Essays on the Origins of Western Music
by
David Whitwell
Essay Nr. 46: On Ancient Concert Halls
In this essay and in subsequent ones when we speak of performance or
concerts we speak only of art music, not popular music. Our knowledge of art
music in the ancient world, as with other subjects is limited to a relatively small
amount of surviving literature. The Christian Church now only destroyed a great
deal of the ancient literature, but during the 1,000 years or so which we generally
call the “dark ages,” they controlled the production of books. As a result, their
hostile stand against theaters of all kinds prevented the writing of books which
might have given us irreplaceable information about musical production in large
halls. Finally, the Church discouraged the early Christians from being fond of art
of all kinds, with the argument that God gets the credit, not the artist.
The above explains, in part, why the reader has probably not heard about
concert halls in the ancient world, an important topic for the inference of lost
information about concerts which must have taken place in them. Nevertheless,
there are a few references to concert halls in the ancient world and, in view of the
above, they serve to make one regret even more the lost accounts of early concerts.
In ancient Greece, in addition to great public festivals, there were apparently
more intimate performance sites called symposia, where, much like concerts today,
the works of the older lyric poets were sung as “classics.”1 Indeed, we find evidence
1
Geoffrey S. Conway, The Odes of Pindar (London: Dent, 1972), 113.
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of this tradition for the performance of such older repertoire in The Clouds by
Aristophanes, produced in 423 B.C.
Strepsiades. ...I bade him
Take up his lyre and give me the good song
Of old Simonides, “The ram was shorn.”2
These symposia offered the opportunity as well for both solo and choral
performance by non-professionals.3 We will devote a separate essay to the early
choral groups, but we must mention here the interior civic space where these
choruses performed was called the Khoros and the conductor was called, khoregos.4
We have invaluable documentation for one of these ancient Greek concert
halls in the study of Pericles by Plutarch (46 – 119 AD). He reports the Athenian
statesman, Pericles (495 – 429 BC) was responsible for constructing as a special hall
for the performance of music.
The Odeum, or concert hall, which in its interior was full of seats and
ranges of pillars, and outside had its roof made to slope and descend from
one single point at the top, was constructed, we are told, in imitation of the
king of Persia’s Pavilion....5
There are several other early references to this very concert hall. First, it is
probably the concert hall in Athens which is mentioned by Aristotle.6 Second, we
are told that the Stoic philosopher, Chrysippus (282 – 206 BC) died just after taking
his students to a performance at the Odeum. Finally, this concert hall is mentioned
in a fragment of dialogue of a lost play by Sotion. Athenaeus preserves the following
dialog from the play, The Teacher of Profligacy, which reflects a general decay in
the quality of art music during the ancient Greek period and in which a character
says,
What’s this nonsense you are talking, forever babbling, this way and
that, of the Lyceum, the Academy, and the Odeum gates -- mere sophists’
rubbish? There’s no good in them. Let’s drink, and drink our fill, Let’s
2
Clouds, 1355-1358.
Gregory Nagy, Pindar’s Homer (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982), 342.
4
Ibid., 399, 345.
5
Lives, “Pericles.”
6
Metaphysica, 1010b.12.
3
2
have a good time while we may still keep the life in our bodies. Whoop it up,
Men! There’s nothing nicer than the belly.7
While some writers assign to the Romans a “rather uncouth and vulgar”
taste in music,8 the distinguished Roman specialist, Alfred Sendrey writes of a
vigorous musical practice throughout all levels of Roman society. The reader will
notice he mentions concert halls.
In general, contemporary records indicate that the tendency to
practice music prevailed, at least in public life, in gigantic proportions.
Music teachers and music schools furnished dilettantes en masse; it belonged
to the bon ton of every bourgeois family to give their daughters instruction in
lyre playing. Rich people employed multitudes of slaves, who made music
day and night, to the despair of their neighbors. At banquets there was no
longer any conversation, since music drowned out every attempt at it. A
veritable invasion of virtuosi of all kinds flooded the theaters and concert
halls, bringing with them all their idiosyncrasies, vanities, and intrigues.9
Moreover, we have some specific extant information on early Roman concert halls,
specifically the ones built by various emperors. Domitian (81 - 96 AD) installed the
Capitolinian Plays in 86 AD, which included musical contests, including “those of
the lyre players, between choruses of such players and in the lyre alone, without
singing.”10 For these he built a large concert hall on the Campus Martius. Trajan
(52 - 117 A.D.) also constructed a music hall on the Forum and Maximian (286 - 305
AD) also built a concert hall.11
The poet, Juvenal (55 – 127 AD), mentions concert halls in passing in a
discussion of the deaf.
How can the deaf appreciate music? The standard
Of the performance eludes them: a top-line soloist,
Massed choirs in their golden robes, all mean less than nothing.
What does it matter to them where they sit in the concert hall
When a wind band blowing its guts out is barely audible?12
7
Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae., VIII, 336. In Book VIII, 339, Athenaeus also mentions a profligate harp
player.
8
Paul Henry Lang, Music in Western Civilization (New York, 1941), 31.
9
Alfred Sendrey, Music in the Social and Religious Life of Antiquity (Rutherford: Fairleigh Dickinson
University Press, 1974), 379.
10
Ibid., VIII, iv.
11
The poet, Calpurnius Siculus, in Eclogue VII, 23ff., gives an interesting first-hand description of one of
the outdoor theaters.
12
Juvenal, Satire X, 211.
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Sendrey summarizes the wide spectrum of Art Music during the Empire
Period of Rome.
In the pantomimes, symphoniae were inserted, which meant that a
choir sang and danced to the accompaniment of a group of instrumentalists.
Sometimes an actor sang a solo aria; in other instances a professional singer
sang the lyrics, while a mime interpreted the words with gestures and
appropriate dances. The pantomimes were frequently presented in gigantic
proportions; sometimes 3000 singers and 3000 dancers participated in them.
There were numerous instrumental virtuosi, and the number of good
average artists was legion. From all parts of the empire musicians converged
on Rome, attracted by the gold of the capital of the world. The huge number
of musically educated slaves made it possible for their masters to maintain
large choirs and orchestras with almost no expense....13
Many wealthy persons had their own permanent music groups. Some
had their especially gifted musicians sent to famous teachers for further
education.
Professional virtuosi were in great demand and undertook extended
concert tours in all parts of the empire. They were highly paid and often
became the idols of the audiences. For several of them monuments or statues
were erected.... Women of high society adored them and paid large sums for
their love; other female admirers fought for the possession of a plectrum the
admired artist had used in the concerts; others offered sacrifices to the gods
to insure victory for their favorites in the festival contests.... The victors in
poetical and musical contests received the coveted oak wreath from the
hands of the emperor....
The honoraria of some of the traveling virtuosi bordered on the
fantastic....
In a fresco of Herculaneum (now in the Naples Museum) a concert is
depicted in the home of a wealthy man. It shows a female aulos player...and
accompanied by a kithara player. That it is a real house concert and not
merely a private musical entertainment is evident from the large audience
depicted in this fresco.14
The mention, above, of 3000 singers, while extraordinary, only reflects the
great number of practicing musicians in Rome. Such numbers seem confirmed in
284 AD in the works of Carinus, who presented a series of plays in which he used,
among other things, 100 trumpeters and 100 horn players.15 And Seneca (4 BC –
13
Painting, however, was reserved for those of noble birth. Pliny the Elder says slaves were forbidden to
be instructed in it and he observes that in both painting and sculpture there were no famous works executed
by a slave.
14
Sendrey, Op. cit., 387ff.
15
Ibid., 412.
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65 AD), referring to a large indoor “auditorium,” mentioned that sometimes it
seemed that there were more people on the stage than there used to be in the
audience.16
Do you not see how many voices there are in a chorus? Yet out of the
many only one voice results. In that chorus one voice takes the tenor,
another the bass, another the baritone. There are women, too, as well as
men, and the aulos is mingled with them. In that chorus the voices of the
individual singers are hidden; what we hear is the voices of all together. To
be sure, I am referring to the chorus which the old-time philosophers knew;
in our present day exhibitions we have a larger number of singers than there
used to be spectators in the theaters of old. All the aisles are filled with rows
of singers; brass instruments surround the auditorium; the stage resounds
with auloi and instruments of every description; and yet from the discordant
sounds a harmony is produced.
As mentioned above, because of the Church’s control over the production
and survival of written materials during the Medieval Period there is a general lack
of knowledge of all performing arts during that time. But we can, in some cases,
imagine that performances continued nevertheless. We have no accounts of drama
during the dark ages, but as there was a robust tradition before, and a
“reappearance” which can be documented in the late Middle Ages. It seems
impossible that some form of drama accompanying civic festivals did not occur
throughout the interval of years in between. The same can be said for the highly
organized and elaborate horse shows before audiences, which are documented
before and after the dark ages. All this is to say that perhaps concerts and concert
halls existed throughout the Medieval Period and were simply not accounted for in
extant records. Otherwise, how can one explain the existence of such intriguing
accounts as the one by Cavalieri during the early 17th century in Italy. With respect
to hearing the singer, Cavalieri recommends performance in a hall seating no more
than 1,000! Otherwise,
If it is presented in very large halls it is not possible to hear all the
words; and the singer would have to force his voice, which lessens the
emotional effect; also, so much music with the words not being audible
becomes tiresome.17
16
Epistolae, 84.10.
Emilio de’ Cavalieri, Rappresentazione di Anima, et di Corpo, Preface, quoted in Carol MacClintock,
Readings in the History of Music in Performance (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1979), 184.
17
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As we live in a time when the construction of concert halls is tending toward
downsizing, it may be difficult for the reader to imagine early concert halls so vast
that Cavalieri would recommend circumstances which would require a hall seating
only 1,000. But such a vast hall seems to have existed as we see by another
reference from the 17th century which refers to a theater holding 10,000 persons!
Monteverdi wrote the music for an allegorical tournament celebrating the marriage
of duke Odoardo Farnese of Parma and Margherita de’ Medici of Florence in 1628.
An eyewitness to the occasion reports,
As soon as Signora Settimia, representing Aurora, began to sing, all
conversation among the spectators ceased.... All ears were so consoled by the
sweetness of the voice and the divine quality of the song, that among the
10,000 people seated in the theater, there was no one...who did not grow
tender at the trills, sigh at the sighs, become ecstatic at the ornaments, and
who was not stupefied and transfixed by the miraculous beauty and song of
an heavenly siren.18
If that is not surprising, then consider a letter by Franz Liszt, written in 1872,
when he refers to a hall to be built in Boston.
An American came to invite me, at all costs, to the Boston Festival, to
take place in June, and for which a colossal hall is being built with a capacity
of nearly 100,000 people.19
Quoted in Tim Carter, “The North Italian Courts,” in The Early Baroque Era (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice
Hall, 1994), 39.
19
Letter to Olga von Meyendorff, Oct. 10, 1872.
18
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