It’s hard to know where to begin an examination of the life and works of the redoubtable Hildegard von Bingen. Today, she is certainly one of the most well-known, venerated, and respected figures of the Middle Ages who were not kings, warriors, or any of those whose exploits and power shaped the course of history. Rather, she was a twelfth-century Benedictine nun whose life was devoted to religion, music, science, and literature. Her voluminous legacy of medical and scientific treatises, lyrical and dramatic poetry, religious writing of interpretation of visions, as well as a large body of musical compositions, has few equals from those times. Moreover, she exhibited an extraordinarily confident—perhaps aggressive—personality that enabled her to promulgate her writings and her musical compositions, and her leadership as abbess of convents. She didn’t shrink from going over the heads of abbots and bishops, straight to Kings and Emperors in leading her nuns and building and securing her convents. All of this would have been impressive enough for those times—but for a woman it was unprecedented.
Born to a noble family in southwestern Germany, the Rhineland-Palatinate, the young Hildegard at a very young age distinguished herself for her religious visions. Their vividness, intensity, and her articulate interpretation of them led to her being bound over at the age of fourteen to a nearby Benedictine monastery. There, tutored by a friend and fellow novitiate, as well as sympathetic monks, her intellectual growth was rapid. She went on to author important scientific treatises, including imposing ones on medicine. Her prophesies and miracle working led to a widespread reputation, and moniker as “Sybil of the Rhine.”
Her life-long visionary experiences led to an impressive body of inspired poetry that interpreted theological ideas. Her symbolic, literary style was informed by her apocalyptic, prophetic personal visions. She set her texts to music, and a large corpus of her compositions has survived in manuscript collections, edited and published today. We must remember that she worked in the twelfth century, and what that means for our understanding of the fundamental nature of its music: the preponderance of music was sacred, even if non-liturgical; there was no such thing as “instrumental” music—although there was some ancillary use of instruments; all music was monophonic—meaning only one unaccompanied melodic line at a time; the ecclesiastical modes shaped the melodies; and finally, we have no firm knowledge at all of the rhythms of the melodies. Musical notation was in its infancy, and helped very little. So, with all of that, even with centuries of dedicated scholarly research, when music of those times is sung today, it is at best an informed approximation of what scholars hope it sounded like.
Hildegard left seventy-seven religious songs preserved in manuscript. Her musical settings are original, not borrowed from liturgical chant, and are primarily and variously antiphons, responses, sequences, and hymns—all of which may be used in sacred services. O frondens virga is an antiphon, a short chant that serves as a refrain to another chant with many verses, and can be used either in the Mass or in the Divine Office. Hildegard’s poetry is rich with metaphors that interpret her visions of the transcendence of “Living Light,” and her musical style has a soaring quality that much contemporary chant lacked.
Recorded history over the millennia is overwhelmingly the province of men and their deeds and exploits. So it is mirabilis dictu to finally encounter a woman—a true polymath–of the twelfth century who was so learned, so talented, and so powerful. It would be difficult, indeed, to name any predecessors. It is almost a miracle itself that almost a thousand years later, we know so much about her, and that her creative vision lives.
-Wm. E. Runyan
©2022 William E. Runyan