households
within several regions of England, including not only the pieces copied into them,
but also the details of the notation itself bear witness to the sorts of transmission that took place through these kinds of scribal communities.
The same sorts of patterns can also be discerned among manuscript sources associated with more formal
and regular music meetings that are known to have taken place in various locations across England.
One such group, which seems to have operated in London in the early 1650s, has been identified by Mary Chan.
It centred on the composers John Hilton, he of the 'English Dancing Master', Henry Lawes, Charles Coleman, Nicholas Lanier and John Wilson.
But John Playford was clearly also a key member. The shared repertory of three manuscripts containing songs predominantly by these composers,
one of which is in Hilton's hand,
testifies to this group's activities alongside a number of annotations that indicates that music was sometimes added to the books,
even as the music meetings were taking place. Hilton's Autograph Manuscript British Library Additional Manuscript 11608, for example,
includes a note that he added on Folio 63 Verso, telling us "the treble I took and put down as Mr Thorpe sung it".
And he also wrote down a variant of a song later on, noting "The last close of the third verse is as Mr Ellison sung it".
There are also clear signs of memorised transcription in the related manuscript, British Library Egerton 2013,
including the use of shorthand notation of text and partial transcription of the continuo part,
which again hints at oral transcription as the music was being sung.
Chan adds colour to the image of collected music making by observing that the dramatic flavour of the songs and dialogues in the
manuscripts and their subtle political references, imply that the material was being performed in front of an audience,
indeed an audience with royalist sympathies.
In addition to identifying the links between the three manuscripts directly associated with the composers within this musical group,
Chan notes "The repertoire of the music group represented by the three related manuscripts is closely related to Playford's early publications".
In particular, the catchess that formed part three of the Musicall Banquet, and there was subsequently developed into the dedicated catch book.
Catch the Catch Can in 1652.
The material here reproduces all but three of the captures in the last section of Hilton's manuscript Add. 11608 in versions almost identical to them.
It's very likely that Hilton's manuscript was used as the source for the publication rather than it being the other way round.
Because whether mistakes or dubious readings, it's Hilton's manuscript that has the correct one and Playford's publication that has the error.
Music by composers from within the group also dominates Playford's early song collections, particularly 'Select Musicall Ayres and Dialogues' of 1653,
where he highlighted the names of John Wilson, Henry Lawes, Charles Coleman and William Webb on the title page,
and included songs found in all three of the manuscripts identified by Chan.
These manuscripts were not the direct source for 'Select Musical Ayres' of 1653, however,
because that seems to have been a manuscript copied by Playford himself in connection with Hilton's music meetings.
The autograph now held in the Bibliotheque Nationale Paris MS Res 2489 again shows a good deal of its repertory with the three manuscripts,
as well as including other songs which Playford subsequently published in his earliest songbooks.
So there are 15 pieces in that manuscript, for example, with direct parallels to songs in 'Select Ayres and Dialogues'.
The second book, published in 1669. Chan infers from these books- from these links between manuscript sources and Playford's early printed songs,
that his decision to enter music publishing may actually have been a direct result of his participation in these public or semi-public music meetings.
Although this hypothesis can't be proved, we do know that he continued to use his involvement in such music meetings as a source for his publications.
Once his business was established because he described a later group to which he
belonged as the source for his material for the 1667 edition of Catch That Catch Can,
referring to it as the Late Music Society meeting.
Sorry, the Late Music Society Meeting in the Old Jury London and dedicating the contents of the book to its participants.
Described here as the 'Late Music Society', the club seems to have met between about 1659 and 1665, and Playford's description of the dedicatees'
excellent musical performances when the when it only the contents of the musical companion was thrown before you in loose papers.
And leaves us in no doubt that the book represents the repertory performed during meetings.
Ian Spink deduced that the loose papers in question may actually have been another surviving set of manuscripts copied by Playford.
The part books now held in the Euing Collection at Glasgow University,
which include a list of members of the 'Old Jewry Musick Society' at the front
of the continuo book, and probably reflect much of the repertory of the club,
thus forming a parallel with the Paris songbook which I mentioned earlier who was associated with Hilton's music meetings.
We know then that Playford harvested material for his printed music books from repertory,
sung music meetings he attended in London that involved the chief musical professionals of the day.
He didn't, however, seek to appropriate this music without acknowledging its originators.
So what was the dedication of the 1667 'Catch That Catch Can' depicts a dedicatees as performers, as you can see here.
Indeed, most of those listed were well known professional singers.
The dedication to the 1652 'Select Musicall Ayres and Dialogues' is addressed instead to the works' composers and Playford
is at pains to give them full credit as the authors of the music within the collection.
So he writes: "For the preservation."
This is beautiful language, by the way, "for the preservation and expression of this noble and heavenly science I have
here collected of the beauteous flowers which grew in your fragrant gardens.
These sweet Ayres for instrument and voice, hoping you will not conceive the spider's web to be the worst being woven out of her own bowels.
Nor is the bees, honey, the worse though gathered of several flowers.
The work is yours. You by whom
Musick may think herself richly graced and beautified by your rare skill and knowledge in this science in which you are most richly blessed.
And by you with this most excellent science preserved alive in this nation.
Therefore, the praise belongs to you. This collection being the issue of some part of your excellent pains,
it can then be no less than justice and my duty to present to your protection that which is your own.
To you, I owe the tribute of my pains, acknowledging myself deeply engaged in the debt of service and respect for your willing condescension
to the powerful persuasion of some friends for the publication of these few Ayres and dialogues.
There is variety. It may be to please all." So Playford's reference to 'your willing condescension,
to the powerful persuasion of some friends for the publication of these few ayres'
strongly implies that the composers had given consent for their songs to be printed.
But the effusive tone of the earlier section perhaps hints otherwise,
and this especially this suspicion is confirmed by some rather barbed comments made by Henry Lawes,
the one of the people to whom this dedication is addressed in the 'Preface to all Understanders
and Lovers of Music' that he included in the first book of his single composer collection,
'Ayres and Dialogues for One, Two and Three Voices', which was published by Playford a year after 'Select Musicall Ayres and Dialogues'.
So in 1652. And here is what Lawes writes:
"It is easy to say I have been much importuned by persons of quality to publish my compositions.
But though I could plead it and without vain pretensions, yet now I shall wave it.
Nor was I drawn to it by any little thoughts of private gain.
The men of my relations, as the world now goes, are justly presumed not to overflow.
And perhaps the matter will not reach that value, let the Stationer look to that.
Who himself had undergone the charge and trouble of the whole impression, who, yet by his favour, had lately made bold to print in one book.
Above 20 of my songs whereof I had no knowledge till his book was in the press.
And it seems he found those so acceptable that he is ready for more.
Therefore, now the question is not whether or not my composition shall be public,
but whether they shall come forth from me or from some other hand, and which of the two is likeliest to afford the true correct copies.
I leave others to judge. In this book I reprint
None that were published in the former or ever in print before."
So within the space of just a few lines, Lawes overturns the version of events implied by Playford.
He clearly felt agrieved that his songs had been published without consultation, and questions
the likely accuracy of music published under such circumstances without the authority of the composer.
Notably, he makes a point of mentioning that in his later collection, the stationer, meaning Playford, that's
What publishers were referred to as in the period, had undergone the charge and trouble of the whole impression.
In other words, Playford was bearing the costs of publishing this single composer collection of Henry Lawes's songs.
Now, as we saw in the earlier table, if you look at the bottom of the table,
Playford's business was very much focussed on producing genre based anthologies,
and he only rarely published single composer volumes of the nearly 100 music books that he produced between 1650 and his death in about 1686,
Only eight were given over to the music of a single composer.
So those are the ones shown at the bottom. And three of these were the books of Ayres and Dialogues by Henry Lawes.
It may not be coincidental then that they were published immediately after Lawes had taken
exception to Playford's appropriation of his songs for 'Select Musicall Ayres and Dialogues'.
Is it possible that this is a kind of PR exercise undertaken by Playford to try to mend his professional relationship with Henry Lawes,
who was one of the most important sources for his material? All three books include dedications to noble benefactors made by Lawes himself,
which suggests that the books were published with support from traditional patronage,
the process familiar to composers from earlier in the 17th century, as we saw.
But it was nevertheless Playford who took the financial risk. Significantly, in the preface to the second book of the Treasury of Music,
which was an anthology of Lawes's three books of ayres and dialogues published in 1669, seven years after Lawes's death,
Playford states that the book "doth chiefly consist of Mr. Henry Lawes compositions being transcribed from his
originals a short time before his death and with his free consent for me to publish them if occasion offered" it.
Today, it's easy for us to sympathise with Lawes's objections to Playford's appropriation of his material.
But in 1650s England, such complaints were, from a legal perspective, entirely unjustified.
Since the concept of, sorry, the concept of intellectual property rights did not yet exist,
which meant that composers technically had no special rights to the printing of their material.
It was only in 1710 that the first genuine copyright law came into existence in Britain,
and even then this law known as the "Act of Anne" which stated that the author of the
book shall have the sole liberty of printing and reprinting such book for 14 years,
and no longer was not generally understood to apply to music printing until there was a test case brought by J.C. Bach and C.F. Abel in 1774.
In 17th century England, authority was given not to composers,
but rather to the Company of Stationers, the principal guild for those involved in the book trade,
whose members had the sole right to print music, apart from the actual songs in any language, with or without the composer's permission or knowledge.
It was through his membership of this company that Playford was able to set up his music publishing business.
So technically, Playford was able to publish any music that fell into his hands without any recourse or reference to the composer.
In practice, as we have seen, he used his close connections to London professional musicians as a marketing tool,
mainly to give his publications authority.
Frequently stating that he had obtained materials direct from the composer. In his 1679 'Choice Ayres, Songs and Dialogues',
For instance, he stated "most of the songs and ayres herein contained, I received exact copies from the hands of their authors",
and he made similar comments in the preface to the fourth Book of 'Choice Ayres and Songs' in 1683,
claiming that he had with 'no small pains and care printed the Songs as true as possible from the best copies".
Now it's possible that Playford paid at least a small fee to composers for providing copies of their material,
a practice that we know to have been the norm in the early 17th century, as we saw with Dowland in the second section.
But there's no hard evidence to indicate that he did this.
In any case, once the music was in the publisher's hands, composers apparently had nothing more to do with their pieces in these anthology volumes.
Playford was free to alter, adapt and arrange any music he came across to fit the purposes for which he wished to print it.
This flexibility and Playford's skill as an adaptor was hinted at by one of the singers of the 'Old Jewry Music Society', Charles Pigeon,
in a commendatory verse to my ingenious friend Mr. John Playford, published in the front matter of Select Ayres and Dialogues,
the second book in 1669, when he wrote: "Nor Let Vain Momus Carp and Cry.
This work speaks thee a plagiary.
For don't we know thy depth and skill in musick? Thou dost change or fill what pleaseth not, or where it wants and regulate the false discounts.
Thou art as ready to translate as to transcribe thy book can say it."
Playford clearly did have the skill and training to act as an editor and arranger of the music that he published.
And this placed him in a strong position when it came to publishing his core products:
Anthologies of popular music arranged for a variety of different media.
Since he was able to rework the same materials for different forces of maximising the market for the repertory that he had available to him.
One illustrative example noted by Stephanie Carter is William North's
dialogue "Come my Daphne, Come Away", which Playford printed with an accompanying bass part in select musicals and dialogues in 1652.
In common with the other dialogues in part two of this anthology,
but it also appeared with only the two vocal parts in the 1667 and 1673 editions of 'Catch
That Catch Can'. More substantial rearrangement and reworking can also be detected in variant versions of popular
tunes that Playford published in anthologies for different instruments and instrumental combinations.
So the tune 'The Glory of the West', for example, was one that was included by Hilton in the first edition of the English Dancing Master in 1651
and that Playford also published in Tablature for lyra viol later that year in a Musicall Banquet.
And then again for keyboard in Musick's Hand-maid in 1663.
As Carter's parallel transcriptions that we can see here demonstrate the three versions differ substantially in their rhythmic profile.
So the Dancing Master version comes across as a serious lyrical dance with even rhythms.
And I'm just going to play a little bit of this in one of Jeremy Barlow's recordings, actually with the Broadside Band.
So this is what the top version you can see on the screen,
The one from the Dancing Master sounds like. [Music plays] So that's the Dancing Master version.
The Musicall Banquet version, however, has a sort of swung dotted rhythm that gives the dance a much spikier character.
And this is a recording by Paul Odette, Andrew Laurence King and David Douglas, which which reflects that.
[Music plays]
So the version at the bottom of the of the screen there, which is from Musick's Hand-maid from 1663
also retained these dotted rhythms. So this is the keyboard version and here Playford
provided an accompanying part for the left hand, taking the music in some quite unexpected harmonic directions.
I'm afraid I don't have a recording of that one. So it's in the lives of examples like these that we could perhaps best understand the Dancing
Master in the context of John Playford and music publishing in late 17th century England,
its successive editions formed part of a varied and flexible portfolio of printed music through which Playford
and his successors made available the most popular tunes and songs of the day for people to enjoy,
whether it be in solitary keyboard
playing in their private chambers; with family members and friends gathered around the fire to play lutes and viols
after dinner on a cold winter's evening; with fellow gentlemen of the Cathedral choir meeting in the tavern after Evensong;
at more formal music meetings in the upper chambers of the tavern,
with audiences seated around them; or, of course, in communal country dancing encapsulated so vividly in the Dancing Master's instructions.
Thank you. Thank you so much, Rebecca.
We have, I hope, just a couple of minutes for a couple of last questions,
because I'd really love to turn us back to, probably I would say half the 130 people we had earlier
Half of them probably came to Playford first through the Dancing Master, the English Dancing Master,
So I'd like to turn back if I may to dances and the Dancing Master itself.
So I have again, three questions on the same theme, so I'll give you them one at a time.
The first, I hope, is an easy one, which is simply, Was there much overlap between songs and dances? Was this
Was this material recycled in different ways and was it played by consorts with songs played by instrumental groups?
Yes, it really was those. There was an awful lot of recycling going on.
And I mean, one of the things that comes across very clearly from that is, is the the the way in which creativity was really fluid in this time.
And so you'll have the core of a tune, which will be the same, and you'll certainly be able to identify and recognise that tune.
But it comes in many, many different forms. So not only translating for different instruments with different sorts of notation,
but also with the sorts of variants that we see there 'For the Glory of the West'.
And so you get the piece, you know, transcribed with very different characters for different combinations of instruments.
But yeah, the same tunes come up repeatedly and you know,
some of them are very well known like Lily Bolero and stuff like that, that, you know, that were, were common popular tunes,
but also turn up in that case in a court ode and and was deliberately incorporated
by Purcell into that ode because it was one of the favourite tunes of Queen Mary.
So you know these things were very, very fluid and and I think as well what comes across is that the
distinctions that we would make between sort of popular and folk and classical high arts were,
were, I mean they did exist to a certain extent,
There was more erudite and less erudite music, but the tunes could be put to all sorts of purposes that crossed those boundaries very fluidly.
That leads me nicely into another question, which is coming from Chris-, from Christopher Marsh,
which is to consumers who were primarily privileged and urban, what was the appeal of country dance tunes?
And then I'm going to link that to Leslie's question below, which is what is the contemporary meaning of the term country dances?
That's a very good question. And and if the Christopher Marsh whose asked this, is the Christopher Marsh I think he is,
He knows an awful lot about this already. So.
I mean, I guess what my response to that would would be that the more upper class clientele for these books had a kind of dual existence.
They had the urban existence, and they also had country estates, although, you know, they had relation to country estates.
And so I guess they came from those environments as well. And it was in terms of the upbringing of of a a renaissance and baroque well-to-do person,
It was part of their training to learn these these dances.
And again, I think there was a bit of a crossover between the country dance and the courtly dance.
And and so, you know, the flavour of those dances crosses over between between the two things.
That leads me actually to Leslie has a sort of second second part to the question,
which is I like I love this Playford probably wasn't going out to villages doing field work.
There is an assumption now that these are traditional folk dances.
And Barbara has also asked something which I'm going to link in here,
which is how did Playford find out about the choreographies that were included in the Dancing Master?
That's a very, both very good questions.
And there is quite a big deal about about the choreography because of course dance notation was in its infancy in this period
and we usually tend to think of the Feuillet notation which derived from France and wasn't used in England in this period.
And so I to be honest, I'm not an expert in English dance, so I don't know where the notation that he used came from, but,
But I mean, my impression is that what I mean,
Of course, the other thing we need to bear in mind here is that is that the Dancing Master
originates with Hilton and not with not with Playford so Playford published it,
but the material is Hilton's. So I suppose the question needs to be where did Hilton get it from?
But I really I don't know. But it is definitely the case that these tunes did the rounds in cities as well as in as in country environments.
And so you would have heard them in all sorts of contexts in the tavern and in cities as well as as well as in the country,
and people were playing them at home as well. It was really a very fluidly used.
I think it's lovely. I think you've also just answered Jeff's question there
which was all the references to the dances in the Dancing Master being danced in his lifetime, and if so, where and who by?
Not as far as I know. And but, you know, the usual places that one goes to, like, Pepys's diary,
They do make reference to dancing. It's just not always very clear who is doing the dancing and and what exactly they are dancing to.
But so, yeah, I don't know. But again, I'm not a historian of dance.
I wouldn't consider myself expert in that. Lovely,
Thank you. There are a couple more questions left, but I think we're out of time, so draw it to a close there.
But those questions will be passed on for Rebecca afterwards. So don't worry,
If we didn't quite get to yours, hopefully you'll have an answer soon enough.
A couple of people have also asked about sources and references.
We have prepared a short bibliography which will be circulated after the event.
So it just reminds me to say thank you very much to Rebecca for this evening's talk and to pass back over to Helen for the closing notices.
So thank you very much. And thank you Alice,
And thank you, everyone,
for joining us today and for staying with us since we ran slightly over and also for asking such thoughtful and interesting questions.
A huge thank you to Alice Little and Rebecca Herrisone and Karen, our behind the scenes technical team.
It was a really fascinating webinar and I will be sending out the literature links and the recording as soon as we have it available.
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And thank you everybody, and we hope to see you again soon. And have a good evening.
Thank you.