"Noyses, sounds, and sweet aires": Music in Early Modern England (review)

The book's title is the familiar phrase uttered by Caliban while assuring the frightened Stephano and Trinculo that the sounds they hear are only "noyses, / Sounds, and sweet aires, that giue delight and hurt not" (The Tempest 3.2.148–49). It is also the title of an exhibition assembled by Jesse Ann Owens at the Folger Shakespeare Library (Washington, DC) from which the book is drawn. (The exhibition ran from 2 July through 9 September 2006.) Owen's choice of Caliban for spokesperson is nothing short of brilliant. Of all Shakespeare's creations, Caliban best embodies the broad acoustic horizons — from guttural curses to mellifluous verse — that the exhibition and the subsequent book tries to recapture, and it is his convoluted parentage that conjures up worlds in collision: Caliban "runs the diapason from thunder to sweet airs" (Bruce Smith, The Acoustic World of Early Modern England [1999], 337).

Jesse Ann Owens has compiled a select catalog of the precious documents, manuscripts, printed books, images, and musical instruments preserved in the Folger Shakespeare Library arranged in such a way as to lead the viewer through the sound-drenched streets of early modern London. The book — a catalog of the exhibition and much more — focuses on soundscapes ("sounds heard in a particular location") and on the "listener-in-the-environment" (9): placing the listener center stage is refreshing, although the composer is always lurking in the wings.

The selection of materials is based on two underlying premises: the first requires that the manuscripts, images, documents, books, and instruments — the physical remains of music-making — be understood in context; the second suggests that the daily sounds of London made an impression on composers and are reflected in the music of the time. To satisfy the first demand six substantial essays are included by noted scholars, including Ross W. Duffin, Stacey Jocoy Houck, Craig Monson, Bruce R. Smith, Jeremy Smith, and Nicholas Temperley. Each essay explores the meaning and significance of a particular set of sounds heard reverberating through London's streets: the harsh noises of daily life (cries of street vendors, bells, cartwheels rumbling, for example), the sounds of religious strife and devotional practices, and the sweet music of amateur and professional musicians. Strung together, these well-researched and provocative essays constitute a comprehensive background for the ensuing catalog. Specific topics address the meaning of noise, ballads, Playford in the market place, Queen Elizabeth's patronage of music, biblical texts as religious polemic, and the development of a psalm culture. Interspersed between the essays are a generous number of reproductions of drawings, compositions, and documents that provide a glimpse of the Folger Library's wider collection. The second premise is demonstrated throughout the catalog (spanning pages 101–210) with reproductions of music that imitates the ringing of bells (see William Stonards's "Ding dong ding dong bell," 102), title pages and lyrics that allude to the cries of hawkers (see John Wilson's "Ayre," 108), drawings that depict the source of the ambient sounds, and more.

The catalog is organized by topic: ringing of bells, street, tavern, court, and stage music, music education, music printing, Playford, Thomas Trevelyon Miscellany, viols, amateur music-making, music in worship, psalm culture, and sounds of mourning. Each topic is preceded by a historical overview, and each item is thoroughly described. Select items are reproduced showing the range and diversity within each topic.

What I appreciate most about this book — besides its invaluable introduction to the Folger Library's vast resources — is Owen's fresh perspective and ability to speak to a broad audience in an elegant yet engaging style that puts this book in reach of both scholars and the interested public. Owen's responses to each item of the catalog opens up avenues for dialog. One might conjure up a discussion about the sounds and facial contortions made by the street crier...