Benjamin Meitzen
November 30, 2024
A bell rings. Two others join. Four more begin to ring. Like crickets on a summer evening, one by one more bells join in to create a chorus of sonorous ringing in the ancient reverberating hall. Hums and soft, singing, quickly spoken words add to the chiming bells from both the leaders and the congregation members. So the gathering for the Lord’s day begins in the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church…
The Tewahedo Church has a rich musical heritage that developed largely independent of Western musical traditions. The church’s unique notational system contains some similarities to Western forms of notation, but is overall understood to be substantially different in form and development. If anything, this music and style was more influenced by Judaic musical traditions than any Western Catholic chant. The church’s unique notational system clearly highlights the independent development of the Ethiopian church, so we will seek to uncover and explore the principles of reading this Ethiopian sacred notational system and understanding how it operates.
It is important to note, the Ethiopian Tewahedo church relies on both written and aural methods. Seeing that liturgical melodies are notated and passed down orally with the intention for flexibility to improvise, we are seeing only a portion of the rich musical heritage within this Christian tradition by seeing its notation. The church has a highly significant reliance on memory and communal participation to preserve its ancient musical tradition.
Thanks to the many hours of analysis and transcription work of ethnomusicologists Kay Kaufman Shelemay, Peter Jeffery, Ingrid Monson, and others, we will also see how the music might appear were it notated in western musical notation.
Ethiopia’s conversion to Christianity predates Rome. Emperor Ezana publicly embraced Christianity in Ethiopia (then Aksum) in 332 a.d. and they developed much of their distinct liturgy through the 4th, 5th, and 6th century. The Egyptian coptic church did influence the Ethiopian church with their incorporation of Jewish-style liturgical practices. However, unquestionably the most influential figure in the history of Ethiopian liturgy is the indigenous St. Yared (505-571). The legend of Yared is documented in its entirety in the Ethiopian Synaxarium written in the 14th century. According to the text, he was supposedly a terrible student and a slow learner of the teachings of the Tewahedo church; sitting for many hours under the teachings of his elders but learning little. One particularly hard day, Yared was physically beaten for his failure, at which point he fled from his place of residence in ancient Simon, in the upper eastern area of Ethiopia.
Making his way deep into the desert, Yared came across a caterpillar making repeated attempts to climb a tree and after every time it fell and failed, it immediately went back to trying to climb it again. After watching the caterpillar for numerous hours, the caterpillar finally reached the top of the tree to build its cocoon.
He was so inspired that he turned around and went back to his church elders. He enthusiastically explained this encounter to them, asked for their forgiveness for his poor behavior and laziness in learning, and channeled his full dedication and focus into learning.
Upon his return and newfound determination, he was able to quickly learn and understand the old and new testament scriptures at a supernatural rate. Before long, he was named a deacon at the church and honored for his knowledge and wisdom. God then recognizes Yared’s unique character and love of scripture and sends three birds from the garden of Eden which took him up into heaven where he was taught the liturgical chant for the church.
After returning to earth, Yared discovered that he now had an unusually beautiful voice to sing along with a deep knowledge of all the inspired chant-songs. In the following months, he writes down all the liturgical chants and develops the system for notation and oral liturgical preservation for the Ethiopian church. Yared went on to appoint specific chants for every season of the year, associating musical modes with Fall, Spring, Winter, and Summer. He would become so overwhelmed and moved by the Holy Spirit while singing this music that in one incident, he did not even feel pain when his foot was accidentally pierced by a spear.
These chronicles continue to go into great detail of the many ways in which Yared’s chant is superior to the music further east, in Rome, Greece, Egypt, or anywhere else.
While the narrative is undoubtedly fantastical, Yared did play an irreplaceable role in bringing a musical and liturgical identity to the Ethiopian church, for which he is regularly honored.
In the greater scheme of ethnomusicological research, Ethiopian orthodox liturgical chant notation serves as a masterclass in rethinking visual representations of music. The process itself of figuring out what portions of the notation are actually notation and what is liturgical text is arduous at best. Some supposedly authoritative early researchers assert that they have alleviated confusion by distinguishing the musical notation symbols in red while leaving the text in black. However, other authorities will say that they do precisely the opposite for the same reason. There is truly no consistent rhyme or reason to this color documenting process. He continues,
“To prevent further confusion, I must record that it is impossible to generalize about this. The thick volume of hymns that I studied in the library of Holy Trinity Cathedral, Addis Ababa, was written throughout in a manner that does not correspond with these statements (regarding text/notation color).” (Powne, 88-89)
In agreement with this perspective, ethnomusicologist Peter Jeffery explains that any given notational system intended to graphically represent music cannot be divorced “…from the issues surrounding descriptive scholarly transcription.” Some scholarly language that attempts to clarify the uses of the signs and symbols contained within the liturgical text is also confusing. They are regularly referred to as neumes which would imply that the signs contain some amount of predetermined time or pitch, but this just isn’t the case.
“Neither the signs nor the letters in the Ethiopian system have any time or pitch value, whether in relation to each other or to their position above the words of the text.”
As a result, rather than being considered a definitive or final representation of the music as it would be performed, there appears to be increasing agreement that transcribing Ethiopian liturgical chant is most useful for historical and musical phrase analysis (Jeffery, 2).
As one can clearly observe above, the written notation is almost indistinguishable from written Ge’ez language. It is only by those who have so diligently preserved the oral traditions and teachings that we know how to look for the added notation. In its combination with text, we are forced to rethink how notation functions. Here, we see that the notation is doing only what is absolutely necessary for the reader/performer to recreate the chant and it relies on the performer having significant prior knowledge of the common melodies and modes.
These small circled symbols in figure 1 are known as melekket. Melekket are a collection of approximately 550-650 signs (depending on which ethnomusicologist is referenced) that instruct the performer to sing a specific short melody. Within a given work of Ethiopian chant notation, you will find three broad categories of musical notation symbols that will accompany the text: the melekket, yafidal qers’, and the bet. We are also presented with two equally significant but smaller subcategories: medgem and the Enqes’e Halleta.
The yafidal qers’ symbols operate like western articulations. They instruct the performer about the decay, the attack, and sometimes additional information about emphasis.
The melekket symbols operate by telling the performer what short melody to use with each word being sung. These melodies are all memorized in their training to be a minister.
The bet symbols appear in the margins of the notation. They instruct the performer on the ‘family’(or mode) that the given melekket melody belongs to.
Our two smaller subcategories relate more directly to service order and organization:
Enqes’e Halleta symbols which tell the performer to take a pause and sing a “hallelujah” using a melody that the symbol itself indicates. This is done in order to bring the congregation back together and re-group. When the liturgy is sung, it is not uncommon to have individuals in the congregation add personal ornamentation which in turn can bring about disconnect between them and the whole of the congregation. This practice is of course intentional, but when it is time to begin an upcoming significant section of the liturgical text, these symbols aid with this.
The medgem is our final type and these nuemes signal the leading vocalist to repeat the previous portion of the text queuing in dance and instrumental accompaniment. It is unclear if medgem date back to earliest church liturgical practices and at which point instruments began to accompany voices within the church, but medgem can be found on liturgical texts that date back to 1500’s A.D. thus it is certainly at some degree an authentic, orthodox practice for the Ethiopian Tawehedo church. A study of instruments used within sacred contexts and orthodox indigenous dance patterns is beyond the scope of this paper, but these artistic contributions to worship were and are undoubtedly common practice.
Some ethnomusicologists, such as Michael Powne, were among the first to study this symbol-based notation system deeply from source material in the 1950’s and 1960’s. They struggled (as would anyone from the west) to distinguish text from the notation symbols and had often assumed that there were only these yafidal qers’ symbols and the melekket. Powne writes that these two broad categories are called milikit (referring to the yafidel qers’ as explained above) and seraye (in reference to the melekket). In this project, I am choosing not to ultimately fall back on Powne’s research as authoritatively superior to that of the more contemporary researchers and will thus reference his scholarship only to showcase the ways in which western knowledge of this topic has changed and grown. Were it not for the lifelong scholarship from ethnomusicologists like Kay Kaufman, Peter Jeffery, and Ingrid Monson would likely not know there to be many types of notational symbols and indicators.
Here is a orthodox liturgical piece that has been copied in such a way that the musical notation can be more explicitly distinguished from surrounding Ge’ez linguistic text:
Figure 2
As you can see, Figure 2 depicts a portion of text and notation that is separated in such a way that western untrained eyes can find it at least moderately legible. The english translation of the text immediately follows as well. The symbols here sit above the words of the text. The singer first observes the bet (not shown) to remind themselves of the mode, then, recalling the short melody associated with each of the given melekket symbols along with the articulation details illustrated by the yafidal qers’, they perform the chant.
As much as it seems like the heavy memorization needed for this system would be burdensome, a well-trained western musician also memorizes similar amounts of melodic groupings and musical ideas- just in different terms. Not to mention, the melekket are generally relatively short melodic motifs that are slowed down and sung in a longer, melismatic style. See figure 3 below:
On the left hand side, we see the notational symbol printed and the right side depicts an estimate for how the melody might be dictated in western notation. These are some simpler examples, but they do show just how feasible this system is to understand- and how it could be a brilliant method for improvisation and ornamentation. G60 in figure 2 particularly showcases how the melodic passage does not seamlessly fit into our rigid western notation. We are forced to write the microtonally-lowered C just with a downward arrow. Not to mention, a trained western musician would play or sing this short melodic line virtually the same every time when the notes are printed out in this way. One aspect of the beauty of notating by symbol is that the liturgical performer is then given the freedom to recreate based on his memory and enjoying the ways in which the melody sounded slightly different from one week to the previous. It is recreation, not regurgitation.
Often, melekket are notated as combinations of two simpler symbols, so certainly the ceiling for melodic complexity is not limited either. See figure 4 to witness this plainly:
Again, the transcriptions don’t translate flawlessly here. Our western notation has to rely on overly specific bpm markings and glisses to indicate the melody as it was performed in this case. Ethiopian sacred notation wields a beautiful flexibility and platform for guided creativity. In some ways, it does a better job than western notation does to help the performer take their music off the page. Figure 4 also communicates the fact that the foundational principles of this system are uncomplicated but that in the combination of varying melekket symbols, the capacity for musical intricacy compounds.
Figure 5 depicts the ten conventional yafidal qers’ symbols. In this case, we do run into clear friction between scholarships. Powne contradicts the work of Shelemay and Jeffery in his assertion that only eight yafidal qers’ (or as he refers to it, milikit) exist. Additionally, his list is missing the enbǝr symbol and the dǝrs symbol altogether. See figure 6 to compare the two charts noticing particularly how there are subtle differences in spelling for english translations and even the drawn depictions of the articualtions differ:
Figure 6
It’s reassuring to see that the majority of the information is the same between these charts, but recent scholarship has indicated two more additions to this list (figure 5).
With only these two elements the notation can become quite complex. However, the performer simply could not perform the liturgy without our final category, the bet. Bet traditionally shows up in three categories. ge’ez, ‘ezl, and eraray.
Figure 6 gives the basic pitches for the ge’ez mode. Some are notated as half notes and some as whole only based on which pitches tend to be held out longer or have resolution emphasis in oral tradition.
Figure 7
Figure 7 gives us the basic pitches used in the two pitch set types used in both the ‘ezl and the eraray modes. Both of these two modes utilize both of these pitch sets. We distinguish the two modes not by pitch set, but by register. Eraray uses these two pitch sets in an upper register of the voice and rarely descends to the low register of the voice and the ‘ezl functions opposite to this.
With these major categories alone, an entire world of improvisational capabilities along with great musical and interpretive possibilities become available to the performer. While we may not yet fully grasp the intricacies of this ancient and profound notational system, its existence stands as a testament to the boundless creativity of human expression. For Western musicians accustomed to a singular framework, it offers a humbling reminder that music, an art form born of spirit and sound, cannot be confined to any one method of transcription. Music transcends the page, and its essence finds life in countless forms of beauty. The Ethiopian Orthodox tradition reveals a vibrant tapestry of devotion and ingenuity. From St. Yared to modern day Priests, the Tawehedo church invites us to expand our vision of what it means to capture music in ways that endure.
Bibliography
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- Powne, Michael, and Thomas Leiper Kane Collection (Library of Congress Hebraic Section). 1968. Ethiopian Music, an Introduction : A Survey of Ecclesiastical and Secular Ethiopian Music and Instruments. London: Oxford University P.
- Shelemay, Kay Kaufman, Peter Jeffery, and Ingrid Monson. n.d. “Oral and Written Transmission in Ethiopian Christian Chant*.” Early Music History 12: 55–117.
- Kebede, Ashenafi. “The Sacred Chant of Ethiopian Monotheistic Churches: Music in Black Jewish and Christian Communities.” The Black Perspective in Music 8, no. 1 (1980): 21–34.
- Shelemay, Jeffery, Shelemay, Kay Kaufman, and Jeffery, Peter. “Ethiopian Christian liturgical chant : an anthology / edited by Kay Kaufman Shelemay and Peter Jeffery.” Madison, [Wis.]: A-R Editions, 1993.
- Stone, Ruth M. The Garland Handbook of African Music. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2008. ML 350.G54
- Britannica, T. Editors of Encyclopaedia. “Ethiopian chant.” Encyclopedia Britannica, February 22, 2016. https://www.britannica.com/art/Ethiopian-chant.
Ben Meitzen 