The news has been ablaze this week regarding the burning and collapse of the roof of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris – but I don’t mean to make light of the situation. Terrible puns aside, many people were saddened by the damage, regardless of religious faith or nationality. Humanity has claimed Notre Dame as a universal work of art: loved, admired, maybe even “owned” by all.

What I found fascinating was the immense response on social media. I was amazed at how many of my contacts had a personal connection to Notre Dame, whether it was religious (the seat of the Catholic Church in France), musical (concern for its magnificent organ), artistic (loss of a centuries-old work of art), or just emotional (remember that romantic weekend in Paris? Ahhh…). It’s no surprise that a billion dollars were raised in two days for the restoration of this building.

And of course, since this is 2019, there was an immediate response criticizing the Notre Dame donations as unimportant compared to the ongoing needs of climate change, deep poverty, hunger, sex trafficking, and more. After all, we’re talking about a lump of stones, not human lives. And yet, while those needs are significant, very real, and desperately need to be addressed, I don’t think we should so quickly condemn the efforts to preserve this monument.

Works of art, like Notre Dame cathedral, remind us that we are an insignificant speck in a long history of humanity. The cathedral has been a symbol of France for centuries, and will (probably) remain so until the apocalypse. It might be an active church now, but who knows, one day it might be treated like an ancient Greek temple – a pilgrimage for tourists who care nothing for religion, but instead seek it for its beauty; or perhaps it makes them think about their own mortality and their place in the universe.

And still, from the perspective of the universe, the cathedral went up and burned down in the blink of an eye (not to mention, humanity itself is just a flash in the universe’s pan). Maybe we’re thinking about it all wrong. Maybe all art needs to be treated as fleeting, whether it’s a 5 minute performance that will never be repeated (a jazz improvisation), a drama that enjoys a 50-year popularity (a Rodgers & Hammerstein musical), or a 4000-year-old monument (Stonehenge or the Pyramids). Some art might last longer than others, but really, is 6,000 years of history anything more than a fart in the wind compared to the history of earth?

And so, in honor of France, and Notre Dame, here is the Patrie (Homeland) Overture by the iconic French composer George Bizet.

The books and movies that are set in the medieval era usually portray a positive and a negative side to life in olden times. On one hand, famine, hunger, disease, plague, superstition, wars, cruelty – a harsh life. On the other hand, romance, heroics, bravery, passion, beauty – an over-romanticized vision of a charmingly simple life, without the madness of the modern age.

I am no historical scholar, so I won’t go into how things “really were” because I don’t know. What I do know is that the music of the high gothic era is as beautiful and complex as its architecture and art. If you compare the thick, heavy romanesque buildings of the earlier age to the light, ornate buildings of the gothic era, you can understand the profound difference between the monophonic (one note at a time) plainsong of the early medieval period and polyphonic (many independent notes simultaneously) gothic music.

Pérotin le Grand was one of the few named medieval composers from whom we have music. He is the most famous composer of the Notre Dame School of polyphony, and of the Ars Antiqua (“Old Art”) style. This piece, “Sederunt Principes” sounds a bit strange to our modern ears (each word takes about a minute to sing), but you can’t deny that it’s pretty cool.

I especially like some of the comments on this video: “eeeee e ee ee eee  e ee  ee  ee e e e e  eeee  e e e   ee” Yeah that just about sums it up.