Although all manuscripts of Skjǫldunga saga have disappeared, parts of this work survive as disiecta membra in eight different texts. The most important of these is the Rerum Danicarum Fragmenta (‘fragments of the history of the Danes’). This work, a Latin rendering of most of Skjǫldunga saga, was written with commentary by the scholar Arngrímur Jónsson in 1596. Arngrímur was the Latin rector of Hólar. He carried out his work presumably there at the request of the Danish diplomat Niels Krag (1550–1602), with whom he had discussed the matter while overwintering in Copenhagen in 1592–93. Krag intended to write a summary of Danish royal history up to the reign of King Knud IV Valdemarsen (c. 1182–1202). Arngrímur's rendering of Skjǫldunga saga covers twelve chapters until a lacuna after Hrólfr kraki, which he filled with other material. Unfortunately he carried on using supplementary sources where his text of the saga resumed, so diverting there to an account of the sons of Ragnarr loðbrók, thereafter to a genealogy for the kings of Sweden which relied on Skjǫldunga saga. The final part of Arngrímur's lost exemplar is believed to have dealt with Sigurðr hringr, Ragnarr loðbrók, Sigurðr ormrí- auga, Hǫrða-Knútr and Gormr the Old, on the grounds that Knýtlinga saga (‘saga of the kindred of Knútr’) begins with Haraldr Gormsson, who ‘var tekinn til konungs eptir fǫður sinn’ (‘was accepted as king after his father’).

Three Paths: Magic, Symbolism, Mysticism

At this point we move on from Part I—skipping over such major events as Faust's seduction of the innocent maid Gretchen and the tragedy that befalls her as a result—in order to turn our attention to what Andrew Jaszi identifies as the other broadly philosophical question of the play, the one that immediately follows from the organizing principle just discussed (“Faust's acceptance of life”):

This chapter describes the emergence and establishment of coming of age celebrations as a feature in the social and cultural life of Wales across the period c.1770–1920. It details the character of these events, how they were planned and prepared, the principal activities and modes of celebration comprising such festivities, the nature and extent of public participation and how the repertoire of celebration evolved across the nineteenth century.

Though the attainment of majority status had long been an important legal threshold and rite of passage in the life-cycles of gentry and aristocratic families across Britain and Ireland, it was not until the eighteenth century that the coming of age of the heir or heiress became a focus for profuse public ceremony and celebration. It was therefore constructed as a new social ceremony, an ‘invented tradition’, albeit one which looked deep into the past for its rhetoric and rationale, appropriating longestablished modes of celebration from other festive occasions. Although there is evidence of earlier coming of age celebrations on estates across different parts of Britain and Ireland, in Wales it was the elaborate public ceremony accompanying the twenty-first birthday and inheritance of Sir Watkin Williams-Wynn of Wynnstay in 1770 which established the status of the occasion as an appropriate focus for vibrant festivity. Thereafter, the coming of age of the heir to a Welsh landed estate, irrespective of the estate's size and status, became an almost obligatory fixture.

Introduction

Around 1300 the expansion period of the high Middle Ages came to an end, and shortly afterwards climate change and disease caused a deep demographic and economic crisis in Europe. In addition to this, the North Sea lowlands were also confronted with environmental challenges partly caused by the large-scale reclamations of the previous period. Changing climate, storm floods and lowering of the surface level of the land led to catastrophic losses of land and lives. The problems were partly solved by less intensive land use and partly by both technological and institutional innovations. The changes of the late Middle Ages would have a far-reaching influence on later developments.

This chapter begins with an introductory section about the main demographic, economic, environmental and political developments in the North Sea area. This is followed by sections regarding the environmental problems in the lowlands, and the technological and institutional response to those problems in the diverse regions of the North Sea lowlands. The consequences these technological and institutional changes had for farming in the area will be dealt with in the next chapter.

Below, I have assembled a small handful of documents, previously either unedited or only obscurely published. My initial purpose was to throw light on the ‘foreign’ (and specifically Parisian) connections of Oliver ‘scolasticus’ and his cathedral chapter at Cologne. This as a supplement to the essay by Thomas Smith in the present volume. From there, however, I have steered towards a more general exploration of relations between England and Cologne's archbishops and cathedral chapter, from the twelfth century onwards. What follows thus supplements not only Smith's work on Oliver but to some extent the chapters in this volume by Jörg Peltzer on the ransom of Richard I, by John Marshall on Anglo-German diplomacy of the 1220s and by Louise Wilkinson on the marriage of King Henry III's sister, Isabella. In all of this I am indebted to earlier attempts to survey Cologne's English connections. In particular, credit here must go both to Joseph P. Huffmann, for his general studies of Anglokölnische political and commercial relations, and to Natalie Fryde, for her work on Thierry (alias Dietrich) ‘Teutonicus’, of Cologne, London and Stamford, for thirty years (through to his death in 1247) merchant, money-changer and English royal diplomat. Beginning then with Oliver ‘of Paderborn’, alias Oliver ‘scolasticus’: for what we know of his residence in or around the schools of Paris, and hence incidentally of his communication with the English colony there, we have until now depended chiefly on the work of Hermann Hoogeweg, published in 1894.

(Bracketed letters indicate sigils assigned to each MS by G.C. Macaulay.) Twelve manuscripts of the Vox Clamantis are currently known. These are:

• 1. Dublin, Trinity College, MS D.4.6 (214). First quarter of the fifteenth century. [T] Contains Quia unusquisque. One of two witnesses of (apparently) the earliest form of the poem, Hatfield House being the other (see below). A poor copy with significant scribal errors.

• 2. Glasgow, University Library, Hunterian MS 59 (T.2.17). Ca. 1400. [G] Contains Cronica Tripertita, Quia unusquisque, Carmen super multiplici viciorum pestilencia, De lucis scrutinio, Est amor, O deus immense, Ecce patet tensus, Rex celi deus (preceded by “Nota Epistolam quam Johannes Gower dum adhuc vixit in laudem Serenissimi principis sui Henrici quarti statim post coronacionem suam ad modum orationis forma subsequente deuote composuit. R [similar small initial] Ex celi deus et dominus qui tempora solus”), O recolende, H. aquile pullus, Quicquid homo scribat [In fine], Unanimes esse, Henrici Regis annus fuit, Presul ouile regis, Cultor in ecclesia, Dicunt scripture, Traitié pour ensampler les amantz marietz; Eneidos bucolis (probably by Gower), full-page archer image with verses Ad mundum mitto (fol. 6v), full page image of a draped bier, two angels above holding shield bearing Gower arms, verses Ora[ntibus] pro anima [Armigeri scutum] (fol. 129v), blot (possibly erased) of a third, fullpage image now missing and too blurred to identify (fol. 131v).

This chapter presents a chronicle of developments in the Israeli music scene over the last decade and a half, as perceived by someone who has personal experience as a composer, performer, and festival director. My account, drawing on the entire history of Israeli music, covers 2010–2020 in detail. While I prepared it for this current volume, more than a year passed since the massacre of October 7, 2023, and both the years of the COVID-19 pandemic and the recent political tensions brought about new musical works and new popular songs, described in the postlude.

Summer of 2013: A Kaleidoscope of Concerts

In the summer of 2013, the renovation of the Heichal Hatarbut (Charles Bronfman Auditorium) in Tel Aviv was completed. Where for years a parking lot stood, the beautiful square of the auditorium and the renewed Habima theater was inaugurated, adorned with a beautiful garden and fountains. The audience discovered the superbly improved acoustics of the renovated hall during the first concerts by the Philharmonic Orchestra. The listeners at the special performance marking a decade since the death of songwriter Ehud Manor (conducted by Ilan Mochiah and featuring the best of Israel's popular singers), or the concert by violin virtuoso Itzhak Perlman, who marvelously played sonatas by Beethoven, Frank, and Tartini with pianist Rohan de Silva, were thrilled by the acoustic experience that awaited them in the space of the old-new hall. I was happy to see the great care with which the preservation work was executed and that the building's exterior itself had not been changed. The hall's old, familiar, and beloved appearance was maintained, but it appeared festive, and its interior heralded a new age.

It has been the aim of this book to trace the role of register and space as autonomous independent parameters, even while interacting interdependently with other primary parameters. Certain strategies and structures have emerged from the analyses which suggest spatial strategies and registral techniques running as threads throughout Beethoven's oeuvre, compositional patterns and gestures which imply and embody a predictive element. In that the analyses have shown Beethoven's use of register operating on both micro- and macro-structural levels in certain consistent ways across the piano oeuvre, it is therefore possible to predicate a theory of register in Beethoven's music on general principles. Such a theory would recognize how, at the large-scale:

• 1 linear patterns produced by extreme high and low registers correlate in direct and diverse ways with formal divisions (e.g. sonata, variation, rondo), enriching the sense of formal function.

• 2 linear patterns shape narrative structure over an entire multimovement work, connecting individual movements, producing (or denying) large-scale implication and closure.

• 3 high and low registral patterns produce narratives and counternarratives which complement high-level tonal and motivic structures.

• 4 high and low ranges are brought into dialogue and interaction via registral pointers and bridges of various spans, often correlating with structural landmarks.

• 5 the distribution of wide spans and registral bridges contribute to structural tension and resolution, reinforcing the narrative drama of a work.

• 6 repeated peak tones, both high and low, are frequently harmonised differently, to enhance teleology with strategic use of tonic harmonisations.

Afrifuturism birthed a new avenue to celebrate African science-fiction work and that of the diaspora, though the genre generally prioritizes work and authors from Africa. Though created by an American, Saul Williams, the cyber-musical Neptune Frost should be considered an Afrifuturist work through hacking, its subsequent metaphors of programing and coding, and the film's metaphysical exploration of technology to creatively reclaim power for Africans in the futurist film and the digital age.

INTRODUCTION

Definition, for Afrifuturism, is malleable but important. The power to define the genre, and who defines it, incurs larger debates about categorization, and how it attracts or is hidden from scholars and audiences alike. Saul Williams's cyber-musical film Neptune Frost exemplifies the tenets of African specificity as proposed by Nnedi Okorafor in her definition of Afrifuturism through its hacking, programming and coding, investing itself in empowering its African characters, and, by extension, its audience, through technology.

Hacking, programming and coding, and technology change the definition of power and who exercises it throughout the film, as will be explained in this aricle. However, the change is not random but fundamentally follows the intention and execution of the contemporary genre: Afrifuturism. The deliberate erasure of Africans, African-Americans, and other BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) led to the emergence of Afrofuturism and Afrifuturism (also known as Africanfuturism) as avenues to engage, create, and evaluate alongside each other in the science-fiction genre. Afrifuturism emerged far later than Afrofuturism: in ‘Black to the Future’, Mark Dery coined Afrofuturism in 1993. Nnedi Okorafor, a Nigerian-American author, conceptualized Afrifuturism in 2019. Afrifuturism encompasses mostly science-fiction from the continent, either retroactively or currently.

This publication was made possible by the generous support of the Czech Science Foundation. It enabled extensive research into the musical and historical materials as well as the presentation of partial results at the Quadrennial Conference of the International Musicological Society in Athens in 2022 and the conference The Bohemian Reformation and Religious Practice in Prague in 2023. We would also like to thank our fellow team members on the project, Jana Franková and Jan Hajič, for their valuable suggestions on the materials and the drafts of chapters.

We are most grateful to the University of Rochester Press and in particular to Ralph Locke for accepting this monograph for publication as part of the Eastman Studies in Music series. Individual chapters have benefited from many valuable comments from two anonymous reviewers whom we would like to thank. Translations of individual studies and improvements to the English texts were undertaken by Radek Blahuta, Scott L. Edwards, Matthew Franke, Rhianydd Hallas, Henry Howard, and Cody M. Perk. Bonnie Blackburn made a significant contribution to the final form and undertook the final copyediting of the whole monograph. Musical note setting was carried out by Petr Koronthály, Rhianydd Hallas, and Jan Ciglbauer.

We owe special thanks to the many colleagues who contributed their expertise to individual chapters: Bonnie Blackburn, Václav Bok, Zsuzsa Czagány, Michal Dragoun, Barbara Eichner, Margot Fassler, Paweł Gancarczyk, Ota Halama, Gisela Kornrumpf, Jindřich Marek, Hana Pátková, Zuzana Silagiová, Pavel Trnka, and Pavel Žůrek. Finally, we would also like to thank Marie Petrášková, former head of the Music Department of the National Library of the Czech Republic, Markéta Kabelková from the Czech Museum of Music, and Gregor Hermann, deputy head of the Ratsschulbibliothek Zwickau, for their support in collecting materials. Finally, we would like to thank the Czech Music Foundation (Nadace Český hudební fond) that supported the print of the publication.

The referents of many of these kennings are contextually determined, i.e. the choice between priest or bishop is based on consideration of the stage of Guðmundr's life to which the narrative relates and not only on the individual kenning patterns.

Kennings

fríðr ættstuðill fyrða ‘the beautiful family-pillar of men [= Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 6/6, 5

vinr skatna ‘the friend of people [= Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 7/6

siðbætir ‘the improver of morals [priest = Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 8/2

eflir víngarðs ‘the strengthener of the vineyard [priest = Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 10/2

eyðir villu ‘the destroyer of false doctrine [priest = Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 11/1

sofanda skóla krafta ‘the sleeping apprentice [acc., or ‘teacher’] of miracles [priest = Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 13/1, 2

birti himna ‘the revealer [acc.] of the heavens [?priest = Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 13/3

vínrýrir ‘the wine-diminisher [priest = Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 14/2

þenna vin guðs ‘this friend [acc.] of God [= Guðmundr]’ Árni Gd 16/2

In 1881 Universalist clergyman, theologian, and university professor Orello Cone wrote, “It would be difficult to assign Lessing to any theological party or definite school of thought. He was not strictly a theologian, although he exerted a most powerful influence on theology.” In so doing, Cone repeated a trope that goes back in part to Lessing himself, who in the introduction to his Axiomata asserted, “Ich bin Liebhaber der Theologie, und nicht Theolog” (I am a devotee of theology, and not a theologian). Here, one finds a parallel to Lessing's assertion that he was not a poet, and, while correct in a sense, this declaration is in essence as inaccurate as the other. Theologian and Lessing specialist Arno Schilson attributes to Lessing “a surprising expertise concerning difficult problems in the field” and a “high degree of knowledge, as well as an acute sense of appreciation of theological problems,” whereas his opponents among theologians “often ranged far below Lessing's intellectual level.” That Cone did not overstate the nature of Lessing's influence relative to both the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is borne out by his own article as well as the vast majority of the writings examined in the present chapter. Indeed, while no definitive study presently exists, there is ample evidence that Lessing's impact on Protestant theology is still felt, at least indirectly, in twenty-first century America as well as in Germany and elsewhere.

It is no secret that religion in the broad sense of Christian praxis was a major force in American culture during the nineteenth century, as it had been since the beginning of the colonial period.

1892 fue un año clave en el hispanismo. Había una “fiebre conmemorativa” (Sebastiani y Marcilhacy 2017: 163; De Mora 2012: 12) en relación con el “Día de Cristóbal Colón [o] “Día de la Raza” (De Mora 2012: 12). Todo empezó en España, y después la Unión Ibero-Americana, junto con la Real Academia de la Historia, organizaron eventos en América Latina (ibid), y estos también se llevaron a cabo en Estados Unidos. En esa misma década, esta visión imperialista española se contrarrestó con la autonomía de Puerto Rico en 1897 y el proceso de independencia de Cuba en 1898, último territorio de España en América Latina. Sin embargo, ante la intervención estadounidense en Cuba en 1898, el término hispanismo vuelve a cobrar relevancia, porque si bien la intelectualidad latinoamericana apoyaba la independencia cubana, no estaba a favor de la intervención estadounidense y prefería una mayor cercanía con España que con el país del norte (Pineda Buitrago 2013). En este contexto, Méndez de Cuenca formó parte de estos intelectuales que realizaron performatividades transculturales atlanticistas, ya que, si bien en sus crónicas rescata aspectos de la modernidad estadounidense, también la critica para reafirmar sus orígenes hispanos. Es a partir del emblemático 1892 cuando esta escritora empieza a enviar sus colaboraciones periodísticas de Estados Unidos a México (Sánchez Sánchez 2011) y, posteriormente, continúa mandando escritos desde el entonces Imperio alemán hasta 1910, cuando regresa a México.