From the Early Modern Period the transverse flute gradually became a popular instrument for both solo and ensemble music. Over time, it underwent numerous developments, particularly in terms of construction, material, and mechanics, which contributed to its evolution into the modern flute seen in today’s orchestras. Meanwhile, instruments like the recorder, panpipes, whistles, and other types of pipes gradually became less common formal Western classical music and outside of regional traditions, only to experience revivals in the twentieth century.
Throughout history, a wide variety of flutes has existed, with the type of flute varying according to time, place, and culture. This was certainly true during the Middle Ages, a period that saw a range of regional flute variants used by different groups in society for a variety of purposes. These flutes differed in nearly every aspect, including type, material, design, tuning, quality, and function.
Surviving medieval flutes are extremely rare, with only a few partial examples found. Written music from the period rarely specifies instruments, leaving us with limited direct information about the role of flutes in the Middle Ages. We remain uncertain about many aspects of medieval flutes, such as the pitches to which they were tuned (since medieval music was not pitched in the way we do today), the tuning systems employed, the number of finger-holes on the flutes, and whether the finalis was placed on the sixth or seventh hole. We also do not know what the interiors of the instruments looked like, their sizes, the repertoire they played, or how they were played. In essence, much of what we might wish to know about medieval flutes remains a mystery.
The information we have about medieval wind instruments typically comes from three main sources:
Iconographical
Literary
Archaeological
Of these, iconography is the most widely surviving and therefore the most frequently referenced. It is generally considered the least ambiguous of these sources, as it provides direct visual representations of instruments. However, one challenge with iconography is the lack of standardisation in instrument names and spellings. The term "flute," for example, could refer to a variety of different instruments, and there are no detailed literary descriptions of what medieval flutes specifically looked like.
Despite these challenges, a wealth of information is available, especially regarding bone flutes, although this has often been overlooked in studies of medieval instruments. As noted by Brade (1975), there are over one hundred bone flutes dating from the ninth to the sixteenth centuries, found in Belgium, Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands, Norway, and Sweden (Leaf, 2008). Examining these bone flutes helps us gain a clearer understanding of medieval flutes. For instance, transverse flutes made of bone appear not to have existed, and thumb-holes, which seem to have emerged around the twelfth century, were an unusual feature on bone flutes, with only seven (5.9%) of the discovered flutes possessing one. These thumb-holes appear on mammal bone flutes from the twelfth century onwards, although some flutes remain undated (Leaf, 2008).
Additionally, many bone flutes have been found in groups, and the majority are made from sheep bone rather than deer or bird bone. These findings also provide insight into manufacturing processes. In some cases, flutes and frestels (medieval panpipes) have been found with suspension holes — holes that don't serve a musical purpose but may have been used to hang the instruments from a belt or neck. This kind of archaeological evidence can help us better understand the role and use of flutes in medieval society.
Flutes have long held a significant symbolic role, and this was no less true in the Middle Ages. They are closely associated with the human voice: among all musical instruments, flutes are often considered the closest to the human voice, acting as a bridge between humans and the natural world.
The symbolism of the flute stretches back to ancient times, with examples such as the Greek association between the flute and the myth of Syrinx and Pan. In the Baroque period, the recorder in particular was linked to themes such as the pastoral, sexuality, water, lamentation, and the supernatural. Throughout history, the flute has been seen as a symbol of rural life and nature. In the Middle Ages, the association of the flute with pastoral imagery was common, with flutes often depicted in the hands of shepherds, suggesting a connection with Christ.
In addition to these Western associations, the flute also holds deep symbolic meaning in Eastern traditions. The transverse flute, believed to have originated in India, is closely linked with the Hindu god Krishna, who is often depicted playing the flute. Here, the instrument is not just a symbol of pastoral life, but also a representation of the human heart. The Persian poet Rumi speaks of the human heart as a flute: human suffering is embodied in the holes of the flute, and the creation of the flute from a reed mirrors how the heart, shaped by suffering, is played by God. This connection between the flute and the human condition is a profound aspect of its symbolism across different cultures.
Surviving medieval instruments offer limited insights, as they represent only specific examples from particular times and places. None of these instruments have survived in their complete form, leaving us with gaps in knowledge. Moreover, these surviving pieces provide little information about important aspects such as tuning, temperament, or the precise way in which the instruments were used.
To gain a better understanding of medieval instruments, we must rely on other sources, such as iconography, literature, and surviving instruments from later periods. However, these sources come with their own challenges. Later iconography is often influenced by the development of Renaissance instruments, which evolved from medieval types. While this gives us some insight into the progression of musical instruments, it doesn't provide direct details about the medieval versions themselves. The Renaissance period witnessed significant advancements in musical instrument design, which complicates our efforts to learn about their earlier medieval counterparts.
One example of this issue is the frestel, a medieval panpipe. Iconographic depictions and surviving instruments tell us that the frestel was typically made from a single block of material, with around 5-7 holes bored into it. However, looking at Renaissance panpipes, such as those in the Sforza Hours (Italy, c.1500), does not provide us with much information about the medieval frestel. These Renaissance instruments often differed significantly in construction—such as the duct panflute shown in the Sforza Hours—and are not found in the medieval period. Similarly, in Michael Praetorius’ Syntagma Musicum (1619), we see panpipes, but they bear only a passing resemblance to the medieval version. The Renaissance panflute, and the curved panpipes developed in the Ottoman Empire, offer no real guidance for understanding the medieval frestel.
When examining the tabor pipe, we see that Renaissance instruments often came in various sizes, typically standardised with three finger-holes located at the distal end of the instrument. Treatises such as Orchésographie and collections by Attaingnant, Susato, Praetorius, and Phalèse offer a wealth of dance music that was well-suited to the pipe and tabor, suggesting its prominent role in Renaissance musical contexts.
However, a substantial body of medieval iconography shows a different configuration for the pipe. In many depictions, the pipe is played with one hand, and it is not held at the lower portion of the instrument. This suggests that the Renaissance (and modern) configuration of finger-holes may not have been the same as that of the medieval instrument. In fact, there is little evidence to support the idea that the pipe in the Middle Ages was used in the same way as it was during the Renaissance. Furthermore, there is limited reference to the pipe being associated with dance in medieval texts, which raises the question of whether its role in medieval music was as central to dance as it became in the Renaissance.
This issue of assuming continuity between the medieval and Renaissance instruments is not isolated to the pipe and tabor. Similar considerations apply to other instruments found in both periods, and we must be cautious in assuming that Renaissance instruments are direct descendants of their medieval counterparts. Additionally, it is important to resist the notion that instruments necessarily evolved in a linear progression from simple to more complex forms over time. In reality, the development of musical instruments may have followed diverse and non-linear paths, and the instruments of one era may have been quite different from those of another, even if they shared the same name.
Iconography
Iconography can provide a wealth of information about medieval instruments, offering insights into when and where they were known, their approximate size, how they were played, the context in which they were used, who played them, and sometimes even the material they were made from. However, iconography is not without its limitations and complexities.
Most surviving iconography is linked to the church, found in manuscripts, prayer books, psalters, paintings, stained glass, murals, and carvings. These works were often expensive and time-consuming to produce, making them relatively scarce and typically tied to religious contexts. This connection to the church leads to one of the first issues with iconography: the depictions we see may not always reflect the actual performance practice of the time but could be influenced by religious symbolism or biblical narratives. For example, we often encounter depictions of King David with musicians, which are more symbolic than realistic portrayals of contemporary musical practices.
In the Psalterium Triplex (Rheims, early twelfth century), there are two panels: the upper one shows David playing the harp surrounded by musicians, while the lower one depicts a more chaotic and demonic scene. In this lower panel, instruments such as a rebec and horn are shown, but they are depicted in a way that is inconsistent with their upper counterparts, suggesting that these representations were more about telling a story or conveying an allegory rather than accurately depicting the instruments as they were used at the time. This reinforces the idea that the iconography of the time may not be representative of actual performance practices, as it was often influenced by theological or symbolic meanings.
Flutes, for instance, have long been associated with pastoral life, shepherds, and nature. This association can be traced back to ancient Greece, where the panpipe was linked with the god Pan. In the medieval period, flutes continued to be depicted in the hands of shepherds, often as a symbol of rural life and innocence. However, these depictions do not necessarily indicate that shepherds were the primary players of flutes or that the instruments were used exclusively for pastoral purposes. Iconography often tells us more about symbolic associations than it does about actual musical practices.
Another issue with iconography is the challenge of accurately portraying musical instruments. Artists were often limited by the materials available to them (such as stone or wood) and the technology of the time (such as casting methods). This can lead to distortions or impractical representations of instruments. For example, a carving at Chalon-sur-Saône, Bourgogne-Franche-Comté, shows a hybrid figure playing a fiddle, but the size of the instrument relative to the figure makes it physically impossible for a human to play. Similarly, the size of instruments in depictions can be difficult to determine, as some representations feature grotesque or mythological creatures whose body proportions may not conform to human norms.
Moreover, it is challenging to trust the size of instruments based solely on the size of the depicted player, as the proportions may be distorted, especially in depictions of non-human figures. The lack of realism in medieval art further complicates our understanding of these instruments.
We also face difficulties in determining the materials used to make instruments and their construction details from iconography. It is often unclear what type of material the instrument is made from, how many finger or thumb holes it has, or where they are placed. We may not even be able to tell whether the instrument is a wind instrument, a reed instrument, or a horn. Details such as undercutting of finger holes, the shape and diameter of the bore, or whether the instrument uses circular breathing, are rarely depicted in sufficient detail.
While iconography is an invaluable resource for understanding medieval wind instruments, we must remain cautious when interpreting it. The goal of medieval art was not always to achieve realism, but rather to represent symbols and convey allegorical meaning. Therefore, the depictions of instruments in these artworks are not always accurate representations of how they were played or constructed.
Our understanding of how medieval instruments were played (such as their tuning, fingerings, and performance techniques) is also limited. We can only infer these practices based on later sources, such as Renaissance treatises, or by looking at current folk music traditions. For example, to understand how the rebec was played, we cannot look to modern violins, as the rebec differs in both shape and playing technique. Instead, we might examine folk instruments that resemble the rebec, such as the rebec-like instruments of various cultures, to gain a better understanding of how it was played. By studying the use of bows, fingerboards, and other aspects of folk music, we can draw conclusions about how similar instruments were likely played in the medieval period.
In summary, while iconography can offer valuable insights into medieval wind instruments, it is not always a reliable source of information about their actual use or performance practices. We must be mindful of its symbolic nature and the limitations of artistic representation during the medieval period. By combining iconographic evidence with other sources, such as later historical texts and modern folk practices, we can begin to reconstruct a more accurate picture of how medieval instruments were played and what role they played in society.
Folk practices can provide some insight into medieval musical techniques, but they offer only limited guidance in answering the many questions we have about medieval wind instruments. While these practices can inform our understanding of performance styles and playing techniques, they do not always accurately reflect the specific conditions of medieval music and instrument usage. For example, folk traditions may use instruments that resemble medieval types, but the playing techniques, cultural context, and musical purpose may have evolved significantly since the medieval period.
In particular, examining pipe and tabor traditions as possible survivors of medieval practices is equally fraught with difficulty. The pipe and tabor, while still in use in some folk contexts, have evolved over time and may not reflect exactly how they were played in the Middle Ages. Changes in instrument construction, tuning, and playing techniques over centuries can obscure the historical continuity we might hope for. Additionally, the pipe and tabor was likely used in a range of settings during the medieval period, from ceremonial functions to dance music, and understanding its medieval context requires careful analysis of the surviving evidence.
Once we have potential answers regarding how these instruments might have been played, we still face the task of matching them to the surviving music. Medieval music is very different from modern music in many respects, including its notation, theory, and execution. In particular, the role of improvisation, the use of harmony, and techniques like hocket (interlocking rhythms or voices) all complicate our understanding of how instruments were used to perform medieval music.
Were all medieval instruments used in the same way, or did different instruments serve different functions? Were they used solely to produce music, or were they also used for signalling, communication, or ceremonial purposes? In medieval societies, music was deeply entwined with religious, social, and political functions, and the role of the flute, as well as other wind instruments, may have been much more complex than we might assume. In some cases, flutes may have been used in the context of rituals, festivals, or outdoor communication, rather than purely for musical performance. This diversity in usage challenges the modern tendency to categorise instruments based on their function today.
We must also be cautious when we think about medieval flutes as variations of the same instrument. The medieval flute was not a standardised instrument, and it likely varied greatly in design, playing technique, and purpose depending on the region, culture, and specific historical context. To think of medieval flutes as different versions of one archetype may oversimplify the diversity of instruments and musical practices in the Middle Ages.
While folk practices and surviving traditions can offer some clues about medieval instruments and performance practices, they do not provide definitive answers. Our understanding must also consider the complexity and variety of medieval musical contexts, as well as the need for more detailed research into the specific roles of wind instruments in medieval society.
What was possible to make?
The emergence of the pole lathe in the mid-thirteenth century revolutionised the production of tapering-bored instruments such as shawms and bagpipes. Concurrently, increased mining and the introduction of coal made metals like iron and copper far more accessible, significantly expanding the materials available for instrument-making (Montagu, 2007).
Certain materials naturally lend themselves to the creation of wind instruments. Reed and bamboo are hollow by nature, while animal and bird bones are easily hollowed for use in flutes. Elder (Sambucus nigra), a common European wood, has also been widely used due to its straight growth, dense wood, and soft inner pith, which simplifies boring. Additionally, its abundance made it a practical choice. Flutes crafted from reed, elder, bone, and even rush were prevalent. The Ruspfeife, mentioned by Virdung, translates to calamaula or shepherd’s pipe, highlighting the simplicity and utility of such materials.
Bone Flutes as Ancestors of Duct Flutes: The claim that bone flutes are considered ancestors of wooden duct flutes is likely accurate in a general sense, although it's crucial to note that the historical development from bone to wood is not definitively established. Bone flutes are usually duct flutes, as opposed to transverse flutes, and it's possible that wood was later employed for the same purposes once its properties were better understood and easier to shape. The comparison between bone and wooden instruments could certainly suggest continuity in tradition, but it's important to acknowledge the limited evidence in the transition between these materials. As Leaf (2008) notes, there was a period when bone and wooden instruments coexisted, allowing for comparisons that suggest a continuity of tradition. However, it is important to note that bone flutes were typically duct flutes rather than transverse flutes.
Medieval flutes can be broadly categorised into edge-blown and duct-blown types, with four main subcategories:
Panpipes
Duct flutes
Transverse flutes
End-blown flutes
The term flute in the medieval and Renaissance periods was not standardised, and its usage encompassed various types, sounds, and designs. Guillaume de Machaut references instruments such as the flauste brehaingne (“sterile flute”), floiot de sans (osier flute), and ele (possibly a truncated form of frestel). Literary sources also mention the flajol, flajolet, floyle, frestel, fletsella, muse d’ausay, and estive, with different authorities identifying these as flutes or related wind instruments.
This diversity makes it unlikely that all names can be definitively matched to specific types. Flutes in the Middle Ages ranged from simple peasant instruments to sophisticated courtly variants, and their design and use varied significantly by region and culture. Limited travel and communication in the period further contributed to regional differences, while cultural exchanges introduced new ideas and designs, such as Arabic-origin instruments brought to Europe during the Crusades or via Iberia under Moorish influence.
Despite this variety, there was some standardisation in construction methods and materials, as seen in the modern era with Boehm flutes. Though modern instruments exhibit less variation, they still differ in size, material, and features, such as open or closed holes and foot joints. Medieval instruments likely displayed similar diversity within their own contexts.
The Romanesque period marked a shift towards more refined instrument-making, facilitated by technologies like the lathe. Instruments such as bagpipes, shawms, and tabors became more prevalent, often influenced by designs from the Middle East and North Africa.
David Lasocki (2011) notes that early duct flutes came in sizes ranging from small to minute, with two to seven holes in various configurations. The one-handed pipe, often paired with a drum (tabor), typically had a thumb-hole and two finger-holes. By the late 14th century, a duct flute with a thumb-hole and seven finger-holes emerged, foreshadowing the modern recorder. Lasocki argues that the recorder's history must be viewed within the broader family of flutes. I would expand this to include all related instruments, such as tabor pipes, kavals, and panpipes, within this broader framework of flutes in the Middle Ages.
Ultimately, while we can draw insights from historical sources and surviving instruments, much of our understanding of medieval flutes is speculative. Their construction, sound, and use remain subjects of educated guesswork, as modern recreations inevitably interpret rather than replicate the past.
Transverse Flute
The transverse flute, or cross flute, was among the rarest types of flute during the Middle Ages, rivalled in scarcity only by the end-blown flute. It is believed to have originated in the Far East, most likely in India, where it was associated with the god Krishna. Early transverse flutes also appeared in China and Japan, where their presence is documented centuries before their introduction to Europe. The earliest surviving transverse flutes, dating to around 400 BCE, were discovered in the tomb of the Marquis Yi of Zeng in China. These instruments differ significantly from later Chinese and modern flutes, being shorter and having embouchure holes located at a 90-degree angle to the finger holes. While this flute type may have developed independently in China, it is likely that the transverse flute originated in India and spread eastwards to China and Japan, where examples from the eighth century AD are preserved in the Shōsōin repository in Nara (Leaf, 2008).
In Byzantium, transverse flutes are first documented in the tenth century, marking their earliest appearance within European borders. These instruments are depicted in Byzantine art, including church psalters and frescoes, such as those in the South Tower of the Hagia Sophia in Kiev, dating from the twelfth century. In this fresco, the flute is shown alongside acrobats and musicians, held to the player’s left rather than the modern right-hand position (Icon Art, n.d.).
The transverse flute continued its journey into Europe proper, appearing in various medieval manuscripts and artworks. The earliest surviving European representation is an eleventh or twelfth-century cast bronze aquamanile from the National Museum in Budapest. This aquamanile portrays a flautist standing on the back of a centaur, playing a drum. Such depictions suggest that the flute was more extensively used in the Holy Roman Empire (roughly modern-day Germany) than elsewhere, earning it the name "German flute" or flûte d’Allemagne. Guillaume de Machaut references the transverse flute in La Prise d’Alexandrie, referring to it as a "fleuste" or "fleuthe traversaine" (Leaf, 2008). Similarly, Adenet le Roi’s Cleomadés (c. 1285) describes "flahutes d’argent traversaines" (silver transverse flutes), providing one of the earliest unmistakable literary references to the instrument.
Unfortunately, no medieval transverse flutes have survived, leaving much of our understanding reliant on iconography, written accounts, and comparisons with Renaissance flutes. Medieval transverse flutes were likely simple, cylindrical instruments made of wood or bone, with single-piece construction. Iconography suggests variations in design, including embouchure holes located either centrally or towards one end of the flute, and finger holes ranging from none to eight. The absence of thumb holes in medieval depictions suggests their construction might have differed from later designs. For example, the Manessische Liederhandschrift (early 14th century) shows flutes with varying embouchure positions, as seen in Der Kanzler (Cod. Pal. germ. 848, fol. 423v) and Meister Rumslant (fol. 413v). Both images also depict the flute being played alongside a vielle, hinting at their use in ensemble contexts.
One of the most famous depictions is found in the Cantigas de Santa Maria (13th century), which illustrates two tenor-sized transverse flutes (Madrid, Escorial Monastery, MS b.I.2.). Rudolf von Ems’s Weltchronik (c. 1255–1270), Kauffman’s Haggadah (14th century), and other manuscripts also feature transverse flutes, underscoring their gradual integration into medieval European culture.
Despite these depictions, little is known about the sound, pitch, or playing techniques of medieval transverse flutes. Unlike Renaissance flutes, which were designed for consort performance, medieval flutes were likely solo instruments with thicker walls, wider bores, and larger finger holes. This construction would have contributed to their tonal and technical characteristics. Furthermore, flutes were often associated with pastoral themes, shepherds, and mythological figures like Pan, linking them to rustic and idyllic imagery.
Although our knowledge of medieval transverse flutes is fragmentary, their role in European musical culture marks an important chapter in the history of wind instruments. Future discoveries may yet reveal more about their construction, repertoire, and cultural significance.
Duct flutes
Duct flutes, also known as fipple flutes, are characterised by a design in which the air travels through a wind-way, or duct, onto a sharp edge called the labium. This mechanism produces sound without requiring the player to form an embouchure with their lips, as is necessary with other types of flutes. This feature makes duct flutes particularly accessible, as the player simply needs to blow into the instrument to produce sound. Additionally, duct flutes respond well to a wide variety of articulations. While other flutes often rely on harder articulations to achieve clear speech, duct flutes accommodate both soft and hard articulations with ease.
In contrast, flutes that require an embouchure depend on the player’s lips and facial muscles to shape and adjust the voicing—affecting pitch, tone quality, and dynamics. With duct flutes, the voicing is fixed, which limits their flexibility. A typical characteristic of duct flutes is that blowing harder raises the pitch, resulting in a relatively narrow dynamic range. Although different fingerings can offer some variation in dynamics, these changes are generally subtle compared to what is achievable with embouchure-formed flutes.
Tilincă
There is little direct evidence for the tilincă in the Middle Ages; however, given the widespread presence of various duct flutes and the geographical range where the tilincă is found, it seems likely that such an instrument was known and used during this period.
The MS 1-2005 Macclesfield Psalter (c. 1330-1340), Folio 188r, depicts a tilincă, although the instrument shown here is not the duct variant. Additionally, the Breviary of France, ca. 1511 (MS M. 8, fol. 150r), also features a possible representation of the tilincă (Musiconis, 2011).
The tilincă is essentially a flute without finger-holes; it is a pipe that is either side-blown or, more commonly today, equipped with a duct. It is typically a long flute with a narrow bore, with an approximate length of 75 cm, although shorter versions exist. Longer instruments may require a separate tube or bocal to reach the wind-way, similar to the fujara.
Today, the instrument is found across Central and Eastern Europe, with variations such as the Romanian tilincă, Hungarian tilinkó, Slovak koncovka, Russian kalyuka, and Moldavian csilinko. Similar instruments are also found in other regions, notably the Norwegian seljefløyte.
To play the tilincă, only one finger is needed to open and close the end of the instrument. There are two basic configurations: open and closed. When the instrument is open, it produces the natural overtone series and is often referred to as a harmonic flute. When closed, the instrument functions as a stopped pipe: the air has no escape and travels back the way it entered. Consequently, the airstream becomes approximately twice the length of the open instrument, producing a pitch an octave lower. Once stopped, the tilincă will only produce the odd harmonics of the overtone series. By alternating between the open and closed positions, players can produce a complete scale and play melodies.
Vessel flutes
The tilincă is not the only example of a stopped pipe among duct flutes. Although it is unique in the technique of alternating between open and closed (as far as we know - though given the limited information on playing styles and techniques, it is entirely possible that other open flutes employed some method of closing the end while playing), some organ pipes are also closed, as are vessel flutes.
Vessel flutes are among the oldest and most widely distributed types of flutes. The most common vessel flute is the ocarina. The defining characteristic of a vessel flute is that, unlike most flutes, the air does not travel down a tube but instead passes through a vessel. One of the most well-known of these instruments is the gemshorn.
The historical gemshorn was a brief phenomenon during the late Middle Ages and Renaissance, and its use was almost entirely confined to Germany. Very little is known about the historical gemshorn, as no reliable surviving examples exist - only a single gemshorn survives today, and it is neither playable nor dated. Interestingly, instruments like the gemshorn, which were once more popular, are now more commonly found in modern use than they were in the past.
The name "gemshorn" refers to the material from which the instrument is made: goat horn (the modern German term is Gämsen). A small horn made either from animal horn or metal appears in French sources from the 13th century under the name cornet(t), and the term is found in England in the 15th century. Between the 13th and 15th centuries, references to cor à doigts in French sources seem to describe horns with finger-holes. These may have been predecessors to the cornetto, perhaps resembling the bukkehorn found today in Norway.
The remarkable feature of the gemshorn is that it is a vessel flute, which is unique in being a horn played by blowing at the wide end of the horn, unlike a hunting horn where the narrow end is blown.
The gemshorn appears in a few iconographical specimens, notably in the woodcuts of the Heidelberger Totentanz (Dance of Death) from 1488. These woodcuts depict a personification of Death playing or holding various musical instruments, including the lute, bray harp, shawm, tromba marina, bagpipe, psaltery, and more. One woodcut clearly depicts a gemshorn with the window (the rectangular hole near the mouthpiece) visible, and this instrument is played at the wide end, as expected for a gemshorn. Although the illustration lacks finger-holes, this depiction places the earliest recorded date for the gemshorn at 1488. This illustration is unique in that it shows the gemshorn without finger-holes.
Virdung (1511) depicts the gemshorn with 4 finger-holes. Although the presence of 4 finger-holes rather than 8 does not necessarily reduce the compass of the instrument compared to a 9- or 8-holed instrument, it is worth noting that the difference in finger-holes did not significantly limit its range.
The gemshorn was also depicted in Dürer’s Prayerbook for Emperor Maximilian (1515), further cementing its place in the late medieval to Renaissance musical landscape.
In the context of the pipe organ, there are various stops used to admit air into different ranks (groups) of pipes. One such stop is called gemshorn (in English and German), Gemshoorn (in Dutch), and Cor de Chamois (in French). The pipes of the gemshorn organ stop are not stopped at the end, as with a true gemshorn or other stopped pipes such as the Gedackt, Bourdon, or Stopped Diapason. Instead, the gemshorn organ stop pipes have an inverted conical shape.
The earliest known gemshorn organ stop dates from the early 16th century.
The gemshorn was played from the late 14th century to the middle of the 16th century, and its use is further documented by another German musician and musical lexicographer, Michael Praetorius, who provided diagrams of the gemshorn in his De Organographia (1618).
After this, the gemshorn disappears from the historical records. It appears extremely rarely in any known documents or iconography and is found only in Germany. Furthermore, no music was written specifically for it, which, although typical for medieval instruments, is a significant omission for the Renaissance period. As a result, we must conclude that the gemshorn was a very minor player in Renaissance and early Baroque music. It was never used in mainstream music of the period. Despite some early music ensembles using it for medieval music, there is no evidence of its existence or use in the Middle Ages before 1455, which could be considered the beginning of the Renaissance. Some shops sell gemshorn consorts - a set in different sizes and therefore at different pitches - for which there is no historical evidence. These modern reproductions often include seven finger-holes on the front and one on the back, allowing them to be played like recorders. Thus, the gemshorn remains an early music curiosity, with an uncertain repertoire and unclear historical use, though it possesses a haunting and lovely sound.
Today, the gemshorn has been recreated with eight finger-holes, allowing it to be played like a recorder, although it still has a limited range of only a ninth. Instruments are now being produced in various sizes and consorts. However, the historical evidence for the gemshorn remains scarce, and there is no evidence of its use in consorts during the Renaissance.
Five and Six-Hole Pipes
The number of finger-holes a flute has determines how many fundamental pitches can be played before the break to the first overtone occurs. For example, with three holes, a full octave can be played. The kaval occupies a somewhat unique position with five finger-holes, similar to the shakuhachi, though the shakuhachi features a thumb-hole, while the kaval has all its holes on the front.
The term "kaval" is commonly thought to originate from the Arabic root q-w-l (kalima, kalām), meaning “to speak.” A modern word derived from this root is qawwal, meaning "an itinerant musician." It is also possible that the term derives from kav/kov (“hollow”), which is comparable with the Latin tibia—referring to the aulos, a single hollow pipe. Tibia is also used to refer to the shin bone. The term tibia also reappeared in the Middle Ages, together with fistula, referring to musical instruments. Therefore, there are possibilities that the term kaval derives from the aulos (αὐλός): kavalos - kavlos - khaulos.
The Maramureș term for the kaval is fluer lung or fluer mare in Romanian (with caval or kaval being the older Romanian term), kaval or kawal in Bulgarian, furugla or hosszú furulya / hosszúfurulya ("long flute") in Hungarian, and кавал in Russian. In Romania, the kaval typically refers to a long duct flute with five finger-holes in groups of two (low) and three (high), found in regions such as Oltenia, Muntenia, and southern Moldavia.
There is a traditional style of playing the kaval among the Hungarian Csángó minorities in Moldavia, where players sing or growl a low drone while playing the flute. This style creates a third tone, known as the difference tone, which can be distinctly heard.
Another type of kaval is the duct flute found in Hungary and Romania, known as Hosszúfurulya (meaning “long flute”) in Hungary and kaval or caval in Romania. Such instruments may have been more widely distributed throughout the Balkans but were eventually overtaken by the edge-blown kaval. The duct variety typically features five finger-holes and is still found in regions such as Oltenia, Muntenia, and southern Moldavia, where the traditional style of playing with a low drone continues.
In Slovakia, several types of edge-blown flutes are known, such as the lupštik and the kosáčik. Little is known about the kosáčik, but Karol Kočík mentions that it originates from the Liptov region, with Ján Plieštik from Lučatín being famous for producing them. The lupštik, on the other hand, is made from caraway (Carum carvi L.) - a hard dried plant stem. This instrument does not have finger-holes and is played similarly to the tilinca or koncovka. Other edge-blown flutes in Slovakia and Central Europe, such as the Slovak pistalka, are increasingly rare and are being overtaken by the more popular and accessible duct flutes.
Montagu, Jeremy. Origins and Development of Musical Instruments. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, Inc., 2007.
Sekules, Veronica. Medieval Art. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.
Solum, John. The Early Flute. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992.
Articles
Allen, J.R. "Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Times." Philadelphia: George W. Jacobs and Company, 1912.
Barrett, J.H. "A Fipple Flute or Pipe from the Site of Keynsham Abbey." Galpin Society Journal 22 (1969): 47–50.
Bernstein, Lawrence F. “Notes on the Origin of the Parisian Chanson.” The Journal of Musicology 1, no. 3 (1982): 275–326.
Pejović, Roksanda. “A Historical Survey of Musical Instruments as Portrayed in Mediaeval Art in Serbia and Macedonia.” International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music 13, no. 2 (1982): 177–182.
Hall, R. "The Excavations at York. The Viking Dig." The Bodley Head (1984): 115–16.
Lasocki, David. “Juan I and His Flahutes: What Really Happened in Medieval Aragón?” American Recorder, Winter 2017.
Lasocki, David. “Musicque de Joye: Proceedings of the International Symposium on the Renaissance Flute and Recorder Consort, Utrecht 2003.” STIMU, 2003.
Edited Volumes
Brand, Benjamin, and David Rothenberg. Music and Culture in the Middle Ages and Beyond: Liturgy, Sources, Symbolism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016.
Everist, Mark, and Thomas Forrest Kelly. The Cambridge History of Medieval Music. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018.
Everist, Mark. The Cambridge Companion to Medieval Music. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011.
Strohm, Reinhard. The Rise of European Music, 1380–1500. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.
