THE ARTS/MUSIC	JANUARY 26, 1998 VOL. 151 NO. 4
	Medieval Mania First came the chanting Benedictine monks. Now the Mediaeval Baebes and other plainsong performers are proving that spirituality--and a different sound--sells By JULIE K.L. DAM /LONDON H-1 viewers no doubt checked their remote controls recently when, instead of seeing the usual fare of Elton John and Madonna videos, they encountered the Mediaeval Baebes. The British band's name and appearance--filmy white gowns, accessorized with the odd boot or platform heel--may have suggested a punk-rock band. But what came out of the 12 women's mouths were the mesmerizing sounds of medieval plainsong. Standing in a semi-circle, swaying to the melody and accompanied only by drum, recorder and tambourine, they performed songs that were inspired not by postmodern angst but by religious and secular verse written centuries ago. What made VH-1 go medieval, if only for its live-performance program Take It to the Bridge, is the increasingly strong crossover appeal of classical music. Like the chart-topping Benedictine monks of Santo Domingo de Silos before them, the Mediaeval Baebes, who were signed by Virgin Records as a Christmas act, have proved that spirituality--and a different sound--sells. And with aggressive marketing by Virgin (who don't seem to mind the endless comparisons to their other all-female act, the Spice Girls), the Baebes are setting their sights on fans of all ages and tastes. Released last November, Salva Nos (Save Us), an album of plainsong ranging from the 12th to 16th centuries, went straight to No. 2 on the specialist classical chart and has stayed at that position for two months and counting. The CD has sold 60,000 copies. It's music from the Middle Ages that doesn't sound middle-aged. Fans describe it as not modern but timeless. "[Medieval plainsong] transcends all language," says Baebe Karen Lupton, a Scottish-born computer programmer, adding, "There's not a lot of people in Britain who speak Latin or Middle English anyway. Most of it is quite difficult to understand." "But most people do get it," says fellow band member Rachel van Asch, a native New Zealander who designs the group's costumes. "Audiences do get absorbed in it. It's very moving, it's very primal." They've served as the opening act for all sorts of bands--grunge, punk, reggae--and, says Van Asch, "People always shut up and really listen." In fact, the audience they are having a harder time winning over are the more conservative classical music aficionados who are put off by the tongue-in-cheek name and Spice-y image. Some critics have accused them of using sexuality to sell religious music. (The Baebes point out that most of their songs are secular.) "They're supposed to be rather raunchy," says one slightly skeptical deejay at Classic FM, "not quite straight from the cloisters." Her radio station, however, made Salva Nos album of the week when it was released, and even the BBC's highbrow Radio 3 has played a track from the CD. To be fair, the Mediaeval Baebes have substance as well as style. Katherine Blake, the group's founder and musical director, is classically trained in music and is a student of medieval texts. The others have day jobs--for now--and varied musical backgrounds. "We set the songs in terms of what we have in the band," says Blake. "Everyone sings. We have a tambourine and a recorder. It's very stripped down, very simplistic." The songs were recorded live in a studio; there was no time or place for heavy production values. Blake's arrangements do not stray far from other recordings of the genre; in any case, since many settings have been lost, any standard is artificial at best. The Baebes may lack the polish of a professional choral ensemble, but that refreshingly rough-hewn quality was probably shared by the cloistered nuns and monks who were the original singers of plainsong. The tabloid-friendly Mediaeval Baebes may have drawn a lot of attention to the genre, but they are not the only group fueling the medieval trend. This year marks the 900th birthday of Hildegard of Bingen, a German nun, healer and visionary who wrote volumes of prophecies, poetry and scientific theory as well as sacred music. In recent years, she has become something of a feminist and spiritual icon--and in this year, a cottage industry. To commemorate her birthday, the small town of Bingen is organizing a year's worth of events, from concerts to scholarly presentations. There are Websites dedicated to her and even cookbooks and health guides based on her precocious ideas on diet and "alternative medicine." Her chants were set to synthesizers in 1994 in a platinum-selling album called Vision that makes the Mediaeval Baebes' performance style seem conventional. Now record companies are offering more traditional presentations of plainsong that Hildegard might recognize as her own. Voices of Ascension, a renowned American choral ensemble conducted by Dennis Keene, recently released a Hildegard tribute album called Voices of Angels. Anonymous 4, a quartet from New York which has developed a cult following in 11 years together, has also put out an album of Hildegard's sacred music, 11,000 Virgins: Chants for the Feast of St. Ursula. Given their choice of name, Anonymous 4 might be seen as the polar opposite of the Mediaeval Baebes, but in their inspiration and philosophy, they seem to be two of a kind. Some critics have singled out the singers' Latin elocution for praise, though as Anonymous 4 member Susan Hellauer points out, "No reputable performer or scholar would dare claim to be truly authentic, because nobody can know for sure what medieval vocal music sounded like." So, she says, "From the beginning we let go of all theories not explicitly described in medieval documents and with time and work let the music and our own intuition teach us what to do." That intuitive understanding applies to listeners too. "Some of [our audiences] are intrigued by the unfamiliar sounds," says Marsha Genensky of Anonymous 4. "Others say our music creates a space for contemplation in a hectic world." Medieval music's success in this post-modern age may have been one thing even a visionary like Hildegard couldn't have predicted. --With Reporting by Paul Moor /Berlin
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