It's important to remember, when listening to Binchois' chansons, that their function in their day was very similar to that of our modern radio songs, although intended only for the court. The lyric conventions have scarcely changed in 600 years. Like a successful modern song, these chansons have a direct, simple visceral charm. But the differences in musical idiom and language evoke a keen awareness of the time that has passed, the incredible historical distances this music has traveled to reach us, deepening the magic immeasurably. If, as Erasmus said, it is a fool's way to be most interested in what comes to us from furthest away, we raise our toast to folly.

Of the approximately 60 chansons we have of Binchois, this tiny but tireless rondeau is surely one of the most lethally bittersweet. The discantus line (main melody) is set into especially bold relief by the accompanying lower voices. It begins a florid little motif on "triste," moves higher for the second part of the phrase; the entire line remains within an octave, and, as often in Binchois, uses the semitone as the principal interval, often rocking back and forth across it to create a subtle tension. Binchois' flowing, restrained sense of melody—rather precious, like ribbons of song—sometimes verges on plainness, but it is the plainness of a face that has become mysteriously beautiful by the enigmatic, melancholy glimmer in the eyes.

© All Music Guide

Portions of Content Provided by All Music Guide.
© 2008 All Media Guide, LLC. All Music Guide is a registered trademark of All Media Guide, LLC.