The Fifth Desk · Evaluation

Act I · The Map

Music · Sung allegorical drama in Latin for solo voices and chorus, monophonic · 12th c. · text and melodies preserved in the Riesencodex, Wiesbaden, Hochschul- und Landesbibliothek RheinMain, Hs. 2

Ordo Virtutum

Hildegard of Bingen · a sung allegorical drama in Latin, text and melodies both by Hildegard, as it survives in the Riesencodex · Patriarchs and Prophets, the Souls in prison, Anima, the Virtues with Humilitas their queen, and the Devil, who alone does not sing · monophonic throughout · about seventy to ninety minutes in modern performance

The Plate · a heavy level line of song across the plate, and beneath it a thin line for the soul that falls away, runs on low and dashed through the middle, and climbs back, broken once, to join it; above the middle a row of seventeen short upright strokes for the procession of the Virtues, the first taller and crowned; four jagged marks standing apart above the line for the Devil’s shouts, the last enclosed in a small closed loop; at the left five light strokes for the Patriarchs and Prophets, and at the right the line rising into one long high arch for the closing chorus, which comes down to the frame

Mode

Sung allegorical drama; the soul’s fall and return staged among personified Virtues, with no scriptural story, in one line of melody for every voice but one

Mythos

The prodigal’s journey told of every soul; the psychomachia, the war of virtues and vices for the soul; the adversary chained; creation greening in the beginning and the wounds of the Son shown to the Father

Phase

Prologue of Patriarchs and Prophets; the Souls’ lament and Anima’s departure; the Virtues’ procession under the Devil’s interruptions; Anima’s return; the binding of the Devil; the closing chorus

Presentation

Concert music; solo voices and chorus in monophonic chant, one speaking role; rhythm, instruments, staging and casting not notated, so every performance is a realisation

Register

From the Virtues’ wide arching choral answers and the radiance of the closing chorus to Anima’s solo lines alone against the company, and the Devil’s unpitched shouting

Scale

One soul, a company of Virtues, a group of Souls, the Patriarchs and Prophets, one adversary; salvation history from the Patriarchs to the wounds of Christ; about seventy to ninety minutes

Governing Proposition

A twelfth-century visionary, writing for a community of women, made the words and the melodies of a drama in which no story from scripture is told: a soul, weary of the heavy garment of the body, leaves the company of the Virtues for the world, and returns to them wounded. Every voice in it sings one line of melody, except one. The Devil speaks and shouts. The wager of the work is that virtue is consonance and evil its absence, and that only a sung form can make that a fact rather than a statement.

The Voice That Cannot Sing

8.3 / 10
Tier IV · Canonical

Act II · The Essay

Movement I

The order of the Virtues

Hildegard of Bingen (1098 to 1179) set down her visions in books, Scivias among them, and wrote a large body of song, the Symphonia, for a community of women. Her Latin was dictated and corrected by secretaries, Volmar first and others after him. Among her works is a drama, the Ordo Virtutum, the “order” of the Virtues: their rank, and their procession. She wrote both the words and the melodies. The work is the drama as it survives, text and melodies together, from the opening of the Patriarchs and Prophets to the closing chorus.

It survives in the Riesencodex, the manuscript now in Wiesbaden that holds most of her works, her songs among them. The melodies are written in neumes on staff lines, readable in pitch but not in rhythm. Rhythm, instruments, staging and casting are not notated, so every modern performance is a realisation, and none is the work. The shorter text at the close of her Scivias is evidence of the drama’s place in her thought and is not scored with it. Modern performances run about seventy to ninety minutes, depending on tempo and on how much is staged.

The cast is the plan. The Patriarchs and Prophets open the drama, marvelling at the Virtues as at strangers coming toward them: salvation history looking forward. A group of Souls, imprisoned in bodies, lament. Anima, the Soul, is at first happy, then fallen, then penitent. The Virtues, sixteen or seventeen by different counts, have Humilitas for their queen and include Karitas, Timor Dei, Obedientia, Fides, Spes, Castitas and Victoria. And there is Diabolus, the Devil, the only figure in the drama without a melody.

Movement II

The heavy garment

The Souls imprisoned in bodies lament. Anima hears in them her own weight: the garment of the body is heavy, and she is impatient to enjoy the world God made. She does not rebel. She is tired, and she wants the world, and she leaves the Virtues who warn her. The drama’s account of sin begins here, and it is the work’s most human disclosure: a fall made of fatigue and appetite, not of malice.

Her departure lets the Devil in. What he offers her is simply the world, which she already wanted. He needs no other temptation, and the work gives him none: the loss is the turning away from the company of the Virtues.

This is the one stretch in which a figure has a history. Anima is every soul, and her journey is the prodigal’s, told of each; but she is also the only figure in the drama who changes, and the only one whose state the work discloses from inside. Everything else in the drama is placed around her absence.

Movement III

A shout among songs

The Devil enters shouting. In a world where every voice sings one line, his lines are spoken or shouted, never sung. The work’s law is shown at once and without argument: evil is the voice that cannot take part in the harmony. Damnation is not a rival power with a music of its own. It is exclusion from music.

The form carries the knowledge. Recast as a spoken play, the drama would lose it, since the Devil would be one more speaker among many. Monophony carries it further: the Virtues sing one line, so their community is heard as one voice, and Anima, singing alone, is heard as separated from it. The opposition of song and speech, unknown to the sung drama of the church before her, becomes the drama’s moral law.

The Devil keeps breaking in, through the procession that follows, and each time noise interrupts song. These are the drama’s sublime of dread, in a negative form: not a height of terror, but a voice outside the order, heard against it.

Movement IV

Humilitas, queen of the Virtues

Humilitas gathers her company, and the Virtues come forward one by one. Each declares what she is, and the chorus answers her. The answers rise in wide arching lines, again and again, and the procession is the title and the theology: the right order of the Virtues, each in her place, sung as a rite.

It is also the work’s largest give. The declarations are cut to one pattern, and the Virtues are told apart by what they say, not by who they are or by how they sing. Several stations could go without a step of the drama lost. A litany is additive by nature, and a third of the work is litany. The title requires a procession; it does not require every station of it.

Then Anima returns, wounded and penitent, a solo voice low and broken before the full company, and the Virtues receive her with her wounds. Her return is not a cleansing but a reception. At the command of Humilitas, Victoria binds the Devil, and Castitas answers him. The adversary chained is the drama’s one act, and it is done by the company Anima left and has rejoined.

Movement V

In principio omnes

The closing chorus begins “In principio omnes”
“In the beginning all”. It turns from Anima’s drama to the history that frames it: creation greening in the beginning, then the Father shown the wounds of his Son, and a call to bend the knee. The soul’s wounds find their answer in Christ’s. It is the summit of the work, a height of radiance rather than of conflict, and it sets the law of order at the scale of the cosmos.

The ending is also the work’s one strain. The protagonist is not named in it; the drama of the soul gives way to the history of salvation. The turn is prepared, since Anima’s wounds lead to Christ’s, but the last thing the work sees is not the soul it followed.

After the twelfth century the drama is silent. No performance is recorded for some eight centuries, until the late twentieth, when the revival of Hildegard’s music brought it to recordings and stagings, and to the centre of the recovery of women composers. The questions it leaves stay open: how it was sung in her house, by whom, in what time, with what instruments. The book kept the form whole; the sound has to be found again each time it is sung.

Act III · The Twelve

1The Inevitable (Ananke)

The spine resists the subtractive test. The Souls’ lament gives Anima her reason to leave; her leaving lets the Devil speak; the Virtues’ procession is the company she has left; her return is wounded, so the Virtues must receive what they warned against; and the binding of the Devil is the drama’s one act. Remove the prologue and the drama loses its frame in salvation history; remove the closing chorus and the soul’s wounds lose their answer in Christ’s. The give is in the middle, and it is large. The Virtues present themselves one after another, each with a short declaration and a choral answer, and several stations, Verecundia, Disciplina and Innocentia among them, could go without a step of the argument lost. A litany is additive by nature, and a third of the work is litany.

Score: 7.8 / 10

2The Unconcealment (Aletheia)

The disclosure can be stated, and part of it is Hildegard’s own. The soul does not leave virtue from malice. She leaves because the garment of the body is heavy and she is impatient to enjoy the world God made, and the Devil’s offer is simply the world. Her fall is fatigue and appetite, not rebellion, and her return is wounded, not cleansed: the Virtues receive her with her wounds. The second disclosure is made through sound and is credited in full: evil is the one voice that cannot sing, and damnation is shown as exclusion from harmony, not as a rival power. Held at 8.0 because the condition is largely given by the doctrine the work illustrates, the figures name their meanings, and the human state is disclosed in one figure, for a small share of the work.

Score: 8.0 / 10

3The Sublime (Hypsos)

Height is reached by beauty more than by terror, and it recurs. The Virtues’ choral answers rise again and again in wide arching lines, and the closing chorus, “In principio omnes”, is the summit: creation greening in the beginning, then the Father shown the wounds of his Son. Anima’s return, a solo voice low and broken before the full company, is the drama’s one moment of pathos. The Devil’s shouts give the sublime of dread a negative form, noise breaking into song. Held below the top on frequency and on range of register. Much of the procession is formulaic declaration at one level of intensity; the height is a height of radiance, with little of the transport through conflict that the highest concert works carry.

Score: 8.6 / 10

4The Archetypal Deep (Mythos)

The archetype is built, not evoked, and it bears weight: the soul’s fall and return, the prodigal’s story told of every soul, set inside the psychomachia, the war of virtues and vices for the soul, inside the history of salvation from the Patriarchs to the wounds of Christ. The binding of the Devil by Victoria, at the command of Humilitas, is the old figure of the adversary chained. What holds the axis below the gate is the rubric’s own line: the particular must remain particular. Allegory begins from the archetype, and its figures are the archetype named. Anima is the one figure with a history, and even she is every soul; the Virtues are told apart by what they declare, not by who they are. Myth built, on a frame inherited from Prudentius and from scripture, with the particular thin.

Score: 8.3 / 10

5The Swerve (Parekklisis)

The inheritance is twelfth-century sung drama, which dramatised scripture and the liturgy: the visit to the tomb in the Easter Quem quaeritis dialogues, the shepherds and the Magi, the wise and foolish virgins of the Sponsus, the Fleury plays. The departures are several. A drama whose story is not in scripture, an allegory of the soul set to music, two and a half centuries and more before the vernacular morality plays. Text and music by one named author, and that author a woman writing for a community of women. One speaking role in a sung drama, so that the opposition of speech and song becomes the moral law. Melodies of a formulaic design that is her own, not the inherited plainchant of the office. The stake was real but bounded: the work was made for her own house, not for a public that could refuse it.

Score: 8.7 / 10

6The Living Form (Entelecheia)

Change the form and the work loses what it knows. What it knows is that virtue is consonance and evil its absence, and only a sung form can make that a fact. Recast as a spoken play, the Devil is one more speaker among many and the work’s law disappears; recast as a series of songs, the soul has no journey. Monophony is form too: the Virtues sing in one line, so the community is heard as one voice, and Anima’s solo lines, alone against it, are heard as separation. The Virtues sing in turn and the chorus answers, so the procession becomes a rite in which the soul’s absence is felt. The joint is the procession, a sequence of declarations that the Virtues fill, where a different number of stations would change little of what the work knows.

Score: 8.8 / 10

7The Bottomless Well (Apeiron)

The evidence is real and short. Scholarly return began in earnest in the late twentieth century: editions of the text and music, a collection of critical studies, and a large literature since on Hildegard’s music, her theology and her place in the history of women’s writing. The questions stay open: whether and how the work was performed in her own house; who sang the Virtues and who spoke the Devil; how the melodies were sung in time; whether instruments joined them; whether Anima is the soul of a novice, of every Christian, or of one particular nun. Performances answer them in widely different tempos and stagings. Held at 8.0 by the record, not the promise: some fifty years of return against eight centuries of none, and much of the literature reads the work as part of Hildegard’s whole output, so its share cannot be separated.

Score: 8.0 / 10

8Pressure on Tradition (Agon)

Intrinsic force and achieved reach are scored together, and they part far. The field is twelfth-century sung drama and chant. The force is high, about 8.6: the work showed that a sung drama could stage an inner life in allegory, without scripture’s plot, and that the opposition of song and speech could carry its moral law. That is a reorganisation of possibility. The reach is low, about 6.4: no medieval performance is recorded, no copy with music beyond the one book is known, and no line runs from it to the later morality plays, which found the form again by other roads. Achieved reach is scored with intrinsic force: the redirection came eight centuries late, in performance and reputation rather than composition, when the work became central to the revival of Hildegard’s music and to the recovery of women composers.

Score: 7.5 / 10

9The Imperishable (Aphtharsia)

Weighed on form, then presence, then fabric. The form survives whole: text and melodies in one manuscript, the Riesencodex, with the pitches legible on staff lines; the rhythm was never notated, which leaves the performed form partly in doubt. Presence is the charge. No performance is recorded for about eight centuries, until the late twentieth, and the work’s living presence, on recordings and in festival and university stagings, is some fifty years old, real but specialist. The fabric holds: the manuscript survives, and nothing is lost to decay. Centuries of age with long silence fall on the desk’s step at 8.7 to 9.2. The whole survival of the form lifts the work off that floor; the length of the silence holds it near it, at 8.8.

Score: 8.8 / 10

10The Made (Techne)

Command of the medium bears weight. The melodic writing is the work’s chief craft: wide-ranging lines, recurring formulas that bind the Virtues’ music into one idiom, melismas placed on the words the theology needs, and a Devil defined by having no line at all. The dramaturgy of voice is economical: one soloist against a chorus, groups against individuals, song against speech. The costs are real. The Latin, dictated and corrected by secretaries, is visionary, compressed and sometimes rough in syntax; it carries striking images, viriditas, greenness, the best known of her words, but it is not a poet’s command of the language. The Virtues’ declarations are cut to one pattern, and characterisation by melody is slight. Monophony is not charged; it is the medium, and within it the command is high.

Score: 8.6 / 10

11The Inner Law (Cosmos)

Take the two most distant elements: the Devil’s shouts and the closing chorus’s greening creation. One law governs them, the law of the work’s title: order, the right placing of every voice in a consonant whole, and its negation. The Devil is outside it by having no melody; the Souls in prison lament inside it; Anima leaves it and returns to it; the closing chorus sets it at the scale of the cosmos, from creation through the wounds of Christ to the bending of the knee. The Patriarchs and Prophets of the prologue and the closing chorus frame the drama in the same history. The strain is the ending, which turns from Anima to Christ’s wounds and the Father: prepared by her wounds, it does not name the drama’s protagonist. The range governed is wide in theology and narrow in register.

Score: 8.6 / 10

12The Encompassed (Megethos)

The orders held are integrated, not listed. The soul, in Anima’s weariness, desire, fall and penitence; the body, as the garment and as the prison of the Souls; the sacred, as the whole medium of the work; salvation history, from the Patriarchs to the wounds of Christ; the community, as a company of Virtues singing one line; the natural order, as the greening of creation; the world, as what the Devil offers. They are held on one law of consonance. What holds the axis at 7.4, the lowest of the twelve, is absence: the family, labour, the state and history outside sacred history do not appear, and the world is present only as temptation, never as a place. The figure says how many orders an allegory of seventy minutes holds.

Score: 7.4 / 10

Act IV · The Reckoning

8.3 / 10 · Final Average

Placement: Tier IV · Canonical

Strongest Dimensions

The Living Form at 8.8, The Imperishable at 8.8 and The Swerve at 8.7. A sung form in which evil is the one voice that cannot sing, so that the work’s theology is a fact of its sound; a drama kept whole, text and melodies, in one manuscript for more than eight centuries; and a departure from the scriptural sung drama of its century into allegory, by a named author, a woman writing words and music for her own community.

Limiting Dimension

The Encompassed at 7.4: an allegory that holds the soul, the body, the sacred and salvation history on one law, from which the family, labour and the state are absent and the world is only temptation. Pressure on Tradition at 7.5: a reorganisation of possibility that redirected nothing for eight centuries. The Inevitable at 7.8: a procession of declarations, a third of the work, that could be fewer without loss.

The Necessity Cap clears at 7.8 against a threshold of 7.5. The Coherence Floor clears with room: The Living Form at 8.8, The Made at 8.6, The Inner Law at 8.6, each against 7.0. The Epochal Gate is unmet: The Imperishable at 8.8 and The Swerve at 8.7 clear the bar of 8.5, but The Archetypal Deep at 8.3, The Unconcealment at 8.0 and Pressure on Tradition at 7.5 fall short. The Universal Minimum is met at its limit: of the eleven axes it covers, the lowest is Pressure on Tradition at 7.5, exactly the threshold of 7.5. The Encompassed, which it exempts, clears its own floor of 6.0 at 7.4. Four of the five summit conditions are met; the gate holds the work below the summit, and its aggregate of 8.3 would hold it there in any case.

Basis · the Ordo Virtutum of Hildegard of Bingen as it survives in the Riesencodex (Wiesbaden, Hochschul- und Landesbibliothek RheinMain, Hs. 2), read from knowledge under the desk’s convention for concert music; no score, facsimile, text or recording was in hand, and the running time is a range across modern performance, not a measurement. The work is scored as one: Hildegard’s Latin text and her monophonic melodies together, from the Patriarchs’ and Prophets’ opening to the closing chorus. Not scored: the shorter text at the close of Scivias, which is evidence for the work’s place in her thought, and any modern performing version. Rhythm, instrumentation, staging and casting are not notated, so every performance is a realisation and none is the object; the losses are of the sound, not of the text or the pitches. The Latin is read as the original. It is quoted only in the title and the incipit of the closing chorus, of which the desk is certain; the English gloss is the desk’s own, plain and literal, and everything else said of the text is paraphrase. The structure was tabulated by script. Details that could not be verified are not given, among them the date of composition and a proposed first performance at the dedication of a church, the date at which the manuscript was compiled and its later history, a second witness of the text, the place of the drama in the manuscript, the number of distinct melodies, the exact count of the Virtues (stated as differing between counts), the range of the melodies, the substance of Castitas’s reply to the Devil, the dates and names of modern editions, studies, first performances and recordings, the papal approval of Hildegard’s visions, a reading of Anima as a particular nun, and the casting of the first performers. The melodies as sung are beyond this reading and are neither credited nor charged.