Orlando di Lasso Studies

Orlando di Lasso Studies Orlando di Lasso was the most famous and most popular composer of the second half of the 1500s. This book of essays written by leading scholars from Europe and the United States is the first full-length survey in English of a broad spectrum of Lasso’s music. The essays discuss his large and varied output with regard to structure, expressive qualities, liturgical aspects, and its use as a model by other composers, focusing in turn on his Magnificat settings, masses, motets, hymns and madrigals. His relationship to contemporaries and younger composers is the main subject of three essays and is touched on throughout the book, together with the circulation of his music in print and in manuscript. His attitude toward modal theory is explored in one essay, another considers the relationship of verbal and musical stress in Lasso’s music and what this implies both for scholars and for performers. Peter Bergquist is Professor Emeritus of Music at the University of Oregon. He has edited works by Orlando di Lasso for Bärenreiter Verlag and A-R Editions.

Orlando di Lasso at the age of thirty-nine, from Moduli quinis vocibus (Paris: Adrian Le Roy and Robert Ballard, RISM 1571a), quinta vox partbook, reproduced by courtesy of the Musikabteilung, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich.

Orlando di Lasso Studies edited by peter bergquist

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, São Paulo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 2RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521593878 © Cambridge University Press 1999 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1999 This digitally printed first paperback version 2006 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data Orlando di Lasso Studies / edited by Peter Bergquist. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references. Contents: Aspects of form in Orlando di Lasso’s Magnificat settings / James Erb – Orlando di Lasso and Andrea Gabrieli / Marie Louise Göllner – Post-Tridentine liturgical change and functional music / Daniel Zager – The salon as marketplace in the 1550s / Donna G. Cardamone – Lasso’s “Standomi un giorno” and the canzone in the mid-sixteenth century / Mary S. Lewis – Lasso’s “Fertur in conviviis” / Bernhold Schmid – Orlando di Lasso and Rome / Noel O’Regan – Orlando di Lasso as a model for composition as seen in the three-voice motets of Jean de Castro / Ignace Bossuyt – The madrigal book of Jean Turnhout (1589) and its relationship to Lasso / James Haar – Modal ordering within Orlando di Lasso’s publications / Peter Bergquist – Correct and incorrect accentuation in Lasso’s music / Horst Leuchtmann. ISBN 0 521 59387 5 (hardback) 1. Lasso, Orlando di, 1532–1594 – Criticism and interpretation. I. Bergquist, Peter. ML410.L3075 1999 782´.0092–dc21 98-11734 CIP MN ISBN-13 978-0-521-59387-8 hardback ISBN-10 0-521-59387-5 hardback ISBN-13 978-0-521-02813-4 paperback ISBN-10 0-521-02813-2 paperback

Contents

Preface [vii] List of abbreviations [xi] 21

Aspects of form in Orlando di Lasso’s Magnificat settings [1] james erb , university of richmond

22

Orlando di Lasso and Andrea Gabrieli: two motets and their masses in a Munich choir book from 1564–65 [20] marie louise göllner, university of california, los angeles

23

Post-Tridentine liturgical change and functional music: Lasso’s cycle of polyphonic Latin hymns [41] daniel zager, university of north carolina at chapel hill

24

The salon as marketplace in the 1550s: patrons and collectors of Lasso’s secular music [64] donna g. cardamone, university of minnesota

25

Lasso’s “Standomi un giorno” and the canzone in the mid-sixteenth century [91] mary s. lewis, university of pittsburgh

26

Lasso’s “Fertur in conviviis”: on the history of its text and transmission [116] bernhold schmid, bayerische akademie der wissenschaften, musikhistorische kommission

27

Orlando di Lasso and Rome: personal contacts and musical influences [132] noel o’regan, university of edinburgh

28

Orlando di Lasso as a model for composition as seen in the three-voice motets of Jean de Castro [158] ignace bossuyt, katholieke universiteit leuven

29

The madrigal book of Jean Turnhout (1589) and its relationship to Lasso [183] james haar, university of north carolina at chapel hill

10

Modal ordering within Orlando di Lasso’s publications [203] peter bergquist, university of oregon

v

c o n t e n ts 11

Correct and incorrect accentuation in Lasso’s music: on the implied dependence on the text in classical vocal polyphony [227] horst leuchtmann, bayerische akademie der wissenschaften, musikhistorische kommission

General index [247] Index of Lasso compositions and printed sources [251]

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Preface

Orlando di Lasso (1530/2–1594) was the most famous, popular, and acclaimed composer of his day. Born in Mons in what is now Belgium, as a subject of the Empire, he spent his formative years in Italy, serving as choirmaster at St. John Lateran in Rome when he was barely twenty years old. He soon returned north, however, and settled in Antwerp for a few years until he was hired in 1556 by Duke Albrecht V of Bavaria in Munich, where he lived and worked for the rest of his life. His birth in a French-speaking area and his Italian sojourn together with his long residence in Germany (he probably also visited England briefly in the mid-1550s) made him the most cosmopolitan musician of his day. Early on he was recognized as a leading composer throughout Europe, and publications of his music far exceeded those of any contemporary, or for that matter any other musician for at least a century afterwards. He was especially noted for his ability to convey in music the content of the text he was setting; an early commentator praised his ability to “place the object almost alive before the eyes.” Only during the last ten years or so of his life did his popularity wane, though he composed prolifically almost without interruption through his last years, and his music remained a model and a pervasive influence in Germany well into the seventeenth century. Lasso’s music continues to be highly esteemed today, but he tends to stand in the shadow of his contemporary Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, who is more often taken as the representative figure of the later sixteenth century, especially in settings of Latin texts. Many reasons might be adduced for this preference. One is Lasso’s close attention to the text: when the music is so intimately associated with words, understanding of the text is essential for the listener or student in order for the music to make its full effect, and how many of us today are fluent in Latin? Or in archaic French, German, or Italian, the other languages that Lasso set? Another obstacle to a proper estimate of Lasso’s achievement has been the sheer bulk of his production and difficulty of access to it. The first collected edition of his music, SW, was begun in 1894 and ceased publication in 1927 after publishing less than half of Lasso’s output. SWNR continued this edition after World War II, and only after its completion was all of Lasso’s music finally available in print, though in editions of widely varying quality. Considering that in the same space of time one complete edition of Palestrina and most of a second have appeared, it is not entirely surprising that Palestrina has been more thoroughly studied and understood.

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p r e fac e Lasso has increasingly been receiving his due, however. Through much of the twentieth century the main Lasso scholarship was published in German or French. Studies by Adolf Sandberger and Charles van den Borren remain important; Wolfgang Boetticher’s lists of Lasso sources with a survey of all the music and Horst Leuchtmann’s magisterial biography are essential for any serious study of Lasso.1 Wide-ranging studies like these have not appeared in English. Brief surveys by Jerome Roche and James Haar are valuable, but the only full-length book about Lasso’s music in English known to me is David Crook’s study of the imitation Magnificats.2 James Erb’s annotated bibliography of writings about Lasso is an invaluable guide to publications prior to 1990.3 Papers and essays in English on Lasso have appeared in recent festschrifts and in proceedings of the Antwerp and Munich conferences on Lasso in 1982 and 1994; these publications are frequently cited in the present volume, which is the first compilation of such studies entirely in English. I hope that it will be a useful contribution to the more comprehensive study of Lasso’s music that is urgently needed. Orlando di Lasso Studies begins with three essays on Lasso’s liturgical music for the Munich court, music that was little known until its publication in SWNR, where it occupies twenty-two of the twenty-six volumes. James Erb, who edited Lasso’s Magnificats for SWNR, examines the formal aspects, both small and large scale, of this large body of music. Marie Louise Göllner compares mass settings by Lasso and Andrea Gabrieli found in a Munich manuscript, both based on motets by Lasso. Daniel Zager considers Lasso’s cycle of polyphonic hymn settings in relation to the liturgical revisions promulgated by the Council of Trent that were gradually being established in Bavaria during Lasso’s lifetime. Lasso’s settings of vernacular texts include some of his best-known and most 1

2

3

Adolf Sandberger, Beiträge zur Geschichte der bayerischen Hofkapelle unter Orlando di Lasso, only vols. 1 and 3 published (Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1894–5); Charles van den Borren, Orlande de Lassus (Paris: Librairie Felix Alcan, 1920); Boetticher, Lasso; Leuchtmann, Leben and Briefe. Jerome Roche, Lassus, Oxford Studies of Composers 19 (London: Oxford University Press, 1982); New Grove, s.v. “Lassus” by James Haar, revised and published separately in The New Grove High Renaissance Masters (New York: Norton, 1984); David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation Munich (Princeton University Press, 1994). Crook’s study is a revision of his Princeton dissertation; other dissertations on Lasso have not achieved publication in book form. One regrets the non-existence of Sherlock Holmes’s “monograph upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus,… said by experts to be the last word on the subject” (Arthur Conan Doyle, “The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans,” His Last Bow, concluding paragraph); this is at least an item to consider in the Lasso Rezeptionsgeschichte. James Erb, Orlando di Lasso: A Guide to Research (New York: Garland, 1990).

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p r e fac e popular music. His settings of Italian texts are the most numerous and perhaps the most significant in this category. Donna Cardamone in another of her incisive examinations of Lasso’s early years in Italy throws new light on the dissemination and publication there of Lasso’s madrigals, villanesche, and moresche. Mary Lewis provides close scrutiny of Lasso’s setting of a six-movement canzone and shows how the music’s structure and expressivity work together to build a musical unity parallel to that of Petrarch’s poem. Lasso’s motets include settings of a considerable number of secular Latin texts in addition to the predominant religious subjects. Though classed as motets, some of these pieces are more closely related to the chanson or madrigal, especially those with comic texts or the drinking songs. Bernhold Schmid closely examines the history of one of the latter and the checkered career of its text in publications during Lasso’s lifetime. Lasso’s widespread fame and influence are frequently touched on in the essays already mentioned, and they are the main subject of three other essays. Noel O’Regan provides a complement to Donna Cardamone’s essay in considering the impact of Lasso’s sacred music in Rome, both during the time he worked there and in later years. Ignace Bossuyt and James Haar observe Lasso’s influence in the land of his birth. Bossuyt shows how Lasso’s motets were models for Jean de Castro, especially Castro’s three-voice motets, while Haar considers the 1589 madrigal book of Jean Turnhout in relation to Lasso’s Libro quarto of 1567. The two final papers in the collection view Lasso’s music from a broader perspective. My own study considers Lasso’s practice of representing the eight modes in numerical order in publications throughout his life and the extent to which these publications may represent his own intentions as distinct from those of his publishers. Horst Leuchtmann examines the relationship of verbal and musical stresses in Lasso’s music and draws conclusions for performance and scholarship alike. The frontispiece and the jacket illustration are reproduced by permission of the Musikabteilung, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich. The frontispiece reproduces one of the best available portraits of Lasso. It first appeared in Mellange d’Orlande de Lassus, the collected edition of Lasso’s chansons published in Paris by Adrian Le Roy and Robert Ballard in 1570 (RISM 1570d) and was included in their Lasso prints for the next ten years.4 It depicts Lasso at the age of thirty-nine years, which means that the engraving dates from 1569, since Lasso through most of his life believed that he had been born in 1530.5 The jacket picture shows the beginning of 4

5

Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 253–4. The date “1560” in the lower-right corner of the decorative frame is unrelated to the portrait itself. Ibid., p. 45.

ix

p r e fac e Lasso’s “Magnificat Ultimi miei sospiri”, as copied 1579 in Mus. Ms. 11 of the Munich collection. The reproduction in Mary Lewis’s paper of the text of Petrarch’s “Standomi un giorno” as edited by Gianfranco Contini and translated by James Wyatt Cook is by permission of the Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, State University of New York. This collection of studies had its inception in a conference on Orlando di Lasso held at the University of Oregon, Eugene, Oregon, 23–25 October 1994. Five of the participants in that conference are represented in this volume (Cardamone, Erb, Göllner, Haar, and Bergquist), though not with the papers that were delivered on that occasion. The conference was possible in large part because of the initiative and support of Anne Dhu McLucas, Dean of the School of Music, University of Oregon. After the conference she took the first steps in exploring the publication of augmented conference proceedings, the result of which was ultimately the present collection of studies. I am more grateful than I can hope to say for her contributions to making this volume possible and for her continuing interest and active support as the project evolved. I am also grateful to my colleagues and friends Marian Smith, University of Oregon, James Erb, University of Richmond, and David Crook, University of Wisconsin, for help with various stages of the project, and to my wife, Dorothy Bergquist, who has always been a careful reader and astute critic of just about everything I have ever written. Above all, my deepest thanks go to my colleagues who so willingly contributed to this volume. peter bergquist university of oregon

x

Abbreviations

Boetticher, Lasso Wolfgang Boetticher, Orlando di Lasso und seine Zeit. I. Monographie. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1958. CM Orlando di Lasso, The Complete Motets. Ed. Peter Bergquist with David Crook and James Erb. Madison: A-R Editions, 1995– . KBM 5/1 Martin Bente et al., Bayerische Staatsbibliothek. Katalog der Musikhandschriften: I Chorbücher und Handschriften in chorbuchartiger Notierung. Kataloge Bayerischer Musiksammlungen, Band 5/1. Munich: G. Henle, 1989. Leuchtmann, Leben Horst Leuchtmann, Orlando di Lasso: I. Sein Leben. Wiesbaden: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1976. Leuchtmann, Briefe Horst Leuchtmann, Orlando di Lasso: II. Seine Briefe. Wiesbaden: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1977. MOM Orlando di Lasso, Magnum Opus Musicum. Munich: N. Henrici, 1604 (RISM 1604a) New Grove The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. Ed. Stanley Sadie. London: Macmillan, 1980. Orlandus Lassus and his Orlandus Lassus and his Time. Colloquium Proceedings Time Antwerp 24–26 August 1994. Ed. Ignace Bossuyt, Eugeèn Schreurs, and Annelies Wouters. Yearbook of the Alamire Foundation, 1. Peer: Alamire, 1995. RISM Répertoire international des sources musicales. Einzeldrucke vor 1800. Series A/I. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1971– ; Recueils imprimés XVIe–XVIIe siècles, Series B/I. Munich: Henle, 1960. Citations from Series A/I use the form 1555a rather than L 755 when possible. SW Orlando di Lasso, Sämtliche Werke. Ed. Franz Xaver Haberl and Adolf Sandberger, 21 vols. Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1894–1927. Reprint, 1973. SW2 Orlando di Lasso, Sämtliche Werke: Zweite, nach den

xi

a b b r ev i at i o n s Quellen revidierte Auflage. Ed. Horst Leuchtmann. Wiesbaden: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1968– . SWNR Orlando di Lasso, Sämtliche Werke, neue Reihe. Ed. Siegfried Hermelink et al. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1956–96.

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1

Aspects of form in Orlando di Lasso’s Magnificat settings james erb

The fundamental, text-generated contour of polyphonic Magnificat settings in the late sixteenth century, familiar to most students of that era’s music, has recently been outlined in the first chapter of David Crook’s exemplary new study of Lasso’s Magnificats.1 However, since virtually all vocal music ultimately takes its form from its text, and since form is the topic of this essay, it may be useful to review that contour before going into the specifics of form itself. The Magnificat is the closing element at Vespers, belonging to the species of ritual lyrics of scriptural origin known in the Roman rite as “canticles.” These lyrical texts, which resemble psalms in their devotional, often ecstatic, tone, also resemble psalms in having individual verses of bipartite structure – that is, each verse has two parts, generally of parallel or appositive content. Though these two parts are often of unequal length, it is customary for the sake of brevity to refer to them as “halves.” The text of the Magnificat comes from Luke 1: 46–55. To these ten verses of Scripture are added, in liturgical use, the two verses of the standardized Lesser Doxology (“Gloria Patri et Filio . . . et in saecula saeculorum. Amen”), so that the text of the sixteenth-century Magnificat has, in all, twelve verses. At Vespers on any given day an antiphon proper to the day is sung before the chanting of the Magnificat,and again after it.The antiphon’s text, appointed to a particular day, is sung to its own tune in one of the eight modes of plainchant. The repertory of plainchant psalmody provides a set of eight standardized “Magnificat tones,” and the twelve verses of the Magnificat are chanted to whichever of these melodic formulas corresponds to the mode of the Magnificat-antiphon proper toVespers on that day. 1

David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation Munich (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), pp. 3–14.

1

ja m e s e r b Initial flourish

V œ œ œ œ 9.Su - sce - pit 10.Sic - ut lo

-

Reciting tone

Medial flourish

œ œ œ œ

–

Israel cutus est

pu ad

-

e - rum su - um, pa - tres no- stros,

Reciting tone

Terminal flourish

–

recordatus Abraham et

œ œ œ œ

misericor semini ejus

di - ae su - ae. in sae - cu - la.

Example 1.1: Magnificat, tone 8, verses 9 and 10

Magnificat tones consist of a single, modally characteristic pitch, called the “reciting tone,” to which most of the text in a given verse is chanted. It is notated in indeterminate length so that it can be used to sing any number of syllables. This reciting tone has an identifying tessitura characteristic of the mode with which it is associated (i.e., tone 1 with mode 1, tone 2 with mode 2 and so on). The characteristic reciting tone is preceded by an equally characteristic opening melodic flourish. A medial flourish occurs between the first appearance of the reciting tone and its continuation in the second half of the verse; and a terminating flourish closes the verse. For example, two successive verses chanted to tone 8, with its reciting tone on c⬘, preceded, interrupted and followed by the initial, medial and terminal flourishes, would be written as in Example 1.1. The intimate connection between the mode of the antiphon and the Magnificat tone directly affects polyphonic settings based on them. In Lasso’s time it was already a long-standing custom that such settings would use one of the eight Magnificat tones as a cantus firmus. The dimensions and structure of Magnificat tones determine the form and, less directly, the dimensions of polyphonic Magnificat settings. Relatively few polyphonic Magnificats of the period are composed as a single long motet set in polyphony throughout. More often we find alternatim Magnificats, i.e., those with the verses sung to chant and polyphony in regular alternation. Lasso left no settings of the odd-numbered verses; in all but four of his Magnificats he set only the even-numbered verses in polyphony, leaving the odd-numbered verses to be performed in chant or on the organ.2 In doing so he followed the prevalent custom of Magnificat composition of his time. Settings of only the six even-numbered verses 2

The four exceptions: Nos. 35, 64, and 65 (a8), and 102 (a10). All employ cantusfirmus technique. Reference to specific Lasso Magnificats, here and subsequently, is to the complete edition in SWNR, vols. 13–17.

2

as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s greatly outnumber those of only the odd-numbered verses in sixteenthcentury Magnificat settings.3 A reason for this preference for the evennumbered verses might be that setting the even-numbered verses has two advantages: first, in intoning the first verse, the cantor and his small choir of chant singers can give the pitch at the start and reinforce the relationship to the mode of the preceding antiphon; and second, a setting that concludes in polyphony makes a more impressive close than a quieter (and possibly anticlimactic) close in plainchant. The distinction between this primarily esthetic consideration, in contrast to the routinely utilitarian purpose that the Magnificat served as accompaniment to a ritual act, is central to this study. Whatever the disposition of the verses set in polyphony, the Magnificat tone determined to a significant degree their tonal dimensions (cleffing and tessitura, the appropriate tonal frame and modal final); more to the point of the present study, the text provides the backbone of the structure upon which the monophonic verses were sung, and upon which polyphonic settings were traditionally made. The tones determine the dimensions and structure of the polyphony, so to speak, as the dimensions and structure of a boat’s keel determine the structure of the boat.4 Table 1.1 represents this outline, which constitutes the norm for almost all Lasso’s Magnificat settings. In the ninety-seven alternatim Magnificats credibly ascribed to Lasso, two choirs of unequal size normally performed in alternation: the schola cantorum, a group of four or five singers trained in plainsong, chanted the Magnificat-antiphon and sang the odd-numbered verses of the Magnificat (unless these were played on the organ – see below); the choir, made up of some twelve to twenty-four trained specialists, sang the six even-numbered polyphonic verses.5 Original sources for Lasso’s alternatim Magnificats contain only the six polyphonic, even-numbered verses ascribed to him. The scribes and 3

4

See Winfried Kirsch, Die Quellen der mehrstimmigen Magnificat- und Te Deum Vertonungen bis zur Mitte des 16. Jahrhunderts (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1966), p. 44. The history of polyphonic Magnificat settings from their beginnings in the fifteenth century is summarized in MGG, 8, cols. 1484–5, and in New Grove, s.v. 5 Cf. SWNR, vol. 13, pp. xi–xii. “Magnificat.”

3

ja m e s e r b Table 1.1 Overall form in Lasso’s Magnificats Verses given here in normal type are sung in plainsong (Schola cantorum) Verses given here in italics are sung in polyphony (Choir)* (A) ANTIPHON (Schola cantorum) (B) MAGNIFICAT Schola cantorum (chant) alternating with Choir (polyphony) Verse 1: Magnificat / anima mea Dominum (12) Verse 2: Et exultavit spiritus meus / in Deo salutari meo (19) Verse 3: Quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae / ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes (35) Verse 4: Quia fecit mihi magna qui potens est: / et sanctum nomen ejus (19) Verse 5: Et misericordia ejus a progenie in progenies / timentibus eum (25) Verse 6: Fecit potentiam in brachio suo: / dispersit superbos mente cordis sui (24) Verse 7: Deposuit potentes de sede, / et exaltavit humiles (18) Verse 8: Esurientes implevit bonis: / et divites dimisit inanes (20) Verse 9: Suscepit Israel puerum suum, / recordatus misericordiae suae (23) Verse 10: Sicut locutus est ad patres nostros, / Abraham et semini ejus in saecula (24) Verse 11: Gloria Patri, et Filio, / et Spiritui Sancto. (16) Verse 12: Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, / et in saecula saeculorum. Amen. (25) (C) ANTIPHON (reprise – Schola cantorum only) Note: *The diagonal line in each verse shows the location of the caesura; the number in parentheses at the end of each verse gives its length in syllables.

printers who produced these sources (dating c. 1565–c. 1630) clearly took it for granted that the users would know what to do about the odd-numbered verses, and most of these users would have been professional church musicians familiar with the appropriate service books and liturgical practices. These practices (e.g., the degree of solemnity and, consequently, the number of participants at any given Vespers) varied from one parish to another even within one diocese. In addition to singing the odd-numbered verses in plainchant they certainly also included playing them on the organ, as surviving sixteenth-century manuscript collections of organ verses for the Magnificat attest. Conversely, the scarcity of polyphonic settings of Magnificat antiphon texts – even by Lasso – suggests that these were rarely if ever sung in the place of plainchant antiphons, and that, since a schola cantorum was available for that purpose, they also chanted the antiphons. Even when, as was quite common, local dialects of chant differed from the one 4

as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s Lasso used as cantus firmus for his settings,6 or even when the polyphonic part of the Magnificat was based on music from outside the plainchant repertory – that is, constituted an “imitation” or “parody” Magnificat – professional church musicians would have used their own sources to sing (or play) the odd-numbered verses to the appropriate Magnificat tone.

Overall form The term “overall form,” as used here, refers to relationships among the twelve verses of Lasso’s alternatim Magnificats. These relationships are many-sided, but one can discern recurrent patterns. The first has to do with length. In Lasso’s huge output of Magnificats the length of individual works varies considerably, and of course one wonders why. In his notes to Breitkopf ’s Palestrina edition, Franz Xaver Haberl notes that at solemn Vespers while Palestrina was choirmaster at St. Peter’s in Rome, each participant was individually censed during the singing of the Magnificat, and since at solemn Vespers in so important a church there were many participants, the Magnificat needed to be a quarter of an hour long. The censing requirement, he says, explains the grandiose dimensions of Palestrina’s third and fourth sets of Magnificats (200–75 measures for the six polyphonic verses alone).7 Investigation into relationships between Bavarian liturgies and musical style in Lasso’s liturgical music, called for years ago by James Haar and now under way,8 may lead to reasonable explanations of the great range in the dimensions of Lasso’s Magnificats: from barely more than 40 measures to well over 200. Such external factors as Haberl mentions were surely fundamental to the musical form of much liturgical music of Lasso’s time; but other factors less objective and more esthetic in nature appear to have been equally 6 7

8

See SWNR, vol. 13, p. xv, n. 9. Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, Werke: Erste kritisch durchgesehene Gesamtausgabe, 33 vols. (Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1862–1907), vol. 17, p. i. Reference is to Nos. 17–32 in that edition (pp. 79–237). New Grove, vol. 10, s.v. “Lassus [Lasso]. Franco-Flemish Family of Composers,” pp. 480–502, esp. p. 487b. David Crook’s chapter on vespers polyphony for the Bavarian court and the local usages in the time of the Council of Trent, Imitation Magnificats, pp. 33–64, makes a substantial contribution in this direction.

5

ja m e s e r b important. This study proposes that demonstrable features of structure in Lasso’s Magnificat settings show that, while composing music to existing formulas and patterns for the Bavarian court chapel, he also followed principles that were purely musical. The article on musical form in the old Harvard Dictionary of Music makes a useful distinction between the form of a piece of music on the one side and, on the other side, the form in it (i.e., the shape of the events that take place within the fixed elements of that outline).9 Table 1.1 above diagrams the form of a Lasso Magnificat, its six plainsong verses alternating with Lasso’s six polyphonic verses. The overall form in such a piece is evident in the manner in which Lasso arranged relationships between the six polyphonic verses so as to create, in the succession from one to the next, unified and yet remarkably varied designs of musically satisfying proportions. No one can claim that Lasso was unique in this respect, but I hope to provide a glimpse of his manipulation of formal units, both within the overall frame and within the frame of individual verses, so that we can then compare his practices to those of his contemporaries and deepen our perspective on the nature of form in all the music of his time. The basic traits of overall form in Lasso’s Magnificats are consistency of style and length between the several verses, regular reduction of the number of voices in certain verses, and a tendency to treat the thematic material more freely in the inner verses than in opening and closing verses. These three traits, though strongly influenced by ritually conditioned externals like providing music for a procession or for the censing of participants, are primarily esthetic (as distinct from utilitarian) in nature. Like Magnificats by Morales, Gombert, Clemens, Senfl, and Palestrina, Lasso’s settings display among their constituent verses a consistency both of dimension and of style. Requirements of a particular Vespers may have determined whether the Magnificat as a whole was to be long or short; but a composer’s care for its proportions within that desired length will have been a matter of musical judgment alone, affected only tangentially by external considerations. It is true, of course, that in the six evennumbered verses which normally make up a Lasso Magnificat the lengths of 9

Willi Apel, ed., Harvard Dictionary of Music. Second Edition, Revised and Enlarged (Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1969), pp. 326–8.

6

as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s texts do not cover a wide range: the final verse is longest with twenty-five syllables, and the two shortest each have nineteen syllables (see Table 1.1). Lasso’s settings of these verses might therefore be expected to have similar dimensions, and generally they do. Even so, the first and last verses tend to be a little longer than the others, the last verse so regularly that its greater length constitutes a norm. Its longer text doubtless contributes to this status, but in most Lasso Magnificats the nature and structure of the final verse reflects as much a need to create an impressive close as to accommodate the longest text. Lasso always uses all the voices in the opening and final verses (and nearly always in verse 4). In a few earlier Magnificats he even increases the number of voices in the last verse, a fact that strengthens the impression of a conscious effort to compose an effective close. The second trait of style in overall form is that Lasso, like other composers of his time, reduces the number of voices in certain verses of the Magnificat (as also in his masses and larger motets); for instance, in a fivevoice Magnificat he will set one or more of the three inner verses (6, 8, or 10) for only three voices. These verses were perhaps meant for soloists, but in the Munich manuscript sources for Lasso’s masses and Magnificats the application of divisi notation to individual voice-parts at cadential points suggests that this may not always have been the practice. Such reductions of the number of voices rarely occur more than twice in any one Magnificat. Reduction of voices in verse 4 occurs only in Magnificats 62, 80 and 94. Item 3 in Table 1.3 below represents one of them, showing how Magnificat 80 repeats a pattern of upper-voice trios in each of the four inner verses. These trios in verses 4, 6, 8 and 10 of Magnificat 80 may obliquely refer to angelic choirs of treble voices, evoked by its model, Cipriano de Rore’s setting of Petrarch’s “Vergine bella” (Canzone 366, first stanza). The two other works named display comparably symmetrical patterns, but offer no such reasons for Lasso’s having made them: Magnificat 62 (SWNR, vol. 15, pp. 126–37) is configured SSATTB–BBB–TTT– AAA–SSS–SSATTB, and Magnificat 94 (SWNR, vol. 17, pp. 14–30) SAATBB–TB–SAA–SATB–SAATBB–SSAATTBB. It will be noted that the thinning of texture in verse 4 is peculiar to these three works, in which the overall formal plan evidently took precedence over Lasso’s otherwise consistent practice of setting verse 4 for the full complement.A reduced combination involving the same voices may occur more than once in a Magnificat 7

ja m e s e r b (see Table 1.3, No. 3, verses 4, 6, 8, 10), but never in two successive verses. Its purpose is clearly not only to illustrate the text on occasion, but equally to offer variety of sonic texture. The third trait of overall form is that borrowed monophonic or polyphonic themes regularly receive freer treatment in certain verses. This trait is linked to the reduction of the number of voices, because wherever such thinning-out occurs, free use of the model unavoidably and thus characteristically occurs along with it. The expression “free use of the model” here distinguishes between strict and unembellished quotation from whatever piece supplied the thematic material, be it a plainsong Magnificat tone serving as the cantus firmus, or a polyphonic model. For instance, in verse 2 of Magnificat 16, tone 8 is clearly quoted in the tenor; 10 but if one compares it to the standard chant formula, a modest degree of variation on it is apparent. In four-, five- or six-voice Magnificats derived from comparable polyphonic models, verses scored for fewer voices than the model typically treat the borrowed material, as noted above, with greater freedom. In both cantus-firmus and parody Magnificats free treatment of the model also occurs in verses employing all the voices; but among all the Magnificats this free treatment is more consistently characteristic of verses 6, 8 or 10 than it is of verses scored for the full complement.11 Winfried Kirsch and Gustave Reese, writing of sixteenth-century Magnificats as a whole, attach text-illustrative significance to the frequent thinning of texture in verse 8 in polyphonic Magnificats (“Esurientes implevit bonis”), suggesting that it symbolized the “hungry ones” referred to in the first half of the verse.12 Lasso often used such obvious opportunities for text-illustration as well, of course; but even so, the Magnificat verse in which he most often reduces the number of voices is not verse 8, but verse 10 (“Sicut locutus est”), where opportunity for text-illustration through a palpable change in texture is less obvious. This fact suggests that 10 11

12

SWNR, vol. 13, pp. 227–9. Analysis of four parody masses selected from the whole chronological range of Lasso’s mass output yielded a correlation between reduction of voice-parts and free treatment of the model comparable to that observed in the Magnificats. Winfried Kirsch, Quellen, pp. 49–50; Gustave Reese, “The Polyphonic Magnificat of the Renaissance as a Design in Tonal Centers,” Journal of the American Musicological Society, 13 (1960), p. 77.

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as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s Table 1.2 Pattern of altered scoring and treatment of themes in Lasso’s Magnificats Alteration of number of voice-parts: Treatment of themes:*
↓ ↓ Absent or rare → Vs 2 Vs 4 Vs 12 ← Usually strict | | | | 苴苴苴苴苴苴苴苴苴苴| 苴苴苴苴苴苴苴苴苴 | | Frequent → Vs 6 Vs 8 Vs 10 ← Usually free Note: * “Strict treatment” of borrowed themes here indicates that in which the borrowed material is quoted without substantial change (e.g., an unembellished cantus firmus in long notes in the tenor, or a nearly direct quotation from a polyphonic model); “free treatment” designates degrees of metamorphosis in which the borrowed material is only perceptible or is only present as a structural principle (e.g., as an altered harmonic progression or as a mutant succession of intervals drawn from the model).

Lasso may have desired the change in texture near the end of the piece merely to enhance the effect of the upcoming final verse, and that a juxtaposition of textures may have mattered as much to him as would the occasion to practice the text-illustration for which he was repeatedly praised in his own time. Table 1.2 represents the typical pattern of the relationships between the number of voices in a given verse and the degree of assimilation or free treatment of the borrowed material. No single Lasso Magnificat conforms to this scheme in all particulars, of course; but traces of it do appear in all of them regardless of chronology and style, and regardless of whether the model is monophonic or polyphonic. Nor does it appear in either of the two Lasso Magnificats that seem to be freely composed on invented themes.13 For the sake of illustration, Table 1.3 shows, in five representative Magnificats, the range and degree of conformity to the prototype described above. A survey of all 101 authentic Lasso Magnificats shows the proportion 13

Of the authentic Lasso Magnificats, this applies only to Nos. 72 and 94 (SWNR, vol. 16, pp. 14–24, and SWNR, vol. 17, pp. 14–30, respectively). Magnificat 67 (SWNR, vol. 15, pp. 201–11) seems also to be freely composed, but is not considered here because it is spurious (see ibid., pp. xi–xii).

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ja m e s e r b Table 1.3* Overall form in five Lasso Magnificats (1) SWNR, vol. 13, pp. 106–21: Magnificat 7 (c. 1565), a6, cantus-firmus setting of tone 7 Verse: 2 4 6 8 10 12 Length in breves C: 27 24 27 25 23 32 Treatment of model: x x (x) (x) x x Voices employed all all all SSAT ATTB all (2) SWNR, vol. 14, pp. 126–32: Magnificat 37, tone 1 (14 October 1583), a4, parody on Si par souhait (model: Lasso, a4) Verse: 2 4 6 8 10 12 Length in breves C: 12 10 17 15 18 16 Treatment of model: x x (x) (x) x x Voices employed all all TB all SA all (3) SWNR, vol. 16, pp. 108–19: Magnificat 80, tone 1 (1585–90), a5, parody on Vergine bella (model: Rore, a5) Verse: 2 4 6 8 10 12 Length in breves C: 22 20 22 21 20 20 Treatment of model: x (x) (x) (x) (x) x Voices employed all SSA SST SSA SST all (4) SWNR, vol. 14, pp. 49–60: Magnificat 30 (c. 1565), a4, cantus-firmus setting of tone 6 Verse: 2 4 6 8 10 12 Length in breves C: 29 29 25 27 29 39 Treatment of model: x x x – x x Voices employed all all SA all ATB SSATB[!] (5) SWNR, vol. 15, pp. 212–27: Magnificat 68, tone 6 (c. 1585), a6, cantus-firmus setting on Dies est laetitiae (model: anonymous cantio) Verse: 2 4 6 8 10 12 Length in breves C: 15 21 27 17 21 26 Treatment of model: x x (x) x x x Voices employed all all SS all SAT all Note: * The sign “x” (underlined) stands here for strict quotation of a complete psalmodic cantus firmus, or, in the parodies, for nearly direct quotation of at least half a verse from a polyphonic model; “x” (not underlined) stands for incomplete reference to a cantus firmus, or for substantially altered quotation of polyphony; “(x)” in parentheses stands for indirect, barely perceptible, reference to borrowed material, be it monophonic (from a plainsong cantus firmus or a single identifiable melodic strand from a polyphonic model); a dash stands for absence of reference to the model, thus for free composition on invented themes. Uppercase letters indicate voice parts: S: Superius; A: Altus; T: Tenor; B: Bassus.

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as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s of more thinly scored verses to be lowest in those pieces set for four voices, probably because four-voice settings, being usually shorter, create less need for variety of sonic texture. The Magnificats for five, six and eight voices, with richer texture and concomitant greater length, offer a potentially greater variety of sound, while at the same time their greater length creates a need for that variety. Other usages suggest that structural considerations motivated the reduction of voice-parts. As already noted, Lasso rarely uses the same combination twice in one work; and furthermore he generally reduces the number of voices by two: in the six-voice Magnificats some combination of four voices is most common, in the five-voice works it is the trio, and in those for four voices the duo – all presumably in order to make more clearly audible the difference in the sonic texture. The manifold ways in which Lasso uses the overall form in the Magnificat – that is, the relationships between its six polyphonic verses – within the traditional layout of it show a care for balanced proportions for their own sake, and for achieving variety and effect in the overall acoustical pattern by reducing – or occasionally increasing – the density of the scoring. This, along with the absence of any tendency to compose to a formula or stereotype, is the outstanding trait of overall form in Lasso’s Magnificats. It is appropriate that witty and often profound application of textillustration is often adduced to explain the popularity of Lasso’s music in his time; but there are other qualities, too. His workmanlike attention to proportion and balance in the overall form of his Magnificats will also have been a factor. His care for structural clarity within the prescribed outline indeed has much in common with that of his contemporaries; but this body of works all on the same text, in numbers left us by no other composer, affords an overview of Lasso’s assiduous care for musical form and thereby provides a standard of usage and of quality to which other compositions – even those of a different species – might profitably be compared. In that respect the corpus is unique.

Verse form The term “verse form,”as used here, refers to relationships among the component parts in the six polyphonic verses of Lasso’s alternatim 11

ja m e s e r b Magnificats. This form is based on the matrix for the individual verses represented in Table 1.1. The matrix derives from the species of composition (canticle), and this species in turn originates in a quasi-psalmodic text. It is also governed by the characteristic bipartite form of psalmodic plainchant verses, represented in Table 1.1 by the divisions shown in each verse. Some of the identifiable traits that emerge are standard for their time, others more nearly Lasso’s own. The central trait is the form A–B, a pattern imposed on the composer of Magnificat verses by the tradition of cantus-firmus composition in liturgical music. Cantus-firmus technique was already old-fashioned by the time Lasso’s earliest Magnificats appeared around 1565; and though his reputation as a composer of this vespers canticle owes much to his having been the first to apply parody technique to it repeatedly, nearly two thirds of his settings are composed on traditional psalmodic plainsong cantus firmus.14 In the corpus of Lasso’s Magnificat settings its influence is pervasive. The last chord in each verse, for instance, generally has as its root the final of the Magnificat tone, even when that pitch (as is often the case in plainchant Magnificat tones) differs from the final of the corresponding mode; and while the cantus firmus on occasion may be freely or obliquely stated in superius or altus, or even occasionally in bassus, it generally inhabits the tenor, dutifully performing its traditional function as “holder” of thematic material received from the cantus firmus. The tessitura thus given by the plainchant-derived cantus firmus affects the general pitch-orientation of the tenor part, which in turn affects the tessituras of the other parts. In a Lasso Magnificat of tone 4, for example, the tenor’s tessitura is low because the ambitus of the melodic formula of tone 4 is low in plainchant (e–c⬘), and the tenor voice-part has a clef appropriate to that tessitura, c4. For comparable reasons, the tenor in one of his cantus-firmus settings of tone 7 is high because the tessitura of tone 7 is high (a–d⬘); and the tenor part of a Lasso cantus-firmus Magnificat of tone 7 has the high ambitus and the clef appropriate to it, c3. In any Lasso 14

Pietro Pontio, writing in 1588 after the majority of Lasso’s parody Magnificats had been composed, still prescribes cantus-firmus technique as the norm for composing Magnificats and other canticles. See his Ragionamento di Musica (Parma, 1588), facs. ed., with note by Suzanne Clercx, in Documenta musicologica 16 (Kassel and New York: Bärenreiter, 1958).

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as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s Magnificat, the ambitus derived from the tessitura of the tenor affects the range and cleffing of the voices composed to accompany the tenor, with the result that the ambitus of all the voice-parts in a Lasso Magnificat of tone 4 (for example) is comparatively low, and (for example) in one of tone 7 it is high.15 The medial cadence that marks the mid-verse caesura in any Lasso Magnificat also makes itself felt in various ways, depending on the degree of freedom he takes with the materials in a given verse. In thus displaying these traits of cantus-firmus technique, individual verses in Lasso’s cantus-firmus Magnificats reflect the bipartite structure of the Magnificat tones of plainchant. The ever-returning chant in the oddnumbered verses and the more or less constant presence of the same chant formula in Lasso’s polyphonic verses, through points of imitation based on its initial melodic flourish, through the characteristic tessitura and cleffing generated by its reciting tone, and through references to its terminal flourishes at the ends of the verses, generate a contour and modality of the Magnificat tone that permeates the whole composition. More than a third of Lasso’s Magnificats, however, are based not on the psalmodic Magnificat tones, but on a wide variety of nonpsalmodic models from the polyphonic repertoires of chanson, madrigal, and motet, and even on a few nondescript compositions of other kinds. None of these displays anything resembling psalmodic verse structure. In spite of this radical difference in the structure of the forms upon which Lasso draws, the forms of these nonpsalmodic models have no effect on the form of the verse in a Lasso Magnificat. Instead, many of a given model’s constituent elements – melodic fragments,chord progressions, rhythmic patterns, successions of intervals, combinations of textures – receive totally new treatments, revealing new relationships and aspects, often only remotely related to their original context. In this rich variety of recomposition (which also involves imitation of the style of the model), the form of the verse remains as firmly bipartite as in the cantus-firmus Magnificats based on the plainchant Magnificat tones. 15

These descriptions are simplified for the sake of brevity. Within the parody or “imitation” Magnificats the verse form remains constant, but the patterns of tonal relationships vary considerably from those described here, especially in settings of tone 7. See the exhaustive study of tonality in Lasso’s Magnificat settings in Crook, Imitation Magnificats, pp. 85–146.

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ja m e s e r b The consistency of contour in the verses, which holds Lasso to the bipartite structure of psalmody, regardless of the origin of their themes and their original treatment, is the most significant aspect of form in his Magnificat settings.Whatever the model’s structure, Lasso reconforms it in a given Magnificat verse to the A–B mold of plainchant psalmody. As noted earlier, the traditional structures and requirements of texts set for liturgical use were in the latter half of the sixteenth century a compelling priority. Lasso’s concern with building a musical form around the skeleton of an authorized text may even help us understand why sixteenth-century musicians (doubtless most of the time meeting the requirements of their patrons) seem to have found no incongruity in setting venerated sacred texts to musical material derived from pieces that originally had profane or indecent texts. The transformation thus effected – in Lasso’s parodies, at least – may have done more than erase the incongruity. It may even have been thought to have sanctified what had been profane.16 The division between sections A and B of each verse is invariably marked by a primary medial cadence that corresponds to the caesura in the text (see above, Table 1.1) and to the medial flourish in psalmodic plainchant. Primary medial cadences in Lasso’s Magnificat verses reveal themselves at those points where the text of the first half of the verse ends and that of the second half begins. Full stops at medial cadences, with simultaneous fermatas or following in all voice-parts (such as regularly occur in English Magnificats from the Eton Choirbook to Byrd),17 do appear in some early Lasso Magnificats as archaic rarities or as a recurrent feature in the seven short,idiosyncratic quasi-falsobordone Magnificats a5 of the 1580s.18 Much more normal, however, is the practice typical in Lasso’s motets, where the text in the several voices overlaps between the end of one segment and the beginning of the next, as one may see in Magnificat 16, verse 4, mm. 16–19, and Magnificat 58, verse 2, mm. 9–13.19 Other internal cadences that do not 16 17

18

19

Crook, Imitation Magnificats, pp. 207–9. The Eton Choirbook Magnificats are in Musica Britannica, 12 (London: Stainer & Bell, 1961), those by Tallis in Tudor Church Music 6 (London: Oxford University Press, 1928), pp. 64–72 and 73–84; and those by Byrd in Tudor Church Music 9 (1928), pp. 90–106, 111–18 and 190–212. Munich, Bavarian State Library, Mus. ms. 2748, originally copied contiguously on fols. 52–96 (SWNR, vols. 14 and 15, as Nos. 47 and 51–6). See SWNR, vol. 13, pp. 230–2 and SWNR, vol. 15, pp. 58–61, respectively.

14

as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s conform to this simple standard, like the five that occur in Magnificat 38, verse 6, mm. 8–12,20 can be regarded as secondary. In polyphonic Magnificat verses with bipartite structures thus descended from both a bipartite text and a tradition of bipartite monophonic chant formulas, text underlay plays a decisive role in clarifying form. In the huge posthumous Magnificat collection Iubilus B. Virginis . . . Centum Magnificat (RISM 1619a), editor Rudolf di Lasso, Orlando’s son, several times obscured the primary medial cadence in individual Magnificat verses through what appear to be arbitrary changes of text underlay. An example of this problem occurs in Magnificat 16,21 where the primary medial cadence of verse 4 clearly comes on the C major chord at the beginning of m. 17: the functioning bass moves V–I at mm. 16, third note, to 17, first semibreve (tenor g, then bassus c), and the same measures have clausulae in the upper three voices, creating the audible cadence that begins m. 17. The unmistakably cadential flavor of these measures is supported by the text underlay in the earlier sources for Magnificat 16, preparation of at least four of which Lasso directly or indirectly supervised.22 In both the posthumous edition and the early sources the first words of section B (“et sanctum nomen ejus”) enter in tenor at m. 16, note 3, one minim before the last syllable of section A (“est”) in the altus (m. 17, note 1). The posthumous edition, however, gives the text “et sanctum nomen ejus” to superius 2 already at the second note of m. 15, note 2 (g⬘), anticipating by six minims the entrance of the next text segment and obscuring the originally distinct medial cadence. In vocal polyphony of the time discrete textual segments routinely overlap in this manner at cadences, sometimes even by several measures; but here is an instance in which a posthumous editor inexplicably ignores a structural caesura that is characteristic of the genre and that clearly is present in authoritative earlier sources, a cadence that the text in the other voices clearly confirms. This seemingly trivial editorial blunder indicates carelessness toward customs carefully observed by earlier scribes and printers, customs that in this instance directly affect form and structure. The two sections of Lasso’s Magnificat verses, effectively separated by 20 22

21 SWNR, vol. 13, pp. 230–32. See SWNR, vol. 14, pp. 135–6. See SWNR, vol. 13, p. lxix, s.v. “16. Magnificat Octavi Toni, Quinque Vocum . . .,” regarding sources A, B, E, and Mü22.

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ja m e s e r b the medial cadence, can usually also be distinguished from each other by use of contrasted themes, textures or techniques, and by contrasting combinations of these. The degree of the contrast will vary from one verse to the next, and it is more distinct in Magnificats we can consider late than in those we know to be early. Seldom do sections A and B have the same length in any verse (compare, for instance, Magnificats 38 and 16, cited below), but the degree of that inequality, like the degree of contrast, varies greatly from verse to verse, and also between early Magnificats and late. In early Magnificats both parts of the verse tend to have about the same length; in later ones, oftener than not, the second section of the verse is longer, and more likely contains written-out structural repetition such as one finds at the ends of chansons and madrigals, in which the bass repeats while the upper voices exchange parts the second time. For example, “Fecit potentiam,”verse 6 of Magnificat 38, a parody on Claudin’s “Il est jour,”23 presents two very unequal sections separated by a clearly defined, early medial cadence (m. 3, second semibreve). Striking contrasts between the textures and themes in sections A (mm. 1–3) and B (mm. 3–15) and the use of varied multiple subordinate sections in section B are features typical of Lasso Magnificats written after 1575. Despite exact parity between the two halves of the text (nineteen syllables each), the proportion between sections A and B is conspicuously unequal, 1 : 4. Lasso’s manipulation of the subdivisions determines the musical proportions of the verse. Section A has no subordinate sections, while section B has five, each marked off by subordinate cadences of varying finality and clarity: mm. 6 and 8, second minim; m. 9, third minim; and mm. 11 and 13, first minim. The bassus from mm. 7, fourth minim to 11, second minim, is repeated immediately in mm. 11 to 15; and the upper voice-parts of the corresponding portions of mm. 7 to 11 are interchanged in mm. 11 to 15. Tenor sings what had been altus, altus what had been superius, and superius what had been tenor, with the result that mm. 11 to 15 constitute a lightly varied reprise of mm. 7 to 11. The rhythmic augmentation on the word “mente” in m. 13 provides the only salient element of variation. Lasso’s early Magnificats (Nos. 1–32) usually display a consistency of texture throughout the verse that distinguishes them from later works rep23

SWNR, vol. 14, pp. 133–40.

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as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s resented by the example just cited from Magnificat 38. This consistency in the earlier Magnificats arises from their more melismatic, contrapuntal style, with its slower harmonic and syllabic rhythm. An example from such an early work, Magnificat 16 (c. 1565), has already been examined; another, showing a different manipulation of verse form, comes from the middleperiod Magnificat 58 (c. 1575–1585).24 Each exhibits conservative style, which differs from that represented by Magnificat 38. The consistently smooth rhythmic and contrapuntal texture in verse 4 of Magnificat 16 and in verse 2 of Magnificat 58 contrasts noticeably with the agitation and differentiation between the two segments of Magnificat 38, verse 4. So also does the more nearly equal balance between the two sections in the verses cited from Magnificats 16 and 58. In the verse from Magnificat 16, section A takes up mm. 1 to 17, first minim, and section B, with a short overlap of texts, takes up mm. 16 to 32, a proportion of nearly 1 : 1. In the above example cited from Magnificat 58, section A takes up mm. 1 to 10 and section B takes up mm. 9 to 25, a proportion of approximately 2 : 3. At this point we may recall that in the verse from Magnificat 38 the dimensions of section A to section B stand in a proportion of 1 : 4. The medial cadences in both the two earlier examples are indistinct, the subordinate sections longer, fewer and less strongly differentiated than those in the later one. Like the diagrams of representative overall forms shown in Tables 1.1 and 1.3, these three examples display the range of Lasso’s use of conventional bipartite structures, i.e., of the forms in the music he composed upon the frame of the authorized traditional text forms of the Magnificat. The relation these forms have to style, and style to chronology in general, may be summed up in two sentences: (1) Long Magnificats in smooth imitative-melismatic style usually can be shown to originate from sources prepared earlier than the sources for short Magnificats in a syllabic, rhythmically agitated style. (2) Magnificats consisting of verses in which the two sections are similar in length and texture usually can be traced to early sources; those in which the two sections differ from each other in length and texture usually come from later sources. For the sake of balance, I should add to this observation another: that 24

SWNR, vol. 15, pp. 58–73.

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ja m e s e r b since Magnificat 58 is based on Verdelot’s morose “Ultimi miei sospiri” (1541), a relatively early model, one might expect it to have a more conservative style, even if composed in the 1590s, because, however radically Lasso’s parodies may manipulate and disperse the material received from their models, they characteristically assume their styles.25 In addition to this consideration, the source for Magnificat 58 is also one of the earliest we have for those Lasso settings that do not belong to the first thirty-two Magnificats in the complete edition, all of which date from the 1560s.26 The tendency for parodies to mimic the style of their models undermines the credibility of stylistic analysis as a criterion of chronology, at least so far as Lasso’s Magnificats are concerned. Magnificat 90, a cantus-firmus setting upon the plainchant hymn “Pange lingua,” is notably more conservative in style than most of the others in its earliest source, where it is dated 5 January 1584; but because of Lasso’s habit of adapting his parody settings to the style of the models, its style is alone insufficient reason to assume it was composed earlier than that year.27 Form in Lasso’s Magnificat settings exists parallel to the given liturgical context and its requirements of length and style. His musical forms, to be sure, can be properly understood only with reference to that liturgical context, but his use of overall form (the relationship among the verses) and his use of the verse form (the relationship between the component parts of each verse) show the operation of his musical judgment in regions where liturgical usage seems to have only tangential influence, if any at all. Much of what has been said here about form in and of Lasso’s Magnificats can most probably be said about other Lasso works, too. In his masses, for instance, there are comparable interrelationships between the length of the text and the lengths of his settings – Kyrie and Credo (to name the shortest and longest texts). Without going into detail, I can report that an investigation of these relationships revealed a care for purely musical 25 26

27

Crook, Imitation Magnificats, pp. 206–9. See SWNR, vols. 13–14 (Magnificats 1–32) and SWNR, vols. 14–15 (Magnificats 33–70). On the dating of Magnificat 58, see SWNR, vol. 15, p. xxvii, s.v. “Lesarten / Titel,” explicitly establishing the earliest date for Magnificat 58 at September 1579. See SWNR, vol. 16, pp. 241–58, and ibid., pp. x and xxxi.

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as pe c ts o f f o r m i n l as s o ’ s m ag n i f i c at s et t i n g s proportions that is only tangentially related to the number of syllables in the text, and that parallels the care for musical proportion for its own sake that appears to be inherent in Lasso’s Magnificat settings. Still, formal traits in a uniquely large number of settings of the one text, such as are described here, are hardly likely to be peculiar to this species of Lasso works, nor even to Lasso. Rather, we might begin inquiring about the degree to which the traits mentioned above correspond to those found in comparable works of other composers. That Lasso was both extremely productive and very highly regarded is obvious from the number of his surviving compositions and the number of contemporary printed and manuscript sources for them that are so widely distributed in Europe. But in what ways is he unique? We may only have begun to surmise whether the Magnificats of Morales, Gombert, Clemens, Senfl, and Palestrina – to name Lasso’s closest competitors in quantity of settings of this very widely composed canticle – contain traits parallel to those mentioned above; and if so, why; and if not, why not.

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2

Orlando di Lasso and Andrea Gabrieli: two motets and their masses in a Munich choir book from 1564–65 marie louise göllner

In the year 1563 Orlando di Lasso succeeded Ludwig Daser as Kapellmeister at the court of Albrecht V in Munich. From the evidence presented in a small group of choir books written around this time and now held in the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich, the composition of parody masses by members of the chapel itself had taken on increased importance for the group of composers who worked with the new director. Whereas most manuscripts from the early 1560s still contained masses written either by Daser himself (e.g. Mus. Ms. 18) or by other well-known contemporaries, such as Clemens non Papa or Cipriano de Rore or even Palestrina (e.g. Mus. Mss. 40, 45 and 46), four choir books, all written around 1565, are devoted principally to parody masses by Lasso and the new circle of composers around him (Mus. Mss. 17, 51, 54, and 2746). These include minor figures, such as Johannes Lockenburg, Gottfried Palmarts and Johannes Flori, as well as the better-known Ivo de Vento and Anton Gosswin, but two names stand out in particular, namely Lasso himself and Andrea Gabrieli, the latter represented by no fewer than four masses.1 Within this group of choir books, Mus. Ms. 17 stands out both by virtue of its external features and the uniformity of its contents. It seems to have held a special place of honor. Decorated with exceptionally ornate initials, it is among the first, if not the first, to have been copied entirely by Franz Flori, who was to become Lasso’s main scribe. It contains five parody masses, composed by Lasso, Andrea Gabrieli, Ivo de Vento, and Johannes Flori, all based on motets, in contrast to the other manuscripts mentioned above, which reflect the still dominant preference for secular models. The 1

Two in Mus. Ms. 17, one each in Mus. Mss. 54 and 2746. For descriptions of these manuscripts and their contents see KBM 5/1.

20

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i order of the contents appears to have been carefully thought out, beginning with the mass by Lasso as Kapellmeister and followed by two masses by Gabrieli, the distinguished visitor from Venice.Although one of these two is based on a motet by Gabrieli himself, all of the other models are by Lasso. Also unusual is the exact dating of two of the masses, those by Lasso (“Anno 1565 / Complevit 13. Januarii” = date of composition; and “finis anno 1565 die 24. februarii” = completion of manuscript copy) and by Flori’s son (“Anno 1564”). With the single exception of the last, all of the masses and most of their models are composed for six voices, including the rather unusual combination of two deep bass voices. This apparently reflects the presence at that time of two outstanding bass singers in the chapel, Franz Flori himself and Franz Pressauer, both of whom were paid salaries almost commensurate with that of the Kapellmeister himself.2 Gabrieli further adds a seventh voice for the Agnus Dei in both of his masses. The manuscript thus seems to reflect a special purpose in its creation, the desire to celebrate an exceptional situation of which Gabrieli is the focus. Since only a total of seven masses by Gabrieli, who is known mainly for his madrigals and instrumental works, have been preserved,3 this emphasis provides significant support for the thesis that a stay at the Bavarian court may account for at least the latter part of the “lost years” in his biography between 1557 and 1566, the year he was appointed organist at St. Mark’s in Venice.4 In this connection several additional facts should be mentioned. The collection in which Gabrieli’s motet was printed, Sacrae cantiones . . . liber primus, for five voices, published in Venice in 1565, is dedicated to Duke Albrecht: “Illustrissimo et excellentissimo Principi D. Alberto Palatino Rheni Comiti, et Utriusque Bavariae Duci . . . Andreas Gabrieli humillimus servus.” And a copy of this print is included in the volume from the Ducal 2 3

4

See Boetticher, Lasso, pp. 161–2. The parody masses, including the two from Mus. Ms. 17, are printed in Gabrieli’s only mass publication, Primus liber missarum (Venice: Gardano, 1572). The editors of Gabrieli’s collected works, David Bryant and Martin Morell, suggest several possibilities for Gabrieli’s whereabouts during this time, including Munich and Milan. See “A Documentary Biography,” Edizione Nazionale delle opere di Andrea Gabrieli [1533]–1585, vol. I: Introduzione Storico-Critica (Milan: G. Ricordi, 1988), pp. 74–5.

21

marie louise göllner Library which is still preserved with its original binding in the Bavarian State Library under the call number 4 Mus. Pr. 135.5 Within this collection of fourteen sets of partbooks, dating mainly from the years 1565–6, it is the only item not devoted to works by Lasso – again a sign of special recognition. Since all of these distinctions are concentrated around the same two years, 1565–6, it would seem likely that Andrea Gabrieli’s association with the Munich court was a direct one during this time, subsequently interrupted by his appointment to the post at St. Mark’s in Venice. The choice of models for the masses, as indicated above, was somewhat unusual for the time. It seems to have indicated a conscious desire to explore the possibilities of composing a mass on a motet rather than on chansons or madrigals and to use six voices, utilizing the two prominent bass voices of the chapel, rather than the usual four or five voices of the secular models.6 As Lewis Lockwood has shown, the newer imitative motives of the motet had a direct effect on the composition of masses based on them,7 necessitating the development of new techniques. This may well have accounted for the still noticeable preference for the simpler four-voice chansons as models in the 1560s. The clear melodic contours of the latter, corresponding to the lines of poetry, were generally easier to adapt to the new surroundings than the often irregularly formed and frequently overlapping motives of the motet. The new technique, however, based on brief melodic motives in all voices rather than on single melodic lines, had its advantages. It allowed for far greater flexibility and thus for greater variety 5

6

7

Although the present ex libris dates from 1629 and the rule of Kurfürst Maximilian I (see Fr. Dressler, Die Exlibris der Bayerischen Hof- und Staatsbibliothek [Wiesbaden: O. Harassowitz, 1972], number B3), it is too large for the partbooks and was pasted over the earlier version from 1618 (the first ex libris used at the Bavarian court). The volumes were assembled in 1566 or very shortly thereafter. They include four sets of Lasso’s chansons (1564–6), four of his madrigals (1555–66), the Sacrae Lectiones of 1565 and four books of Lasso motets (1565–6), these last preceded by the 1565 print of Gabrieli’s motets for five voices. For a detailed listing of Lasso’s parody masses with their models and dates see Rufina Orlich, Die Parodiemessen von Orlando di Lasso. Studien zur Musik, Bd. 4 (Munich: W. Fink, 1985), pp. 12–13 and 165–6. Lewis Lockwood, “A View of the Early Sixteenth-Century Parody Mass,” Queens College 25th Anniversary Festschrift (Flushing, NY: Queens College Press, 1964), pp. 53–77.

22

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i in its application, as evidenced in the many different kinds of imitation, or parody, masses from the second half of the sixteenth century.8 This variety can also be observed among the masses contained in Mus. Ms. 17. The approach to composition was, for example, fairly straightforward in the case of the masses by Gabrieli and Ivo de Vento based on sixvoice settings of hymn texts by Lasso.9 The multiple partes of these models (four in each case) provided a clear choice of motives, i.e., the beginnings of each pars, for the different sections of the mass. None the less, two very different approaches to their composition could be identified: a systematic use of these motives by Gabrieli to achieve balance and symmetry, as against the selection of individual motives, often from within the sections, of a particularly striking nature (e.g. the long upward runs of the two bass voices) by Ivo de Vento. The two masses by Lasso and Gabrieli on shorter motets of their own composition present quite different problems, out of which again two very different works emerge, each with a highly individual approach to the concept of parody. Both Lasso’s six-voice motet “Locutus sum in lingua mea” and the mass based upon it were published only subsequent to the completion of the choir book containing the mass, again an indication of the difficulty of dating works from their appearance in printed form.10 Like the two hymn texts and their masses in Ms. 17, both are set for cantus, altus 1 and 2, tenor, and bassus 1 and 2 – emphasizing, that is, the lower register. They are composed in the phrygian mode, and the motet is based on two 8

9

10

For a discussion of the terms used in the titles of these masses see Lockwood, “On ‘Parody’ as Term and Concept in Sixteenth-Century Music,” Aspects of Medieval and Renaissance Music: A Birthday Offering to Gustave Reese (New York: Norton, 1966), pp. 560–75. ”Jesu nostra redemptio” and “Vexilla regis prodeunt.” See Marie Louise Göllner, “Lassos Motetten nach Hymnentexten und ihre Parodiemessen von Ivo de Vento und Andrea Gabrieli,” Orlando di Lasso in der Musikgeschichte. Bericht über das Symposion der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften München, 4.–6. Juli 1994 (Munich: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), pp. 87–100. The motet in Gerlach’s Selectissimae Cantiones in 1568 (RISM 1568a) and the mass only much later as a separate publication by Le Roy and Ballard in 1587 (RISM 1587b). The motet can be found in modern transcription edited by Peter Bergquist in CM, vol. 6, pp. 47–55, the mass by Siegfried Hermelink in SWNR, vol. 7, pp. 89–134.

23

marie louise göllner Cantus

Altus

& 24 4 V2

∑ W Lo

w

w

Lo

-

cu

w #w -

cu -

w

w

tus

-

tus

w sum

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w sum in

lin- gua me

Ó ˙ ˙ w in

lin -

˙ -

a,

˙ w gua me -

Example 2.1: Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 1–5, cantus and altus 1

psalm verses,11 features which have, as we will see, an important influence on the music and its adaptation to the mass. Two features of the motet stand out immediately: the long passages of imitation between the two bass voices, which exchange motives throughout most of the work, and the frequent alternation between different groups of voices, either four plus four or three plus three (see, for example, the beginning of the second part, mm. 50–66, in which the combination of voices changes continually). There is, in other words, a strong tendency towards antiphonal singing, a practice which is, of course, typical of the psalms. The phrygian mode, in its turn, exerts a powerful influence on the melodic contours and their motives. The motet begins with the motive shown in Example 2.1, each of the six voices entering in turn with either the original form or its inversion, both of which emphasize the half-tone step characteristic of the mode. This,however, with its leap of the fifth, e–b, resembles very closely the beginnings of a variety of other works from the sixteenth century in the phrygian mode, the most famous being Luther’s chorale, “Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu Dir.”12 In the motet the mode is further evident 11

12

The text is taken from Psalm 39 [38]: 3–4: “Then spake I with my tongue: Lord, make me to know mine end and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am”; and (Part II) Psalm 86 [85]: 17: “Show me a token for good; that they which hate me may see it and be ashamed: because Thou, Lord, hast helped me and comforted me.” (Translations from the King James Bible.) One of Luther’s earliest chorales, derived from Psalm 130, it was published in the Geystliche gesangk Büchleyn (Wittenberg, 1524). The same initial formula can be found in many secular songs of the time as well, e.g. Paul Hofhaimer’s, “Mein’s traurens ist” or the anonymous “Dich als mich selbst,” published in Arnt von Aich’s Liederbuch of 1512 (both edited in H. J. Moser, Paul Hofhaimer [Stuttgart and Berlin: Cotta, 1929/R1965], Part 2, pp. 72 and 160) and later set by Ludwig Senfl (ed. A. Geering in Das Erbe deutscher Musik, 10 [Wolfenbüttel and Berlin: Georg Kallmeyer Verlag, 1938], no. 13).

24

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i

Vœ œ œ 6

6 œ œ

œ.

œ

œ.

6

œ

œ

œ

œ

œ

œ

œ.

(a) 

Cantus

Motive A

& 24

Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ . œ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

(b)

in lin - gua me

-

a, in

lin - gua

˙ œ #œ # œ ˙ w me

-

a:

Example 2.2: (a) Psalm tone 4; (b) Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 10–14, cantus 

Motive B

Bassus 1

?C

Bassus 2

?CÓ w ˙ ˙ w

w ∑

et

„

con - so - la -

∑ ˙ w tus

es

˙ ˙ ˙ w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

et

con- so - la

„

-

tus es

„

w me,

∑

me,

Example 2.3: Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 75–80, bassus 1 and 2

in the recurring cadences centered around a–g()–a. These exhibit a great many variants throughout the work, but their resemblance to the main psalm tone for the fourth mode with its reciting tone on a is scarcely coincidental (see Ex. 2.2). In composing this motet, then, Lasso relied rather heavily on characteristics which would have been familiar to him from other practices, both sacred and secular, and which in this case are almost more important than any relationship to the specific text itself. The latter, to be sure, is also evident at various points, for example the strong cadence of all six voices together on “finem meum,” and the subsequent rapid entrances on “et numerum” (mm. 21–4). The highly expressive setting of the final phrase of text, “et consolatus es me,” is stressed through frequent repetition, culminating on the highest tone of the cantus and introduced in imitation by the two bass voices (see Ex. 2.3). The characteristics peculiar to the motet also form the basis of its adaptation to the text of the mass, a subtle relationship which would scarcely be possible in setting a model by a different composer and which often defies the more obvious “rules” of the parody mass. Although, for example, four of the five main movements do begin as expected with the leap of a fifth that derives from the main motive of the motet, the fairly 25

marie louise göllner 

Cantus

Secunda pars

&C∑ w

Fac

˙ ˙ ˙. œ œœ˙ w me- cum si

-

gnum

Example 2.4: Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 52–4, cantus

w ˙ œœœœ 

Bassus 1

?C

Bassus 2

?C w Ó ˙ œœœœ w

ut sci

(est:)

-

ut sci

˙ ˙

˙ ˙

am quid de - sit

-

˙ ˙ am quid

˙ ˙ ˙ Ó

œœœœ

mi - hi,

sci

˙ ˙

de - sit

ut

˙ ˙ mi - hi,

w

w

-

am

w

sci

-

am

Ó ˙ œœœœ w ut

Example 2.5: Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 34–9, bassus 1 and 2

inconspicuous motive at the beginning of its second part (Ex. 2.4) is used only twice. Instead of the latter, two other motives from the interior of the motet (motives A and B; see Exx. 2.2 and 2.3), both emphasizing the halfstep of the phrygian mode, play an unusually prominent role even at the beginnings of sections. A contrasting motive, the quarter-note run from c to g and its inversion in imitation in the two bass voices, can be found frequently within the movements (see Ex. 2.5). The mass, then, may be outlined as follows (unless otherwise indicated the sections employ all six voices and are in common time): Kyrie I – Part I of the motet (a longer quotation: mm. 1–14 of the mass = mm. 1–14 of the motet) Christe – new plus end of Part I of the motet (a longer quotation: mm. 33–46 of the mass = mm. 33–46 of the motet with mm. 37/3–39/3 of the latter rewritten) Kyrie II – motives A and B combined (mm. 71/4–end of the mass = mm. 92/4–end of the motet) Et in terra pax – Part II of the motet (a longer quotation: mm. 1–14 of the mass = mm. 50–63 of the motet, with many adaptations to fit the new text) Domine Deus – a2; Part II (variant) plus motive B Qui tollis – motive A; begins in 3/2 meter Quoniam tu solus – motive A Patrem omnipotentem – Part I, different order in entry of voices Crucifixus – a4; Part II Et in spiritum – motive A

26

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i Sanctus – Part I: Cantus and Tenor in cantus firmus style; different counterpoint in other voices Hosanna in excelsis – motive A Benedictus – a3; variant of motive B (= end of Part I) Agnus Dei – Part I (similar to Kyrie I)

In this mass Lasso couples Kyrie and Gloria in his presentation of the main material, bringing longer quotes of the two parts of the motet at the beginnings of these two movements rather than in the different sections of the Kyrie. The end of the Christe is notable for its almost exact quotation of the closing measures of the motet, a curiosity observed in Ivo de Vento’s mass on “Jesu nostra redemptio” as well.13 Three of the inner sections are written for fewer voices, but none of them, not even the Hosanna, is written entirely in triple time, although this meter is used very briefly at the beginning of the “Qui tollis” and at two points within the Credo (“Et iterum venturus est cum gloria judicare” and “Et unam sanctam catholicam”). There does exist, then, a certain system in the presentation of the main motives at the beginning, in the differentiation between main and subsidiary sections and in the correspondence between the beginnings of Kyrie and Agnus Dei to each other and to the model. The main unifying elements within the movements, however, are the ubiquitous variation of the psalm-tone cadence (motive A) in the top voice and the ending motive B in the bass voices on the one hand and the alternation among groups of voices and imitation between the two bass voices on the other. These can be quoted directly from the model, as at the beginning of the Kyrie, or simply employ the same technique, as in the passage from the Gloria shown in Example 2.6.14 As we have seen, all of these elements were prominent in the motet as well. Lasso was thus certainly justified in emphasizing these aspects of the model rather than following the more usual practice of singling out partic13

14

See Göllner, “Lassos Motetten nach Hymnentexten,” pp. 97–8 (Ivo de Vento) and Robert Wilder, The Masses of Orlando di Lasso with Emphasis on his Parody Technique, Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1952 (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 1958), microfiche, p. 188 (Lasso). For a longer passage in which the three higher voices alternate with the three lower see mm. 58–78 of the Credo, at the words “descendit de caelis et incarnatus est,” culminating in all six voices on “et homo factus est.”

27

marie louise göllner

w ? Ó ˙. œ˙ ˙. œ˙ ˙. œ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ 

Bassus 1

?

Bassus 2

Do - mine

De

-

us,

˙. œ ˙ ˙. œ˙ w

Do - mi- ne De

-

us,

Rex

˙ œœœœ ˙ Ó w

coe- le - stis, w w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ Rex

coe - le

-

stis,

De - us

Pa

Ó ˙ œœœœw De - us



w

∑

w -

ter

w

Pa

w -

ter

Example 2.6: Lasso, “Missa super Locutus sum,” Gloria, mm. 29–35, bassus 1 and 2

ular motives for frequent repetition. Only the Kyrie and the beginning of the Gloria present longer quotations of all of the voices from the model. One final curiosity, certainly intended to call the listener’s attention to the model, is the sudden reduction of all six voices to strict homophony on the words “qui locutus est”in the Credo (mm. 136–7). Gabrieli’s motet “Pater peccavi,”in contrast to Lasso’s “Locutus sum,” was written for five voices only, with two in a high register (cantus and quintus), to which a second bassus was added for the mass.15 Using a wellknown responsory based on the story of the prodigal son,16 it is anchored solidly in the lydian mode, a choice which again had clear consequences for the music of both motet and mass. Employed almost as a transposition of Glarean’s more modern ionian mode, it enabled Gabrieli, the organist, to emphasize entirely different aspects of the music from those observed above in the Lasso works. Gabrieli’s motet and mass thus afford a clear contrast to the latter, reflected, for example, in the frequent emphasis on the vertical element as opposed to the horizontal. This is particularly evident in 15

16

The motet was published in the above-mentioned collection of 1565, the mass in 1572 (see note 3 above). To date neither the motet nor the mass has appeared in modern edition, including the published volumes of the collected works currently in progress (see note 4 above). Measure numbers in the examples given here refer to sections of the Gloria and Credo. Responsory for the first Saturday after the second Sunday in Quadragesima, from Luke 15: 17–19, but in reverse order: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee. And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of the hired servants”; and Part II, beginning with verse 17: “How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough...and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father and will say unto him: make me as one of thy hired servants.” This text, including the repetition of the final line and its music as dictated by the responsory, was also set by Lasso in the early 1560s for the same combination of voices. See SW, vol. 7, pp. 24–31, and CM, vol. 17.

28

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i Cantus

&bC

Quintus

&bC

Altus

VbC

Ó ˙.

W o.

Sur

Bassus

VbC ? C b

-

˙. Sur

Tenor

Sur

˙ œ œ œ. œw J

˙ o.

˙ W re - o.

˙.

-

-

gam,

w gam,

˙ œ œ . Jœ .

Sur

sur

∑

-

œw -

Ó ˙

œœ w œ œ . œJ

˙.

Sur

œ

sur

gam,

œ œ œ. œw J ˙ ˙.

gam, sur

w

Ó ˙

Ó ˙

w

∑

∑

w

˙ œ œ . Jœ



W œ œ . Jœ

w gam,

˙.

j œ œ. œw

sur

-

gam,

sur

W

w -

w

˙.

gam,

sur

˙ œ œ . Jœ .

˙ œ œ . œJ -

œ œ . œw œ J

œw

˙ ˙ gam, et

j˙ ˙ œ œ.œ ˙ gam, et ˙ ˙ w

-

gam, et

∑

w gam,

Ó ˙. sur

Ó j œ œ.œ w -

˙ w et

i

w gam,

Example 2.7: Gabrieli, “Pater peccavi,” mm. 86–91

the many skips of fourths, fifths, and octaves in the bass voice, in the use of motives built around the triad f–a–c, and in the straightforward rhythmic dependence on the semibreve, features which are emphasized even more in the mass (see Exx. 2.7 and 2.8). In contrast to Gabrieli’s rather conventional adaptation of Lasso’s hymn-motet “Vexilla regis”to the mass in Ms. 17,17 his treatment of his own motet as model is in many respects unorthodox, frequently emphasizing the features just mentioned rather than concentrating on the repetition of prominent motives – with one significant exception, as we will see. The added bass voice, in particular, often serves as a harmonic foundation, and even passages in imitation tend to reinforce the main triad on f–a–c. The passage from the motet shown in Example 2.7 is adapted to various parts of the mass (see Exx. 2.10b, 2.10f, 2.11, and 2.12 below). In addition to the regular rhythmic emphasis on the semibreve, various passages of the Gloria and Credo proceed in almost recitation-like fashion, as shown in Example 2.8, where the five upper voices all come together on the word “simul.” The motet itself contains three main points from which motives would most likely be taken: the beginning of each of the two parts and that of the responsory’s repetendum, “Fac me sicut,” the last two very similar to each other (see Ex. 2.9). These are in fact presented as the main motives of the three parts of the Kyrie, but only Kyrie II brings a longer quotation in all voices, from the beginning of Part II of the model. And subsequent movements are very free in their presentation of these motives. This is due at least 17

See Göllner, “Lassos Motetten nach Hymnentexten,” pp. 92–5.

29

-

marie louise göllner Cantus

&b

˙ ˙ w

„

pro - ce - dit Quintus

Vb

Tenor

Vb

Bassus 1

Bassus 2

?

?b

˙ . œ ˙ ˙ nw

qui

cum pa- tre et fi- li- o

si - mul a - do - ra

w tur

˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

si - mul a - do - ra

-

tur

ce - dit qui cum

si - mul a - do - ra

-

tur

-

tur et

˙.

œ ˙ œœ ˙˙w

qui

cum pa- tre et fi- li- o

pa- tre et fi - li - o, qui cum pa- tre et fi- li- o

„

˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

ce - dit qui cum

b

œ ˙ œœ ˙˙w

-

&b „

Altus

˙.

pa- tre et fi - li - o, qui cum pa- tre et fi- li- o

˙ ˙. ˙ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

ce - dit

∑

quicum

˙. œ qui cum

∑

„

˙ œ œ˙ w

pa- tre et fi - li - o

˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙

w w

˙

w

w

si - mul a - do - ra

˙. œ ˙

pa- tre et fi - li - o

˙

˙. œ ˙ ˙

w

˙ ˙

˙ ˙ Ó ˙

si - mul a - do - ra - tur

∑

∑

˙. œ ˙ ˙ si- mul

w

a - do - ra

w -

tur

et

w et

Example 2.8: Gabrieli, “Missa super Pater peccavi,” Credo, “Et iterum venturus est,” mm. 29–34

in part to the intimate relationship of the initial motive of the motet to its text: the word “Pater,” set apart as the agonized cry for help from the sinner to the Father. Although all of the main movements except the Agnus Dei contain some reference to this beginning, it is frequently limited to the downward leap of a fourth or third as in the Gloria, the Sanctus and the Benedictus. Only the Kyrie and Credo, beginning significantly on the words “Kyrie” and “Patrem,” make more extensive use of the initial phrase of the model. The remaining two motives are so similar to each other that it becomes difficult to distinguish between them. Gabrieli finds an intriguing solution to these problems. As the mass progresses, he makes increasing use of an unassuming subsidiary motive found near the beginning of the motet: the falling fourth, which is presented there as the two successive components of the descending octave f⬘–f, divided between the two inner voices, altus and tenor (marked in Ex. 2.9a by an asterisk, mm. 3ff ). Although it would scarcely attract any attention at all in this form, the falling fourth becomes a central unifying factor within the mass. It is not only the frequent occurrence of this motive which is so striking, however, but the way in which it is used. Presented almost exclusively in longer notes (semibreves or breves), its prominence increases throughout the course of the mass (see Ex. 2.10a–f). Since the Kyrie opens with a relatively brief (five 30

Prima pars

(a)

&b C∑

Cantus

w

w

Pa

-

&b C„

Quintus

W

Altus

Vb C

Tenor

Vb C„

w

-

-

ter,

w

ter,

Pa

w

w

Pa

-

˙

˙

ter,

pec

w

-

ter,

ter,

w ∑

&b w vi,

W Vb

w -

W

-

Vb W

˙ ˙

bw

w

w

ter,

∑

pec -

Pa

w

Pa

-

-

b „

-

vi,

ca

W

„

-

˙ w

-

vi,

pec - ca

˙

ter,

pec -

W

w

ca

-

-

vi,

-

ter,

˙ ˙

?b w

˙

Fac

˙

me

œ œ œ ˙ -

w

Ó

num,

∑

w fac

w

w -

∑

˙

si - cut

vi,

w

vi

in

w

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

ter, pec - ca

˙

vi,

pec - ca

W

˙ ˙ w -

-

W

w

w

w

˙ ˙ w

pec - ca

w

˙ ˙ ter,

ter,

Pa

„

? „ b

-

„

-

ter,

&b

u

w

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

Pa

„

w.

Pa

˙.

w

„

-

vi,

Pa - ter,

[Repetendum]

&b

˙

vi,

ter,

˙ ˙

ca

-

∑

Pa

Bassus

-

ter,

„

Pa

Cantus

˙

ca

pec - ca

˙ pec

w.

-

10

&b ∑

(b)

-

∑

Pa

?

w.

Pa

W

?b C„

-

w

∑

5

w

Pa

w

Pa

W

Pa

Bassus

ter,

∑

w

∑

w

∑

Ó

w

w

u

-

˙

˙

fac

me

si

˙

˙

pec - ca



˙

Fac

˙ me

w

-

˙

vi

˙ in

˙

si - cut

∑

num,

˙

w

-

cut

u

˙

˙

w

me

˙

˙

si - cut

w -

w u

num

w -

num

Example 2.9: Gabrieli, “Pater peccavi”: (a) mm. 1–10; (b) mm. 32–9, cantus and bassus only; (c) mm. 53–65

31

marie louise göllner Secunda pars

(c) Cantus

&b C„

„

Quintus

&b C„

„

Altus

Vb Cw

Tenor

Vb C„

˙

˙

˙

mer

-

ce -

na -

ri

w Quan

w Quan

˙

˙

˙

i

in

do - mo

˙ ri

˙

˙

˙

˙

ti

mer

-

ce -

na -

na

Vb ˙

-

i,

ri

˙

˙

i

in

˙

do - mo

ti

mer - ce - na - ri

-

w

quan

-

Vb œ œ œ œ w pa

˙

˙ ˙

˙

Quan

-

-

˙

˙

me

˙

˙

-  i

in

do

˙

w

ti

mer

˙

me

-



˙ -

ce

i,

˙

˙

˙

˙

i

in

-

-

ti

na - ri

&b ∑ Vb

˙ ˙ me

-

V b ˙. ?b

˙

˙ ˙ -

i

in

Ó ˙ w

˙

w

Quan

˙

-  na - ri -

quan

i,

i

pa - tris

w me

ti

w quan

œ w

˙ ˙

-

Ó

-

˙ -

w

in

do

i,

Example 2.9: (cont.)

32

mer - ce

w w

w

pa - tris

˙ ˙ ˙

ti

-

Ó ˙

quan

-

˙

˙

me

-

˙ ˙ -

i,

˙

-

i

-

-

˙ -

˙

i,

œ ˙

˙.

mo

pa

˙

˙

ti

mer

ce -

w

-

˙

ce

˙ tris

˙ -

-

˙

na - ri -

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙

in

do

-

quan

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙

-

na - ri

ti

mer - ce -

Ó w

w ˙ ˙

„

˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙.

i

pa

na - ri - i,

˙

mer - ce - na - ri

-

w

w

w

mo

pa

-

tris

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

-

ti

-

do - mo

˙ mo



˙ ˙ ˙

do - mo

ce

me

mer

w

Lasso Studies (Göllner) Ex. 2.9c, p. 2

&b ˙ ˙

-

w

w

˙

œ œ œ œ

˙ tris



mer



w

˙

w

tris

w

œ œ ˙

pa

˙

-

b ∑

˙.

ti

˙

˙

„

∑

˙

w

pa - tris

„

Quan

˙

˙ -

˙

˙

„

&b ˙

?

-

-

„

&b „

„

∑

˙

?b C„

Bassus

„

˙

˙

Quan - ti



mer - ce

-

in

do - mo

quan

w

w me

-

w -

i,

-

˙ ti

œ ˙ ˙ -

tris

∑

i,

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙

˙ ˙

na - ri - i

do - mo

pa - tris

in

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i (a) Cantus

Quintus

Altus

& b C∑ w Ky

& b C„ w Vb C

˙ ˙ w -

ri - e,

. ˙

Ky - ri - e, Tenor

Bassus 1

Bassus 2

w.

V b C„

-

„

? C„ b

-

ri - e

w

„

w. Ky

ri - e

w

w

e - lei

˙ ˙ w Vb

son

˙

Ky

œœœœ

b ˙ ˙. œ œ œ W e

e

w

-

w.

-

∑

„

„

Ó ˙

w. ri

-

-

-

rie

-

Ky

˙ ˙ w ˙ e

˙ ˙ œœw -

˙ W

-

w

˙ ˙ w

Ky

-

w.

- 

ri - e

-

ri - e

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w

˙ ˙ w ri - e

Ky

-

„

∑

w

Ky

w

„

e

e - lei

-

lei

-

˙ w

Ky

w

Ó w

w

w

w

Ky -

son,

Ky

w son,

∑

-

ri

-

Ky

-

w.

ri

-

e

w

w

Ky -

ri

-

˙ ˙ w -

ri -

˙ ˙

e - lei -

son,

w

-

∑ ∑

son,

Example 2.10: Gabrieli, “Missa super Pater peccavi”: (a) Kyrie I, mm. 1–14; (b) Gloria, “Qui tollis,” mm. 1–12; (c) Credo, “Patrem omnipotentem,” mm. 1–5; (d) Credo, “Et incarnatus est,” mm. 1–7; (e) Credo, “Crucifixus,” mm. 1–7; (f) Agnus Dei, mm. 1–10

measures) quotation from the model, only the altus preserves the original presentation of the motive. In contrast to the motet, however, all of the voices subsequently pick it up in close succession, including the quintus, which at that point is the top voice (see Ex. 2.10a). In the Gloria it enters in long notes as a kind of cantus firmus in three of the voices (Ex. 2.10b; entry 33

e

˙

˙. œ œ œ ˙

e - lei

e - lei

ri -

Ky - ri - e

˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w -

lei -

˙

w

˙ ˙ ˙ w ri -

∑

-

∑

w

-

˙. œ ˙ ˙

w

lei - son,

e - lei - son,

˙. œ w

-

˙ w Ó w

„

Ky -

˙. œ ˙ ˙

ri - e,

∑

son,

e - lei - son,

˙

e

∑

w

e - lei -

ri - e

ri

∑

Ky

w

ri

-

?

Ky

e - lei - son

„

Ó ˙

∑

ri - e,

Ky

son,

Ky

b ∑

w

lei - son,

œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ w ˙ ˙

?

-

w

Ky

˙.

e - lei- son,

Ó

-

ri

˙ W

w

-

∑

lei - son,

Vb w

-

10

&b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ &b w

-

ri - e,

„

e

w

˙

˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w lei - son, ˙ w w ∑

w.

∑

w

w.

e - lei- son, Ky - ri - e -

∑

5

ri - e

˙ ˙

Ky

˙

Ky

? C„ b

-

˙ ˙ w

Ky

W

˙ ˙ w

Ky

w

∑

w

∑

marie louise göllner (b) Cantus

Qui tol

Quintus

&b C„

Altus

Vb C∑ w

Tenor

Vb C„

Qui

Bassus 1

Bassus 2

˙.

& b C w ˙ .œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ∑

-

lis

pec - ca

-

w

w

w

5

œœœ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ta mun

-

˙ ˙.

œ˙

di, pec

-

˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ ca- ta mun

w w w. ˙ lis pec. ca ta ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ w ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ

mun

-

tol

-

mun

-

„

∑

Qui

W w.

tol

lis pec - ca

-

ta

tol

lis pec- ca

˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ w ˙

w Qui

-

-

„

„

„

„

„

?

„

„

„

„

„

b C„

&b W

„

10

„

„

di



di,

qui

Vb W 

di,

? b W ?

Qui

b ∑

tol

-

Ó ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙

w

w tol

w Qui

lis pec - ca - ta

∑

qui

-

tol

-

w

w

lis

pec

mi

-

lis pec

-

di,

-

pec

˙

W

ca

-

ta

mun

ca

-

ta

mun

˙. œ ˙ ˙

-

se -

Ó˙

˙ ˙

˙.

œœw

ca - ta

mun

-

œ œ œœœ

mun

-

di,

W -

di

œœœ œœ w -

Example 2.10: (cont.)

in cantus at m. 17), appearing again as the motive for the phrase,“qui sedes ad dexteram patris”. It then becomes the central motive of the Credo, where it provides the continuation to the beginning motive on “Patrem” for the word “omnipotentem”(Ex. 2.10c). In the further course of the movement it then serves as the primary motive for two of the inner sections,“Et incarnatus est”and “Crucifixus”(Exx. 2.10d and 2.10e), and reaches its final culmination in the grand longa–brevis–brevis–maxima of the top voice at the beginning of the seven-voice Agnus Dei (Ex. 2.10f). This constitutes a 34

mi -

˙ œ œœœ ˙ œœ w

ca - ta

˙

˙ -

∑

w

-

w.

-

„

˙ ˙. œ ˙

lis pec

˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ tol

mun

-

Ó w

„

˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ ˙ ˙  di, qui tol lis pec - ca - ta mun di w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ b ˙ ˙ Ó V &b

œœ

ta mun

?b C„



-

˙

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i (c) Cantus

&b „

Quintus

&b ∑

Altus

Vb „

Tenor

Vb W

w

?

b „

Bassus 2

?

b „

-

W

˙

trem

o

-

˙

w

-

trem

˙

o

W

-

Pa

-

pa

po - ten

-

tem,

w -

ten

-

tem,

&bCW

Quintus

&bCW

W

w w

w w

in - car -

na - tus

est

w w

w w

w

Et

W

in - car -

w w

na - tus

Et

in - car -

na - tus

Altus

VbC

Tenor

VbCW

Bassus 1

Bassus 2

w w

in - car

Et

in -

w.

? C b W

w w

Cantus

Quintus

Altus

&b &b Vb

„

„

„

W Cru

w w -

na - tus

san

-

cto

est

w w

de

spi

san

-

cto

est

de

spi - ri - tu san

w

ci - fi -

est de

ri - tu

w.

-

˙ w

spi

spi

w w est

∑ w

-

Cru

de

spi

w

w

-

ci

„

e

-

-

w.

-

ti - am pro

w fi -

W

w

cto

w

w

ri - tu

san - cto

ri - tu

san - cto

ri - tu

san - cto

w

˙ w -

5

w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ xus

-

˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œœw

de

na - tus

„

˙ ˙ W

˙ w ˙ œœœœ ˙ w ˙

w w

Example 2.10: (cont.)

35

spi - ri - tu

w

w

w

W

Ó w

„

w xus

w

no

-

ci

˙

e -

w

w

˙ . œ œ œ b˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙

Cru

-

˙

W

˙ ˙ w

-

trem

de

est

car - na - tus

in - car -

„

-

˙ w w

pa

w -

5

˙ w ˙ w w

Et

? CW b

Et

(e)

w w

w

pa

„

w w

Et

W

trem

„

Cantus

Ó

„

∑

-

w

w

Pa

(d)

w

˙

˙

mni - po

w

trem

w

˙

-

-

∑

tem,

˙

o - mni

w

trem

-

˙

w

pa

w

w

mni - po - ten

W -

trem

˙

w

∑

w

-

˙

Pa

Pa

Bassus 1

Pa

w

Pa

w

w

∑

-

-

fi

-

xus

w e

˙ ˙ w bis

ti -

-

marie louise göllner (f ) Cantus

5

&bCW A

Quintus

& b C ˙. œ œ œ ˙ A

Altus 1

-

VbC∑

˙.

W

W

-

gnus

˙

˙

w

gnus

De

œ œ œ ˙

A

-

W De

˙ ˙.

-

i,

˙.

w gnus

˙.

œ œ œ ˙

A

-

A

˙ ˙

i

w œ œ œ ˙ ˙ -

œ w

De

W

-

w

De

˙

w

gnus

De

i,

A

i,

A - gnus De

-

Altus 2

Tenor

VbC„

„

„

„

„

?bC„

„

„

„

„

? C„ b

„

„

„

„

Bassus 1

Bassus 2

&b

De

-

W

W

&b W

W

„

„

„

„

„

∑

i,

Vb

w

A

-

Ó ˙

gnus

Vb W

De

W gnus

œ œ œ ˙

œ œ œ ˙ -

-

w gnus

˙ ˙. De

-



i,

A

-

˙

w

gnus

De

W De

gnus De

-  i,

œ w -

-

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ w

i,

A

˙. œ

-

i,

˙

-

˙

˙.

gnus

De

-

w -

W i, œ œ w

A - gnus De

˙ w 

A -

A

œ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w

-

Example 2.10: (cont.)

36

gnus

A

A

˙

W ˙. ˙.

˙

De - i,

-

A

? „ b

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙

A

i,

? ∑ b

˙

˙

Ó ˙

∑

W

V b Ó ˙. œ œ œ ˙

i,

-

10

„

-

w

œ œ -w

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

VbC„

gnus

w

gnus

˙ w

-

w

œ w -

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i steady build-up towards a climax which is entirely foreign to the nature of the mass itself and to Renaissance sacred polyphony in general. It may well, however, reflect a practice grounded in the improvised preludes and toccatas of the organist. If we call the descending fourth motive A, then, the mass may be outlined as follows: Kyrie I – Part I (mm. 1–5) Christe – repetendum, “Fac me sicut” (C and B = variant of mm. 32ff of the motet) Kyrie II – Part II (longer quotation: mm. 1–8 in all voices, 1–13 in C and B = motet mm. 53–60 and 53–65) Et in terra pax – Part I, very brief Qui tollis – motive A in long notes in quintus and bassus 1, later in cantus; motive B (from “vocari filius tuus,” mm. 20ff of the motet). Patrem omnipotentem – “Pater” plus motive A Et incarnatus est – motive A in three top voices Crucifixus a3 – motive A Et resurrexit a3 – repetendum Et iterum venturus est – Part I, very brief Sanctus – “Pater” (note the similarity between the two-syllable words “Pater” and “Sanctus”) Benedictus a4 – use of initial leap of fourth, otherwise new Osanna 3/2 – new Agnus Dei a7 – motive A as cantus firmus with new counterpoint; “miserere” uses beginning of repetendum

Although the beginning of Part II occurs only once in the entire mass, its twin, the beginning of the repetendum of the motet, “Fac me sicut unum,” is used frequently within the various movements and becomes an important unifying element. It is particularly prominent within the Credo, where it forms the entire substance of the section “Et resurrexit” (see Ex. 2.11). This section of the Credo is set rather surprisingly for the three lower voices in contrast to the three higher ones which have just preceded in the “Crucifixus.”Note the use of the motive on the concluding phrase,“sedet ad dexteram patris,”as well as at the beginning. Two other interior motives are taken over into the mass with some frequency, namely those on the words “vocari filius” and “surgam” in the 37

marie louise göllner (a) Tenor

Bassus 1

Bassus 2

w w ˙ ˙ w

Vb ? ?

Et

b

∑

re

-

sur - re

-

∑

∑

b

w

Ó ˙

xit

ter

w

∑

w.

Et

∑

5

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ -

ti - a

∑

-

˙. œ w

di

ter

-

w

˙

re

œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙

sur - re

∑

-

e,

w xit

∑

-

Ó

˙ œ œ ˙ ter

W

-

Et

Vb

˙ ˙ ˙. ti - a

10

œ œœw

di

-

e,

?b ˙ œ ˙ œœœ œœ˙ w ti - a

di

? w b

-

w

re

(b)

37

b

?b

w pa

-

-

tris

œœ˙ ˙ ˙ w œœœœ

xit ter

42

œ V b œ œ œ ˙. -

se -

ti - a

re

ti - a

di

-

se - det ad dex

∑

-

? ?

-

-

-

te - ram

Ó ˙

w

det

ad

dex

ad

œ œ w

w b ˙ ˙ te - ram pa

b

∑

˙.

-

-

∑

-

-

pa

-

-

˙

-

∑

∑

˙ w

›

te -

ad

-

dex

-

˙ ˙ w -

dex

-

te - ram

˙ ˙ w

dex

tris,

-

-

-

˙ ˙

œœ˙ œœ œ ˙ œ w œ œ -

˙ ˙ w ad

-

∑

-

˙

-

pa

se - det ad

-

se - det

-

w

Ó ˙

-

-

-

w

ram

˙ ˙ ˙

œœœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. œ œ œ ˙ - 

-

-

-

˙

-

-

-

-

- 

Ó

xit ter

et

-

˙

dex

˙

te - ram pa

-

˙ œœ˙ ∑ w

-

œ œ œ œ œ

-

tris, se - det

˙ -

˙

˙.

-

-

˙

e,

e,

˙ ˙ w

se - det

˙

-

sur - re

-

-

47

-

-

-

˙ ˙ œ œœœ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ

V b œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œœœ œ œ œœœ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ pa

di

˙ ˙ w

w

et

∑

Ó ˙

tris

te- ram pa

-

tris,

b w

-

œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙

?b œ œ œ œ w -

-

tris,



-

∑

˙ w

œ˙ w ˙ œœ˙ ˙ ˙ œœœœ œ

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w

∑

w

˙ w

˙ ˙ œ œœœ œœœœœ œ˙

se - det ad dex

w



?

˙

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w

Vb ∑ ?

˙ ˙ w sur - re

ter

∑

e,

-

Ó ˙ œœ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ w

te - ram pa



-

tris.

-



-

tris.

˙ œœw ›

-

›

-

› ›

tris.

Example 2.11: Gabrieli, “Missa super Pater peccavi,” Credo, “Et resurrexit”: (a) mm. 1–12; (b) mm. 37–52

-

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d a n d r e a g a b r i e l i 

Cantus

&b ˙ ˙ ˙

˙

re

vi

[-ca-]

Quintus

Altus

W -

w & b Ó ˙ . œ œ . Jœ w vi vos, ˙. w b w V œ œ . Jœ ˙ re

[-ca-] Tenor

œ œ œ. œ w J

Vb w ca

Bassus 1

?

b „

Bassus 2

?

b w [-ca-]

w -

re

vi

w

˙.

w

vi

vos

vi

-

et

mor

œ œ . Jœ ˙ ˙ ˙ w -

j w œ œ. œ w vos ˙. œ œ. œ ˙ w J



„

vos

j œ˙ ˙ ˙ w œ œ.  vos et mor vi œœ ˙ w w bw

-

vi

re



∑

˙.

„ Ó ˙.

w

˙ ˙ w -

tu - os

-

tu - os

˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w

vos et mor

-

tu - os

et mor

-

tu - os

Ó ˙ bw w

∑

˙ ˙ w „

vos

Example 2.12: Gabrieli, “Missa super Pater peccavi,” Credo, “Et iterum venturus est,” mm. 12–16

motet, both based on the triad f–a–c and both used in imitation. The former (motive B) is found not only at the beginning of the second section of the Gloria (see Ex. 2.10b) but also at the ends of the Kyrie and Benedictus, and the latter (see Ex. 2.8) lends itself to one of the few instances of word painting in the mass, i.e. the contrast between “vivos”and “mortuos”(Ex. 2.12). The two masses by Lasso and Gabrieli thus serve to introduce us to quite different approaches to the adaptation of a relatively brief model to the long movements of the Mass Ordinary. Apparently written in a serious effort to challenge the imagination and talents of their composers in using the often irregularly spaced motives of motets rather than the clear phrases of secular chansons as their models, these works demonstrate both the subtleties and the variety of the techniques of imitation and parody. Significantly, neither mass makes much use of “direct parody,”18 i.e. the literal quotation of longer passages from the model, beyond the presentation of material in the Kyrie and Gloria. In both cases the reliance is instead mainly on motives which can be easily recognized by the listener and which can occur in myriad transformations, lending both unity and variety to the mass as it progresses. The older practice of composing masses around melodic motives derived from a specific mode is also still strongly reflected 18

See Wilder, The Masses, pp. 187ff.

39

marie louise göllner in both cases. These works, finally, illuminate two very different musical talents of the late sixteenth century: the perfection of the long lines of imitative polyphony on the one hand and the beginnings of a more vertically oriented, rhythmically direct style on the other. Although the latter reflects instrumental influence, it is here still found within the confines of the main sacred genre of the Renaissance, the polyphonic mass.

40

3

Post-Tridentine liturgical change and functional music: Lasso’s cycle of polyphonic Latin hymns daniel zager

The study of Orlando di Lasso’s polyphonic Latin hymn cycle found one of its earliest stimuli in the work of Julius Joseph Maier (1821–89), the first “Conservator der Musikalischen Abteilung der Kgl. Hof- und Staatsbibliothek,”now the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek. His 1879 catalogue, Die musikalischen Handschriften der K. Hof- und Staatsbibliothek in München, identified three manuscript sources of Lasso’s hymn cycle, all of which are still preserved in the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek as Mus. Mss. 55, 75, and 520.1 In his landmark study of 1958, Wolfgang Boetticher provided a brief overview of the hymn cycle, focusing on questions of dating and authenticity in the oldest manuscript source, Mus. Ms. 55, as well as on its relationship to the two later Munich sources identified by Maier.2 He also pointed out a fourth source among manuscripts in Augsburg.3 In her 1980 1

2

3

Julius Joseph Maier, Die musikalischen Handschriften der K. Hof- und Staatsbibliothek in München, Erster Theil: Die Handschriften bis zum Ende des XVII. Jahrhunderts, Catalogus Codicum Manuscriptorum Bibliothecae Regiae Monacensis, Tomi VIII, Pars 1 (Munich: In Commission der Palm’schen Hofbuchhandlung, 1879), pp. 68–71, 76–8. The successor to this catalogue is KBM 5/1; see pp. 191–5, 222–3, and 262–8 for physical descriptions and inventories of the manuscripts preserving Lasso’s hymn cycle. Boetticher, Lasso, pp. 644–50. Mus. Ms. 55 was copied 1580–1 for the Munich Hofkapelle; Mus. Ms. 75 was copied c. 1600 for the Jesuit church of St. Michael in Munich; Mus. Ms. 520, the latest source of Lasso’s hymn cycle, was copied in 1622 for the Augustiner Chorherrenstift in Polling. Boetticher, Lasso, pp. 882–3. For an inventory of Augsburg, Staats- und Stadtbibliothek, Ms. 25 (Schletterer Catalogue, 24), see Clytus Gottwald, Die Musikhandschriften der Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, Handschriftenkataloge der Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, Bd. 1 (Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1974), pp. 138–52. This Augsburg source, copied for the Benedictine monastery of Sts. Ulrich and Afra in Augsburg, is dated 1585, though the title page preceding the hymns (fols. 237–324) and each

41

daniel zager edition of the hymn cycle, Marie Louise Göllner brought to the fore a fifth manuscript source whose provenance may be traced to Munich’s Frauenkirche.4 Subsequent to Boetticher’s and particularly Göllner’s investigation of these sources, and her preparation of a critical edition, a nexus of contextual questions remains to be explored. Why did Lasso compose a hymn cycle in 1580–1? What was the functional context for the creation and use of this repertory? Was there a specific liturgical stimulus? To pose such questions is to assert that beyond source studies, and beyond investigations of musical style and structure, there remain important lines of inquiry regarding the relationship between liturgical rite and musical repertory, and, more broadly, the symbolic role of liturgy within a particular religious culture. Lasso’s hymn cycle for the Munich Hofkapelle provides an opportunity to explore such relationships among liturgy, music, and postTridentine Catholic culture. There is clearly a direct causal relationship between liturgical change at the Munich court chapel and the concomitant need for this new musical repertory. This study will contrast the vespers hymns required by the Tridentine Breviarium Romanum and Lasso’s hymn cycle as a response to this liturgical book, with those required by an earlier Freising diocesan breviary and the hymn settings by Ludwig Senfl (c. 1486–1542/3), one of Lasso’s predecessors at the Hofkapelle. Although the connection of this repertory to a specific liturgical stimulus is in itself a useful link, further consideration invites an inquiry into the broader context.Why was Wilhelm V interested in liturgical change at the Bavarian court? While it is not inaccurate to suggest that the liturgical dictates of the Council of Trent no doubt played a role, Wilhelm’s motiva-

4

of the individual hymns are dated 1584 by the scribe, Johannes Treer. For a further consideration of this Augsburg source of Lasso’s hymns, see Daniel Zager, “Liturgical Rite and Musical Repertory: The Polyphonic Latin Hymn Cycle of Lasso in Munich and Augsburg,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 215–31. SWNR, vol. 18. For an inventory of Munich, Metropolitan-Kapitelarchiv, Artes 238, see Helmut Hell et al., Die Musikhandschriften aus dem Dom zu Unserer Lieben Frau in München: Thematischer Katalog, Kataloge Bayerischer Musiksammlungen, Bd. 8 (Munich: G. Henle, 1987), pp. 49–52. Göllner has dated this source at c. 1605–1610.

42

l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s tion to initiate liturgical changes at the ducal court may well go beyond simple obedience to papal decrees regarding the adoption of newly revised Tridentine liturgical books. To propose that the acceptance of such liturgical change was, in part, a conscious identification with and emulation of Rome and the papal court is to position Wilhelm (and, one could argue, his father and predecessor, Albrecht V) squarely within post-Tridentine Roman Catholic culture, and to recognize liturgy as a cultural marker bearing significant associative meaning, possessed of the capacity to link one entity (in this case, the Bavarian ducal court) to another (the papal court and Rome). Finally, in this exploration of liturgy and music, chronological considerations related to the composition and copying of Lasso’s hymn cycle are instructive. Such a chronological examination allows us to view both composer and scribe in the process of creating a functional, day-to-day repertory, the sequence of their work defined in large part by the liturgical year. Some of the most influential liturgical reforms identified with the Council of Trent came to fruition in the years immediately following the close of its deliberations. Though the Council endorsed the importance of revised liturgical books, the actual work of reform was delegated to committees of bishops and cardinals working after the close of the Council in 1563. In 1568, during the papacy of Pius V (1566–72), a revised breviary appeared: Breviarium Romanum, ex decreto Sacrosancti Concilii Tridentini restitutum, Pii V Pont. Max, jussu editum.5 In the papal Bull “Quod a nobis” of 9 July 1568, Pius V pronounced the abolition of all previous breviaries in use for less than two hundred years and stated that nothing was to be added to or subtracted from this new breviary:

5

For a detailed history of this breviary reform, see Pierre Batiffol, History of the Roman Breviary, trans. Atwell M.Y. Baylay (London: Longmans, Green, 1912), pp. 191–207; for a concise history, see Jules Baudot, The Breviary: Its History and Contents, trans. Benedictines of Stanbrook (London: Sands, 1929), pp. 48–54. See Hanns Bohatta, Bibliographie der Breviere, 1501–1850, 2nd ed. (Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann, 1963), pp. 31ff, for a listing of the numerous editions of this breviary. Details concerning the wide dissemination of the 1568 breviary are found in Suitbert Bäumer, Geschichte des Breviers (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1895), pp. 457–67.

43

daniel zager We order that this Breviary of Ours be observed . . . in all churches, monasteries, orders and even exempt places in the whole world, in which the Office must be said or has customarily been said . . . and that all those who are bound by law or custom to say or sing the Canonical Hours according to this custom and rite of the Roman Church are absolutely bound to say and sing hereafter . . . according to the order and plan of this Roman Breviary. . . .6

That the acceptance of such a new breviary would have far-reaching consequences for musicians may be seen by comparing the liturgical requirements and musical repertories in use at a particular establishment. The content of liturgical books compiled before and after Trent, and the musical repertories composed in response to such liturgical rites, constitute a matrix of comparative information shedding light on questions of liturgical function in sixteenth-century Latin sacred music. In this investigation, the vespers hymns specified by the 1568 Breviarium Romanum will be compared with those required by the 1516 Breviarium Frisingense, sixteenth-century Munich being part of the Freising diocese.7 Tables 3.1 and 3.2 enumerate highly ranked Vespers feasts – occasions typically calling for polyphonic performance of hymns – and their associated hymn texts, in both the 1568 Breviarium Romanum and the 1516 Breviarium Frisingense.8 The similarities and differences are readily apparent in both the temporal and sanctoral cycles. The temporal cycles in these two breviaries share common hymn texts for Passion Sunday and for Easter. Further, the hymns for Advent (“Conditor alme siderum”) and weekdays of Lent (“Audi benigne conditor”) in the Breviarium Romanum also find a 6

7

8

Quoted in Pierre Salmon, The Breviary through the Centuries, trans. Sister David Mary (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1962), p. 20. For the boundaries of the various German dioceses in the sixteenth century, see Max Spindler, Bayerischer Geschichtsatlas (Munich: Bayerischer SchulbuchVerlag, 1969), pp. 26–7, or Karl Hausberger and Benno Hubensteiner, Bayerische Kirchengeschichte (Munich: Süddeutscher Verlag, 1985). The fundamental work concerning polyphonic vespers hymns is by Tom R. Ward; see his “The Polyphonic Office Hymn from the Late Fourteenth Century until the Early Sixteenth Century,” Ph.D. diss., University of Pittsburgh (1969); “The Polyphonic Office Hymn and the Liturgy of Fifteenth-Century Italy,” Musica Disciplina, 26 (1972), pp. 161–88; and The Polyphonic Office Hymn, 1400–1520: A Descriptive Catalogue, Renaissance Manuscript Studies 3 (Rome: American Institute of Musicology, 1980).

44

l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s Table 3.1 Vespers hymns specified by 1568 Breviarium Romanum; hymn settings provided by Lasso in Mus. Ms. 55 Feast

Hymn

Advent Christmas Holy Innocents Epiphany Lent (Weekdays) Lent (Sundays) Passion Sunday Easter Ascension Pentecost Trinity Corpus Christi Sundays per annum Transfiguration St. Peter’s Chair St. John Baptist STs. Peter and Paul St. Mary Magdalene St. Peter’s Chains St. Michael Marian feasts All Saints [Conversion of St. Paul]

Conditor alme siderum Christe redemptor omnium/Ex Patre Salvete flores martyrum Hostis Herodes impie Audi benigne conditor Ad preces nostras Vexilla regis prodeunt Ad cenam agni providi Jesu nostra redemptio Veni creator spiritus O lux beata Trinitas (also Saturdays per annum) Pange lingua gloriosi Lucis creator optime Quicumque Christum quaeritis Quodcumque vinclis Ut queant laxis Aurea luce et decore Lauda mater ecclesia Petrus beatus catenarum Tibi Christe splendor Patris Ave maris stella Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva [Doctor egregie] (Not included in 1568 Breviarium Romanum.) Exultet caelum laudibus Tristes erant apostoli

x x

Deus tuorum militum Sanctorum meritis Rex gloriose martyrum

x x x

Iste confessor Jesu corona virginum Urbs beata Jerusalem

x x x

Common of Apostles Common of Apostles in Paschal Time Common of One Martyr Common of Many Martyrs Common of Martyrs in Paschal Time Common of Confessors Common of Virgins Dedication of a Church

Mus. Ms. 55 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

place in the 1516 Freising diocesan breviary, though in this earlier source additional hymns are appointed for these seasons as well. Other than these similarities, however, there are significant differences, both in the feasts requiring vespers hymns (in the Freising rite the feasts of Holy Innocents, Transfiguration, Pentecost, Trinity, and Corpus Christi do not specify a 45

daniel zager Table 3.2 Vespers hymns specified by 1516 Breviarium Frisingense ; hymn settings provided by Senfl in Mus. Ms. 52 Feast

Hymn

Mus. Ms. 52

Advent Advent Advent Christmas Epiphany Lent Lent Lent Passion Sunday Easter Ascension St. Andrew St. Catherine St. Nicholas Conception of Mary Conversion of St. Paul Purification of Mary Marian feasts Common of Apostles Common of Many Martyrs Common of One Martyr Common of Confessors Common of Virgins Dedication of a Church

Veni redemptor gentium Verbum supernum prodiens Conditor alme siderum A solis ortus cardine Gratuletur omnis caro Ex more docti mystico Audi benigne conditor Clarum decus Vexilla regis Ad cenam agni providi Festum nunc celebre Exorta a Bethsaida Ave Catherina Plaudat letitia Gaude visceribus Doctor egregie Quod chorus vatum Ave maris stella Exultet caelum laudibus Rex gloriose martyrum Deus tuorum militum Iste confessor Jesu corona virginum Urbs beata Jerusalem

x

x x

x

xa x

x

Note: a Designated for Assumption.

vespers hymn) and in the hymns appointed for particular feasts (cf. the different hymns appointed for Christmas, Epiphany [in the Freising breviary “Hostis Herodes impie” is specified for Compline rather than Vespers], and Ascension). In the sanctoral cycle the Marian hymn “Ave maris stella”is the only text shared by the two breviaries in the Proper of Saints; in the Common of Saints, on the other hand, all of the hymn texts of the Freising breviary are also present in the Breviarium Romanum. Apart from this last correspondence, however, it is clear that the feasts requiring vespers hymns, and the hymn texts appointed for those feasts, differ significantly in these two breviaries. In fact, the differing profiles of 46

l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s feasts and hymns relate to larger liturgical traditions (of German and Italian provenance) for the polyphonic hymn, the feasts and hymns in the Freising diocesan breviary being part of a German tradition, those in the Breviarium Romanum being part of an Italian tradition.9 Thus, in a case where the Breviarium Romanum replaced an existing diocesan breviary, certain extant polyphonic repertories, such as vespers hymns, might well have been rendered largely obsolete. When Lasso became a singer at the Munich court chapel of Albrecht V in 1556, he would have encountered an extensive collection of polyphonic music for Vespers, including hymns for some of the major temporal and sanctoral feasts: the Liber vesperarum festorum solennium (Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Mus. Ms. 52).10 Although most of the compositions in this source lack attributions, Martin Bente identified concordances attributed to Ludwig Senfl in Heidelberg and Stuttgart manuscripts, concluding that all of the compositions in Mus.Ms.52 could be attributed to Senfl, who was employed at the Munich court chapel from 1523 until his death in 1542 or 1543.11 By using liturgical evidence, David Crook has demonstrated that Mus. Ms. 52 “was copied in Munich after Senfl’s arrival in 1522 or 1523,” the clear implication being that this repertory was prepared for use in connection with Freising liturgical books – such as the 1516 Breviarium Frisingense or the 1520 Scamnalia secundum ritum et ordinem ecclesie et diocesis frisingensis.12 Table 3.2 shows that seven of Senfl’s hymn settings in Mus.Ms.52 would have been useful in connection withVespers as defined by the 1516 Freising breviary; only one of these seven hymns –“Urbs beata Jerusalem” (Dedication of a Church) – was to find a place in the 1568 Breviarium Romanum. In all, five of Senfl’s fifteen settings could have been 9

10 11

12

Ward has defined both traditions (see Ward [1969], pp. 2–8 for a summary) and provided a convenient listing of each tradition (see Ward [1980], pp. 16–17). For a comparative study of sixteenth-century hymn cycles drawing on the Italian tradition of feasts and texts, see Daniel Zager, “The Polyphonic Latin Hymns of Orlando di Lasso: A Liturgical and Repertorial Study,” Ph.D. diss., University of Minnesota (1985), pp. 35–64, 155–79. For an inventory of Mus. Ms. 52 see KBM 5/1, pp. 178–88. Martin Bente, Neue Wege der Quellenkritik und die Biographie Ludwig Senfls: Ein Beitrag zur Musikgeschichte des Reformationszeitalters (Wiesbaden: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1968), pp. 57–62. David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation Munich (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), p. 43.

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daniel zager Table 3.3 Hymns by Senfl in Mus. Ms. 52 Feast

Hymn

Advent Christmas Epiphany Epiphany Sundays of Lent Ascension Pentecost Trinity Corpus Christi All Saints Marian feasts Marian feasts Marian feasts Marian feasts Dedication of a Church

Veni redemptor gentium A solis ortus cardine Hostis Herodes impie Gratuletur omnis caro Christe qui lux Festum nunc celebre Veni creator spiritus O lux beata Trinitas Pange lingua gloriosi Omnes superni ordines Quod chorus vatum In Mariam vitae viam Gaude visceribus Quem terra pontus Urbs beata Jerusalem

Vespers hymn specified by the 1568 Breviarium Romanum

x

x x x

x

used with the Breviarium Romanum (see Table 3.3), this group obviously comprising only a small fraction of the hymn settings required by this new book forVespers (see Table 3.1).Thus,whenWilhelmV committed his court chapel to the use of the 1568 Breviarium Romanum, Lasso was obligated to prepare a new vespers hymn cycle to accord with the Tridentine breviary. It would be perfectly plausible to assume that Wilhelm’s motive in adopting the Breviarium Romanum for use in his court chapel was based on the papal decree regarding use of the revised Tridentine breviary.While this consideration may have been a pertinent one, the reasons for undertaking a major liturgical change – one that would require newly composed polyphonic repertories – may well run deeper than conformity with a papal decree. Beyond acquiescence, it is possible to view this liturgical change as a way of forging an identity with Rome and with the larger post-Tridentine Catholic culture. * Discussing the years after the close of the Council of Trent in 1563, Elizabeth G. Gleason remarks that “reform under papal leadership went beyond a ‘Counter’ Reformation to positive and constructive efforts at building a more tightly organized, better instructed, and effectively con48

l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s trolled church than the old institution before 1563 had been.”13 She goes on to identify some of the tools and tactics of the Tridentine reforms, including in her list liturgy as an aspect of reform: The restructuring of the church’s administration was only one achievement of the later sixteenth-century popes. More significant for the church on the local level was a series of catechetical, liturgical, and disciplinary innovations, all emanating from Rome, which would determine the character of Catholic culture for centuries to come. . . . In 1566 the Roman Catechism was issued, which became the principal tool of Christian instruction for pastors and teachers of religion. Two years later the revised Roman Breviary appeared, with mandatory daily readings for the clergy. In 1570 the Missale Romanum codified a uniform liturgy of the mass for the entire liturgical year, for use by every church throughout the Catholic world. . . . That almost all of these works contained the word “Roman” in their titles underlined that Rome was the nerve center of the Catholic church. . . . In a much stronger sense than before the Reformation, the Catholic church became Roman Catholic.14

In his study of post-Tridentine Roman sermon literature Frederick J. McGinness puts it another way: “The Council of Trent presented the Roman clergy with a model for rebuilding Catholic life and worship. And a firm commitment to that enterprise was the only way to reestablish a sorely needed credibility.”15 This “model for rebuilding Catholic life and worship” extended beyond Rome and its clergy to, for example, the Bavarian ducal court, which long had been staunchly Catholic, but in the post-Tridentine era was concerned with becoming Roman Catholic. One could argue that Albrecht had laid the groundwork for this concept, though it was Wilhelm who would employ liturgy as a means of fostering and making explicit a closer and more overt connection with Rome. Albrecht’s loyalty to the papacy was never in question. Writing in 1567 to Francis Borgia (1510–72), Peter Canisius (1521–97) gives pride of 13

14 15

Elizabeth G. Gleason, “Catholic Reformation, Counterreformation and Papal Reform in the Sixteenth Century,” Handbook of European History, 1400–1600: Late Middle Ages, Renaissance, and Reformation, ed. Thomas A. Brady, Jr., Heiko A. Oberman, and James D. Tracy (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995), vol. 2, p. 333. Ibid., pp. 338–9. Frederick J. McGinness, Right Thinking and Sacred Oratory in CounterReformation Rome (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995), p. 6.

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daniel zager place to Albrecht as one zealous for the Catholic faith in Germany.16 Cardinal Commendone, writing to Canisius in 1568, refers to Albrecht and Ferdinand II, Archduke of Tyrol, as “the principal pillars of the Catholic faith in Germany.”17 Indeed, Pastor’s account of Rome’s efforts to maintain a strong presence in Germany refers to Albrecht’s consistent support.18 Given Albrecht’s loyalty to Rome and the esteem in which he was held, it is not surprising that Etienne Dupérac’s engraving of the Sistine Chapel from 1578 is dedicated to Albrecht V. The engraving is titled “Maiestatis Pontificiae Dum in Capella Xisti Sacra Peraguntur Accurata Delineatio,” which Niels Krogh Rasmussen translates as:“An Exact Drawing During the Celebration of Mass in the Sistine Chapel of the Papal Majesty.”19 Rasmussen points out that Dupérac, “one of the great French artists and cartographers in Rome,”would have had a propensity, as a cartographer, for producing an “exact drawing . . . made during a liturgical celebration in the Sistine Chapel.”While the engraving thus shows “as well as if it were photographed – how the Chapel really functioned,” Rasmussen concludes that “the liturgical celebration, however, is only the vehicle, which serves the real aim of the engraver, and that is – clearly and without any possibility of contradiction – the illustration of the Maiestas pontificia, the ‘Papal Majesty’.”20 Commenting further on this engraving, McGinness writes that “the engraving portrays symbolically the spiritual and temporal power of the Papacy and the Roman Curia as center of a city, state, and world. . . .”21 As an advocate for the papacy in Germany, Albrecht V would be not 16

18

19

20

Cited by Ludwig Pastor, The History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages, ed. Ralph Francis Kerr (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1930), vol. 20, p. 42. Gleason, ‘Catholic Reformation’, p. 340, characterizes Pastor’s work in this way: “The still standard History of the Popes . . . immensely useful though it remains, shows signs of its age in its value judgments and apologetic 17 Pastor, History of the Popes, vol. 20, p. 42. approach. . . .” Ibid. Pastor states that with respect to Germany, “Bavaria was indeed at that time the pivot of Catholic hopes.” For a more recent discussion of Albrecht’s political activities in support of the Roman church see Philip M. Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints: Counter-Reformation Propaganda in Bavaria (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 75–80. Niels Krogh Rasmussen, “Maiestas Pontificia: A Liturgical Reading of Etienne Dupérac’s Engraving of the Capella Sixtina from 1578,” Analecta Romana Instituti Danici (Rome), 12 (1983), pp. 109–48, here at 144. 21 McGinness, Right Thinking and Sacred Oratory, p. 87. Ibid., p. 109.

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l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s only an altogether logical dedicatee for this engraving but also one who, as a defender of the papacy, would be in a position to understand and cherish the illustration of the Maiestas pontificia. In his detailed explanation of the engraving, Rasmussen points out that among those present at this papal celebration of the Mass are three dukes (no. 10 on Rasmussen’s schematic, p. 139). While there is no evidence that Albrecht was ever present in the Sistine Chapel at Mass,22 it is plausible that through this dedication Dupérac signified at least a symbolic place for Duke Albrecht at the spiritual and temporal center of the Roman Catholic world – the papal court. McGinness articulates the importance of the papal court in this way: The relationship between heaven and the papal court was even more than a mere image-likeness reflection. At court divine power became more concentrated, so that good works, prayers, and sacrifices acquired greater value and efficacy in God’s eyes. The setting and the liturgical rites of the papal court thus differed both quantitatively and qualitatively from other terrestrial courts. . . . The papal court was therefore quantitatively holier, and as a result more meritorious than any other place on earth. . . . The motif of the papal liturgy as a sacred event in the holy center of the orbis terrarum characterizes many sermons given before popes in the Renaissance. But what then was perhaps more descriptive became in the post-Tridentine era more emphatically the model for order: as heaven and the papal court are ordered, so should the entire world.23

That Dupérac’s engraving of a liturgical celebration in the Sistine Chapel was dedicated to Albrecht in 1578 suggests that Albrecht might well have acquired the engraving. The significance of this depiction is that it makes visible the Tridentine emphasis on Rome as the center of the Catholic Church. Thus, it would carry the connotation for someone within the Catholic Church but outside of Rome that (in the words of McGinness) “as heaven and the papal court are ordered, so should the entire world.”The meaning conveyed by such an engraving, and, more generally, the Tridentine emphasis on Rome, carried with it a host of implications for Albrecht. His death a year later, on 24 October 1579, left such matters to Wilhelm. That precisely one year after Albrecht’s death Lasso was 22

23

Rasmussen, “Maiestas Pontificia,” p. 109, states that “there is no recorded visit of Albert to Rome. . . .” McGinness, Right Thinking and Sacred Oratory, pp. 90–1.

51

daniel zager Table 3.4 Scribal dating of hymn settings in Mus. Ms. 55 Date

Hymn

Folio

1580 9 No 1580 in Novembri 19 Novembris 1581 4 Januarii 1581 7 Januarii 1581 25 Januarii [1581] 10 Martii [1581] 30 Martii 1581 Aprilis 12 1581 15 Aprilis [1581] 20 Apri 1581 25 Aprilis 1581 2 Maÿ 1581 Junii 13 1581 27 Junii 1581 18 Ju 1581 23 Au 1581 25 Au 1581 25 Augusti 1581 27 Au [1581] 29 Au

Iste confessor Jesu corona virginum, verse 2 Jesu corona virginum, verse 4 O lux beata Trinitas Lucis creator optime Ave maris stella Vexilla regis prodeunt Ad coenam agni providi Exultet caelum laudibus Deus tuorum militum Deus tuorum militum Jesu nostra redemptio Veni creator spiritus Ut queant laxis Aurea luce et decore Lauda mater ecclesia Sanctorum meritis Conditor alme siderum, verse 2 Conditor alme siderum, verse 6 Salvete flores martyrum Hostis herodes impie

11 13 15v 39 44 49v 63 68v 136v 142 131 75v 77 101 105 111 146 19 22v 31 33

beginning work on a new musical repertory to match the 1568 Roman breviary is, therefore, of particular significance, constituting, as it does, some of the earliest evidence that Wilhelm indeed intended to use liturgy as a means of embracing Tridentine reforms, therefore linking his own court more explicitly to the papal court in Rome. In the course of copying Mus. Ms. 55, Franz Flori, the chief scribe of the Hofkapelle, dated twenty-one individual settings (nineteen different hymns), a practice that Clive Wearing suggested became more frequent in the 1580s as Lasso’s copyists sought to link newly composed repertories with the newly accepted Tridentine rite.24 The hymns bearing scribal dates are listed chronologically in Table 3.4, showing that Flori began to copy this manuscript at least in November 1580, perhaps earlier since some of the 24

Clive Wearing, “Orlandus Lassus (1532–1594) and the Munich Kapelle,” Early Music, 10 (1982), p. 151.

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l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s hymns are not dated.25 These dates also provide a clue to Flori’s working methods in compiling this manuscript, for the order in which he copied these dated hymns can be related directly to the liturgical needs of the church year. As part of Mus. Ms. 55, Flori included a table of the sanctoral and temporal feasts (together with their associated hymns) that were to be observed at the Munich court chapel during Vespers.26 By correlating the dates provided by Flori for these nineteen hymns with his table of feasts, it is possible to demonstrate that almost all of the hymns dated by Flori were copied shortly before they were needed for a particular sanctoral or temporal feast.27 Table 3.5 demonstrates that the sanctoral hymns were copied just prior to the feasts for which these hymns were appointed. The temporal hymns dated by Flori (see Table 3.6) also were copied according to the needs of the church year. These feasts are moveable depending upon when Easter falls, but in each case it is clear from the traditional progression of the festival part of the church year (Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Ascension, Pentecost, Corpus Christi) that the appropriate hymns were copied prior to the feasts for which they were appointed. Thus, based on the scribal dating of hymns, the operative assumption here is that the manuscript was compiled gradually during 1580–1 – each hymn being copied just prior to its appointed feast, then rehearsed and subsequently performed on that feast. 25

26

27

Boetticher, Lasso, p. 645, proposed approximate dates for the undated hymns; these hymns will be examined in detail below. This table, occupying seven folios immediately following the dedication and preceding the first polyphonic setting, is entitled: “Hymni per totum annum, a[nno] 1581.” The first and longest part of the table is organized by month, beginning with November and ending with October, and lists primarily sanctoral feasts together with their appointed hymns and the folio numbers where each polyphonic setting begins. Following this part of the table is a list of most of the temporal feasts, moveable feasts depending on when Easter falls, together with their hymns. The entire table has been transcribed by Göllner, SWNR, vol. 18, pp. viii–x. The one exception is “Sanctorum meritis,” which was copied on 23 August 1581. Yet the only feast in Flori’s table that calls for this hymn is the feast of Saints Fabian (Pope) and Sebastian, Martyrs, which is observed on 20 January. While a Roman Calendar such as that in the Liber Usualis indicates feasts of Many Martyrs in late August and September, just after the date on which this hymn was copied, none of these feasts is noted in Flori’s table.

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daniel zager Table 3.5 Scribal dating of sanctoral hymns in Mus. Ms. 55 correlated with dates of related sanctoral feasts Scribal date

Feast date Feast

Hymn

9 Nov. 1580 19 Nov. 1580 25 Jan. 1581 12 Apr. 1581 15 Apr. 1581, 20 Apr. 1581 13 June 1581 27 June 1581 18 July 1581

11 Nov. 25 Nov. 2 Feb. 25 Apr. 23 Apr.

Martin, Bishop and Confessor Catherine, Virgin and Martyr Purification of the BVM St. Mark, Apostle and Evangelist St. George, Martyr

Iste confessor Jesu corona virginum Ave maris stella Exultet caelum laudibusa Deus tuorum militumb

24 June 29 June 22 July

Nativity of St. John Baptist Sts. Peter and Paul St. Mary Magdalene

Ut queant laxis Aurea luce et decore Lauda mater ecclesia

Notes: a In his table of feasts and hymns, Flori specified the hymn for Common of Apostles in Paschal Time, “Tristes erant apostoli,” for the feast of St. Mark. While that hymn was not dated by Flori, it probably was copied in April 1581 together with “Exultet caelum laudibus,” the hymn for Common of Apostles. b Lasso provided two settings of “Deus tuorum militum.” The first, copied on 15 April, is for the Common of One Martyr, while the second setting, specified by Flori for the feast of St. George, is for the Common of One Martyr in Paschal Time.

Table 3.6 Scribal dating of temporal hymns in Mus. Ms. 55 correlated with related temporal feasts Scribal date

Hymn

Feast

4 Jan. 1581

O lux beata Trinitas

7 Jan. 1581

Lucis creator optime

10 Mar. 1581 30 Mar. 1581

Vexilla regis prodeunt Ad coenam agni providi

23 Apr. 1581 2 May 1581

Jesu nostra redemptio Veni creator spiritus

Saturdays from the Octave of Epiphany–Quadragesima 1st Sunday after Epiphany to 1st Sunday of Quadragesima (and 3rd Sun. after Pentecost to Advent) Passion Sunday/Palm Sunday Saturdays and Sundays from the Octave of Easter to Ascension Ascension Pentecost

The other thirteen hymn settings, listed in Table 3.7 by the order in which they appear in Mus. Ms. 55, were not dated by Flori. For these hymns, Boetticher proposed approximate dates based on the individual fascicles in which the undated hymns were copied. Presumably, according to 54

l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s Table 3.7 Hymns in Mus. Ms. 55 lacking scribal dates Folios

Hymn

Feast

1v–6 23v–29 50v–53 53v–59 59v–60 86v–99 107v–110 116v–118 118v–122 122v–126 127bisv–130

Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva Christe redemptor omnium/Ex Patre Audi benigne conditor Ad preces nostras Te lucis ante terminum Pange lingua gloriosi Doctor egregie Paulea Petrus beatus catenarum Quicumque Christum quaeritis Tibi Christe splendor patris Tristes erant apostoli

132v–134

Rex gloriose martyrum

151v–155

Urbs beata Jerusalem

All Saints Christmas Lent (weekdays) Lent (Sundays) Compline Corpus Christi Conversion of St. Paul St. Peter’s Chains Transfiguration St. Michael Common of Apostles in Paschal Time Common of Many Martyrs in Paschal Time Dedication of a Church

Note: a Though the setting of “Doctor egregie Paule” was not dated by Flori, Boetticher, Lasso, p. 645, included it with those hymns bearing a scribal date. Since “Doctor egregie” is a stanza of “Aurea luce,” and follows this hymn in Mus. Ms. 55, Boetticher undoubtedly was correct in proposing a copying date of late June, similar to the scribal date of 27 June 1581 for “Aurea luce.” A copying date of late June indicates that the hymn “Doctor egregie” was prepared for the Commemoration of St. Paul, Apostle, on 30 June, one day after the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul. Of course, the hymn “Doctor egregie” also would have been used on 25 January for the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. Flori’s table of feasts and hymns indicates the use of “Doctor egregie” for both of these feasts.

Boetticher, an undated hymn would have been copied at approximately the same time as dated hymns in the same fascicle.28 Several of Boetticher’s proposed copying dates for the undated hymns may be confirmed through liturgical evidence – the correlation of feast designation for each hymn with the liturgical needs of the church year as specified in Flori’s table of feasts, and with the date of that feast in the Roman liturgical calendar. Others of 28

See Boetticher, Lasso, p. 645, for his proposed dating of the undated hymns. He notes there that “Die Zeitlage der undatierten Sätze bestimmen wir annähernd aus dem Ort, der ihnen in den einzelnen Faszikeln zugewiesen ist.” Göllner, SWNR, vol. 18, p. vii, used the same approach in establishing an overall chronology for the hymn collection.

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daniel zager Table 3.8 Temporal hymns for Epiphany and Lent in Mus. Ms. 55 Scribal date

Feast

Hymn

4 Jan. 1581 7 Jan. 1581 [Lacking] [Lacking] 10 Mar. 1581

Epiphany (weekdays) Epiphany (Sundays) Lent (weekdays) Lent (Sundays) Passion/Palm Sundays

O lux beata Trinitas Lucis creator optime Audi benigne conditor Ad preces nostras Vexilla regis prodeunt

Boetticher’s proposed copying dates may be refined considerably by using such liturgical evidence. The two Lenten hymns – “Audi benigne conditor,” for weekdays of Lent up to Passion Sunday, and “Ad preces nostras,” for the first four Sundays of Lent – are among the hymns not dated by Flori. Based on their location in the individual fascicles, Boetticher proposed a copying date of February 1581 for these hymns.29 Table 3.8 shows that this dating is entirely consistent with the liturgical needs of the church year. Flori would have copied “Audi benigne conditor” and “Ad preces nostras” sometime during Epiphany so that they would be ready for use at the beginning of Lent. Thus, Boetticher’s proposed scribal dating of these hymns is confirmed through the requirements of the liturgical calendar. Boetticher proposed a copying date of late May or fall of 1581 for the Corpus Christi hymn “Pange lingua gloriosi.” Corpus Christi is a moveable feast that always falls eleven days after Pentecost.30 Since the Pentecost hymn “Veni creator spiritus” was copied by Flori on 2 May 1581, there is every reason to believe that he would have copied the Corpus Christi hymn shortly thereafter. Thus, early to mid-May would seem to be a more likely scribal date than either of the dates that Boetticher proposed. That “Pange lingua gloriosi” immediately follows “Veni creator spiritus” in Mus. Ms. 55 only serves to strengthen this proposed scribal date. Three of the undated hymns may be assigned more precise scribal 29

30

Since “Audi benigne conditor” and “Ad preces nostras” are flanked by hymns composed in January and March, the logical conclusion is that the two undated hymns were copied sometime during mid- to late January or February. On the importance of the Corpus Christi feast in Bavaria see Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints, pp. 80–90.

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l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s Table 3.9 Scribal dates of hymns assigned to feasts during July, August, September Scribal date

Feast date

Feast

Hymn

18 July 1581 [Lacking] [Lacking] [Lacking]

22 July 1 Aug. 6 Aug. 29 Sept.

St. Mary Magdalene St. Peter’s Chains Transfiguration St. Michael

Lauda mater ecclesia Petrus beatus catenarum Quicumque Christum quaeritis Tibi Christe splendor Patris

dates than those proposed by Boetticher. For two of these hymns, “Petrus beatus catenarum” (St. Peter’s Chains) and “Quicumque Christum quaeritis” (Transfiguration), Boetticher indicated only summer of 1581 as a scribal date. He proposed an even broader range for the scribal date of a third hymn – summer–fall of 1581 for “Tibi Christe splendor Patris” (St. Michael). During the months of July, August, and September, four feasts have hymns assigned primarily to them;31 they are listed in Table 3.9. Since the first of these hymns was dated by Flori, it is possible to narrow considerably the broad range of scribal dates proposed by Boetticher for each of the other three hymns. Based on the dates of the feasts to which these hymns are assigned,“Petrus beatus catenarum”and “Quicumque Christum quaeritis” would have been copied during the last few weeks of July, while “Tibi Christe splendor Patris” would have been copied during August or September. The fact that the four hymns listed in Table 3.9 are copied successively in Mus. Ms. 55 (nos. 22–5) supports the hypothesis that each of the three undated hymns was copied sometime after 18 July but before the date of the respective feast for each hymn. Two of the undated hymns are designated for the Common of Saints during Paschal Time: “Rex gloriose martyrum” (Common of Many Martyrs in Paschal Time), and “Tristes erant apostoli” (Common of Apostles in Paschal Time). Although both hymns are used during Paschal Time, Boetticher proposed quite different scribal dates for these hymns: end of April 1581 for “Rex gloriose martyrum” and early fall 1581 for “Tristes erant apostoli.” Based on the liturgical needs of the church year, 31

All of the other sanctoral feasts during these months employ a hymn from the Common of Saints, or, in the case of Marian feasts, use the hymn “Ave maris stella.”

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daniel zager both of these hymns were probably copied in April 1581 for use on sanctoral feasts occurring in April and May, during Paschal Time.32 The order of hymns in Mus. Ms. 55 supports this conclusion, for Lasso’s setting of “Deus tuorum militum” (Common of One Martyr in Paschal Time), entered in Mus. Ms. 55 between “Tristes erant apostoli”and “Rex gloriose martyrum,” is dated 20 April 1581. Thus, even by using Boetticher’s methodology of assigning a scribal date based on where the hymn is copied in the manuscript, it would be difficult to justify a fall 1581 date for “Tristes erant apostoli,” a hymn that, like other Paschal Time hymns entered near it in the manuscript, would be used primarily during April and May. A more precise scribal date may be proposed for one other of the undated hymns.“Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva,” the hymn for All Saints, is the first hymn entered in the manuscript.33 While Boetticher suggested a scribal date of late 1580 for this hymn, it is possible to set the date more precisely at mid- to late October 1580, therefore making this hymn the first of the entire cycle to be copied by Flori. “Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva” precedes two hymns (nos. 2 and 3 in Mus. Ms. 55) bearing scribal dates in November 1580: “Iste confessor” (9 November 1580) and “Jesu corona virginum” (19 November 1580). Given the fact that “Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva”is needed for the feast of All Saints on 1 November, a scribal date of late October is very plausible. Thus, based on the liturgical needs of the church year, approximate scribal dates may be proposed for all but two of the undated hymns.34 By 32 33

34

See Flori’s table of feasts for April and May in Göllner, SWNR, vol. 18, p. ix. Göllner, SWNR, vol. 18, p. x, pointed out that the winter part of the liturgical calendar begins with the feast of All Saints: “Im Gegensatz zu allen späteren Handschriften fängt der Hymnenzyklus in Mü 55 auffallenderweise nicht mit dem Kirchenjahr, sondern mit dem Fest Allerheiligen, also mit Beginn des Winterteils der Liturgie an, einem Zeitpunkt, an dem auch Messgewänder und bücher gewechselt wurden.” Whether Lasso intentionally began the compilation of his hymn collection at this point in the liturgical calendar is impossible to demonstrate. None the less, it is clear that the organization of hymns in Mus. Ms. 55 is tied directly to the time of the church year when the compilation of the manuscript began. The exceptions are “Te lucis ante terminum,” for Compline, and “Urbs beata Jerusalem,” for the Dedication of a Church. Since these two hymns are not assigned to particular feasts or seasons of the church year, it is impossible to confirm or even test Boetticher’s suggested scribal dates for these hymns: early March 1581 and early September 1581, respectively.

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l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s correlating both dated and undated hymns with the liturgical requirements of the church year as observed at the Munich court chapel (according to the table of feasts and hymns in Mus. Ms. 55), it becomes clear how Flori compiled this earliest source of Lasso’s hymns. Flori entered hymns gradually, probably from late October of 1580 through August of 1581, as they were needed for particular liturgical feasts, both sanctoral and temporal. By September of 1581 the hymn cycle was complete. Thus, when the new church year began in Advent 1581 (late November or early December), Lasso’s hymn cycle was ready for its first complete use over the span of an entire church year. The dates discussed above are scribal dates and not necessarily indicative of Lasso’s dates of composition. The only tangible chronological evidence available for these hymns is the scribal dating, and one cannot assume that the date of composition and the date of copying necessarily approximate each other. Two questions arise concerning the compositional chronology: (1) were the hymns available as a complete corpus before being given to the copyist, or (2) were they composed gradually during 1580–1 and copied shortly thereafter in the same order in which they were composed? The scribal dates and their relation to the liturgical needs of the church year provide an important clue to the question of date of composition. Table 3.10 summarizes the previous discussion by offering a proposed chronology of Flori’s copying of the hymns. The chronology is determined by correlating the designation of feast in each hymn with the date of that feast in the liturgical calendar. Göllner arrived at a substantially similar chronology by correlating the positions in the manuscript of both dated and undated hymns, the same method used by Boetticher. Thus, two different methodologies, liturgical and bibliographical, support a consistent chronology.35 Both the dated and undated hymns are included in Table 3.10, the undated hymns being integrated with the dated hymns according to the dates proposed in the preceding discussion. One aspect of this chronology suggests that Lasso’s hymns were not available to Flori as a complete corpus when he began copying Mus. Ms. 55. It is clear that almost invariably Flori copied a particular hymn shortly 35

Göllner, SWNR, vol. 18, p. vii.

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Table 3.10 Proposed scribal chronology of hymns in Mus. Ms. 55 Scribal datea

Feast

Hymn

No. in Mus. Ms. 55

[Oct. 1580] 9 Nov. 1580

Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva Iste confessor

21 22

Jesu corona virginum O lux beata Trinitas Lucis creator optime Ave maris stella Audi benigne conditor Ad preces nostras Vexilla regis prodeunt Ad coenam agni providi Exultet caelum laudibus Deus tuorum militum Tristes erant apostoli

23 28 29 10 11 12 14 15 29 30 26

Deus tuorum militum

27

[Apr. 1581] 25 Apr. 1581 2 May 1581 [May 1581] 13 June 1581 27 June 1581

All Saints (1 Nov.) Common of Confessors (Martin, Bishop and Confessor, 11 Nov.) Common of Virgins (Catherine, Virgin and Martyr, 25 Nov.) Saturdays per annum Sundays per annum Marian feasts (Purification of the BVM, 2 Feb.) Lent (weekdays) Lent (Sundays) Passion Sunday Octave of Easter Common of Apostles (St. Mark, Apostle and Evangelist, 25 Apr.) Common of One Martyr (St. George, Martyr, 23 Apr.) Common of Apostles in Paschal Time (St. Mark, Apostle and Evangelist, 25 Apr.) Common of One Martyr in Paschal Time (St. George, Martyr, 23 Apr.) Common of Many Martyrs in Paschal Time Ascension Pentecost Corpus Christi St. John Baptist (Nativity of St. John the Baptist, 24 June) Sts. Peter and Paul (29 June)

Rex gloriose martyrum Jesu nostra redemptio Veni creator spiritus Pange lingua gloriosi Ut queant laxis Aurea luce

28 16 17 18 19 20

[June 1581] 18 July 1581 [July 1581] [July 1581] 23 Aug. 1581 [Aug.–Sept. 1581] 25 Aug. 1581 [26 Aug. 1581] 27 Aug. 1581 29 Aug. 1581

Conversion of St. Paul (Commemoration of St. Paul, 30 June) St. Mary Magdalene (22 July) St. Peter’s Chains (1 Aug.) Transfiguration (6 Aug.) Common of Many Martyrs St. Michael (29 Sept.) Advent Christmas Holy Innocents Epiphany

Doctor egregie Paule Lauda mater ecclesia Petrus beatus catenarum Quicumque Christum quaeritis Sanctorum meritis Tibi Christe splendor Patris Conditor alme siderum Christe redemptor omnium/Ex Patre Salvete flores martyrum Hostis Herodes impie

21 22 23 24 31 25 24 25 26 27

19 Nov. 1580 4 Jan. 1581 7 Jan. 1581 25 Jan. 1581 [Feb. 1581] [Feb. 1581] 10 Mar. 1581 30 Mar. 1581 12 Apr. 1581 15 Apr. 1581 [Apr. 1581] 20 Apr. 1581

Note: a Proposed date of a hymn not dated by Flori is enclosed in brackets.

daniel zager before the feast for which it was appointed. The only exceptions to this procedure are the hymns for Advent (“Conditor alme siderum”), Christmas (“Christe redemptor omnium/Ex Patre”), Holy Innocents (“Salvete flores martyrum”), and Epiphany (“Hostis Herodes impie”). All of these hymns are appointed for feasts in December and early January but were copied in late August of 1581, the last hymns to be copied by Flori. Moreover, it is clear from the table of feasts and hymns prepared by Flori for Mus. Ms. 55 that he was keenly aware of the liturgical needs of the church year. Why, then, were the hymns for Advent, Christmas, Holy Innocents, and Epiphany not among the first to be copied, in November–December 1580, so that they would be available for use beginning with the new church year in December 1580? The answer can only be that Lasso had not yet composed them. Had the cycle been composed in toto before copying began, Flori undoubtedly would have copied the hymns strictly in church year order. This anomaly in the order of copying suggests that Flori copied the hymns only as they were given to him by Lasso. Therefore, the scribal chronology likely reflects Lasso’s compositional chronology rather closely.With the exception of the hymns for Advent, Christmas, Holy Innocents, and Epiphany, it would seem that Lasso composed the settings in church year order, returning in August 1581 to the four hymns that, for some reason (perhaps the press of musical duties during Advent and Christmas), he had been unable to compose in November–December 1580, previous to their appointed time in the liturgical calendar. Thus, the evidence of scribal dating and the overall scribal chronology of Mus. Ms. 55 suggests that the cycle was composed gradually between October 1580 and August 1581, largely according to the needs of the liturgical calendar. Lasso’s cycle of polyphonic Latin hymns provides some of the earliest evidence that, in the first year of his reign, Duke Wilhelm V was committed to implementing Tridentine liturgical reforms at his court. The composition and copying of the hymn cycle, extending from October 1580 to August 1581, predates the arrival in Munich of Walram Tumler, who in October 1581 came from the Jesuits’ German College in Rome to assist the Munich court in observing Roman liturgical ceremonies more closely.36 While 36

Regarding Tumler see Thomas D. Culley, Jesuits and Music: I: A Study of the Musicians Connected with the German College in Rome During the 17th Century

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l as s o ’ s c yc l e o f p o ly ph o n i c l at i n h y m n s Tumler’s presence in Munich has long provided evidence of Wilhelm’s desire for liturgical reform, it is clear that Tumler’s arrival did not constitute the initial catalyst for such change, which, given the chronology of Lasso’s work on the hymn cycle, was already underway in 1580 (only one year after Albrecht’s death in October 1579). Thus, Lasso’s composition of a hymn cycle is motivated specifically by post-Tridentine liturgical change at the Munich court.37 While Wilhelm’s decision to embrace Tridentine liturgical reforms may be viewed in part as obedience to a papal decree regarding use of the 1568 Breviarium Romanum, it was, more importantly, an explicit means of identifying the Bavarian ducal court with its ultimate model – the papal court in Rome.

37

and of Their Activities in Northern Europe, Sources and Studies for the History of the Jesuits 2 (Rome: Jesuit Historical Institute, 1970), pp. 89–92; Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 189–90; and Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats, pp. 335–8. This collection did not originate, as Boetticher, Lasso, p. 648, has suggested, from a vague “unknown, exterior cause”: “Mag auch ein fremder äußerer Anlaß den Meister genötigt haben, sein Hymnarium 1581 zu entwerfen. . . .” In attempting to establish the stimulus for Lasso’s hymn cycle, Boetticher, Lasso, p. 649, omitted any reference to a direct liturgical stimulus, emphasizing instead musical style change in accord with Tridentine aesthetic sensibilities.

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4

The salon as marketplace in the 1550s: patrons and collectors of Lasso’s secular music donna g. cardamone 1

In 1555 the Flemish music printer, Tielman Susato, issued a miscellany of Lasso’s works under two separate titles, the first in French and the second in Italian, resulting in an edition often referred to as the composer’s “Opus l.” The Italian-titled issue, by far the more accurate of the two in respect to text placement, was dedicated to Stefano Gentile, a prominent merchant-banker in the Genoese nation of Antwerp.2 This collective enterprise not only marked the debut of madrigals and villanelle in the Low Countries, but it was the first publication that Lasso authorized and corrected in situ,3 leaving the impression that he selected compositions from a substantial repertory and meticulously edited them to satisfy a very particular patron and community of Italian readers whose interpretive styles he knew well.Although Lasso’s dedicatory letter speaks eloquently to Gentile’s love of music,his patron had an equally strong passion for poetry as evinced in various books dedicated to him by humanist scholars.4 This combina1

2

3

4

Research support for this article was provided by the University of Minnesota, CLA Scholar of the College Award. I am most grateful to Jane Bernstein, Jeanice Brooks, Franca Camiz, and Mary Lewis for their advice on many points. D’Orlando di Lassus il primo libro dovesi contengono Madrigali, Vilanesche, Canzoni francesi, e Motetti, a quattro voci (RISM 1555b). The French-titled issue (RISM 1555a) includes the phrase “faictz a la Nouvelle composition d’aucuns d’Italie.” Kristine K. Forney, “Orlando di Lasso’s ‘Opus 1’: The Making and Marketing of a Renaissance Music Book,” Revue belge de musicologie, 39–40 (1985–6), pp. 45–51; Donna G. Cardamone and David L. Jackson, “Multiple Formes and Vertical Setting in Susato’s First Edition of Lassus’s ‘Opus 1’,” Notes, 45 (1989), pp. 23–4. Saskia Willaert and Katrien Derden, “Het mecenaat van de Genuese natie in Antwerpen in de tweede helft van de 16de eeuw,” Orlandus Lassus en Antwerpen 1554–1556 (Antwerp: Stad Antwerpen, 1994), pp. 52–4.

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t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e

1550s

tion of interests suggests that Gentile vied with his compatriots for attention from the cultured elite by organizing festive social gatherings enhanced by music and recitation of poetry. Indeed, the Venetian humanist Gian Michele Bruto was struck by the spirit of competition among Genoese merchants when recalling the hospitality he received in Antwerp during 1554 and 1555, the very period of time in which Lasso attracted Gentile’s patronage.5 We know from Quickelberg’s biography of Lasso that some of his time in Antwerp was spent “teaching music to the most illustrious, learned, and noble persons by whom he came to be loved and richly honored.”6 When interpreted in a broader context this remark means that Lasso, an ambitious newcomer to a city known for its competitive private spaces, won recognition in coteries of patrician dilettantes seeking instruction in music, which they considered a worthy accomplishment. In Antwerp it was natural that coteries devoted to the vernacular arts and patterned on Italian models would form in the cosmopolitan merchant colonies.7 While these groups were generally described as accademie in contemporary literature, only a few maintained membership lists and formal statutes. The typical academy at mid-century in northern Europe and Italy was an informal sodality of friends that met in a spacious home with salons to accommodate conversations, banquets, and musical entertainments. In academies focused almost exclusively on music, a maestro di musica was appointed to teach and organize performances, while groups with no special musical agenda hired an advisor as needed. Polished selfpresenters could advance up the social ladder as long as they met the requirements of the privileged class that held and attended academies. Since Lasso was amply endowed with the improvisatory wit expected in such gatherings, one might imagine that he attracted invitations as a

5

6 7

Karel Bostoen, “Italian Academies in Antwerp: Schiappalaria and Vander Noot as ‘Inventors’ for the Genoese Community,” Italian Academies of the Sixteenth Century (London: The Warburg Institute, 1995), p. 196. Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 298–301. Stefano Schiappalaria, writing in the 1570s, claimed that an Academy of the Gioiosi was “founded some years ago in Antwerp” (Bostoen, “Italian Academies,” p. 195). Some scholars have proposed that the Gioiosi flourished about 1554–5, but its existence has never been verified.

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d o n na g . c a r da m o n e favored guest rather than as mere entertainer or teacher. Under these circumstances, he could mentor by example and stimulate coterie performances as well.8 An intriguing hint of coterie performance in Antwerp is found in Lasso’s chromatic motet, “Alma Nemes,” which he may have composed at Gentile’s request to honor a female singer known as Nemes.9 The final lines not only pay tribute to her extraordinary vocal powers, but they allude to personal engagement with the composer himself, a capable singer: “Come, let your voice with which you make rivers stand still, sing a mellifluous new song with me” (emphasis mine). Nemes was probably a woman of high birth from Gentile’s inner circle. Her pseudo-antique name referring to Nemesis – the nymph goddess of due enactment – is reminiscent of an academic tradition in which members took nicknames that stress, by ironical paradox, some personal quality. In Lasso’s expressive construction of Nemes, she is endowed with the positive attributes of a divine enchantress and figuratively entrusted with the responsibility of transmitting music “composed in the new manner of some Italians” (see note 2). Bearing in mind that Lasso came to Antwerp in 1554 from Rome, where the salon was the main marketplace for commerce in secular music, it is understandable that he would initially display his talents in the homes of merchants intent on increasing their status by supporting the fashionable new music from Italy. Lasso’s success in attracting a Genoese benefactor and supportive printer can be attributed in part to his ability to promote his own interests by weaving intricate webs of relations, a strategy he had to deploy in Roman high society where trust was rare and fitful. His easy accommodation to northern print culture stands in sharp contrast to the conditions he faced in Rome where his music was widely transmitted in manuscript, but published only after he left and then, it seems, without his explicit consent. Thus my first concern will be to reconstruct the mecha8

9

In the German version of Quickelberg’s biography, Lasso taught (“lernt”) music, but in the Latin version the analogous word is “excitavit” meaning to stimulate interest. In the dedication to his “Opus l,” Lasso disclosed that he conceived some of the compositions in Antwerp: “I give to print, my magnificent and honored Signor, a part of my efforts composed in Antwerp after returning from Rome... .” “Alma nemes” appears at the end of the book paired with Rore’s chromatic motet, “Calami sonum ferentes.”

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1550s

nisms of artistic exchange in Roman salons and to situate Lasso in relation to the individuals that traded on his name.10 In pursuing this line of investigation, I shall bring forward the multiple roles played by Roman editori and printers in the initial stage of collecting and marketing Lasso’s music.11 I In 1555, the same year that Lasso assembled his first opus in Antwerp, Valerio Dorico compiled and printed an anthology of villanelle in Rome with Lasso’s name displayed prominently on the title page: Villanelle d’Orlando di Lassus e d’altri eccellenti musici libro secondo (RISM 155530; the first book is lost). Yet Dorico failed to indicate which villanelle were composed by Lasso or to supply any attributions whatsoever. At first glance this anthology appears to be a surreptitious form of commercial exploitation in which Dorico appropriated Lasso’s name in absentia and without permission. However, when it is viewed in the context of normative modes of transmission and textual production in urban salon culture, a richly textured picture of creative exchange emerges from which Lasso stood indirectly to benefit. Throughout the sixteenth century the various genres of Italian secular music thrived in salons where creative individuals gathered to discuss one another’s works and to circulate them in manuscript before they were printed.12 In this poetics of “group improvisation,” writers were positioned, together with composers, as “readers and producers simultaneously.”13 Their readers, in turn, understood that they were alluding to, commenting upon or reworking other compositions – the same principles of imitatio often observed by Lasso and his contemporaries when producing 10

11

12

13

I owe the concept of the urban salon as marketplace to Martha Feldman, City Culture and the Madrigal at Venice (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995), pp. 21–2. On the growth of collecting and its effects, see Mary S. Lewis, “Manuscripts and Printed Music in the World of Patrons and Collectors,” Atti del XIV congresso della Società Internazionale di Musicologia: Trasmissione e recezione delle forme di cultura musicale, vol. 1, Round Tables (Turin: Edizioni di Torino, 1990), pp. 320–5. On these activities in the Roman palace of the Altoviti family, where Lasso resided in 1551, see my article, “Orlando di Lasso and Pro-French Factions in Rome,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 31–2. Ann Rosalind Jones, The Currency of Eros: Women’s Love Lyric in Europe, 1540–1620 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991), p. 3.

67

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e madrigals and villanelle. In this milieu copies of recent compositions were casually handed around, individually or in sets, becoming the property of whoever wanted to keep or publish them. Modes of production depended in large measure upon the social standing of participants and their attitude toward print culture. For example, the work of an exclusive aristocratic salon would often be collected in manuscript albums, because some members of the feudal nobility (the old knightly class) considered print beneath their station, desiring scripted fame instead. In contrast, the work of a salon open to diverse social classes and professional affiliations was often published in a group-authored volume, sometimes without the consent or knowledge of participants. Now Dorico’s anthology undoubtedly represents the work of a diverse group in which he, enabled by fluid social conventions, operated as an insider. The tone of his dedicatory letter is remarkably direct and amicable, confirming knowledge of his patron’s habits and taste: To the generous M. Francesco Guidobono. Here for you, dear M. Francesco, is an array of choice villanelle by which charming and graceful shepherdesses come to venerate your exquisite noble intellect, being portents of the future in which that intellect will be just as illustrious and splendid as providential for this worthy and excellent art of music. So welcome these villanelle agreeably, and while amusing yourself with them sometimes, be reminded of someone who cares about you. In your service, Valerio Dorico.14

[Giovan] Francesco Guidobono II (b. 1544) was the son of Nicola Guidobono di Giovan Francesco, scion of a prominent noble family from Tortona (then in the state of Milan). By age ten Francesco had been provided with a major benefice and sent to Rome to prepare for an ecclesiastical career, having already taken minor orders.15 Notarial records describe him as a cleric and abbot in commendam of the monastery of S. Paolo outside the 14

15

For the original dedication, see Suzanne G. Cusick, Valerio Dorico, Music Printer in Sixteenth-Century Rome (Ann Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1981), p. 186. Under canon law the recipient of ordination had to have a means of support such as a benefice or private income, and he must have attained the appropriate age, about seven for first tonsure and minor orders. Denys Hay, The Church in Italy in the Fifteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), p. 51.

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walls of Tortona.16 Francesco was able to reap the fruits of an ecclesiastical office in his home region (which in effect he never occupied) because his uncle, Giovan Battista Guidobono, had compiled a distinguished record of service to the Roman court as judge of the Rota.17 Most likely the judge maintained his own home in Rome and provided quarters for his protégé.18 Italian noblemen like the Guidobonos with lucrative appointments usually came from regions in which a cardinal held major benefices or had been given administrative responsibilities. Their chances of attaining a brilliant career in the church increased with a cardinal’s protection and the opportunity to acquire a benefice vacated by a member of his household.19 Thus far it has not been possible to connect Francesco to a cardinal-protector, 16

17

18

19

Francesco was nominated for the benefice in a constitutio dated 27 January 1554, and described as “discretus adolescens Jo. Franc.s Guidobonus Terdonen in decimo etatis suo anno.” Rome, Archivio di Stato, Notai Auditor Camerae, vol. 6164, fol. 121. Marginalia in records pertaining to the benefice verify that he was known informally as Francesco. During the process of nomination, Francesco was granted license to take possession of the benefice without expedition of bulls and to derive its fruits. On 26 October 1554 the judge ruled in favor of his nephew, “omnes et singules fructus” (ibid., vol. 6166, fol. 312). Another document, dated 14 October 1556, contradicts the temporary nature of the nomination with the title perpetual commendator, that is for life: “Johannes Franciscus Guidobonis clericus Terdonen abbas perpetuus comm.e datarius abbatie Sancti Pauli prope et extra muros Terdonens” (ibid., vol. 6172, fol. 376). I am truly grateful to Franca Camiz for discovering and sharing the content of all the documents relating to the Guidobonos, which were recorded by the notary Reidettus. In 1545 the Camera Capitolina met in secret to confer Roman citizenship on “huomini eccellenti et virtuosi et facultosi,” among them Giovan Battista Guidobono. Rome, Archivio Capitolino, Atti della Camera Capitolina, credenzone, vol. 18, fols. 6–7. Francesco’s brother, Giovan Battista Guidobono (namesake of the judge), served both Albrecht and Wilhelm of Bavaria and fraternized with Lasso, although this friendship seems to have evolved circumstantially, independent of any prior connection to the Guidobono family. In a letter to Wilhelm (2 April 1576), Lasso tells of gambling with Giovan Battista and winning handsomely. See Leuchtmann, Briefe, p. 181. On the details of Giovan Battista’s career (and that of his maternal uncle, Prospero Visconti, who collected music for Albrecht), see Henri Simonsfeld, “Mailänder Briefe zur bayerischen und allgemeinen Geschichte des 16. Jahrhunderts,” Abhandlungen der historischen Classe der Königlich Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 22 (1902), pp. 488–93. Gigliola Fragnito, “Cardinals’ Courts in Sixteenth-Century Rome,” Journal of Modern History, 65 (1993), p. 53.

69

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e although a logical person to consider would be the worldly-minded Ippolito II d’Este, Archbishop of Milan (with jurisdiction over Tortona)20 and an active supporter of Roman musicians throughout his career. Francesco Guidobono, too, believed that a necessary step in his social ascent was to become a patron of music, which he undertook at the tender age of eleven. But he must have been guided in this venture by his uncle, whose enthusiasm for villanelle probably arose through contacts formed in Naples. The elder Guidobono held the office of Monsignor at the Neapolitan church of the Santissima Annunziata in 1546, the same year in which the choirmaster and poet-composer, Giovan Thomaso di Maio, published a collection of canzoni villanesche and established the paradigm for a metrical form in wide use until about 1565 (in Rome villanesche were sometimes called villanelle). Two-thirds of the compositions in Dorico’s anthology have this form (abb abb abb ccc), including the opening villanella, which is unique among Roman anthologies in providing readers with a context for understanding how the repertory at hand evolved. This villanella is narrated by the leader of a group of improvisers preparing to perform for an expectant audience. However, in the course of collaboration they experience some indecision, which the leader resolves by pointedly invoking a fatherly figure: 1

Credo che sia meglio ca se risolvemo Farli sentire qualche villanella: Orsù, dicimo questa e ‘no di quella.

I think it’s better that we resolve To make them hear some villanelle: Come on, let’s recite one of this and one of that. Quanto tardiamo chiù, chiù ce facimo The more we delay, the more we’ll Rompere a quisto e quillo le cervelle: Bust our brains making this and that: Orsù, dicimo questa e ‘no di quella. Come on, let’s recite one of this and one of that. Non dubitate ca ci accordiamo, No doubt we’ll come to an agreement,

2

3

20

Conrad Eubel, Hierarchia catholica medii et recentioris aevi (Regensburg: Monasterii, 1923), vol. 3, p. 310. D’Este resigned the archbishopric of Milan in 1550, but reserved collation of benefices until 1558. See Lucy Byatt, “Este, Ippolito d’,” Dizionario biografico degli italiani (Rome: Società Grafica Romana, 1993), vol. 43, p. 367. G. B. Guidobono’s cardinal-protector was probably Umberto de Gambara from Tortona (d. 1549).

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t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e Et saccio ca dirimo la chiù bella: Orsù, dicimo questa e ‘no di quella. 4

O che bregogna dir tante parole, Ognun canta e dica quale vuole, Ca d’un patrea tutte son figliole. a Neapolitan

1550s

And I know that we’ll recite the most beautiful one: Come on, let’s recite one of this and one of that. Oh, what a shame to utter so many words, Let each person sing and recite what he likes, Because all [villanelle] are daughters of one father.

dialect for padre.

This “keynote” villanella recalls a custom practiced two decades earlier in Roman literary academies and institutionalized by the Accademia della Virtù. Every week during the carnival season the membership selected a person with attributes of a king to host a banquet at which his “vassals” staged a competition in his honor featuring improvisation of original verse to instrumental accompaniment.21 Significantly, some members of the Virtù referred to themselves as “padri,” even after the academy had folded. Although Monsignor Guidobono’s name does not appear in documents pertaining to this academy or its successors, it is still plausible that he and his friend Annibal Caro,22 one of the original Virtuosi, kept the tradition of competitive improvising alive in Rome. Clearly the opening villanella of Francesco’s anthology is a thematic device intended to draw attention to an extemporaneous activity that thrived under Guidobono patronage. Thus some readers might have understood the Monsignor as the “patre”and host of competitions from which a repertory of “choice”villanelle descended.At the center of this activity, however, is the leader, to be construed as Lasso because his name stands out on the title page in the company of “other excellent musicians.” There remains the possibility that the anthology was commissioned shortly after Lasso left Rome in retrospective recognition of contributions 21

22

Michele Maylender, Storia delle accademie d’Italia (Bologna: Licinio Cappelli, 1930), vol. 5, pp. 466–7 and 478–80. Caro’s friendship with Guidobono is disclosed in a letter of 31 December 1546. See Annibal Caro: Lettere familiari, ed. Aulo Greco (Florence: Felice Le Monnier, 1959), vol. 2, p. 23.

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d o n na g . c a r da m o n e he had made to the Guidobono household. Lasso’s previous history of employment in aristocratic homes with young children and active musical salons (d’Azzia in Naples and Altoviti in Rome), combined with his stature as choirmaster of the Lateran Church, suggests that he would have been an ideal preceptor for Francesco and organizer of domestic entertainments as well. In this hypothetical scenario the Guidobonos stood to inherit expendable copies of villanelle that Lasso and his cohorts created under informal conditions solely for purposes of amusement. Published as trios for two high voices and a tenor, they were well suited to performance by Francesco and his adolescent friends or by an adult ensemble with the upper parts taken by falsettists. The most popular villanella in the anthology proved to be “Voria che tu cantas’ una canzona,” a solmization piece subsequently reworked by six different composers who may have believed that Lasso composed the model (see Ex. 4.1).23 Neither the usual musical puns on solmization syllables nor inganni are present in the model, however. The humor resides instead in the poem, which centers on the figurative meaning of “cantare la solfa”(to copulate). Double meanings arise from verbal punning on the syllables (sol fa/solfa, so la/sola, fa mi/fami) or from references to playing upon instruments which, in popular song traditions, signify love-making. Citation of the famous adage, “la sol fa re mi (re),” at the end of the final strophe provides a droll pun on Lasso’s name, which may have been intentional. 1

Voria che tu cantas’ una canzona, Quando mi stai sonando la viola, E che dicessi: fa mi la mi so la. Voria lo basso far col violone,

2

Tutto di contraponto alla spagnola, E che dicessi: fa mi la mi so la. Voria toccassi sempre di bordone,

3

23

I would like you to sing a song, While you are playing the viol for me, And for you to say: fa mi la mi so la. I would like to make the bass part with the violone, All of counterpoint in the Spanish style, And for you to say: fa mi la mi so la. I would like you always to finger the drone,

Isabelle His, “Les modèles italiens de Claude Le Jeune,” Revue de musicologie, 77 (1991), pp. 42–3.

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t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e

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Example 4.1: Anon., “Voria che tu cantas’ una canzona,” Villanelle d’Orlando di Lassus (Rome: V. Dorico, 1555), no. XV. Cantus from 1555 ed., tenor from 1558 repr. (RISM 155816, no. XVI), bass reconstructed

73

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e Sonando sol re fa, non sol fa so la, Sounding sol re fa, not sol fa so la, E che dicessi: fa mi la mi so la. And for you to say: fa mi la mi so la. Ch’io cantaria per accordar con tene, Then I would sing to harmonize with you, Dolce conforto mio caro, mio bene, My sweet comfort, my dear beloved, Tutta la notte: la sol fa re mi re. All night long: la sol fa re mi re.

4

Not surprisingly, a book filled with such clever songs invigorated the market for villanelle and allowed Dorico to mobilize his business with a reprint. Most likely he depended upon a generous subvention from the Guidobono family for the first edition, because the Roman market was not strong enough to support independent sponsorship of publications by music printers. By taking little financial risk at the outset, Dorico would have made a good return when he reprinted the anthology in 1558 (one of two reprints in his single-impression annals).24 Lasso’s gain, of course, was not financial but rather steady public exposure of his name. To clarify our understanding of Lasso’s position in the Roman marketplace, it is helpful to consider other types of financial arrangements and methods of collecting his music, especially those in which local editori played defining roles. II Like the struggling writers residing in Rome during the 1550s, young composers faced a competitive environment in respect to attracting subsidies for publications devoted exclusively to their works. Some may even have preferred to promote themselves by circulating compositions informally in hospitable salons or selling them to collectors and printers for a flat fee rather than risking their meager funds in temporary partnerships with printers.25 However, dedications to some madrigal books provide evidence that a consequence of self-promotion could be publication without the author’s knowledge or consent, for example, Dorico’s unauthorized edition of Monte’s first book of five-voice madrigals in 1554 (RISM 24

25

26

The other one is Canzoni alla napolitana de diversi eccellentissimi autori novamente ristampati, libro primo (RISM 155719). The first edition is lost. Jane A. Bernstein, “Financial Arrangements and the Role of Printer and Composer in Sixteenth-Century Italian Music Printing,” Acta musicologica, 63 (1991), pp. 50–2. Brian Mann, The Secular Madrigals of Filippo di Monte, 1521–1603 (Ann Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1983), p. 3.

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1550s

M3327).26 The dedication by the editore Giovanbattista Bruno to Cavalier Honofrio Vigili, then caporione of Rome, discloses that Vigili’s home was a magnet for musicians, thus offering Bruno the opportunity to collect the latest works by rising stars: Most honored cavalier, this book justly and fittingly fulfills the debt of my devoted service, and similarly the obligation that this truly divine power of music owes you today in Rome, as all the elegant spirits gathered regularly in your home to enjoy the generous effects of your beautiful soul, will fully testify.27

Continuing,Bruno takes all the credit for bringing Monte’s madrigals to light, just as he would do later in his dedication to Secondo libro delle Muse a Cinque Voci, madrig. d’Orlandus di Lassus (Rome: Antonio Barrè, RISM 1557b). This time the enterprising collector positions himself in Spoleto (Vigili’s hometown), disclosing a location where copies of Lasso’s madrigals circulated as a set: Finding myself a while ago in Spoleto, I happened by chance upon many madrigals by Orlando di Lassus full of sweetness and art, which I held in my possession for a long time, and because they are fruits of that most rare talent, I am inclined by the requests of an infinite number of discriminating intellects to keep them hidden no longer.28

Bruno also makes it clear that in the past he expended a great deal of effort collecting music for his patron, Pier Francesco Ferrero, Bishop of Vercelli. Moreover, he claims to be an “intimate friend” of Lasso, whom he predicts will “attain great fortune”under Ferrero’s protection. If Bruno was telling the truth, then under what circumstances would a friendly association with Lasso evolve? Inmid-centuryRometherewerenormallythreepartiestoanyprinting contract: the printer, the editore or guarantor of financial support, and the author or his agent, often a friend.29 Financial arrangements made for the publication of music books were often more complicated and editori,in particular, assumed multiple roles. For instance, Bruno was a collector who 27 28 29

For the original dedication, see Cusick, Valerio Dorico, p. 183. For the original dedication, see SW, vol. 2, pp. xvii–xviii. Cusick, Valerio Dorico, pp. 93–4, summarizes the general practice which is consistent with the few contracts for printing music that have survived. See also Bernstein, “Financial Arrangements,” passim.

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d o n na g . c a r da m o n e found silent partners in Vigili and Ferrero, and it is conceivable that he formed liaisons with composers as well. In spring 1554, when Lasso realized he would have to leave Rome hurriedly to visit his ailing parents,he may have approached Bruno knowing that he made a habit of attending salons where his music circulated in manuscript copies. If all the copies could not be retrieved before departing – which is plausible – then Lasso might have authorizedBrunotoroundthemupandfindasupportivepatronandprinter. There is, in fact, virtually no evidence that composers took pains to keep their music out of the hands of editori, and it appears that Lasso himself trusted the Venetian editore, Giulio Bonagiunta, to see his second book of motets (RISM 1565c) through the press.30 One wonders, then, if Lasso’s initial foray into Venetian publishing – the first book of five-part madrigals – was a calculated move on his part, masterminded by Bruno. Issued by Gardano in 1555 (RISM 1555c, reprinted thirteen times between 1557 and 1586), this book was even more crucial to establishing Lasso’s European reputation than Susato’s miscellany. However, the circumstances under which Gardano obtained the madrigals are puzzling. While claiming to have printed them for the first time, he does not provide the dedication customarily found in a first edition. No earlier edition has ever been located, although a logical place of publication would have been Rome. These circumstances leave open the possibility that by 1555 Bruno had collected enough of Lasso’s five-voice madrigals to fill two books, working arduously for Ferrero as he disclosed in the dedication to the second book. Moreover, he may have undercut Vigili by operating surreptitiously on his turf for a wealthy bishop whom he described in the second book as “mio vero et unico Padrone.”31 Another Roman editore whom Lasso may have known was Francesco 30

31

In the dedication Bonagiunta claims that Lasso generously gave him some motets to use as he wished, for the editor’s own benefit, which suggests that Lasso was not yet financially prepared to negotiate terms of publication for his steadily growing repertory of motets. See CM, vol. 5, p. xi and Plate 2, which includes a translation of the dedication. Ferrero, from a powerful noble house in Piedmont, became cardinal in 1561 after serving as papal legate to the court of Philip II and as papal nuncio in Venice. In 1556 he participated in Pope Paul IV’s commission on reform and may have met Bruno in Rome at that time. See Alessandro Gnavi, “Ferrero, Pier Francesco,” Dizionario biografico degli italiani (Rome: Società Grafica Romana, 1997), vol. 47, p. 35.

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1550s

Tracetti. Evidently aware that the market value of Lasso’s madrigals was rising in Italy, he acquired a set and published them in association with Dorico: Il primo libro delli madrigali d’Orlando di Lassus et altri eccellenti musici a quattro voci (RISM 156018).32 Tracetti’s dedication to cardinal Louis I de Guise, like Bruno’s to Ferrero, leaves the distinct impression that he sought to polish Lasso’s image as well as to increase his own status in curial circles: To the Illustrious and most Reverend Signor, Monsignor, Cardinal Guise. Having brought together certain madrigals by Orlando di Lassus, and desiring that such a sweet concept be made known to the world by bringing them to light, I thought it would be proper to dedicate them to you, most Illustrious and Reverend Signor, for two reasons. First, I believe that all beautiful and virtuous works should be dedicated to you, because you encourage and support virtuous artists. Second, because by bringing them out under the name of such a kind, courteous, and generous Signor, they will be seen, read, and sung by virtuous persons with so much more pleasure. Therefore most Illustrious Signor, deign to accept my very humble gift as a token of the faithful service and devotion that I bring you, and retain me for the most humble and devoted servant that I am, and in kissing your honorable hand, I pray that God may grant you all the happiness you desire. Rome, 15 January 1560 [recte 1561]. Most humble and devoted servant, Francesco Tracetti.33

The extent of Tracetti’s connection to cardinal de Guise is not known, although it is conceivable that he operated as an agent to further the interests of the culturally ambitious Guise family, whose patronage of artists and musicians from Rome increased steadily during the 1550s.34 If he is identi32

33

34

Dorico reprints the seven madrigals that Lasso included in his “Opus l,” but in a different order. Moreover, the quality of editorial correction is far inferior and not at all typical of Dorico’s products (Cusick, Valerio Dorico, p. 87). Here is an example of how sets of the same compositions circulated in different geographical locations, the separately obtained copy in Rome in need of a competent editor. For the original dedication, see Cusick, Valerio Dorico, pp. 194–5, and SW, vol. 8, p. vi. Cusick assumed the cardinal to be Charles de Guise, but after 1547 Charles was known as cardinal of Lorraine. His younger brother Louis took the title cardinal de Guise upon his elevation in 1553. Jeanice Brooks, “Italy, the Ancient World and the French Musical Inheritance in the Sixteenth Century: Arcadelt and Clereau in the Service of the Guises,” Journal of the Royal Musical Association, 121 (1996), pp. 147–90.

77

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e cal to the Francesco Tracetti employed as a tenor in the choir at San Lorenzo in Damaso (annexed to the Apostolic Chancery) from January 1564 to December 1569, then he was ideally situated to pursue his interests in collecting music.35 His name surfaces later in notarial records where he is described as “gallus belgicus”and father of two musical sons, one of considerable means.36 Most of the persons responsible for collecting Lasso’s compositions and bringing them to light lived in adjacent districts in the heart of Renaissance Rome. The printers, Barrè and Dorico, operated their presses in S. Angelo, the district that Vigili represented. Clearly well positioned to build informal neighborhood networks upon pragmatic interests, they looked for social definition by establishing ties with local officials like Vigili.37 In Rome class boundaries between artisans, bureaucrats, and courtiers were vague and easily traversed, resulting in strongly felt connections between persons of diverse occupations with shared values, including the two music printers who were not mere artisans, but well-educated men. This explains the ease with which Barrè, a French priest, entered Vigili’s circle shortly after he arrived in Rome.38 Before turning printer in 1555, 35

36

37

38

Luca Della Libera, “L’attività musicale nella basilica di S. Lorenzo in Damaso nel Cinquecento,” Rivista italiana di musicologia, 32 (1997), p. 56. In 1580 Tracetti’s son Lorenzo presented his bride with 200 gold scudi and many precious jewels. Lorenzo was a lutenist whose estate, passing to his father upon premature death, consisted of several plucked string instruments, a clavicembalo, eleven books of intabulations and partbooks for compositions in five voices – the makings of a well-equipped musical salon. Vera Vita Spagnuolo, “Gli atti notarili dell’Archivio di Stato di Roma: Saggio di spoglio sistematico, l’anno 1590,” La musica a Roma attraverso le fonti d’archivio: Atti del Convegno Internazionale Roma 4–6 Giugno 1992, ed. Bianca Maria Antolini et al. (Lucca: Libreria Musicale Italiana, 1994), pp. 26, 41–2. Barrè dedicated his first book of four-voice madrigals (1552, RISM B951) to Vigili as well as the first music book that he printed: Primo libro delle muse a cinque voci (RISM 155526). See John Steele, “Antonio Barré: Madrigalist, Anthologist and Publisher in Rome – Some Preliminary Findings,” Altro Polo: Essays on Italian Music in the Cinquecento, ed. Richard Charteris (Sydney: Frederick May Foundation for Italian Studies, 1990), pp. 92–3. Barrè is named as “Dominus Antonius Bari” in a contract to print Eliseo Ghibellini’s Introitus missarum (1564). See Gian Ludovico Masetti-Zannini, Stampatori e librai a Roma nella seconda metà del Cinquecento: Documenti inediti (Rome: Fratelli Palombi Editori, 1980), p. 226. Barrè may have been related to the De La Barre family, whose most illustrious member was Antonius De La

78

t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e

1550s

Barrè had been active both as composer and singer in the Cappella Giulia, forming contacts and developing the instincts he needed to function as anthologist. Flexible modes of transmission in Roman salons allowed Barrè to validate his method of gathering music by inferring that composers acted irresponsibly. Nowhere is Barrè more explicit than in the dedication to his Terzo libro delle Muse (RISM 15627, an anthology containing three previously unpublished madrigals by Lasso), when he asserts that the works would have “almost perished through the negligence of their masters,” had it not been for his diligent efforts in recovering them.39 In bringing out Lasso’s third book of madrigals for five voices (RISM 1563c), Barrè covered his tracks by exclaiming how gratifying the composer’s works were for musicians and everybody else.40 To summarize thus far, Lasso’s madrigals were continuously collected in Rome and environs for almost a decade after his departure, a process he appears to have set in motion by allowing copies of his works to circulate in musical salons. If Lasso actually trusted Bruno to negotiate terms of publication, without risking his own funds, then he sacrificed very little for the sake of increasing his reputation in Italy. But these are only attractive speculations. More demonstrable is the way in which Roman salon culture was animated by the influx of musicians from the kingdom of Naples. In turning to explore this matter, I shall stress reception of the Neapolitan genres Lasso and his companions cultivated while in Rome, contributing to the formation of a musical axis that ultimately extended to France. III Nestled among the villanelle in Guidobono’s book is a pair of Neapolitan arie in the proposta-risposta form so appealing to improvisers. The protagonists are aristocratic lovers lamenting their separation by political exile,

39

40

Barre I, appointed Archbishop of Tours in 1528. See Gallia christiana in provincias ecclesiasticus distributa, ed. Bartolomaeus Hauréau (Paris: Firmin Didot, 1856), vol. 14, col. 133. Emil Vogel, Biblioteca della musica vocale italiana di genere profano, con aggiunti del Professore Alfred Einstein (Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag, 1972), vol. 2, p. 656. The anthology is dedicated to Innico Piccolomini, Duke of Amalfi, then living in exile in Rome. See Scipione Ammirato, Delle famiglie nobili napoletane (Florence: Amadore Massi da Furlì, 1651), parte seconda, pp. 273–4. Il Nuovo Vogel: Bibliografia della musica italiana vocale profana pubblicata dal 1500 al 1700 (Pomezia-Geneva: Staderini-Minkoff, 1977), vol. 1, p. 905.

79

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e yet poignantly holding out hope for a reunion in the homeland. These arie came to be popularly associated with the Prince and Princess of Salerno, who attracted public attention in 1552 when the prince was banished from the kingdom of Naples for defecting to France. The widespread oral transmission of the lyrics in variant forms as canzoni da cantare suggests that key figures in their continual re-creation were musical exiles, among them Salerno and his familiar, the famous lute-singer Don Luigi Dentice. Dentice and Salerno were scheming with the French to liberate the kingdom of Naples from Spanish occupation and therefore motivated to promote arie in a picturesque dialect that for partisans, at least, signified Neapolitan autonomy. Since the arie surfaced first in Rome where Dentice (with his teenage son Fabrizio, a precocious improviser) was stationed to promote solidarity among Neapolitan fuorisciti, then the Dentices might be considered prime transmitters, if not creators, of songs conceived to carry a consoling message.41 A natural venue for the Dentices would have been an aristocratic salon receptive to improvisers and French partisans, which points toward the Guidobonos, whose commission brought the arie to light. (The likelihood that the Guidobonos were pro-French is increased by the family’s loyalty to Christine of Lorraine, whose “città dotale” was Tortona.42) Of all the hypotheses that could be advanced to explain the sudden appeal of high-pitched Neapolitan songs in Rome, the most compelling would be an intersection between Lasso (a tenor) and the Dentices (falsettists) in a salon devoted to the vernacular arts. Yet another explanation is offered by a theory of reception that postulates a direct, immediate relationship between “textual signals” and horizons of expectation in the experience of readers. During the 1550s their imaginations were bound to be affected by the escalating struggle between France and Spain, which generated rival factions in the Roman courts and 41

42

This argument is advanced in my article, “The Prince of Salerno and the Dynamics of Oral Transmission in Songs of Political Exile,” Acta musicologica, 67 (1995), pp. 77–108, including modern editions of the arie. On Christine’s relations with France and struggle to maintain control over Tortona, given to her upon her first marriage to Francesco Sforza II of Milan, see Simonsfeld, “Mailänder Briefe,” pp. 541–52. Francesco Guidobono became Christine’s captain of the guard in 1565, having forsaken an ecclesiastical career to marry. See Vittorio Spreti, “Guidobono Cavalchini Garofoli,” Enciclopedia storiconobiliare italiana (repr. Milan: Archetipografia di Milano, 1930), vol. 3, p. 643.

80

t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e

1550s

increased subversive actions in cadres of exiled Neapolitan noblemen. Canzoni saturated with Neapolitan dialect and parallel fifths would quite naturally provoke diverse and contrasting responses, depending upon one’s political inclination. Furthermore, the ravages and massacres committed by the Turks, then allies of the French, caused widespread consternation, and feverish preparations were made to fortify seaports throughout central and southern Italy. Nowhere was strategic planning to contain Ottoman advances more urgent than in Rome, where it was felt that the popes, as spiritual heads of the respublica christiana, should assume leadership for repulsing the infidels made fanatically loyal to Islam and the Sultan.43 With this background it is hardly surprising that Barrè would sense a developing market for canzoni moresche, which are musical parodies of Muslim slaves, and readily obtain patronal support for their printed debut in Rome: Secondo libro delle muse a tre voci canzoni moresche di diversi aut. novamente raccolte et poste in luce (1555). Barrè’s dedicatory letter to “Molto Mag. M. Francesco De La Mola” reveals that his patron was an amateur musician or at least interested in music: Knowing that among your Lordship’s virtuous activities, music is the most pleasing, and because these charming and beautiful canzoni moresche recently came my way by chance, never having been published, I wanted to bring them to light under your name so that you (together with your friends) might enjoy them.44

From Barrè’s salutation, we can surmise that his patron was an untitled member of the nobility, taking his name from the place where he resided or where his family held fiefs, that is, Mola, a seaport on the Adriatic in Terra di Bari. Mola was one of the few provincial cities in the kingdom of Naples with a musical academy, founded by Gasparro Toraldo, third marquis of Mola and Polignano.45 When he died impoverished in 1551, his 43

44

45

On the “Turkish peril” and its influence on the policies of the imperial powers, France, Spain, and the Ottoman Empire, see Charles L. Stinger, The Renaissance in Rome (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985), pp. 106–23. For the original dedication, see Luigi Werner, “Una rarità musicale della Biblioteca Vescovile di Szombathely,” Note d’archivio, 8 (1931), pp. 102–3. Barrè’s anthology is not listed in RISM. Scipione Ammirato, Delle famiglie nobili napoletane (Florence: G. Marescotti, 1580), vol. 2, p. 71.

81

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e lands (but not his title) were promptly sold to Giovan Francesco Carafa di Stigliano;46 however, in 1554 Polignano reverted to Gasparro’s wife Maria Piccolomini so that she could establish a dowry for her eldest daughter, Anna, betrothed to Carafa.47 Since no member of this branch of the Toraldo family living in 1555 bore the name Francesco, it is conceivable that Carafa – then holding the fief of Mola – was Barrè’s patron. Like many other persons named Giovan Francesco, he may have been familiarly known as Francesco. The continual presence of the formidable Ottoman fleet in the eastern Mediterranean presented a real threat to coastal towns such as Mola, and the ruling families – invigorated by Spanish power – stood ready to repulse the aggressors, as in 1555 when the Turks raided and plundered towns from Naples to Mola, reputedly carrying off more than 4,000 persons.48 Throughout the sixteenth century the struggle for supremacy of power led to a brisk trade in slaves on both sides.49 Moors, then broadly defined as Muslims or narrowly as inhabitants of the Barbary coast, often ended up as servants in noble households. In Rome, for example, they were valued as exotica, yet subject to perpetual servitude by their masters.50 Thus in Francesco De La Mola’s frame of reception, the performance of morescas could lead to vicarious reveling in the debasement of comic subjects as well as reinforcing feelings of superiority. Typically the opening gesture of a moresca sets the scene for a serenade and then continues with episodes of singing and dancing which, in context, would have been read as metaphors for love-making. Of the nine morescas in Barrè’s anthology, “Tiche toche” is by far the most clever in respect to musical and sexual puns (see Ex. 4.2). Like “Voria che tu cantas’ 46

47

48 49

50

Maria Luisa Capograssi, “Due secoli di successioni feudali registrati nei cedolari di Terra di Bari,” Rivista del Collegio Araldico, 54 (1956), p. 194. Pompeo Litta, Famiglie celebri italiane, 2nd series (Naples: Richter, 1911), s.v. “Toraldo di Napoli,” plate 3. Biblioteca Vaticana, Cod. Urb. Lat. 1038, fol. 76v (Avvisi di Roma, 13 July 1555). Significantly, in 1555 Barrè published a best-selling book about persecution of Christian slaves in the Ottoman Empire. See Steele, “Antonio Barré,” pp. 91–2. In Rome Capitoline officials could manumit baptised slaves who claimed sanctuary in their offices. But Roman nobles, in defiance of authority, still tried to hold them in servitude. In 1546 Paul III was successfully petitioned to decree that Romans could keep their slaves in perpetuity. Pio Pecchiai, Roma nel Cinquecento (Bologna: Licinio Cappelli, 1948), pp. 371–80.

82

t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e

1550s

c O= h 2 &4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ

V 24 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ

j ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

1

C

T

Ti- che to- che,

ti - che toch,

Ti- che to- che,

ti - che toch,

Ti- che to- che,

ti - che toch,

? 24 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

B

8

& œ mi

V

-

a,

A

mi - a,

-

œ.

-

A

-

A

œ

mi

-

œ.

œ #œ œ

?œ

j œ

œ.

œ

a,

pri

-

la mi -

-

la

Vœœ

pri

-

ti- che to- che,

ti - che toch,

ti - che toch.

ti- che to- che,

ti - che toch,

ti - che toch.

Gen -

3 V4 ˙

Gen -

?3 ˙ 4

pri

por - ta Car - ciof - fa - la

Gen -

A -

‰

œ

tu

-

a.

A - pri

voi

sen -

ta

mau -

œ

ti

-

3 ˙ 4

œ

˙

œ

œ

˙

hk = h 2 œ 4 ˙

˙ ˙

œ

Se

34 ˙

voi

sen -

b˙

ta

œ

mau -

b˙

œti

-

˙ a,

Se

voi

sen -

ta

mau -

ti

-

œ

˙

ni

-

b˙

-

ni

-

œ

˙

œ

gra

bo

can

œ

gra

œ

gra

˙

hk = h 2 4 ˙

œ

-

b˙

can

œ

-

bo

can

-

bo

ta

2 ˙ 4

-

ta 2 ˙ 4

-

ta

-

pres - sa, cu -

h = h. 3 4

˙

na

-

ta.

na

˙

-

ta.

na

-

ta.

2 ˙ 4 24

œ œ

pres - sa, cu -

b œ œ œ œ J pri - sa, cu œ bpres J œ œ œ

œ

tu - a.

œ œ œ

j œ œ

A - pri

Se

ni

te

a.

˙

te

œ

‰ œ

-

a,

˙

te

œ œ œ œ œ

tu

h = hk 3 4 ˙

œ œ

‰ œ

por - ta Car - ciof - fa - la

œ

O Pa - ta - le - na zo- ia

œ

bœ

œ œ

O Pa - ta - le - na zo- ia

œ œ œ œ ‰ œJ œ œ O Pa - ta - le - na zo- ia œ œ ‰ œJ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ

œ œ œ

œ

œ œ

22

3 &4 ˙

œ

œ J

mi - a,

la mi -

ti - che toch.

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ

œ

œ #œ ˙ J

? œ bœ œ

ti - che toch,

por - ta Car - ciof - fa - la

œ J

15

&œ œ œ

œ

ti- che to- che,

˙

3 4 34

˙

˙

œ

œ

œ œ œ

ta:

La

sol

fa re mi,

œ

œ œ

La

sol

fa re

˙

ta:

˙

ta:

œ

Œ ∑

Œ

œ

La

Example 4.2: Anon., “Tiche toche,” Li quattro libri delle villotte alla napolitana a tre voci de diversi eccellentissimi auttori con due moresche, nuovamente ristampati (Venice: G. Scotto, RISM 156511), pp. 75–6. First printed in Barrè’s anthology of 1555, of which only the bass is extant.

83

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e 29

& Œ V œ

œ

œ

[la

sol

œ

fa

[la

sol

Œ

mi,

? œ

œ œ

sol

fa

re

œ œ

œ

mi,

36

‰ œj

43

la.

Ni

‰ Jœ

Vœ

ut.

Ni

&˙ -

V˙ be

be

sol

œ

re

mi

fa

œ

œ œ œ

la

sol

œ

fa re mi,

la

sol

Œ

œ

re mi,]

la

sol

œ

œ œ œ fa

n'a

œ -

-

n'a

œ

n'a

‰ j œ Ut ∑

˙

œ

œ œ

la,

Ut

re

œ œ ˙

œ

fa re

∑

re mi,

mi,

‰ j œ œ œ œ mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa œ. œ œ œ œ ‰ œj œ œ J la, ut re fa sol la, sol la œ mi œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ J œ fa

sol

œ

œ

œ

œ

la,

ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che, ni

me,

2 ˙ 4

me,

2 ˙ 4

me,

Example 4.2: (cont.)

84

Œ

ut

re

mi

fa

sol

ut

3 h3= h k œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4Œ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che, ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che. Se œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 34 Œ Œ œ

c hk = h 2 œ 4 ˙

50

?˙

œ œ œ

∑

œ

Ni da gi - na - ca- che, ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che. œ maœ chiœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ J œ œ

fa.

?œ

be

mi,]

‰ j œ œ ut re œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ re mi fa sol la, j V‰ œ œ œ œ Ut re mi fa œ œ œ œ œ ?

&œ

re

Œ

&

fa sol la, ut

œ

Œ

œ

j œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ. Cac

œ.

-

œ.

-

Cac

-

Cac

cia

œ J

ca- p'a 'sa per - tu

œ -

sa,

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ J

ca- p'a 'sa per

œ œ œ œ œ

tu - sa,

cia

ca- p'a 'sa per - tu

-

cia

‰ œ

œ

sa,

‰

œ

mi

œ

sol

œ

voi

œ

tu

voi

Se

tu

voi

˙

œ

j œ œ œ œ œ

Sen - ti

‰

˙

œ sol

Se

3Œ Œ œ 4

ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che.

˙

tu

mi

œ

œ J

œ

bel- la can- ta -

œ œ œ œ

Sen - ti

œ J

bel- la can- ta -

Sen - ti

bel- la can- ta -

œ œ œ œ

t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e 57

&œ

œ

ra

-

œ

œ

œ

œ

œ

Ut

re

mi

fa

sol

la,

œ

ta:

œ

Vœ œ œ

œ

œ

œ

ra - ta:

Ut

re

mi

œ

Œ

?œ

œ

ra

-

œ

œ

œ

fa

sol

∑

la,

Œ

ta:

64

∑

& ˙

U - na, doi, e

V ˙

tre,

la.

U - na, doi, e

? ˙

tre,

ut.

U - na, doi, e

Mi

fa

La,

Fa,

œ œ œ œ œ

∑

œ

œ

œ œ œ œ œ

∑

œ

œ

œ

œ

œ

Mi

fa

sol

la

œ

œ

œ

œ

ut

re

mi

sol

œ

œ

fa

œ

ut

re

mi

fa

sol

‰ œj œ œ œ

Œ

j ‰ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ

mi.

Œ

1550s

la

œ

œ

sol,

fa

‰ œJ œ

tre,

Fa,

sol la,

œ œ œ

fa

mi

fa,

Fa, fa

œ

mi

sol

fa

sol fa,

re, re

la

œ œ

re,

œ #œ œ

Œ

sol,

‰œ œ œ œ J

œ

œ re

Œ

re,

71

&

œ

˙

Ut

∑

V ?

∑

j &‰ œ œ 78

V

re

Œ

‰ Jœ œ

la.

?Œ

∑

œ

œ

sol

la,

œ

œ

œ œ

Ut

œ

re

œ

mi

œ

mi

fa

sol

Œ œ

Ut

re

ca - lia

œ œ

œ œ

tau -

za

Ca - lia

tau -

za

œ

ut

‰ œj œ

œ

tau - za

Ca - lia œ œ ‰ J

Example 4.2: (cont.)

85

œ fa

œ

‰ œj œ

Ca- lia,

œ

œ

mi

ci - lum

œ ‰ J ci

‰ Jœ

œ œ J -

œ lum

ci - lum

œ œ

œ œ

œ

˙

fa

sol

la.

œ

œ œ œ œ

fa

œ

sol

la,

ut

re mi fa sol

la,

ut

re

mi

œ

re

mi

œ

œ

œ

j ‰œ œ œ ˙ ce - lum- di - ni.

œ œ. J

œ

œ

fa.

3 h = hk 3 œ . œj œ 4 Par - mi- ni,

œ J ˙

3 œ . Jœ œ 4

˙

3 œ. œ œ 4 J

ce - lum œ ‰ J œ.

-

di - ni.

ce - lum

-

di - ni.

œ J

Par - mi- ni,

Par - mi- ni,

d o n na g . c a r da m o n e

c j h k =2 h & œ. œ œ 4 œ.

4

85

par - mi- ni

œ. œ œ J

zor

? œ. œ œ J

2 œ. 4 zor . 2 œ 4

par - mi- ni

zor

V

par - mi- ni

j &‰ œ œ œ œ

j œ œ -

-

-

92

œ

Cu- la paz - zu - ta,

∑

V ?

∑

∑ ∑

fa - na

œ J fa œ J

œ -

ta,

œ

fa - na

-

la, ut re mi

fa

œ

mi

œ œ

ut

sol

œ ‰ œ œ J

∑

∑

‰ Jœ œ œ

∑

œ -

∑

œ ta:

ta:

Œ

œ ∑

Ut

∑

œ

Ut

œ

-

gna - ta,

œ

œ

œ sol

œ

œ

œ

mi

la,

ut

œ œ

œ

œ

Ut

re

mi

fa

sol

sol

œ fa

re

Œ

œ

fa

ta,

mi

˙

mi

-

re

Ut

re

ta,

œ œ œ

lic - ca pi - gna

œ ‰ j œ œ œ œ œ œ fa sol la, ut re mi fa œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ J re mi fa sol la, sol la œ œ œ œ œ ‰ Jœ œ la,

œ

lic - ca pi - gna

lic - ca pi

œ œ œ œ ‰œ œ J mu- sa cac - ca - ta: œ œ ‰ œJ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ la, ut re mi fa sol la, ut re œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Vœ fa sol la, ut re œ œ œ miœ faœ solœ la,œ ?œ œ

ta,

ta,

mu- sa cac - ca -

100

mu - sa -

∑

œ

j ‰œ œ œ œ

&œ

j ‰ œ œ œ

œ

na - ta,

mu- sa cac - ca -

re mi fa sol

Cia

œ #œ œ

-

j œ œ

‰ œ

ut

œ

U ˙

sol

la. U ˙

mi

œ

fa. U ˙

sol

ut.

œ

œ

Example 4.2: (cont.)

una canzona”(Ex. 4.1), it plays on the figurative meaning of “cantar la solfa” and quotes the motive “La sol fa re mi” with a solmization pun on the syllables, perhaps a humorous reference to Lasso.51

51

This motive was Fabrizio Dentice’s trademark and he frequently used it as the subject of ricercari. For examples, see Dinko Fabris, “Vita e opere di Fabrizio Dentice, nobile napoletano, compositore del secondo Cinquecento,” Studi musicali, 21 (1992), pp. 92–5. Lasso’s musical signature utilized the pitches “La sol” (Leuchtmann, Briefe, p. 197).

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t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e Tiche toche, tichi toch. O Patalena zoiaa mia, Apri porta Carcioffalab tua. Apri pressa, culac mia, Se voi senta mautinata. Gente nigra bo cantata: La sol fa re mi, Ut re mi fa sol la. Ni machida ginacache. Se tu voi ben a me, Cacciad cap’ a ‘sa pertusa, Senti bella cantarata: Ut re mi fa sol la, Mi fa sol la re mi. Una, doi, e tre, La, la sol la,e Fa, fa mi re, Ut re mi fa sol la. Calia tauza cilum celumdini. Parmini zorfanata,f cia musata, licca pignata,g Cula pazzuta, musa caccata: Ut re mi fa sol la.

1550s

Ticky tocky, ticky tock. Oh Patalena my joy, Open the door to your Carcioffala. Hurry up, open right now my rump, If you want to hear a morning song. The black man is going to sing: La sol fa re mi, Ut re mi fa sol la. [Moorish jargon] If you love me, Put your head to this hole, Listen to the nice singing: Ut re mi fa sol la, Mi fa sol la re mi. One, two, and three, La, la sol la, Fa, fa mi re, Ut re mi fa sol la. [Moorish jargon] Tell me about it in solfa, hungry mouth, glutton, Crazed ass, filthy mug: Ut re mi fa sol la.

a Venetian

dialect for gioia, an example of editorial intervention. an obsolete form of carciofo, metaphor for phallus. A figurative meaning in Neapolitan dialect is big, deformed nose. Carcioffala and Patalena (corpulent person) are affectionate nicknames. c Moorish slang for culo. d Metaphor for copulation. See Jean Toscan, Le carnaval du langage. Le lexique erotique des poètes de l’equivoque de Burchiello à Marino (XVe–XVIIe siècles) (Lille: Université de Lille, 1981), vol. 4, p. 1672. e These syllables are sung by the cantus; tenor and bass have different syllables corresponding to their pitches. f Neapolitan dialect for solmizing; another meaning is to repeat oneself continually (ibid., 1674). g Female pudenda, metaphorically (ibid., 1732). b Carciofolo,

Given casual patterns in the circulation of Neapolitan genres in Rome, it is safe to assume that Barrè collected copies of morescas by working circles previously inhabited by Lasso and his cohorts. Proof of

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d o n na g . c a r da m o n e Lasso’s direct access to the Roman repertory is found in his Libro de villanelle, moresche, et altre canzoni (RISM 1581g), which contains reworkings of six morescas in Barrè’s anthology. Lasso’s predilection for Neapolitan texts riddled with sexual puns is well known through his many reworkings of canzoni villanesche by Gian Domenico da Nola, a singer, poet, and composer from Naples. Both Nola and Lasso have been proposed as composers of the morescas in Barrè’s anthology, and there is some support for the notion that they met in Rome and launched the genre together. Nola cannot be traced in Naples between 1547 and 1563; however, his madrigals circulated in Rome where he probably fled for fear of being found guilty by association with leaders of the uprisings against Viceroy Toledo in 1547, among them Luigi Dentice.52 The re-use of textual phrases and musical motives in morescas collected in Rome attests to production by an intimate circle of poetcomposers practiced in intertextual allusion and citation. Indeed, attributing the morescas in this repertory to any one person is difficult because the style is remarkably uniform, suggesting group improvisation.53 Of all the Neapolitan genres, morescas are the most theatrical in content and design, being essentially miniature comic skits. Therefore, they are likely to have originated in artistic collectives comprised of musicians with a flair for comedic routines, bringing to mind Lasso (whose familiarity with the broad tradition of Italian comedy is well known) and the Dentices, who had doubled as singing actors in comedies staged at the Prince of Salerno’s palace. Had these compatible spirits met in Rome and formed an ad hoc troupe specializing in vivacious genres of Neapolitan entertainment, then they would have found in Nola the ideal person to stylize their improvisations in three-part arrangements for public consumption. This study concludes by coming around to where it began, on the axis between southern Italy and northern Europe, with an anthology of Barrè’s commissioned by Olivier Le Crec, ordinary nuncio in Rome for Henry II of France: Secondo libro delle muse a tre voci, Canzon villanesche alla napoli52

53

On Nola, the Dentices, and other musical refugees likely to have relocated in the Papal States after the uprisings, see my article, “Orlando di Lasso and ProFrench Factions in Rome,” pp. 38–41. “O Lucia miau miau” is attributed to Lasso in Il terzo libro delle villotte alla napoletana (Venice: Gardano, RISM 156014), p. 42.

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t h e s a l o n a s m a r k et p l ac e i n t h e

1550s

tana di nuovo raccolte e date in luce (RISM 155712). In the salutation, Barrè describes Le Crec as the Abbot of Jovis, a Cistercian monastery located at what is now Jouy le Chatel (Dept. Seine-et-Marne).54 Barrè may have known Le Crec before their paths crossed in Rome, since he was raised in Langres (Haute-Marne). Clearly he was aware of the distinguished clergyman’s taste in music: My most Reverend Signor, having collected some new villanelle in these hot days, I wanted to bring them to light for the amusement of virtuous persons, and knowing that beside your other talents how much you enjoy music, I wanted to dedicate and offer them to you so that you may entertain yourself with them some time and share them with your friends both here and at your Majesty’s court, where I understand similarly pleasing canzonette are valued for their charming and delightful qualities. Therefore, Your Excellency, deign to accept them together with my affection, and also make Monsignor of S. Martino enjoy them, so that even he, through Your Excellency, may count me among his admirers, in whose grace I pray that he may always hold me, promising that we will soon send him some others. And offering myself to Your Excellency and to him, I kiss your hands.

Although the Monsignor remains unidentified, he is likely to have been associated with St. Martin of Tours and a vital member of a clerical circle of collectors that included Jean du Moulin (d. 1563), canon and cantor at Sens Cathedral where Le Crec,too,was canon.At some point in their association, du Moulin gave Le Crec the manuscript now known as the Copenhagen Chansonnier, which confirms his interest in collecting music.55 It appears as if Le Crec was sent to Rome following the invasion of the Papal States by the Duke of Alba in August 1556, which influenced Henry II to decide in favor of an expedition to Naples. The community of Neapolitan exiles in Rome rallied around the Prince of Salerno and Duke François de Guise, both commanders in Henry’s army. That Le Crec and his associates in the French embassy would find canzoni in the rustic dialect of Naples, harmonized with parallel fifths, amusing in the “hot days” of summer 1557 54

55

Census-Catalogue of Manuscript Sources of Polyphonic Music 1400–1550 (Neuhausen: Hänssler-Verlag, 1979), vol. 1, p. 163. Knud Jeppesen, ed., Der Kopenhagener Chansonnier (Copenhagen: Levin & Munksgaard, 1927), p. xxvii. I am deeply grateful to Paula Higgins for drawing my attention to Le Crec’s ownership of the Copenhagen Chansonnier.

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d o n na g . c a r da m o n e is a clever allusion on Barrè’s part to a potentially mixed reception. Henry had come to doubt the promise of Guise’s expedition, and there were vast differences of opinion among all concerned persons in Rome, including the French diplomats present, about how to proceed.56 Enthusiasm for villanesche alla napolitana at Henry’s court was due in large part to the presence of Neapolitan exiles in the retinue of the Prince of Salerno, who had been extended a warm welcome by Queen Catherine de’ Medici.A captivating lutenist-singer, Salerno introduced Neapolitan songs to the French court in 1544 and upon returning, he carried on a politicized musical discourse centered on the pair of laments mentioned earlier. However, credit for spreading Neapolitan songs beyond the court to the clerical elite must be given to both Barrè and Le Crec. All the canzoni Barrè collected are anonymous, yet similar in metrical form and content to those in Guidobono’s book. Quite likely they emanated from the same circle of composers that formed around Lasso.57 Following the Treaty of Cateau Cambrésis in 1559, which resolved the conflict between France and Spain, the market for anthologies of Neapolitan songs dried up in Rome. The most logical explanation for this turn of events would be the breaking up of coteries sponsored by persons with a vested interest in Neapolitan genres, and the dispersal of exiles and their supporters who had mobilized the rustic idioms to reinforce dynastic claims. 56

57

Frederic J. Baumgartner, Henry II, King of France 1547–1559 (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1988), pp. 191–2. Le Crec’s book contains five canzoni that enumerate the physical attributes of courtesans, presumably resulting from group improvisation on a common theme: “O biancolella come gelsomino,” “O dolce più che l’uva moscatella,” “O faccia d’una luna rotondella,” “O dolce saporita cianciosella,” “O occhi manza mia cigli dorati” (reworked by Lasso, Libro di Villanelle, 1581).

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5

Lasso’s “Standomi un giorno” and the canzone in the mid-sixteenth century mary s. lewis

A new madrigal genre began to appear in Italian publications in the mid-1540s, consisting of settings of entire multi-stanza poems, some with as many as fourteen strophes. The genre came to be known collectively as the canzone, although other multi-stanza poetic forms such as the sestina and ottava rima were also set. The genre had its first flourishing in the 1540s, but continued in popularity throughout the end of the century. Here I will address some of the compositional problems and solutions resulting from the composers’ decision to write in such a large-scale form, concentrating on an early example of the genre by Lasso. In 1557 Antonio Barrè1 published his Secondo libro delle muse, a cinque voci, madrig. d’Orlando di Lassus con una canzone del Petrarca (RISM 155722=1557b), a collection devoted for the most part to works of Lasso not previously published. Leading off the collection was Lasso’s setting of the six stanzas of Petrarch’s “Standomi un giorno,”a visionary poem which had been set to music in its entirety only once before.2 By 1557 Lasso had already been away from Rome for at least two years. His music in Barrè’s anthology, while published in Rome, appears not to be directly connected to the composer’s sojourn there. In the volume’s dedicatory letter its signator, Giovanbattista Bruno, who styles himself “one who knows the author well,” stated that he had come into possession of the pieces by Lasso “many days 1

2

The orthography of the publisher’s name given here is the one he used himself. See Maureen E. Buja, “Antonio Barrè and Music Printing in Mid-Sixteenth Century Rome,” Ph.D. diss., University of North Carolina (1996). It seems probable that Matteo Rampollini’s setting predated Lasso’s, but see the discussion of its publication below. A setting for four voices of the first stanza was printed in 1543 in Gardano’s Secondo libro de li madrigali de diversi (RISM 154318), where it was attributed to Jan Gero. In two subsequent editions (154930 and 155219), Scotto attributed the work to Arcadelt.

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ma ry s . le w i s ago in Spoleto.”3 How the music came to be in Spoleto we are not told, but we must assume these pieces were composed by Lasso while he was still in Italy, perhaps in Naples, and left behind when he traveled north. Lasso’s “Standomi un giorno” was not the first multi-stanza madrigal that Barrè printed, and even those he published earlier had been preceded by examples in Venetian publications. Barrè’s Primo libro delle muse a quattro voci madrigali ariosi (RISM 155527) included his own setting of four stanzas from Ariosto, “Dunque fia ver dicea,” and his five-stanza madrigal on Francesco Bellano’s “Sorgi superbo,” as well as a three-stanza madrigal by Lupachino,“Occhi leggiadri amorosett’e gravi.”Another of Barrè’s publications of that year, the Primo libro delle muse a cinque voci (RISM 155526), is made up almost entirely of canzone, including works by Arcadelt, Ruffo, Jachet Berchem, and Barrè.4 Multi-movement madrigals had appeared sporadically during the 1540s. The earliest to be published was probably Jachet Berchem’s“A la dolc’ombra de la belle frondi,” included in Doni’s Dialogo of 1544 (RISM 154422). The participants in the Dialogo seem not to have been surprised to find an entire sestina set to music. There is no sense of novelty; conversation centers around some mistakes in the music.5 The singer who introduces the piece mentions that he found it in a book, but we do not know if the book was printed or in manuscript; no source for the piece survives from before 1544. However, the attitude of those present suggests that the composition of entire canzone had been taking place for at least a little while before 1544. Gardano first published multi-movement madrigals in 1547. One was a setting of “Io vo cangiar l’usato” by L’Hoste da Reggio in that composer’s Primo libro de madrigali a 4. The others are part of Animuccia’s Primo libro di madrigali a quatro a cinque & a sei voci (RISM A1241). An earlier origin has been claimed for the canzoni of Rampollini, which Moderne printed in an undated edition.6 Alfred Einstein suggested it was 3

4

5

6

The entire dedication and its translation are given in Buja, “Antonio Barrè,” pp. 311–13. [Ed. note: See also Donna Cardamone’s discussion on p. 75 above.] For complete contents and further information on these prints, see Buja, “Antonio Barrè,” pp. 202–9. Antonfrancesco Doni, Dialogo della Musica, ed. Virginia Fagotto (Venice: Fondazione Giorgio Cini, 1965), pp. 130–63. Il primo libro de la musica di M. Mattio Rampollini . . . sopra di alcune canzoni del divin poeta M. Francesco Petrarca. Lyons: Moderne, [n.d.] (RISM R215).

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l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone printedin1540or1541,7 butSamuelPoguehasgivenconvincingbibliographical and historical evidence to support a date of 1554 or later; Pogue chose the date 1560 based on a citation of the book by Poccianti in his Catalogus, published in Florence in 1589.8 Frank D’Accone, however, has argued for a date somewhere between Einstein’s and Pogue’s.9 If D’Accone is correct, then Rampollini’s setting of “Standomi un giorno,” included in Moderne’s collection,wouldhaveprecededLasso’s.Wedonotknowif LassoknewRampollini’s setting. The older composer set the work not in six movements as Lasso did, butinseven,devotingtheseventhmovementtothecommiato. Despite its early publication history in Venice, compositionally the canzone was not really a Venetian phenomenon. Rather, its chief practitioners before 1560 appear to have been composers who worked at some time in Florence or Rome,as well as a group of musicians active in theVeneto,several of whom had professional connections at one time or another with the academies of the area.10 Barrè, Animuccia, Arcadelt, Palestrina, Lupacchino, Ruffo, Rore, Nasco, Porta, and Portinaro are the most important of these.11 Berchem, the innovator, is more difficult to place as we know so little about his life, but he evidently spent some time in Venice and Verona around 1546. He may have been in Rome before then, but the evidence for such a stay is slight.12 While the canzone of Petrarch take pride of place among the multistanza texts these composers set, they were joined by the poetry of Ariosto, Sannazaro, Bembo, Tansillo, Cassola,Affani,Bellano, and Boccaccio.13 7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Alfred Einstein, The Italian Madrigal (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1949), p. 135. Samuel Pogue, Jacques Moderne: Lyons Music Printer of the Sixteenth Century, Travaux d’humanisme et renaissance 101 (Geneva: Librairie Droz, 1969), pp. 214–15. Frank A. D’Accone, “Matteo Rampollini and his Petrarchan Canzoni Cycles,” Musica Disciplina, 27 (1973), pp. 79–81. For a list of multi-movement madrigals published in Italy in the sixteenth century, see Patricia Ann Myers, “An Analytical Study of the Italian Cyclic Madrigals Published by Composers Working in Rome ca. 1540–1614,” Ph.D. diss., University of Illinois (1971), pp. 274–375. Other composers who wrote canzone during the forties and fifties include Fiesco, Dorati, Werrecore, Passetto, Boyleau, Fogliano, L’Hoste da Reggio, Martoretta, and Taglia. Dale Hall, “The Italian Secular Vocal Works of Jacquet Berchem,” Ph.D. diss., Ohio State University (1973), pp. 9–17. Myers, “An Analytical Study,” pp. 376–414, gives a list of Italian texts set as cyclical madrigals c. 1540–1614.

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ma ry s . le w i s We can only speculate as to the impetus for writing these large-scale works. Perhaps the academicians with whom the composers were associated objected to the practice of setting dismembered stanzas from larger poems. Perhaps the composers themselves felt limited by the small scale of the one- or two-part madrigal. And perhaps they wished to experiment with the problems of organizing music over a longer time span. Certainly a different approach to the music was required of both performers and listeners by these extended works. Producing a coherent setting of such long texts within the stylistic requirements of the madrigal posed a major compositional problem for composers. In the past, the principal multi-movement forms had been the mass and the Magnificat. Masses were, first of all, not intended for sequential, uninterrupted performance. Even so, in addition to being in the same mode throughout, they often used thematic unifying devices, such as a cantus firmus, a motto, or a polyphonic work to be imitated in some way. Magnificats usually were based on the Magnificat tones, which automatically bound the various movements together. The closest earlier relative of the multi-movement madrigal would probably be the motetti missales cycle of the fifteenth century, a genre that poses numerous historical and musical difficulties of its own. The multi-movement madrigal, however, had no thematic devices at its disposal. Its composers had to resort to other organizational means in building a large musical structure. Sometimes they used a varying number of voices, usually in a pattern such as 5–4–3–4–5, in which the texture thins towards the middle stanzas, and then thickens again as the end of the work approaches. At other times, contrasting mensurations, such as  and , or even triple meter, were employed, again in some sort of overall structural pattern. In “Standomi un giorno,” Lasso maintained a five-voice texture throughout, however, although from time to time in this work one or two voices may drop out, usually in response to the text. Likewise, he kept all six movements in  mensuration. Sometimes, the text and its musical expression could provide their own shape for a piece. This was particularly true in the sestina, with its pattern of recurring words at line endings, but affective shape could also be achieved at the stanza level, where contrasts of mood would be reflected in the musical setting. 94

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone Probably the most important structural tool available to composers of multi-movement works, however, was the musical and affective use of mode. The composer could work with modal traditions on both the general and local level. Employment of the modes and their aesthetic is both the most complex and the most intriguing aspect of the approach to large-scale musical structures in these pieces. In our investigation of Lasso’s canzone, we will study one example of the use both structurally and affectively of the modal pitch spectrum in these pieces. Petrarch wrote “Standomi un giorno” in the 1360s, long after the death of Laura. This strange and mystical poem presents six visions, each describing the destruction of a beautiful object, and ends with the despairing cry of the poet who wishes for his own death. In a typical Petrarchan paradox, each stanza produces a vision of beauty in the first half, and a vision of beauty’s destruction in the second. Thus, the recurring idea of metamorphosis, a central theme in Petrarch’s poetry, is given dramatic expression here.14 The six visions reflect recurrent emblematics in Petrarch’s poetry – a deer, a ship, a laurel tree, a fountain, a phoenix, and a beautiful lady. References both to Petrarch’s own poetry and to myth are abundant. Thus, the figure of Eurydice is evoked in the sixth stanza when the lady dies after being bitten by a snake, and the deer in the first stanza recalls the story of Actaeon. Robert Durling sees “Standomi” as a counterpart to no. 23 of the Canzoniere, “Nel dolce tempo de la prima etade,” the canzone in which Petrarch recounts the story of his love for Laura, “as reenactments of six Ovidian myths of metamorphosis.”15 In a highly complex set of references, the two poems represent both the lover and Laura as a laurel tree, the lover as Actaeon and Laura as a deer, Laura as a fountain of inspiration, and the lover as a fountain of tears.16 Stanza 1 1(1) Standomi un giorno solo a la fenestra, While one day at my window as I stood 1(2) onde cose vedea tante, et sí nove, Alone, I saw so many novel sights 1(3) ch’era sol di mirar quasi già stancho, That merely gazing almost wearied me: 14

Robert M. Durling, Petrarch’s Lyric Poems (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard 15 Ibid., p. 27. 16 Ibid., p. 32. University Press, 1976), p. 26.

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ma ry s . le w i s 1(4) una fera m’apparve de man destra, 1(5) 1(6) 1(7) 1(8) 1(9) (10) (11) (12)

At my right hand appeared a creature wild, con fronte humana, da far arder Giove, With human features that could Jove inflame; cacciata da duo veltri, un nero, un Two hounds pursued her – one was biancho; black, one white; che l’un et l’altro fiancho They tore first one flank, then de la fera gentil mordean sí forte, The other ravened till, in a short time, che ’n poco tempo la menaro al passo They brought that gentle beast to such a pass ove, chiusa in un sasso, That there, enclosed with stone, vinse molta bellezza acerba morte: Was beauty great by bitter death laid low, et mi fe’ sospirar sua dura sorte. Which left me sighing at its grievous fate.

Stanza 2 1(1) Indi per alto mar vidi una nave, 1(2) 1(3) 1(4) 1(5) 1(6) 1(7) 1(8) 1(9) (10) (11) (12)

Then on the high seas I beheld a ship con le sarte di seta, et d’òr la vela, With silken rigging and a sail of gold, tutta d’avorio e d’ebeno contesta; All framed of ivory and ebony; e ’l mar tranquillo, et l’aura era soave, The sea was tranquil, and the breeze was soft, e ’l ciel qual è se nulla nube il vela, As when heaven glows, veiled not by any cloud; ella carca di ricca merce honesta: Freighted she was with rich and virtuous goods; poi repente tempesta A sudden eastern storm oriental turbò sí l’aere et l’onde, Then cast into great tumult wind and waves, che la nave percosse ad uno scoglio. And so the vessel splintered on a reef. O che grave cordoglio! Oh, insupportable woe! Breve ora oppresse, et poco spatio Brief hour o’erwhelmed and little asconde, space concealed l’alte ricchezze a nul’altre seconde. Those noble riches, next in rank to none.

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l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone Stanza 3 1(1) In un boschetto novo, i rami santi 1(2) 1(3) 1(4) 1(5) 1(6) 1(7) 1(8) 1(9) (10) (11) (12)

In a new-planted grove, a laurel bloomed fiorian d’un lauro giovenetto et With hallowed limbs so young and schietto, pure, it seemed ch’un delli arbor’ parea di paradiso; A tree of those that grow in Paradise; et di sua ombra uscian sí dolci canti And from its shade there issued such sweet songs di vari augelli, et tant’altro diletto, Of divers birds, and other great delight, che dal mondo m’avean tutto diviso; That I was carried wholly from the world. et mirandol io fiso, While, marveling, I stared, cangiossi ’l cielo intorno, et tinto in The sky above was altered – vista, overcast; folgorando ’l percosse et da radice Flashing, it struck and by the roots at once quella pianta felice Tore up that happy plant, súbito svelse: onde mia vita è trista, And ever since, my life’s been full of woe, ché simile ombra mai non si racquista. For shade like that I’ll never find again.

Stanza 4 1(1) Chiara fontana in quel medesmo bosco 1(2) sorgea d’un sasso, et acque fresche et dolci 1(3) spargea, soavemente mormorando; 1(4) al bel seggio, riposto, ombroso et fosco, 1(5) né pastori appressavan né bifolci, 1(6) ma nimphe et muse a quel tenor cantando: 1(7) ivi m’assisi; et quando 1(8) piú dolcezza prendea di tal concento

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In that same wood a crystal fountain flowed Out of a stone, and waters cool and sweet Came gushing, murmuring delightfully; To that fair seat, hidden, shaded, and dark, No country folk nor shepherds ventured near, But nymphs and muses singing harmony; There I sat down; as I Most sweetness took from such a melody –

ma ry s . le w i s 1(9) et di tal vista, aprir vidi uno speco, (10) et portarsene seco (11) la fonte e ’l loco: ond’anchor doglia sento, (12) et sol de la memoria mi sgomento.

And from such a view – I saw a chasm yawn And borne away within The fountain and the place: still I feel pain; By that mere memory am I dismayed.

Stanza 5 1(1) Una strania fenice, ambe due l’ale 1(2) 1(3) 1(4) 1(5) 1(6) 1(7) 1(8) 1(9) (10) (11) (12)

Observing a rare phoenix in the woods di porpora vestita, e ’l capo d’oro, Alone and proud, with both her wings attired vedendo per la selva altera et sola, In purple, and in gold her head, I thought veder forma celeste ed immortale At first to view her heavenly, deathless form prima pensai, fin ch’a lo svelto alloro Till she to that uprooted laurel came giunse, ed al fonte che la terra invola: And to that fountain swallowed by the earth: ogni cosa al fin vola; All, in the end, takes flight. ché, mirando le frondi a terra sparse, For, seeing scattered leaves upon the ground, e ’l troncon rotto, et quel vivo humor The broken trunk, that living liquid secco, dry, volse in se stessa il becco, Upon herself her beak quasi sdegnando, e ’n un punto She turned as in disdain, and disparse: vanished all onde ’l cor di pietate et d’amor At once; whence love and pity sear m’arse. my heart.

Stanza 6 1(1) Alfin vid’io per entro i fiori et l’erba

At last amidst the grass and flowers I saw 1(2) pensosa ir sí leggiadra et bella donna, A pensive lady go, so graceful, fair, 1(3) che mai nol penso ch’i’ non arda et That just to think of her I burn and treme: quake: 1(4) humile in sé, ma ’ncontra Amor One humble in herself, against Love superba; proud;

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l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone And she was wearing such a flawless gown, sí texta, ch’oro et neve parea inseme; Woven to seem of gold and snow at once, ma le parti supreme But yet her crowning parts eran avolte d’una nebbia oscura: Were all enfolded in a mist obscure; punta poi nel tallon d’un picciol Then a small serpent pricked her angue, heel, and as come fior colto langue, A gathered flower wilts, lieta si dipartio, nonché secura. She passed not only certain, but in joy. Ahi, nulla, altro che pianto, al mondo Woe! Nothing, save for tears, in this dura! world lasts.

1(5) ed avea indosso sí candida gonna, 1(6) 1(7) 1(8) 1(9) (10) (11) (12)

Commiato (I) Canzon, tu puoi ben dire: (II) – Queste sei visioni al signor mio (III) àn fatto un dolce di morir desio. –

Song, you may surely say: All these six visions of my master Produced in him a sweet desire for death.17

The poem is a canzone with stanze divisi, the form of all but one of Petrarch’s canzoni. The six lines of each stanza’s fronte and the six of the sirima serve perfectly to express the paradox of life and death in each of the six stanzas. The rhyme scheme of each strophe is ABCABCcDEeDD.18 The poem ends with a commiato of three lines, addressed, as is so frequently the case in Petrarch’s verse, to the song itself. We will see that Lasso responded musically to the requirements of the poem’s form as well as to its symbolism and emotional impact. The style of Lasso’s setting is essentially that which James Haar has identified as belonging to the composer’s Roman, and even Neapolitan, 17

18

The text and its translation are taken from Petrarch’s Songbook: Rerum vulgarium fragmenta, a Verse Translation by James Wyatt Cook with Italian text by Gianfranco Contini (Binghamton, NY: Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, State University of New York, 1995). This version is quoted in the following discussion. The Italian text as it appears in SW is presumably the version Lasso knew. It sometimes differs in orthography and punctuation from the critical text established by Contini. In this scheme, capital letters stand for eleven-syllable lines, lower-case letters for seven-syllable lines.

99

m a ry s . le w i s years, before he left Italy for the Netherlands in 1554.19 The setting is for the most part line-by-line, with clear cadential demarcation of line endings, but Lasso carries the music forward whenever there is a continuation of meaning or syntax from the end of one line to the beginning of the next. Most strong cadences occur at the ends of poetic lines, though not all poetic lines end with strong cadences. There is very little of the fragmentation of the line into syntactic units that we can see in the Venetian style of the period. On the other hand, Lasso occasionally repeats a line, or a portion of a line, for emphasis. The texture is frequently chordal, with some rhythmic variety and a few brief melismas, mostly for expressive purposes. Text setting is generally syllabic, with melismatic writing found mainly at ornamented cadences. Within these general guidelines, Lasso seems to have employed what might be described as a declamatory, recitational style intensified by various affective elements. Thus, while the chordal texture, stretches of uniform note values, stepwise melodies with frequent repeated notes, and melodic reminiscences of recitational performance suggest the art of the improvvisatori, the music is imbued with affective devices such as sudden upward leaps greater than a third, chromaticism and crossrelations, colorful harmonies and harmonic juxtapositions, short melismas and expressively ornamented cadences, tone painting of various sorts, and imitation, all of which reflect the text. While the use of imitation in this work is restrained, Lasso employs two types. The first occurs at the beginnings of phrases, sometimes at the start of a stanza and sometimes to launch an internal phrase. The latter points are often incomplete and disguised, without the participation of all five voices and with contrapuntal writing in the other voices overlapping the imitative entrances (e.g. mm. 82–5; see Ex. 5.1). A second kind of imitation occurs in connection with text expression, and consists of short fragments of rhythmic imitation tossed about from one voice to another, as in the setting of the word “sospirar”in mm. 48–50 (see Ex. 5.2). Throughout the canzone, Lasso both respects and exploits the duality 19

James Haar, “The Early Madrigals of Lassus,” Revue Belge de Musicologie, 39–40 (1985–6), pp. 17–32. Space restrictions have limited me to only a few musical examples in this article. For a score of Lasso’s setting the reader is referred to SW or SW2, vol. 2, pp. 89–110. Measures are numbered consecutively through the entire madrigal rather than beginning anew in each parte as in SW2.

100

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone 82

˙ & ˙ œ œ œ œ ce'ho - ne

&

-

-

-

di

ric

? ˙ ˙

-

Ó

sta,

-

˙

˙.

sta,

El

˙

-

El

-

œ œ -

El

-

˙ ˙.

˙ œ œ œ œ

V ˙ ˙ ca

˙.

sta,

w

œ œ #˙ ˙ ˙

El

∑

mer- ce'ho - ne

Ó ˙

sta,

w

w ˙ ˙

ne

V

-

∑

∑

w

ca

mer

˙

˙

-

œ ˙ la car

-

la car - ca

˙

-

la car - ca

œ ˙ w

˙

w

la

di

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

ric

ca

mer - ce'ho - ne

car - ca

-

di

˙

ric - ca

œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ -

-

di

ce'ho - ne - sta,

ric - ca

˙ ˙ -

mer -

-

˙ #˙ ˙

di

w

mer- ce'ho - ne

ca

˙ w

Ó

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

di

ric - ca

w -

sta.

Example 5.1: Lasso, “Standomi un giorno,” mm. 82–5 48

4 &2 Œ ˙ so

4 & 2 #œ ˙ fe

so

4 ˙ V2 Œ V 24 ˙

so

œ ˙ -

Œ œ

spi - rar,

so

œ ˙ -

-

spi - rar,

œ

˙

spi - rar,

Œ ˙

fe

so

-

˙

˙

e

mi

fe

Œ œ

œ œ ˙

spi - rar,

˙

Œ ˙

mi

fe

so

spi - rar,

˙

œ ˙

? 24 ˙

-

-

so

œ

-

„

∑

œ œ ˙

˙.

so

˙

spi - rar,

spi - rar,

-

œ œ ˙

so - spi - rar

Œ ˙ œ ˙ spi - rar

Œ ˙

so

-

˙

w

sua

du

#œ a˙

so -

spi

˙ sua

-

rar,

˙

œ ˙

˙

spi - rar

sua

˙ -

ra

∑

Ó w

˙

du

w

-

ra

du

-

ra

˙

Example 5.2: Lasso, “Standomi un giorno,” mm. 48–50

of the poem’s contents and structure. At the end of the sixth line, the midpoint of the stanza and the point where, metaphorically speaking, light turns to darkness, there is always a clear cadence. Some of these are stronger than others, with suspensions and bass support, but all allow opportunity for a new musical and emotional impulse. Lasso uses the traditional hierarchy of modal cadential pitches, as cited by the theorists, to shape the music both structurally and affectively on a large scale from strophe to strophe, and within the course of each individual movement. The first, second, and last strophes turn to the final of the 101

m a ry s . le w i s mode for their closing cadences; in between, the stanzas cadence first on the most widely accepted alternative pitch, then on one less-often recommended as primary, and in stanza 5, on a pitch widely used for expressive irregular cadences in modes 3 and 4 – A-mi.20 Thus we see a pattern of final cadences: E–E–A–B/E–A-mi–E. Lasso appears to have constructed a basic tonal plan in which, at least as far as final cadences are concerned, the pitch structure begins and ends around the phrygian E, but wanders into the realm of the repercussion in the middle stanzas. In the theoretical literature of the time, both A and B have support as the second-most important cadential point in an E-mode piece. Theorists are generally agreed on a repercussion of B or C for mode 3, and A for mode 4; Lasso is extremely sparing in his use of B as a cadential pitch. The tonality of “Standomi un giorno”is somewhat ambiguous, a situation not unusual for E-mode pieces. The work’s range suggests mode 3, but Lasso’s treatment of A as the repercussion is strongly suggestive of the fourth mode. Throughout the work, Lasso makes careful use of commixtio modi and of cadences irregular to the mode for both structural and expressive purposes. As we have seen, not all stanzas close on E, for instance, and those that do, do not always end with the cadential motion in the traditionally strong canto–tenore pair. Thus, stanza 1 cadences on E, but in the alto and quinto (tenor 2), and stanza 2 employs the canto and quinto for its final E cadence. The third stanza has the strongest final cadence up to that point, employing the canto and tenore with bass support, but on the repercussion A rather than on E. In stanza 4, Lasso brings the canto and quinto to a cadential octave on B, but with e in the basso (reached by an upward fifth from A to e). Stanza 5 closes with the tenore and basso sounding an A-phrygian cadence, though a cadence on E between alto and basso is heard two measures earlier (mm. 258–9). Finally, the last movement cadences on E in m. 342 in the alto and tenore, and closes on a weak E cadence in m. 344.

20

For affective use of the A-mi cadence see Bernhard Meier, The Modes of Classical Vocal Polyphony Described According to the Sources, trans. Ellen S. Beebe (New York: Broude, 1988), pp. 259–79. In the following discussion capital letters usually refer to a pitch class in general, while lower case letters (e, e⬘) refer to specific octaves.

102

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone Viewing the structure of the poem, the first two stanzas appear to belong together, portraying the visions seen from the poet’s window. The next three stanzas depict visions of a laurel tree, a fountain, and a phoenix in a magical grove, while the sixth stanza focuses away from the grove toward the “lady . . . so graceful, fair” who is now revealed as the true object of the entire poem. Lasso’s tonal plan would seem to fit with such a reading, with the stanzas that close more or less firmly on E belonging to the opening pair of visions and to the last one, though the last cadence is weakened somewhat, perhaps in response to the poet’s unfulfilled longing for death. The three stanzas describing visions seen in the grove then have finals on A, B/E, and A-mi. Most of the cadences in this canzone, both final and internal, fall on pitches recommended as cadential points within the mode by one theorist or another, although the theorists are far from unanimous as to what those pitches should be. Zarlino recommends e, g, and b. Pontio calls for primary cadences on e and a, with g and b per transito, and c⬘ come propera. Dressler lists e, b, and c⬘ as primary cadence points, and g and a as secondary. Both Lusitano and Montanus name e and c⬘, with Montanus adding a.21 No theorist cites d⬘ as a cadential pitch for mode 3, and we shall see that Lasso frequently cadences on that pitch at moments of affective significance. Only Aaron lists D as a regular cadential pitch for mode 4, and then only d, not d⬘. Most cadences, then, fall on modally “acceptable” pitches – E, A, G, and C – with moves to D and A-mi reserved for such affectively significant words as “asconde,”“trista,”“treme,” and “oscura.” Such usage has a cumulative effect throughout the piece, as irregular cadences repeatedly underscore words of deep emotional significance against a background of modal unity emphasized by the tensions of the final cadential pitches of the stanzas. Thus, the young Lasso worked within a structural-affective pitch hierarchy that skilfully blends the familiar traditions of modal pitch significance with madrigalian text expression. In the following section, I will present a more detailed discussion of some of the strategies Lasso used in setting Petrarch’s canzone.

21

Ibid., pp. 105–16.

103

ma ry s . le w i s

Stanza 1 Table 5.1 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 1 Line

Measure

Voices

Pitch

21 2

23 27 11 15 18(–20) 24 26 28 31 33 37 39 42 46–7 51 55

AQ CT TQ AQ AT TQ AB CA AQ AB AB CT TB CQ AB AQ

E D! “fenestra/giorno” A D! “nove” C C A/D! “humana” A C E G A G G/C E E/A, then E

22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 10 11 12

Comments

The stage is set – with the poet standing alone at a window – for the appearance of strange and new things. The first vision: an animal (a deer) with a beautiful human face appears, pursued by two hounds, one black and one white, who trap it in a rocky pass and kill it. The poet sighs at the animal’s harsh fate. The E-mode tonality is established in the quinto and then the alto and canto, through the statement of a rising line starting with an e–a leap which then works its way upward with successive pitch goals of b, c⬘, and d⬘ (mm. 3–6), thus outlining the upper range of the authentic mode. As we can see from Table 5.1, Lasso cadences primarily on A (five cadences) and C (four). Four cadences, including the first and last, fall on E, and there are three on D and G. The D cadences are reserved for special moments. The first occurs in mm. 6–7 on the words “giorno”and “fenestra,” as Lasso repeats the opening motive a fourth higher. This early move into modally foreign territory ushers the listener into the visionary world seen from the window.22 22

In all of the tables ! denotes an irregular cadence in the mode.

104

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone The role of the D cadence in pointing to that visionary world is reiterated in m. 15 in the quinto and basso on the word “nove” (novel). Finally, at one of the more dramatic moments in the stanza (m. 26), as it is revealed that the beast has a human face, on the word “humana” an expected A cadence is diverted to one on D by way of an E major to D major chord progression. Throughout the work, Lasso uses such motion of major triads a whole step apart to underscore important moments. If we consider the strongest cadences in the stanza, most of which are at the ends of lines, we find the following series: D–A C–C–A–C G–A–G–E. The D–A section corresponds to the opening phrases of the text, those that set the scene. The section emphasizing C and A corresponds to the description of the beast,while the G–A–G–E section describes the beast’s death and poet’s sorrow. The passage from the world of reality to that of visions takes place by way of a modally unsettling passage that moves through a downward circle of fifths as the viewer’s gaze moves through the window to see so many strange things. The passage begins in m. 11 with a cadence on A. By m. 15 the cadence on D discussed above has been reached; it is followed in the next measure by one on G. Then, in m. 18 the alto, tenore, and basso have a transitory cadence on C that is followed by a plagal one (mm. 19–20) also on C. In that cadence, all five voices come together on long notes on the word “stancho,” ending together at the close of the third line. By this time, all sense of E-mode has been erased, and the music works in an area closer to A and C until it cadences on G at the close of line 8 in m. 37. Beginning in m. 37, the trapping and death of the beast are described, as the music moves through a series of cadences on G, A, G, A, and finally, when the speaker expresses his sorrow, back to a final cadence on E with a cadential coda. The final cadence is a phrygian one on E in the alto and quinto (m. 55), but sounded within an A minor triad. The harmonic language gradually settles towards a clearer statement of E in the coda, but without another strong cadence. Thus, the hearer is left with a sense of anticipation rather than one of closure.

105

ma ry s . le w i s

Stanza 2 Table 5.2 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 2 Line

Measure

Voices

Pitch

21

261 263 267 271 273 276 279 280 285 287 288 291 294 297 299 107 109

CA QB CQ TQ AB TQ AQ SQ ST SQ ST AQ TB QB AT SQ SQ

A E A C G D/G A A A A-mi! G E/A G A/E D! A E

22 23 24 25 26

27–8 29 10 11 12

Comments

interrupted

“honesta”

“asconde” with coda

The second strophe of the poem describes a vision of a boat with golden sails that is shattered against the rocks in a sudden storm. The opening point of imitation includes a strikingly affective upward leap of a sixth in all voices on the word “alto.” Lasso points immediately here to the focus on A that is one of the marks of the pitch structure of this stanza.An A cadence in m. 61 is balanced two measures later, however, with one on E in the quinto and basso. This second cadence lacks both the suspension treatment and the lower-voice support of the first. At the end of line 2 (mm. 66–7) Lasso introduces another strong cadence on A, on the word “vela.” As the poet marvels in line 3 at the ivory and ebony decorations on the boat, Lasso moves further afield to an equally strong cadence on C on the word “contesta,” ending the first part of the fronte there. Lasso cuts the fourth line in half (“E ’l mar tranquillo”) with a grand pause after the word “tranquillo” and a cadence on D that can also be interpreted as an interrupted cadence on G. The effect undermines the sense of 106

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone tranquillity that has just been introduced by the long notes on “tranquillo.” Tension is continued as line 4 ends without a real cadence. The succeeding line, which states a new thought – “Freighted she was with rich and virtuous goods” – is heard not once but twice. Only the second statement, however, closes with a cadence, in this case a phrygian cadence on A that hints of the drama soon to come. The description of the tempest in lines 7 and 8 is recitational yet polyphonic in style, set syllabically with frequent repeated notes. The effect is one of straightforward narrative, almost devoid of emotion, its only affective characteristic being the quickening of note values and the crossrelations (F–F  and C–C ) on “percosse ad uno” (m. 93). Line 10, however, brings a dramatic change. Lasso sets the words “Oh, insupportable woe”to a descending series of long notes, starkly contrasting in mood and rhythmic motion to the description of the storm that came before. The phrase ends with a double cadence, first to A and then plagally to E (mm. 94–7), thus extending the A–E tension of the strophe. The narrative style returns briefly for line 11 as do several crossrelations and unusual pitch juxtapositions – F–F , C–C , C –B  (mm. 98–9), as the phrase ends on a D cadence on “asconde.” This is the only cadence in the second half of the strophe with both lower-voice support and suspension treatment, and its emphasis underscores the poet’s horror at the destruction of a thing of such beauty. The final line of the stanza completes the thought begun in line 11, but Lasso sets it at the start with the descending tetrachord of grief (mm. 98–102), which is echoed in various permutations in the other voices, until the superius closes with an octave descent in long notes to the E final (mm. 105–9), with a phrygian cadence in mm. 108–9 and a brief coda in which the other voices finish out their descents. Tonally, this stanza, like the first, seems to correspond to the two halves of the strophe. The principal cadences in the first half emphasize A and are on A–E–A–C–A–A–A-mi, while those in the second half are on G–E–G–E–D–A–E. The second half, besides introducing cadences on G and D, also places more emphasis on the final, E. However, the A–E dichotomy that forms a structural device in the entire work and that mirrors the paradoxes of the poem itself has been skilfully introduced here. 107

m a ry s . le w i s

Stanza 3 Table 5.3 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 3 Line

Measure

Voices

Pitch

21 22 23 24 25

114 117 123 127 131 135 138 141 144 146 146 149 151 154 156 158 161

AQ CQ QB ST AB CQ TB AQ CB CQ AT TQ AB CA TQ CQ ST

G A G B/E D! A C G G A-mi/D! D! E A-mi! G C B/E A

26 27 28 29 10 10 11 12

Comments

“vari’uccelli”

(no leading tone) then to A, “radice” “radice quella”; enjambment “felice” then to E in m. 152; “trista”

In the third stanza, Petrarch moves in his visions from the elevated location of his window, looking out over the sea and the hunt, to a woodsy setting. There he sees a laurel tree “of those that grow in Paradise,” and whose unhappy end is the result of a lightning bolt and storm. Lasso begins the strophe in narrative style with the first really strong cadence at the end of line 2, on A (m. 117). The style has by now become more affective as the poet contemplates the scene before him. The ecstatic emotion of the lover as he listens to the songs of the birds inspires the composer to move beyond the mode to a pair of cadences on D (mm. 128 and 130–1). Thus we see that Lasso uses D cadences in this work to express both positive and negative strong emotions. Following a strong cadence on A in m. 135, the sixth line describes the lover’s transport into another world as the music moves to a new cadence point on C (m. 138), ending the fronte there, as in stanza 1. At the end of line 9 (mm. 145–6), on the word “radice,” Lasso introduces a phrygian cadence on A, but avoids a cadence at the very end of the line by using the motion of a D cadence to bridge the two lines between the 108

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone words “radice” and “quella” (mm. 146–7). Slightly more definition is given to the cadence on E at the end of line 10 (mm. 148–9), but such definition can be seen as appropriate since immediately afterwards four of the voices declaim the word “subito”together, launching the passage in which the poet declares that his life is sorrow. On the word “trista” we hear another phrygian cadence on A (m. 151), this one ornamented to underscore the word, which moves immediately to a cadence in all four sounding voices on E to end the line (m. 152).23 After the words “subito svelse” the canto drops out (mm. 150–2), leaving the four lower voices to express the observer’s grief. Lasso repeats the text after a cadence on G (m. 154), closing on a strong, ornamented cadence on A without a coda. Here, at the poem’s midpoint, Lasso has avoided the E final altogether.

Stanza 4 Table 5.4 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 4 Line

Measure

Voices

Pitch

Comments

21 22 23

166 169 172 175 178 182 186 188–9 192 195 199 200 204 208 216

TQ AB AQ SB TB AB TB CQ TB CQ AT ST QB CQ CQ

D! E/A C G C G C E/A C B C E A-mi! G/E, then C B/E

“bosco”

24 25 26 28 29 10 11 12

23

“concento” “seco” “sento” “sgomento”

One could argue that the melodic configuration in m. 151 is not a true cadence, since it occurs within a word. Nevertheless, the vocal lines move in a strongly delineated cadential pattern through A-mi on the way to the E cadence in m. 152.

109

m a ry s . le w i s Still in the grove where the laurel tree grew, the poet now sees a fountain that further enhances the beauty of the secluded place. But yet again disaster strikes, as a chasm opens and swallows up both the fountain and the grove, restoring the poet’s grief. The setting opens in narrative style. Affective elements are soon introduced, however, in the form of a C–C  cross-relation between alto and canto in mm. 163–4, and a cadence on D at the end of the first line, on the word “bosco” – a note of foreboding, perhaps, that yet another calamity lurks behind this peaceful scene. The D cadence, however, is immediately supplanted by one on G which bridges the two lines and their enjambment (mm. 165–6). A cadence on A in m. 167 on “sasso” is followed by a drawn-out ornamented double cadence on E and A on the word “dolci” (mm. 168–70). The second half of this cadence, on A, however, is also used to bridge the enjambment to the next line (“waters cool and sweet / Came gushing, murmuring delightfully”). An evaded cadence on C closes line 3. We see here in the beginning of the strophe a tendency to deflect importance away from cadences on the final, E, and to emphasize A as well as modally irregular tones. Cadences on C and G in line 4 further move the tonal palette away from E and into other modal territory. The sirima begins peacefully enough (“There I sat down; as I / Most sweetness took from such a melody – / And from such a view”). Lasso sets these words in a primarily syllabic polyphony, but cadences most unusually on a B on the word “concento” (mm. 194–5). The quintus and bassus initiate the description (mm. 196–8) of the opening of the chasm (“aprir vidi uno speco”). The narrative style is then invoked, with syllabic and homophonic declaration, “e portarsene seco” (m. 199). The four declaiming voices cadence on E almost simultaneously (mm. 199–200), and dramatic rests in the canto and alto leave the listener balanced, as it were, on the edge of the chasm, while at the same time the music carries across the enjambment with the beginning of line 11 to tell us that both “the fountain and the place” have been carried away. The chilling news is greeted by silence in all voices in m. 201, before the four lower voices intone, “still I feel pain,” closing with a long, drawn-out phrygian cadence on A in mm. 203–4 on the word “sento.” This cadence is the first modally irregular one we have heard since the D cadence at the beginning of the stanza, unless we count the cadence on B in m. 195, a pitch that Lasso has so far avoided treating as a repercussion or even a common cadential pitch. 110

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone Lasso ends the strophe ambiguously as canto and quinto form a phrygian cadence on B that is supported by an A–E leap of a fifth in the basso (mm. 215–17). Thus, while the final triad is E major, the canto and quinto have suggested B as the cadential pitch instead, perhaps recalling the B cadence on “concento” in m. 195 in the same voices, as the harmony of that moment has indeed been transformed into fear.

Stanza 5 Table 5.5 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 5 Line

Measure

Voices

Pitch

21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 10 11 12

223 227 231 235 238 240 243 245 247 249 251 256 258 261

AB AQ TB CT AT CT (C)Q ST (A)Q CA ST AT AQ TB

E C C A B/E D!/G B/E E/A G D! G C A-mi! (through ficta)/D! A-mi!

Comments

Cadence formed 6–8/2–1

“becco”

“d’amor m’arse”

The next vision is of a phoenix who vanishes after viewing the destruction of the laurel and the fountain. The imitative and affective opening makes use of wide leaps to introduce us to the appearance of the phoenix. In line 3, at the words “vedendo per la selva,” Lasso introduces a chromatic passage – undoubtedly inspired by Petrarch’s choice of “selva”now instead of “bosco” – in which we find an E major and D major triad juxtaposed (m. 228), followed by a B  in the tenore, a C  in the quinto, and an F  in the canto (mm. 228–9). In line 9, the canto’s statement of “rotto” is emphasized by an F–F  cross-relation between the canto and alto. Only the three upper voices sing the text of line 10 – “upon herself her beak she turned.” In this short phrase (less than two measures) Lasso varies the rhythmic motion, and introduces 111

ma ry s . le w i s within a few beats of each other the chromatic tones B , C , and F  (mm. 248–9). Perhaps we could read such a passage as an example of the mode, like the phoenix, turning against itself. A startling contrast ensues between the patter-like minims of line 11, which illustrate the speed with which the phoenix vanished, and the slow, descending opening of line 12. The final line of the stanza is first intoned in long notes in the four upper voices (“onde ‘l cor”); that brief phrase is set apart by a cadence on G in m. 253 before the gradually intensifying setting of the rest of the line – “di pietate et d’amor m’arse.”Lasso repeats the words of the last line, leading up to a cadence on A which is followed by a coda that ends with a pathetic cadence on A-mi.

Stanza 6 Table 5.6 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 6 Line 1 2 3 4 5–6 7 8 9 10–11 12

I II III

Measure

Voices

Pitch

268 274 276 277 283 292 294 297 301 309 315 321 322 324 326 331 334 338 342

CQ QB AQ TB AT CT CT CA AQ CQ TB CA AT AB CB QB CA AQ AT

A G E A-mi! G A G D! G G A-mi! A D! G A-mi! C D! C E/A, then E

Comments

“treme”

“oscura”

“dura” “dura” “dire” “desio”

Stanza 6 presents the final, climactic vision of Petrarch’s apocalyptic poem. We readily recognize Laura as the “bella donna” of this vision. Like 112

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone Eurydice, this beautiful lady is taken from life by the bite of a snake, and follows the deer, the ship, the laurel tree, the fountain, and the phoenix into oblivion, leaving the poet with “nothing, save for tears.” In the commiato, Petrarch addresses the poem itself, stating that the six visions have made him also wish for death. Lasso’s setting begins solemnly, and with a cross-relation G–G  between basso and canto on “fin.” In line 2 – “[I saw] a pensive lady go, so graceful, fair” – we hear first a D major to C major triad juxtaposition and then a brief melisma, both pointing up the words “leggiadra et bella.” There is no overlap with the beginning of line 3 – “That just to think of her I burn and quake.” The note values gradually increase to mirror the trembling of the text as “ch’i’ non arda et treme” is repeated, with a biting C–C  cross-relation and C –B  juxtaposition in m. 277. The line closes on an A-phrygian cadence, stressing the emotional intensity of the moment. The first brief phrase of line 4 ends with a cadence on E, the second with a phrygian cadence on A, at the repeat of the text “humile in sé,” while the fronte ends with a clear cadence on A (m. 292). The short span of line 8 is marked first by a C–C  cross-relation in m. 292, and a more agitated, scattered dotted-rhythm texture as the five voices all intone the changing mood at different times. Line 8 completes the ominous thought begun in line 7 – “But yet her crowning parts / Were all enfolded in a mist obscure.”Lasso continues through this line (mm. 293–7) in a markedly affective style; upward leaps are followed by long descents, and the phrase closes with a modally irregular cadence on D on the word “oscura.” At the beginning of line 12, first the upper four voices, and then all five, join in a deeply affective statement – “Woe! Nothing, save for tears, in this world lasts.” The use of irregular cadences now increases. The passage begins with a homophonic exclamation of “Ahi” on an F major chord, in startling juxtaposition to the G major chord that ended the previous phrase. The music continues to a B  chord – B  having been heard throughout the piece in phrygian relationship to A – and the phrase is liberally sprinkled with B s as it passes through a modally irregular cadence formation on D in m. 314 on its way to a phrygian cadence on A. Here, Lasso brings together, at the emotional climax of the piece, pitches that have served affective goals all along – the B  of the A-mi cadences, an A-mi 113

m a ry s . le w i s cadence itself, the C  so often used in cross-relations, and a hint at a modally irregular D cadence. The text is repeated, with greater intensity, as the music moves toward the sharp side, introducing a G  in the canto’s slow descending line (m. 316). Here Lasso turns to the language of the madrigal lament, with outcries, chromaticism, octave leaps (tenor m. 315), and thoroughly polyphonic texture. There are abrupt minim melismas on the words “mondo”and “dura,”leading to a cadence on A followed by an irregular one on D which overlaps the beginning of the commiato. In the commiato, Petrarch addresses his own song. “Song, you may surely say: / All these six visions of my master have / Produced in him a sweet desire for death.” Here the poem reaches new pathos. The music, launched from the irregular D cadence in m. 322, sings the first line twice (mm. 321–7). The first statement closes simply on a G cadence (m. 324); the second, moving into a higher range and dropping the basso, increases in intensity and introduces a B  in the canto (m. 325) which is repeated in the quinto as part of the phrygian A cadence in m. 326. That cadence is extended to an implied D cadence in m. 327, just as the basso rejoins the other voices at the beginning of the commiato’s second line, the first part of the quotation. In m. 333 B  is heard, but this time the cadence is another modally irregular one on D (m. 334). The full text of the line is sung three times, with additional repeats of the phrase “di morir desio” to the end of the piece. B  continues to be heard as the canto falls silent in mm.335–7. The third statement of the line introduces a brief but expressive melisma after an upward leap in the canto on the word “morir” (m. 339). That melisma is followed by a weak G cadence (m. 341) and then a stronger one on E that essentially acts as the final cadence of the work. Three measures of coda follow, repeating the last phrase and ending on an E major triad (a traditional two-voice cadence having appeared in m. 342 in the alto and tenore). Stanza 6 ends in much the same way that stanza 1 did, with a similar harmonic framework and the same tentative, expectant unwinding in the coda and with the same G  in the superius of the last chord. To summarize, then, Lasso maintains a consistent tonal plan throughout the six strophes of the canzone, a tonal plan that unifies the work both structurally and expressively. Tension between the final, E, and the secondary cadential pitch A is introduced early in the work and underlies the structure. This can be seen in the use of these two pitches for final 114

l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone cadences in the various strophes, in the scheme E–E–A–B/E–A-mi–E. The relationship of pitch structure to text is evident in the fact that the first two stanzas, which end on E, deal with visions from the window, and the next three, ending on A, B/E, and A-mi, are concerned with events in the grove, while the last stanza, which ends on E, turns to a vision of Laura. The A–E tension is intensified by the frequent introduction of phrygian cadences on A. The importance of the B  of the A-mi cadence is stressed by its use at particularly intense moments, as in its appearance as the root of a triad when the poet cries out that nothing in the world lasts except our tears (m. 311). Within the frame of stanzas 1 and 2, and then 6, with their E endings, Lasso placed two strophes, 3 and 5, with endings on A and A-mi, and between those, stanza 4 whose ambiguous E–B final cadence reinforces our uncertainty about the actual modal identity of the work – modes 3 or 4. Throughout the entire work, Lasso makes telling use of cadences irregular to the mode, especially those on D, of major triads whose roots lie a whole step apart, and of cross-relations, especially involving C and C , to underscore semantically significant words and phrases. Thus, these pitch configurations become encoded in the listener’s ear to correspond to the dark side of the canzone. Lasso clearly perceived all six stanzas as being in a mode 3/4 tonal matrix. Indeed, it is the overall E-mode foundation that permits the play of irregular pitches against it to make an affective impact. He appears to have viewed the work as a large unity with six “movements,”bound together now by modal treatment and expressive devices, rather than by any kind of melodic or motivic unifying device. Only further study of the multi-movement madrigal repertory will reveal whether other composers adopted the same approach. That endeavor is beyond the scope of this study, which should none the less help us to understand the compositional solutions adopted by sixteenthcentury composers in writing these large-scale works.

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6

Lasso’s “Fertur in conviviis”: on the history of its text and transmission bernhold schmid

The Oxford contratenor partbook of the Meslanges d’Orlande de Lassus1 contains deletions in the texts of several pieces. In a few cases, though not always, the canceled words are replaced by others in a contemporary hand. This is true in “Fertur in conviviis,”a piece whose text was also replaced by a contrafactum in a number of other sources. In the Oxford source a passage in the fourth strophe,“. . . Angelorum chori, / Deus . . .,”was changed to “. . . Bacchantium chori, / Bacchus. . . .” The question arises whether this can be traced to an existent source, so that a previous version of the text served as a model, or whether the scribe introduced his own variants. In order to provide an answer the following discussion provides an edition of the original text with indication of all known variants in the existent printed sources,2 which are then considered in relation to the manuscript alterations in Oxford. To begin, the sources for the original text, grouped according to related editions, are listed in Table 6.1.3 The table shows that the piece with its original text was included both in chanson and motet prints. French chanson prints in particular regularly include pieces with Latin texts, so 1 2

3

Paris: Le Roy and Ballard, RISM 1576i; Bodleian Library, Douce L subt.29. The only known manuscript source (Ulm, Sammlung Schermar, Ms. Mus. without shelf mark, c. 1590; see Boetticher, Lasso, p. 835) will not be considered. The composition is printed in SW, vol. 3, p. 99. Regarding the Septiesme livre of 1564, see Henri Vanhulst, Catalogue des éditions de musique publiées à Louvain par Pierre Phalèse et ses fils 1545–1578 (Brussels: Académie Royale de Belgique, Classe des beaux-arts, 1990), pp. 114–16. The Septiesme livre appeared in a large number of editions over a long period of time (see Henri Vanhulst, “Un succès de l’édition musicale: Le Septiesme livre des chansons a quatre parties [1560–1661/3],” Revue Belge de Musicologie, 32–3 [1978–9], pp. 97–120), but only the edition of 1564 contains pieces by Lasso.

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Table 6.1 Sources for the original text of “Fertur in conviviis” Sigla used in this study

RISM sigla and number in the print

Brief title

A

1564d, no. 9

B

RISM deest, 1564, no. 38

C1

15658, no. 1

C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 D

15679, no. 1 157011, no. 1 157311, no. 1 157510, no. 1 15791, no. 1 15843, no. 1 15915, no. 1 RISM deest, 1599, no. 1 15698, no. 7

E1 E2 E3 F1

1570d, no. 39 1576i, no. 57 1586g, no. 50 1579b, no. 67

F2

1587f, no. 67

Quatriesme livre des chansons, Phalèse (in both reprints, 1567c and 1570g, “Fertur in conviviis” is not included). Septiesme livre des chansons, Phalèse (in all later editions “Fertur in conviviis” is not included). Sesieme livre de chansons, Le Roy & Ballard (“Fertur in conviviis” is included in all later editions). Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B Sesieme livre de chansons, Ballard Liber secundus sacrarum cantionum, Phalèse (the only known edition) Mellange d’Orlande de Lassus, LR&B Meslanges d’Orlande de Lassus, LR&B Meslanges de la musique d’Orlande de Lassus, LR&B Altera pars selectissimarum cantionum, Gerlach (“Fertur in conviviis” is not included in the first edition, 1568b) Altera pars selectiss. cant., Gerlach

bernhold schmid that an unequivocal distinction of genres is not possible on the basis of the prints.4 The limited resonance in Phalèse’s output is striking; to be sure, he published the piece in three different prints, with chansons as well as motets, but he excluded it from the later editions of his Quatriesme livre and Septiesme livre, perhaps because he had taken it up in a motet book (D). Le Roy and Ballard on the other hand printed “Fertur in conviviis” exclusively in chanson books. The text follows the version of C1, which is the most widespread, with orthography normalized.5 In source B, Phalèse’s 1564 Septiesme livre of chansons, of which only the contratenor survives as a unicum in the Bibliothèque Royale of Brussels, the text is deleted. However, the upper and lower extensions of the letters are still visible, so the source can none the less be considered here. Characteristic variants (see note 6) can thus be seen that establish this text transmission as identical with that of source A. (1)

Fertur in conviviis vinus vina vinum. Masculinum displicet, placet femininum; et in neutro genere vinum est divinum, loqui facit clericum optimum latinum. Volo inter omnia vinum pertransire: Vinum facit vetulas leviter salire et ditescit pauperes, claudos facit ire, mutis dat eloquium, et surdis audire. Potatores incliti semper sunt benigni tam senes quam juvenes; in aeterno igni cruciantur rustici, qui non sunt tam digni, ut gustare noverint bonum haustum vini. Meum est propositum in taberna mori et vinum apponere sitiente ori; ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori: “Deus sit propitius huic potatori.”

(2)

(3)

(4)

4

5

Bernhold Schmid, “Kontrafaktur und musikalische Gattung bei Orlando di Lasso,” Orlando di Lasso in der Musikgeschichte. Bericht über das Symposion der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften München, 4.–6. Juli 1994, ed. Bernhold Schmid (Munich: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), especially pp. 253–40. I am most grateful to Daniela Sadgorski for her help in preparing the editions of all the texts in this paper.

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l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ” (5)

Et plus quam ecclesiam diligam tabernam: illam nullo tempore sprevi neque spernam, donec sanctos angelos venientes cernam, cantantes pro ebriis: “Requiem eternam.”6

In the Oxford partbook a few words are changed, while others are only deleted and not replaced by another text. The variant “Bacchus” for “Deus,”known from D and F1/F2, is also found in Oxford; the other Oxford variants are unique. The version of the text in Le Roy and Ballard, found in all the sources listed under C and E, is constant. The Phalèse prints, A/B and D, have characteristic variants, and both versions differ from each other. In D, the motet print of 1569, in which the title specifically mentions sacrae cantiones, are found exactly those variants that sharpen the text, “potatorum” for “angelorum” (4,3),“Bacchus” for “Deus” (4,4), and “iustos potatores” for “sanctos angelos” (5,3), while the texts as a rule are purified instead. The agreement of the variants “surdisque” for “et surdis” (2,4) in A/B, D, and F1/F2, and “Bacchus” for “Deus” in D and F1/F2 is also striking. This leads to the conclusion that Leonhard Lechner, who saw to the editing of the 1579 Selectissimae cantiones for Gerlach, drew on source D. However, Lechner’s version of the text is not identical to that of D, but rather agrees in some places with the most widely distributed version, that of sources C and E. He may have known other sources besides D, and perhaps the text was

6

Variants among the sources in Table 6.1: 1,2 placet] atque A, B, D; “atque” corresponds to the reading of the text transmission that is otherwise usual. 1,3 et] sed A, B; “sed” corresponds to the reading of the otherwise usual text transmission; see below. 1,3 est] & E1. 2,4 et surdis] surdisque A, B, D, F1, F2. 3,1 benigni] beni deleted E2 Oxford. 3,4 noverint] valeant A, B; bonum] boni A, B. 4,3 angelorum] potatorum D; deleted E2 Oxford, replaced with Bacchantium. 4,4 Deus] Bacchus D, F1, F2; deleted E2 Oxford, replaced with Bacchus. 5,1 ecclesiam] deleted E2 Oxford, replaced with mulierem. 5,3 sanctos angelos] iustos potatores D. 5,3 sanctos] deleted E2 Oxford. 5,4 pro ebriis: “Requiem eternam.”] deleted E2 Oxford.

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bernhold schmid already familiar to him as well, so that he was able to make changes to the version of source D from memory.7 A few quotations contained in the text of the poem should be briefly mentioned. “Requiem aeternam” needs no explanation; it is the beginning of the introit of the Mass for the Dead. The source of “Deus sit propitius huic potatori”in Lasso’s fourth strophe is not so immediately obvious. It is a parodistic allusion to Luke 18:13, “Deus, propitius esto mihi peccatori” (God be merciful to me, a sinner).8 A variety of contrafacta of “Fertur in conviviis” are known to have been made. In the Magnum opus Musicum (RISM 1604a), the collected edition of Lasso’s motets prepared by his sons, the content of the text was turned upside down. Somewhat earlier a poem in memory of Clemens non Papa, “Tristis ut Euridicen,” was underlaid to the music. The sources of the contrafacta are listed in Table 6.2. Two versions of the contrafactum “Tristis ut Euridicen” are known. Source E2 in Table 6.1 has the original text underlaid, but “Tristis ut Euridicen” appears at the end of the piece as an alternate text with the inscription “Calliope loquitur. Epitaphium Clementis non Papae.” This is lacking in E1, E3, and E4, which contain only the original text. In E3 and E4 the index contains an indication of the connection with “Tristis ut Euridicen,”since the text incipit “Fertur in conviviis”in those two sources is headed by the senseless inscription “Epitaphium Clementis non Papae.” In sources H1–3 the poem is underlaid to the music in a slightly different 7

8

Further variants can be found in parallel settings by other composers. Prof. Ignace Bossuyt called the following variants in the composition of Jean de Castro to my attention: 3,4, “haustum bonum vini” rather than “bonum haustum vini”; 5,1, “rem medicam” rather than “ecclesiam”; 5,3, “istos potatores” rather than “iustos potatores,” as in source D. Because here and also in 4,3 “potatores” or “potatorum” appear rather than “angelos” or “angelorum,” and in 4,4 “Bacchus” rather than “Deus,” de Castro, whose composition according to Bossuyt is modeled on Lasso’s piece, must have gone back to source D for his text. Further on de Castro’s setting, see Bossuyt, “Orlando di Lasso as a Model for Composition as Seen in the Three-Voice Motets of Jean de Castro,” in the present volume. I am grateful to Prof. Bossuyt for supplying this information before the publication of his paper. Carmina Burana. Texte und Übersetzungen, ed. Benedikt Konrad Vollmann, Bibliothek des Mittelalters, 13 (Frankfurt: Deutscher Klassiker Verlag, 1987), p. 1218.

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l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ” Table 6.2 Sources of contrafacta of “Fertur in conviviis” Sigla used in this study

RISM sigla and number in the print

G

1604a, no. 141

H1

1576l, no. 41

H2

1582h, no. 61

H3

1594b, no. 61

Brief title Magnum opus Musicum, Nicholas Heinrich Thresor de musique [Geneva, S. Goulart] Le thresor de musique [Goulart] Le thresor de musique [Cologny, Paul Marceau]

version. It is not designated “Epitaphium” in these sources. The fifth strophe remarkably is absent in H2 and H3. In the following reproduction of the contrafactum from Magnum opus musicum the variants from the version established above from C1 are printed in italics: (1)

(2)

(3)

(4)

(5)

Fertur in conviviis vinus vina vinum. Masculinum displicet, nocet femininum; et in neutro genere vinum est nocivum, loqui facit homines pessimum latinum. Volo nunquam igitur vinum pertransire: quia facit homines leviter salire et jubet pauperibus, divites praeire, tecta pandit omnia, facitque perire. Potatores nequeunt fieri beati tam senes quam juvenes daemone sunt sati, nam sunt ad coelestia jussa non parati, edunt, bibunt et ludunt, hinc erunt damnati. Horum est propositum in taberna mori et vinum apponere sitienti ori; ut dicant cum venerint inferorum chori: “Bacchus sit propitius huic potatori.” Hi plus quam ecclesiam diligam tabernam: hanc nec ullo tempore ducunt condemnendam, donec malos angelos venientes cernant, cantantes his non fore: “Requiem eternam”

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bernhold schmid A comparison with the various versions of the original text shows that one of the F sources probably served as the source for this version. One indicator is in the fourth line of the second strophe, where “surdisque” (F among others) becomes “facitque” in the contrafactum, while in other sources the “-que” is replaced by a preceding “et.” This is made even more likely by “Bacchus”in line 4, strophe 4, which in sources other than F and the contrafacta appears as “Deus.” The changes compared to the model are sometimes very economical. Basically the content is simply changed into its opposite. This is one of the contrafacta that are found only in MOM and possibly made specifically for that edition. Besides “Fertur in conviviis,”the group also includes “Nunc gaudere licet,” “Bestia stultus homo,” and “Jam lucis orto sidere”; additional pieces could be listed.9 The reproduction of “Tristis ut Euridicen” follows source E2, because its version of the text is closer to the original in two details than that of source H. The original poem in strophe 2, verse 2 has “leviter salire,” which is taken over into strophe 4, verse 4 of E2; H on the other hand has “ludendo gaudere.”In E2 strophe 5, line 4 begins “cantare pro mortuo,”which is closer to the original “cantantes pro ebriis” than the “cantare Clemens habet” in source H. (1)

Tristis ut Euridicen Orpheus ab orco revocaret coniugem resonante plectro lyrae nervos tetigit dulciter canendo. Fecit et idem David Deo iubilando. Mens mea desiderat musicam probare et eam prae ceteris artis laudare: moerentes laetificat, graves mitigare, poenas novit cordium et deos placare. O cantores incliti, Musicae clientes,

(2)

(3)

9

Modern editions of “Nunc gaudere licet” in CM, vol. 6, pp. 87–90 (original text), and SW, vol. 19, p. 66 (contrafactum); “Bestia stultus homo” in SW, vol. 11, p. 95 (contrafactum), and SWNR, vol. 1, p. 67 (original text, which begins “Bestia curvafia”); “Jam lucis orto sidere” in CM, vol. 7, and SW, vol. 21, p. 84. In SW, vol. 21, edited by Adolf Sandberger, the original texts were printed, not the contrafacta that appear in MOM, contrary to the practice of the other motet volumes in SW. On “Nunc gaudere licet” see further Bernhold Schmid, “‘Nunc gaudere licet’ – Zur Geschichte einer Kontrafaktur,” Compositionswissenschaft: Festschrift für Reinhold und Roswitha Schlötterer, ed. Bernd Edelmann and Sabine Kurth (Augsburg: Verlag Dr. Bernd Wissner, 1999), pp. 47–56.

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l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ” videte Pierides Phociden colentes, iam Clementis non Papae eunt celebrantes (heu) tristes exequias lachrimis madentes. En Apollo respuit Cirrha personare et Euterpe calamos flatibus urgere, Terpsichore citharam digitis movere et Erato pedibus leviter salire. Phoebus ipsi dederat Musices coronam, nec eum Calliope sprevit, neque spernam. Nunc adeste sedulo musici, fas est nam cantare pro mortuo “Requiem aeternam.”10

(4)

(5)

The dependence of “Tristis ut Euridicen” on “Fertur in conviviis” can already be seen in the variants discussed preceding the reproduction of the text. Several passages show how strongly the poet of the contrafactum oriented himself to the original in spite of the completely different content. The encomium of music (“moerentes laetificat . . .”) in strophe 2, verses 3–4 of the contrafactum corresponds to the encomium of wine in strophe 2, verses 2–4 of the model. The model’s “Potatores incliti”in strophe 3, verse 1, becomes “O cantores incliti” at the same place in the contrafactum.“Sprevi neque spernam” in strophe 5, verse 2 of the model is taken up in the contrafactum as “sprevit, neque spernam.”Finally, both the model and the contrafactum end with “Requiem aeternam.” After all the text variants have been discussed, a fairly reliable stemma of the sources may be constructed, in which it cannot be unequivocally decided whether A or B is the first edition:11 10

11

Variants from E2: 1,4 et idem] melius H. 2,4 poenas] curas H. 2,4 deos] iras H. 3,2 Phociden] Parnassum H. 3,3 iam] deest H. 4,1 Cirrha] plectro H. 4,4 leviter salire] ludendo gaudere H. 5,1–4] deest H2, H3. 5,4 pro mortuo] Clemens habet H1. In the Septiesme livre a semibrevis a’ is lacking for the syllable “foe-” of “foemininum” in strophe 1, which is added in the Quatriesme livre. If one concludes from this that an error in the first printing was corrected in the second edition, then the Septiesme livre is the first edition.

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bernhold schmid A (1564) / B (1564) C1 (1565) C2 (1567) D (1569) C3 (1570) C4 (1573) C5 (1575)

E1 (1570)

E2 (1576) H1 (1576) F1 (1579)

C6 (1579) H2 (1582) C7 (1584) E3 (1586)

F2 (1587) C8 (1591) H3 (1594) C9 (1599) G (1604) E4 (1619)

All together we have twenty-two surviving sources, which can be grouped into eight publications, most of which were reprinted several times. The piece was published in chanson as well as motet books with three different texts over a span of fifty-five years. The popularity of Lasso’s “Fertur in conviviis”could hardly be demonstrated more convincingly. But let us return to the original text. It is based on a medieval drinking song that in turn goes back to a text by the Archpoet, namely the so-called “Confession of Golias,” which is included in the Carmina Burana as no. 191. Bernhard Bischoff gives the following four late medieval sources for the song:12 K = Copenhagen, AM 622 4o, c. 1550, from Iceland, p. 12. Sl = London, British Library, Sloane 2593, 15th century, fol. 31r–v (old numeration 78r–v). 12

Otto Schumann and Bernhard Bischoff, Carmina Burana, I. Band: Text, 3. Die Trink- und Spielerlieder. Die geistlichen Dramen, Nachträge (Heidelberg: Carl Winter – Universitätsverlag, 1970), pp. 19–21 (“Text des jüngeren Trinklieds, Quellenverzeichnis und Lesarten”). Carmen Buranum 191, the “Confession of Golias,” is printed ibid., pp. 6–8. The following discussion is based on Bischoff except where Lasso is the subject. In the presentation of the poem on p. 125 Bischoff’s remarks appear in italics.

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l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ” Vo = Volterra, Biblioteca Guarnacci 8653, 14th century, fols. 13v–14r. Pa = Rome, Vatican Library, Pal. Lat. 719, 15th century, fol. 24r.

For strophe 5 he cites additional sources, one of which is the following: M1 = Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Clm 10751, written 1575 in Westphalia, fol. 61.

On the basis of these sources Bischoff establishes the following text: (1)

Meum est propositum . . . as in “Confession,” strophe 12.

[That text is reproduced by Bischoff as follows on p. 7:

(2)

(3)

(4)

Meum est propositum in taberna mori, ut sint vina proxima morientis ori; tunc cantabunt letius angelorum chori: “Sit Deus propitius huic potatori.”] Potatores singuli sunt omnes benigni tam senes quam iuvenes; in eterno igni cruciantur rustici, qui non sunt tam digni, qui bibisse noverint vinum boni ligni. Vinum super omnia bonum diligamus! nam purgantur vitia, dum vinum potamus. Cum nobis sit copia vini, tunc clamamus: “qui vivis in secula, te deum laudamus.” After the greatly varied line 1, continuing as in “Confession,” strophe 11.

[The first line is given here following the version Lasso set, as shown above; this corresponds closely to one of the variants Bischoff cites on p. 17.

(5)

Et plusquam Ecclesiam diligo tabernam.] illam nullo tempore sprevi neque spernam, donec sanctos angelos venientes cernam, cantantes pro mortuis “Requiem aeternam.” Fertur in convivio vinus vina vinum. Masculinum displicet atque femininum; sed in neutro genere vinum est divinum, loqui facit socios optimum Latinum.

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bernhold schmid Strophes 1 and 4 are taken directly from the “Confession of Golias,”in which they appear as strophes 12 and 11. The other three strophes are not found in the Archpoet. Strophes 1, 2, 4, and 5 appear also in Lasso’s text, in the order 4, 3, 5, and 1. Strophe 3 of the drinking song is absent in Lasso. The sources Vo and Pa, however, each include a strophe 3a, which is reproduced from Bischoff, p. 21: (3a)Vini mirabilia volo pertransire: vinum facit hominem leviter salire et ditescit pauperem claudos facit ire, mutis dat facundiam, surdis dat audire.

Here we have Lasso’s strophe 2 before us, apart from the first half line and a few other small variants. If one proceeds exclusively from Bernhard Bischoff’s edition of the text of the drinking song, one might reach the conclusion that Lasso’s text reorders the strophes and makes a few other alterations in the text of an older poem that existed in a firmly fixed state. This is not correct, for Bischoff’s edition shows the existence of a highly unstable textual tradition in this drinking song. This unstable tradition is our starting point, not a firmly established text. The number and order of strophes are also unstable.13 When we examine Bischoff’s rather extensive list of variant readings (pp. 19–20), the instability of our text emerges even more strongly. A few of the readings he gives may also be found in the Lasso prints: “conviviis” rather than “convivio” and “clericum” rather than “socios” in Lasso’s strophe 1 appear also in the above-mentioned source M1. Lasso’s strophe 4 has “et vinum apponere”rather than “ut sint vina proxima,”and Bischoff (p. 17) mentions “Vinum sit appositum” and “vinum est apponere.” In the same strophe are to be found “sitienti ori” (Lasso) rather than “morientis ori” and “ut dicant cum venerint” (Lasso) rather than “tunc cantabunt letius.” It was already mentioned above that “Et plus quam ecclesiam diligo 13

The succession of five strophes given above is found in the source Sl. Source K is quite similar in its ordering; it has six stanzas: after 1, 2, 3, and 5 above follows strophe i from Carmen Buranum 219, and strophe 4 from source Sl serves as its final strophe. Sources Vo and Pa have still other numbers and orders of strophes, though Vo begins with strophe 1.

126

l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ” tabernam” (Lasso, strophe 5) rather than “Tertio capitulo memoro tabernam”is to be found among Bischoff’s variant readings. Lasso’s text and its variants thus fit completely into the picture of the unstable transmission of the drinking song, with its varying number and order of strophes and its most diverse textual versions: in it we have one of the numerous versions within the entire text transmission before us. Since the sources listed by Bischoff fall in part within the sixteenth century (M1: 1575, K: 1550; the latter stems from Iceland, and the geographic distribution was also extraordinary), the poem’s further appearance in Lasso’s work is not surprising. Ludwig van Beethoven also took up our text in his Ritterballet (WoO1): in the autograph “Mihi est propositum” is written at the beginning of No. 6, the “Trinklied.” However, it must have been intended only as a motto or citation, not as a continuously sung text, since Beethoven’s musical declamation corresponds to only the first three lines of every half-strophe. Beethoven probably came to know the poem through his teacher in Bonn, Christof Gottlob Neefe, who produced in 1780 and 1783 two versions of a melody that set a German translation by G.A. Bürger (1777). The Latin text was sung to the melody of “Gaudeamus igitur,”found in the collections of student songs (the so-called Kommersbücher, 1788 and 1818).14 With a composer like Lasso, whose strong involvement with the text was observed and discussed very early,15 it is reasonable to ask how far it is possible to interchange texts without thereby destroying the relationship of text and music.16 The contrafactum of “Fertur in conviviis” in MOM turns the sense of the original text into its opposite. However, grotesque tensions result in some measure from the moralizing warning against wine; it strug14

15

16

The information about Beethoven from Kurt E. Schürman, ed., Ludwig van Beethoven. Alle vertonten und musikalisch bearbeiteten Texte (Münster: Aschendorff, 1980), pp. 631–2. See for example Joachim Burmeister, Musica poetica (Rostock, 1606), who analyzed Lasso’s “In me transierunt” in accordance with his theory of musical figures. See Gottfried Scholz, “Zur rhetorischen Grundlage von Joachim Burmeisters Lassus-Analyse. Ein Beitrag zur Frühgeschichte der Musikanalytik,” Zur Geschichte der musikalischen Analyse. Bericht über die Tagung München 1993, ed. Gernot Gruber (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1996), pp. 25–43. See for example Richard Freedman, “Divin Accords: The Lassus Chansons and their Protestant Readers of the Late Sixteenth Century,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 273–94.

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bernhold schmid gles too much against the original, since it can agree only in part with the playful character of the composition. To replace the original drinking song with a serious text, an epitaphium for Clemens non Papa, seems farfetched,17 though it can work in specific places. The chant citation of “Requiem aeternam” in the drinking song has a parodistic character, and the citation can be taken over into the memorial motet for Clemens without damage, since it takes on a serious character corresponding to the text, although Lasso repeatedly introduces chant quoted in a parodistic sense into less serious compositions.18 The passage in the original, “cantantes (pro ebriis),”so strongly expressive of the text, is completely unproblematic in “cantare (pro mortuo)” in the epitaphium, and thus the text expression in the original continues to be valid. These however are exceptions in our piece, since its compositional style on the whole cannot serve for a lamenting text. Boetticher not unreasonably brings the original into relationship with “Lucescit jam o socii”and the four-voice villanescas “through strophic construction, songlike caesuras, and dancelike meter.”19 Songlike caesuras come about in connection with the extensive declamation of the text in block chords, dancelike meter through the frequent rhythmic patterns in three beats. The piece is in tempus imperfectum diminutum, but several passages in tempus perfectum diminutum are introduced (“loqui facit clericum,”“Potatores incliti,”“ut gustare noverint bonum haustum vini”). In addition, the hidden three-beat patterns brought about by syncopations within the duple meter are striking (see Ex. 6.1). (See also for example “vinus vina vinum,” mm. 4–6,“et in neutro genere,” mm. 13–15, and “inter omnia,” mm. 25–6, as well as the subsequent cadence on “vinum pertransire,” mm. 26–8.) Finally, unexpectedly short note values, which are none the less underlaid with text, leap to the eyes (see Ex. 6.2). All this seems to 17

18

19

See also Ludwig Finscher and Annegrit Laubenthal, “‘Cantiones quae vulgo motectae vocantur.’ Arten der Motette im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert,” in Ludwig Finscher, ed., Die Musik des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts, Teil 2, Neues Handbuch der Musikwissenschaft vol. 3,2 (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1990), p. 348. On the citation of the Gregorian “Requiem aeternam” and similar chant citations see Bernhard Meier, “Melodiezitate in der Musik des 16. Jahrhunderts,” Tijdschrift van de Vereniging voor Nederlandse Muziekgeschiedenis, 20 (1964–5), p. 3; he refers to the contrafactum text from MOM found in SW, without noting that SW, vol. 3, p. viii, prints the original text. Boetticher, Lasso, p. 595 (“Lucescit jam o socii”, SW2, vol. 16, p. 174, and SWNR, vol. 1, p. 121) and p. 230 (comparison with the villanescas).

128

l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”

& 24 ˙ in

ta

& 24 ˙

˙

in

4 ˙ V2

- tum

in

˙

- tum

-

in

ber

˙ bw -

na

bw

˙

˙

?4 ˙ 2

w

˙

˙

mo

˙ -

˙ w

#˙

ta

˙

-

ber

w

-

na

mo

˙ w

-

˙

-

bw

ber

-

na

mo

-

ta

-

ber

-

ta

˙ w

na

mo

ri

ri

˙

ri

˙ -

ri

Example 6.1: “Fertur in conviviis,” mm. 64–6, original text

˙

w

et

vi

Example 6.2

&Ó &Ó VÓ ?Ó

˙

w

˙ -

num

˙

œ œ ˙

ap

-

po - ne - re

˙

˙

œ œ ˙

et

˙

vi

w

-

num

˙

ap

˙

-

po - ne - re

et

vi

w

-

num

ap

-

po - ne - re

vi

-

num

ap

-

po - ne - re

˙ et

˙

˙

œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙

Example 6.2: “Fertur in conviviis,” mm. 67–8, original text

have been done so as to make the meter stagger, which corresponds to the parodistic character of the original text, perhaps even to connect it very directly with the staggering of a drunken person. In any case it does not match in the least the character of a lament. If one considers the text-expressive passages in the original in comparison with the epitaphium, the impression is then reinforced that the lamenting text and the music that was not originally written for it do not belong together. The succession of semiminims at “leviter salire” in the original text is clearly to be understood as expressive of the text, while “artibus laudare” in the epitaphium cannot be connected convincingly with the semiminims (see Ex. 6.3). On the other hand, when “leviter salire” appears in the epitaphium (the original had “huic potatori” at that point, mm. 77–9), longer note values appear. In strophe 4, verse 4 of the original text “Deus” is emphasized with two breves, which can be understood as a 129

bernhold schmid

& ˙ - las - is

& ˙

œ

œ

œ

le - vi - ter ar - ti - bus

œ

œ

œ

œ

sa - li lau - da

œ

w

˙ ˙

-

re, re,

w

- las - is

le - vi - ter ar - ti - bus

sa - li lau - da

-

re, re,

- las - is

le - vi - ter ar - ti - bus

sa - li lau - da

-

re, re,

- las - is

le - vi - ter ar - ti - bus

sa - li lau - da

-

re, re,

V ˙ ? ˙

œ œ

œ œ

œ œ

œ œ

˙ ˙

w w

Example 6.3: “Fertur in conviviis,” mm. 31–2, original text above, epitaphium text below

noëma. When the epitaphium places “Et E(rato)” under these long notes, they lose their meaning. Finally, the underlay “(heu) tristes exequias lachrimis madentes” under a rhythm of long–short–long–short in tempus perfectum (originally set to “ut gustare noverint bonum haustum vini”) is completely inappropriate. In short, the epitaphium must be considered a failure. In summary it may be said that the dependence of the various sources on one another is clarified by the variants in the text. Which sources Lasso’s sons used for MOM has not yet been explored sufficiently.20 Specific text variants make it probable, though, that Lechner’s Selectissimae cantiones (source F) is the basis for “Fertur in conviviis” in MOM. The large number of previously unknown text variants is itself an indication of the need for the revision of the motet volumes of the collected edition. The source of Lasso’s text can be established. Finally, it can be shown once again that in a contrafactum problems of the relationship between text and music often, though not inevitably, arise. * Let us return to our starting point, the Oxford contratenor partbook of the Meslanges d’Orlande de Lassus of 1576 (E2). It was remarked at the beginning that in this source changes and cancellations in the text were found not only in “Fertur in conviviis” but also in other compositions. They can be mentioned briefly in closing:“Vous qui aymez”(fol. 41v): in the last line “in 20

See Horst Leuchtmann, “Zum Ordnungsprinzip in Lassos Magnum Opus Musicum,” Musik in Bayern, 40 (1990), pp. 46–72, especially pp. 47–9.

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l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ” nomine Domine” is crossed out. “Deus qui bonum vinum” (fol. 35r): the first “Deus” is crossed out but still can be read; the second line also begins with “Deus,” which is crossed out and completely unreadable. “Vinum bonum et suave” (fol. 84v, Contra; fol. 85r, secundus Bassus): text variants are introduced at two points: Original text Christus vinum semel fecit ex aqua, quod non defecit ... Ergo Christum invocemus

Variants Bacchus vinum semper nobis inf ex aqua, quod non defecit ... Ergo Bacchum invocemus

In the contra the line “Christus vinum semel fecit” is crossed out, and the cancellation has led to the ink eating away the paper. “Christum” in the second passage is also crossed out, and here too the paper has deteriorated. In the bassus the same cancellations and erosion of the paper are found, but the variants are written above the original text. The meaning of the syllable “inf ”is unclear; possibly a more extensive emendation of the text following “Bacchus” was planned but not carried out, which would also apply to the following verse. It is significant that both times “Christus” was replaced by “Bacchus,” which leads to the conclusion that in “Deus qui bonum vinum” the same change would have been undertaken. When one considers the diverse manuscript alterations in the Oxford copy of the Meslanges as well as the variants in the original text of “Fertur in conviviis” listed above in its reprints, it may be seen that all of the changes that have to do with the subject of drinking lend a more caustic character to the text. This is unusual and should be especially noted at the end of this study, since alterations in texts are usually for the purpose of purification and are more likely to soften than to intensify the original. Translated by Peter Bergquist

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7

Orlando di Lasso and Rome: personal contacts and musical influences noel o’regan

The common use of the Italian version of his name serves to underline the important part played by Italy and Italian music in the life and work of Orlando di Lasso. His earliest adult musical experiences took place there in the 1550s and he paid frequent visits thereafter; he composed madrigals and villanelle to Italian texts and his music attained considerable popularity in Italy. This essay examines Lasso’s relations with one important Italian center, Rome. Personal and musical contacts between the composer and the city occurred during three main periods: the early 1550s when, as a young man, he lived and worked there; the early 1560s when his compositions played a major part in an exchange of music between Rome and Munich; and the year 1574 when he revisited the papal city while on a tour of Italy looking for singers.1 The 1550s and 1574 provided opportunities for personal contacts with Roman musicians; as well as the 1560s exchange, evidence of musical contact also comes from Roman manuscripts and from contemporary inventories of music held at the city’s institutions. Of particular interest is the possibility of musical cross-fertilization between Lasso and Palestrina, the two major musical figures in their respective cities, who also coincidentally died in the same year. While there is no direct evidence of personal contact between them, these two composers must surely have known each other when they simultaneously held positions as maestri di cappella at Rome’s two most important basilicas during the early 1550s. In a city with as small a population as Rome then had (around 80,000) it is inconceivable that they should not have had some contact. We do not know exactly how long Lasso spent at S. Giovanni in 1

Leuchtmann, Leben, p. 170.

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o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e Laterano: the only known reference to him in the basilica’s archives is to the granting of a cotta to “il maestro cappella Orlando” on 21 May 1553.2 Evidence from another archival source (see below) establishes that he was already in the post on 31 March of that year3 and may have taken up the position as early as 1552: he had definitely left by December 1554, and Samuel Quickelberg, writing in 1566, said that he served a “biennium” at S. Giovanni.4 So a tenure from late 1552 to late 1554 seems most likely. Palestrina was maestro at the Cappella Giulia in S. Pietro from 1551 to 1555. At that stage there would have been quite a contrast between the two men: the slightly younger Lasso was already a cosmopolitan musician, having seen the court of Charles V in Flanders as well as service in Mantua, Milan, and Naples; Palestrina, on the other hand, had been plucked from the relative obscurity of an organist’s post in the town of Palestrina to become maestro di cappella at St. Peter’s, and had no experience beyond the Roman hinterland.

The archconfraternity of Santissimo Crocefisso in San Marcello One institution which could have provided a point of contact between the two musicians was the Arciconfraternità del Santissimo Crocefisso attached to the church of S. Marcello, for which both organized musicians during those years (Lasso in 1553 and Palestrina in 1552, 1558, and 1570). In particular, Palestrina and Lasso organized singers in successive years (1552 and 1553) for the Holy Thursday/Good Friday procession which had been pioneered by that body and in which all the confraternities of Rome took part.5 This was the only major Roman institution, apart from S. Giovanni in Laterano, for which Lasso is known to have organized music. Table 7.1 gives all surviving payments which either mention one of the two composers by name, or which remunerate singers from the institutions for 2

4 5

Raffaele Casimiri, Orlando di Lasso, maestro di cappella al Laterano (Rome: 3 See below, Table 7.1. Edizione del “Psalterium”, 1920). Quoted in Leuchtmann, Leben, p. 89. For information on this and other Roman processions see Noel O’Regan, “Processions and their Music in Post-Tridentine Rome,” Recercare, 4 (1992), pp. 45–80.

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noel o’regan Table 7.1 Documented payments by the Arciconfraternità del Santissimo Crocefisso to Lasso or Palestrinaa scudi LASSO 8 Aprile 1553. A M. Orlanno maestro di cappella di Sancto Giovanni scudi quattro et baiocchi quaranta e sonno per il Venerdi Santo in processione a Sancto Pietro. (Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Arciconfraternità del SS. Crocefisso, A-XI-20, Libro entrate-uscite 1552–53, fol. 25v)

4.40

16 Giugno 1553 (Processione del Corpus Domini). Alli cantori di S. Giovanni Pifari de Castello Pifari de Campidoglio Trombetti de Campidoglio (A-XI-15, Libro entrate-uscite 1550–54, fol. 73v)

2 2 1.50 1.50

23 Giugno 1553. Per la festa di Santa Croce alli cantori di S. Giovanni in Laterano (A-XI-15, fol. 74)

1.50

PALESTRINA 22 Aprile 1552. Mandato del maestro de capella de Sancto Pietro per la procesione de la Venerdi Santo scuti cinque e mezo Mandato alli trombeti per fare lo bando del Venerdi Santo duo scuti Mandato de Frate Agostino per aconcare lorgano Mandato al maestro de capella de Santo Aluisci per la processione de lo Venerdi Santo (A-XI-18, Libro entrate-uscite 1551–52, fol. 4) 22 Aprile 1552. Pagar al maestro di cappella di S. Pietro per haver accompagnato la sera del Venerdi Santo la nostra processione scudi cinque de oro Pagar ad lo trombetta che ha bandito in li luoghi ordinarii et extraordinarii le indulgentie et processione del Venerdi Santo (A-XI-15, fol. 37) 7 Aprile 1558. A maestro Rubino [Mallapert] cantor per una cappella di cantori che viene a la processione del Jovedi Santo alli 7 de Aprile Ali cantori di San Joanni per esser venuti alla processione del Giovedi Santo paghai al Signor Jo:Batta Salviati (A-XI-27, Libro entrate-uscite 1557–58 (included with non-foliated mandati), fol. xv)

5.50 2 1 1

5.50 1

4 6

15 Giugno 1558. Mandato di scudi dodici de moneta da pagar alli cantori che venirno al processione del Corpus Domini Mercordi 15 de Junio 1558 vz. scuti quattuor alli cantori di S. Jovanni quattro a quelli di S. Maria Magior et quattro a quelli di S. Loisi 12

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o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e Table 7.1 (cont.) On the reverse: Io Firmino maestro di capella di Santo Ludovico ho riceputo [...] Ita est Firmin Lebel. Io Adriano Valent maestro di capella di Santa Maria Maggiore [...] Ita est Adriano Valent. Ho pagato li quattro scudi alli cantori di San Giovanni li quali porto M. Giovanni de Alatre adi 27 di Luglio (A-XI-27, Mandati 1557–58, non-foliated) Mandato de scudi dodici de moneta da pagar alli cantori per venirno alla processione del Corpus Domini Mercordi 15 de Jugnio 1558 vz. scudi 4 alli cantori di S. Jovanni in Laterano, 4 di S. Maria Maggiore e 4 di S. Loysi. (A-XII-98, Mandati 1557–61, fol. 13v)

12

[...] scudi 1.20 per colatione delli trombetti di castello per accompagnorno sonando la processione del Corpus Domini 1.20 (A-XII-98, fol. 15) 21 Aprile 1570. Pagar ad M. Marcello Tortora [singer at S. Maria Maggiore] scudi quattro a bon conto della musicha del Giovedi Santo Pagar ad M. Jovanni Pietro Luisio scudi dieci per la musica del Giovedi Santo questo di 21 di Aprile 1570 (A-XII-100, Mandati, 1564–77, fol. 75)

4 10

Note: a Where two versions of a payment survive, these are both given. Any payments to other musicians for the same occasions are also included. Original spelling has been retained but abbreviated words are written out in full and modern capitalization is used.

which they were working. This updates and extends the information given by Domenico Alaleona.6 In the case of Lasso, only the first payment (for the Good Friday procession which fell on 31 March in 1553) mentions him by name and calls him “maestro di cappella di S. Giovanni di Laterano.” The other payments (for the feast of the Discovery of the Holy Cross and the Corpus Christi procession) simply mention the singers of S. Giovanni (this has to be S. Giovanni in Laterano: S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini did not have any singers at this period, nor did any other church dedicated to a S. Giovanni). The inclusion or not of a named maestro di cappella in such records of payment for 6

Domenico Alaleona, Storia dell’oratorio musicale in Italia (Milan: Fratelli Bocca, 1945), pp. 327–32.

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noel o’regan special occasions by Roman institutions was arbitrary: his non-appearance in the payment does not rule out his participation (in a number of cases different versions of the same payment can include or omit the name of the person in charge). Since Lasso is not thought to have left Rome until 1554 it seems reasonable to assume that he was also in charge of the singers from S. Giovanni on these other two occasions in 1553 – though we will probably never be absolutely sure of this. If this was the case, it trebles the known occasions for which Lasso provided the confraternity with music and means that he was effectively its chosen musician-in-charge in 1553. Palestrina’s involvement was on a more extended scale: while only one payment actually mentions him by name (the Holy Thursday procession in 1570), that for the same procession in 1552 was made to the maestro di cappella of S. Pietro, a post known to have been held by him in that year. The two payments for 1558, by which time Palestrina had taken over Lasso’s old position as maestro di cappella at S. Giovanni in Laterano, are more problematic: for Holy Thursday, with singers hired both from that basilica and from the then freelance Rubino Mallapert, payment was made, not to Palestrina, but to one of the singers of S. Giovanni. The same thing happened for the Corpus Christi procession when three choirs were hired, from S. Maria Maggiore, S. Luigi dei Francesi, and S. Giovanni in Laterano. The maestri of the first two signed for the money due to their singers, but Palestrina did not; instead it was signed for over a month later by one of his singers. This was not uncommon and, as stated above, does not rule out Palestrina’s involvement. The sums of money involved imply that the major part of the choir was involved, and it is reasonable to assume that Palestrina was also present. His final known provision of music for SS. Crocefisso (upgraded to the rank of archconfraternity since 1564) was in 1570, again for the Holy Thursday procession. Although still only providing one of the choirs, he was now paid ten scudi, which would indicate that he provided a greater number of singers. As well as singers, the archives also record payments to piffari (cornetts and trombones) and trumpeters. These were always found at Roman processions, though there is no evidence that they accompanied the singers. Groups of singers and instrumentalists were spaced out along the procession’s length, particularly at the head and tail. The great Holy Week procession started on the evening of Holy Thursday and continued 136

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e through the night into Good Friday, with members of all Roman confraternities (in habits and hoods) making their way from their individual church or oratory to St. Peter’s Basilica, where they were shown relics of the Passion (veil of Veronica, spear of Longinus etc.) before making their way back to their bases. Many of the confraternities included flagellants among their number. Of note is the payment to a trumpeter in 1552 for broadcasting news of the special indulgences to be gained by those taking part in this procession, a common method of advertising in those days. The Corpus Domini procession was a more local affair, held by each confraternity within its own locality. There is no evidence that either composer was a member of the archconfraternity of SS. Crocefisso: neither name appears in a register of members from 1550 to 1557.7 Palestrina’s grandmother had left four barrels of wine to the archconfraternity in her will of 1527 and she may have been affiliated.8 Among its members were the piffari di castello (i.e. the papal windband) and many of the papal singers, who normally belonged to this confraternity: Palestrina would thus have participated in corporate membership during his period of service in the papal choir (January–September 1555). Although he also seems not to have been a member, the exiled Florentine Archbishop Antonio Altoviti left fifty scudi to the archconfraternity in his will on his death in 1573.9 Now Lasso was a member of Altoviti’s circle while in Rome in the 1550s and was a guest at the Altoviti palace.10 Another member of that circle was the Tuscan composer Giovanni Animuccia, who was to succeed Palestrina as maestro di cappella at the Cappella Giulia in 1555, and who dedicated his Primo libro de motetti of 1552 to the archbishop. Another member of the Altoviti circle at that time was Filippo Neri, who was already embarked on his apostolate with the young people of Rome and was shortly to start including the singing of laude spirituali in his gatherings, many composed by Animuccia. Lasso was thus in personal contact with two of the most important figures in Roman musical and devotional life during his early years in the city. 7 8

9 10

Rome, Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Fondo SS. Crocefisso, Z-I-48. Lino Bianchi and Giancarlo Rostirolla, Iconografia palestriniana (Lucca: Libraria musicale italiana, 1994), p. 51. Rome, Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Fondo SS. Crocefisso, F-XIX-23, non-foliated. Donna Cardamone Jackson, “Orlando di Lasso and Pro-French Factions in Rome,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 23–44.

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noel o’regan What music might Lasso have provided for the confraternity’s processions? We can only speculate, with little to go on at this period. Later in the century we know that motets for four and five voices,litanies and psalms were sung in processions such as these.11 A number of motets in Lasso’s Il primo libro de motetti a cinque e a sei voce of 1556 have texts suitable for Holy Week, with themes of penitence and conversion (for example, “Peccavi quid faciam,” “Domine, non est exaltatum cor meum,” and “Domine probasti me”). Another of those pieces, “Gustate et videte,” has a text which is normally associated with the Eucharist; Wolfgang Boetticher reported Edward Lowinsky’s speculation that it might have been written for the Corpus Christi procession at S. Giovanni in Laterano in 1553.12 The piece appears in both a Roman manuscript and print (see below, Table 7.2); while both date from well after Lasso’s time in Rome, it is possible that the motet (which is in a style more consistent with the 1550s than later) was composed by him in 1553, when it could have been used for either the Holy Thursday or Corpus Christi processions, or both (since the former feast is also centered on the Eucharist).

A musical exchange between Rome and Munich It was to be nearly ten years before there was any further explicit musical contact between Lasso and the city. In 1561–2 an exchange of music was organized between Munich and Rome, with the influential Cardinal Otto, Truchsess von Waldburg, acting as intermediary.13 This exchange may have been motivated by contemporary discussions about the suitability of polyphonic styles of sacred music, though there is no specific evidence of this. It might simply have been an act of homage by one court to another at a time when Cardinal Otto would have been keen to cement relationships between Rome and Munich. The retention of Bavaria within the Catholic fold was of crucial importance to Truchsess who, as well as being Bishop of Augsburg, also represented the Holy Roman Emperor at the papal court. His personal interest in music and his enthusiasm for Lasso’s 11 13

12 Boetticher, Lasso, p. 127. See O’Regan, “Processions.” Lewis Lockwood, The Counter-Reformation and the Masses of Vincenzo Ruffo (Vienna: Universal, 1970), p. 82.

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o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e music in particular are well documented.14 It was exactly at this time too that he formed his own cappella, with Jacobus de Kerle as maestro.15 Music from Munich was sent to Rome first, all of it seemingly composed by Lasso (although he was not yet maestro di cappella at the Munich court), but there is no record of what exactly it was. On 28 February 1561 Cardinal Otto reported from Rome that Lasso’s music, particularly the masses,“has pleased not only [Cardinal] Vitelli in particular, and everyone here, but especially Cardinal Borromeo, who has had them copied and wishes to have them performed in the Papal Chapel.” Unfortunately, no manuscript copies of masses by Lasso survive in the Cappella Sistina library, or in any other Roman collection (though printed copies do – see below). On the other hand, the cardinal’s statement implies that works other than masses were also sent: a number of motets by Lasso are found in Roman manuscripts, and it is perhaps among them that we must look for tangible evidence of the music by Lasso known in the city. We do know that Palestrina’s “Missa Benedicta es” was sent to Munich.16 Lasso was subsequently to base a Magnificat on the model for Palestrina’s mass (Josquin’s “Benedicta es caelorum Regina”), a clear acknowledgment that he had taken the Roman work seriously.

Lasso’s 1574 visit to Rome Another opportunity for personal contact between Lasso and Roman composers came in 1574 when Lasso is known to have visited the city and presented Pope Gregory XIII with the second book of his Patrocinium Musices, the Missae Aliquot, dedicated to the pope, receiving in return the 14

15 16

Truchsess asked Duke Albrecht of Bavaria to bring his singers (led by Lasso) with him when he visited the cardinal at Dillingen for Christmas 1566. See Adolf Layer, “Musikpflege am Hofe der Fürstbischöfe von Augsburg in der Renaissancezeit,”Jahrbuch des Vereins für Augsburger bistumsgeschichte, 10 (1986), p. 204. See Otto Ursprung, Jacobus de Kerle (Munich: J. Heldwein, 1913). Palestrina’s mass was copied into Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Mus. Ms. 46, about 1565. It was accompanied by the “Missa Ultimi miei sospiri” in Mus. Ms. 45, said to have been composed by F. Roussel/Rosselli (See Lockwood, Vincenzo Ruffo, p. 82), but KBM 5/1, p. 170, has now clarified its authorship as being by the north Italian composer Giovanni Maria de Rossi (“Il Rosso”).

139

noel o’regan Order of the Golden Spur from Pope Gregory XIII. Lasso was in Rome from 15 to 20 March and again around 6 April, visiting Naples in between. It is difficult to imagine him not seeking out Palestrina,since the two would have had so much to discuss about developments in sacred music in the years following the Council of Trent. The 6th of April was the Tuesday of Holy Week and it is possible, even likely, that Lasso managed to attend some Holy Week services in the city, for example at the Cappella Giulia, and the Holy Thursday procession of confraternities.Since he was on a recruiting mission he would have been keen to hear as many singers and musicians as possible.It can hardly be just a coincidence that later in the same year, on 9 October 1574, the German organist at St. Peter’s, Mark Houtermann, was given a rise in salary from three scudi a month to four because he had threatened to leave to work for the Duke of Bavaria, and the authorities at St. Peter’s wanted to keep him since he had given excellent service for thirteen years.17 If Lasso heard and met Houtermann, he must also have met Palestrina, the Cappella Giulia’s maestro.It is also highly likely that Lasso visited the German College, where he would have met the youngVictoria,then Moderator Musicae.

Music by Lasso known in Rome Seven four-voice motets by Lasso were included in an anthology of 1563, compiled by Antonio Barrè, the Rome-based printer and editor who had been a member of the Cappella Giulia in 1552–3, while Lasso was in Rome.18 Five of these had already appeared in Lasso’s own first publication, his Il primo libro dovesi contengono madrigali, villanesche, canzoni francesi, et motetti a quattro voci (Antwerp, Susato, 1555);19 for the other two,“Quia 17

18

19

Giancarlo Rostirolla, “La Cappella Giulia in S. Pietro negli anni del magistero di Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina,” Atti del convegno di studi Palestriniani, 28 settembre–2 ottobre 1975, ed. Francesco Luisi (Palestrina: [s.n.], 1977), p. 246. Liber primvs mvsarvm cvm qvattvor vocibus sacrarvm cantionvm qve vvlgo motetta vocantvr ab Orlando di Lassvs, Cipriano Rore, et aliis ecclesiasticis avthoribvs compositarum, ab Antonio Barrè collectarum & in lucem nunc primum editarum (Venice: Gardano, RISM 15633). There were two editions of this publication printed in Antwerp in 1555, one with the Italian title given here and the other with the French title, Le quatoirsiesme livre à quatre parties contenant dixhuyct chansons italiennes, six chansons françoises, et six motetz...par Rolando di Lassus (RISM 1555b and 1555a respectively).

140

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e vidisti me Thoma” and “Scio enim quod redemptor meus vivit,” Barrè’s anthology is the earliest known source. Though printed in Venice as part of a series edited by Barrè for Gardano (the other volumes concentrated on secular music) the anthology gives a good indication of the music available and sung in Rome at this time. As well as the seven pieces by Lasso (the largest number by a single composer) there were three by Cipriano de Rore, two each by Palestrina, Adrian Valent, and Hernando Lerma (all of whom had musical positions in Roman churches), and one each by Paolo Animuccia, Josquin Baston, Jacob Clemens, Johannes Lupi, Jean Maillard, and the Italian, Annibale Zoilo, Palestrina’s earliest protégé. One further early Lasso motet is found in both a Roman manuscript and printed source dating from the 1590s: the five-voice “Gustate et videte,”mentioned earlier, which first appeared in Lasso’s Il primo libro de motetti a cinque & a sei voci of 1556 (Antwerp, Laet). It is possible that these Lasso motets were among the pieces sent to Rome in 1562, though it seems more probable that Lasso would have sent more up-to-date music. All of the motets in Barrè’s 1563 anthology are stylistically similar, examples of standard mid-century Franco-Flemish imitative polyphony, characterized in particular by long melismatic lines. Table 7.2 lists individual pieces by Lasso found in Roman manuscripts (dates of first publication are given in brackets). Printed music by the composer is also included in a number of surviving Roman inventories dating from the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries: Table 7.3 lists particular prints which can be identified, together with the institutions where they appear. Publications of Lasso’s sacred music feature particularly strongly in an inventory from the Chiesa Nuova (perhaps reflecting Lasso’s acquaintance with Filippo Neri in the early 1550s). They are also included in sixteenth-century lists from San Luigi dei Francesi and San Rocco.20 The Cappella Pontificia has only his 1574 masses, presumably the copy presented by the composer to Pope Gregory XIII in that same year. Evidence of Roman performances of specific pieces is confined to his setting of “Deus misereatur nostri,” sung at the Collegio Germanico on 17 January 1583 20

On the other hand, there are significant Roman institutions for which inventories of printed music survive which do not include Lasso; these include the Cappella Giulia, S. Giovanni in Laterano, S. Maria Maggiore, S. Lorenzo in Damaso, S. Giacomo degli Spagnoli, and S. Maria di Monserrato.

141

noel o’regan Table 7.2 Pieces by Lasso found in Roman manuscripts (Rn=Biblioteca Nazionale; Rsc=Biblioteca del Conservatorio di Santa Cecilia; Rvat=Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana) 5vv

Gustate et videte (1st ed. 1556) Benedicam Dominum (1562) Confitemini Domino (1562) In me transierunt (1562) Surrexit pastor bonus (1562)

Rsc G 796–804a Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88 Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88 Rvat Cappella Sistina 484 Rsc G 796–804a

6vv

Quare tristis es, anima mea (1564) Locutus sum in lingua mea (1568)

Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88 Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88

8vv

In convertendo Dominus (1565) Deus misereatur nostri (1566) Levavi oculos meos in montes (1566)

All three 8vv pieces are found in: Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88 (revised) Rvat Cappella Giulia XIII 24 (revised) Rsc G 792–795/Rn Mss. Mus. 117–121 (revised)

Note: These pieces are also found in Jean Matelart, Responsoria, antiphonae et hymni in processionibus per annum (Rome: Nicolo Mutii, 1596). a

Table 7.3 Publications by Lasso listed in inventories from Roman churches Motettorum 5,6vv (1561) (Chiesa Nuova) Sacrae Cantiones 5vv (Nuremberg, 1562) (San Rocco) Sacrae lectiones novem (Venice, 1565) (San Luigi dei Francesi) Sacrae cantiones liber secundus 5,6vv (Venice, 1566) (Chiesa Nuova) Sacrae cantiones liber tertius 5,6vv (Venice, 1566) (Chiesa Nuova) Motettorum 6,7vv (1569) (Chiesa Nuova) Patrocinium Musices...missae aliquot, secunda pars, 5vv (Munich, 1574) (Cappella Sistina) Patrocinium Musices...Magnificat aliquot, quinta pars, 4–6, 8vv (Munich, 1576) (Chiesa Nuova) The Chiesa Nuova inventory (1608) lists two further books of motets by Lasso without sufficient information to identify them exactly.

142

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e after Compline as part of a special Forty-Hours Devotion to pray that the Archbishop of Cologne would not turn Lutheran.21 Particularly significant evidence of his continued popularity in Rome is the fact that the maestro at S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini, Felice Anerio, caused six unspecified pieces by Lasso to be copied from a print in 1590.22 Two of the pieces in Table 7.2, “Gustate et videte” and “Surrexit pastor bonus,” are found in sources connected with both S. Spirito in Sassia (the Rsc partbooks) and S. Lorenzo in Damaso (Matelart’s 1596 publication).23 The three eight-voice pieces are found in manuscripts connected with the Cappella Giulia, Chiesa Nuova, and SS. Trinità dei Pellegrini. All of this represents a considerable number of Roman institutions with experience of Lasso’s music. Further evidence of interest is provided by an inventory of the goods found in the room of the rector of the Collegio Capranica on 5 September 1590: included was an unspecified bundle of books by Orlando di Lasso, the only named composer in the list. These may, however, have been madrigals, since the inventory also lists a set of five viols and a cittern.24 An inventory of the books found in the shop of a bookseller called Giacomo Verrecchio in the Via del Pellegrino, at his death on 1 July 1591 included copies of Lasso’s first and third books of madrigals a4, his first, second and fifth books of madrigals a5, and fifteen copies of an unspecified book of motets.25 Perhaps the most significant thing to emerge from the two tables is the predominance of individual pieces and publications dating from the 1560s. 21

22 23 24

25

Archives of the Germano-Hungarian College in Rome, Diario del Padre Michele Lauretano 1582–3, 51. Quoted as Document 60 in Thomas D. Culley, Jesuits and Music, i: A Study of the Musicians Connected with the German College in Rome during the 17th Century and of their Activities in Northern Europe (Rome: Jesuit Historical Institute, 1970). Rome, Archive of S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini, 197, unfoliated. O’Regan, “Processions.” Vera Vita Spagnuolo, “Gli atti notarili dell’Archivio di Stato di Roma. Saggio di spoglio sistematico: l’anno 1590,” La musica a Roma attraverso le fonti d’archivio: Atti del convegno internazionale, Roma 4–7 giugno 1992, ed. Bianca Maria Antolini, Arnaldo Morelli, and Vera Vita Spagnuolo (Lucca: Libreria musicale italiana, 1994), p. 63. Ibid., pp. 57–8. Only one book of four-voice madrigals by Lasso is known to exist. It is not clear whether the reference to a third book is in error or evidence of a madrigal book that has not survived. If the latter, it would follow that a second book has also been lost. Further on this see Boetticher, Lasso, pp. 751 and 754, s.v. 1563ε and 1565µ.

143

noel o’regan This implies either a strong interest in Lasso’s music during this decade in Rome, or a continued interest in the music which Lasso published in the 1560s, or most likely both. Now it was precisely during this decade that Roman church music, undergoing radical change in the aftermath of the Council of Trent, would have been most open to influence by Lasso’s music. If this were the case it is likely to have been felt mostly in the areas of texture and sonority, since melodically there remained significant differences between Lasso and Roman composers. It was in the matter of texture, in particular, that a fundamental change took place in Roman church music during the 1560s. It is, however, difficult to pinpoint this precisely in the published works of Palestrina and Giovanni Animuccia, the only composers publishing in the city during that decade; the unresolved debate over the dating of the “Missa Papae Marcelli” is a witness to this. It is compounded by the fact that Palestrina’s severely imitative and contrapuntal 1563 Motecta festorum totius anni are for four voices only, and would thus be less likely to exhibit newer textural tendencies; his next book of motets, the Primo libro dei mottetti a cinque, sei e sette voci of 1569, shows a pronounced move to more layered homophony, at least some of which is the result of the greater number of voices employed. Palestrina published no masses between the strongly Franco-Flemish first book of 1554 and those of 1567 which were written, as he himself said in the dedication, in a “new manner.” Animuccia’s only published masses are those of his Missarum liber primus of 1567 in which he endeavored that the music “might disturb the hearing of the text as little as possible.”These, and his Magnificats of 1568, show a significant break from the style of his earlier works, but he had not published any sacred music since 1552. All but two of the Lasso pieces in Table 7.2 (“Benedicam Dominum” and “Gustate et videte”) have the sort of antiphonal dialogue between subgroups of voices which became a feature of both Palestrina’s and Animuccia’s style from their 1567 masses onwards. For instance, Example 7.1, taken from “In me transierunt,” found in the manuscript, Cappella Sistina 484 (and published in 1562), and Example 7.2, taken from “Locutus sum in lingua mea” in the Biblioteca Nazionale partbooks (and published in 1568), are clear examples of the sort of pseudo-polyphonic writing which was seen to satisfy the requirements of the Council of Trent, while showing a keen sensitivity to the words. These can be compared to Example 144

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e

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Example 7.1: Orlando di Lasso, “In me transierunt” (1562), mm. 26–39 (CM, vol. 2)

7.3, from Palestrina’s “Crucem sanctam subiit” from 1569, or Example 7.4, from Animuccia’s “Missa Christe Redemptor” of 1567. Another feature of all these examples is the stronger harmonic sense, reinforced by a bass line which moves a lot in fourths and fifths. Now, it would be simplistic to claim that Lasso’s was the only influence which led to Animuccia and Palestrina adopting this new style. There were other models to hand for Roman composers: some of these textural features are already found in the music of Morales and, in particular, in that of Jacobus de Kerle, such as his Preces Speciales or his Sex Missae, both from 1562. Kerle was regularly in Rome between 1562 and 1565 in the 145

noel o’regan

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146

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employ of Cardinal Truchsess who, as we have seen, was a key mover in musical traffic.26 The most that can be said is that newer stylistic features of texture and harmony are found widely in Lasso’s publications from the early 1560s; some of this music was known and used in Rome and could well have helped show the way forward during those crucial few years immediately after the end of the Council of Trent. The esteem in which Lasso was 26

Ferdinand Siebert, Zwischen Kaiser und Papst: Kardinal Truchsess von Waldburg und die Anfänge der Gegenreformation in Deutschland (Berlin: Junker und Dünnhaupt Verlag, 1943), pp. 354–5. Truchsess had earlier accepted the dedication of Glarean’s controversial Dodecachordon in 1547 and was later to be the patron of Victoria and the dedicatee of his first book of motets in 1572.

147

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88

˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙. œ w

no

∑

w -

„

so - lus Do - mi - nus,

∑

san - ctus,

tu

„

∑

Ó ˙

˙ #˙ ˙ ˙

w

˙ tu˙

tu

so - lus

san - ctus,

tu

Quo

-

ni -

am

tu

so - lus

san - ctus,

tu

Quo

-

ni -

am

tu

so - lus

san - ctus,

Ó

˙ ˙

tu

so - lus Do - mi - nus,

tu

so - lus Do - mi - nus,

tu

so - lus Do - mi - nus,

so

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

-

Ó ˙

w

˙

w

w.

w.

˙

lus

al - tis

w ˙ ˙

˙

˙ -

˙.

si -

œ˙ ˙

w ˙. œ ˙

˙

tu

so - lus

al - tis - si -

tu

so - lus al - tis -

tu

so - lus al - tis

tu

Ó ˙

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙. œ

w

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ w tu

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w so - lus Do - mi - nus, ˙ ˙ ˙ . œ # ˙ . œ ˙ N tu˙ so˙ - lus˙ Do˙ . - miœ - nus, w Vb

? „ b

so - lus

am

w.

& b ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w

so - lus Do - mi - nus,

tu

bis. Quo - ni -

so - lus Do - mi - nus,

˙ . w ˙ œ Vb ˙

˙

w

bis.

˙ -

am

˙ ˙

w

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

bis. Quo - ni -

w.

„

∑

no

˙b ˙ w

se - re - re

∑

-

˙ ˙ #w

se - re - re

˙

no

˙

˙ w

Ó ˙

so - lus al - tis

w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙

-

si -

˙ ˙

˙. œ œœœœ -

w.

-

si -

˙ -

si -

Example 7.4: Giovanni Animuccia, “Gloria” from “Missa Christe Redemptor” (1567), mm. 83–93

already widely held, together with the memory of personal contact in the 1550s, would have added weight to any examples of his up-to-date music which might have reached Rome.

Polychoral music In the area of polychoral music the evidence for Lasso’s influence on Roman composers is more direct. In particular, three eight-voice pieces by Lasso are found, in a revised form, in the three related sets of Roman partbooks listed in Table 7.2. It appears that these pieces, together with others by 148

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e Palestrina and Marenzio, were rewritten in order that they could be performed by separated choirs.27 Clearly these pieces were known and admired in Roman circles. As stated above, “Deus misereatur nostri” is mentioned in the German College diaries in connection with the FortyHours Devotion – though we do not know which version was used. The presence of the revised versions in the Cappella Giulia partbooks is particularly significant. The first layer of these partbooks, which include the Lasso reworkings, was certainly compiled during Palestrina’s second period as maestro – most likely in 158428 – making it clear that the revisions were carried out with his approval. While he could have carried them out himself, the case for his student and colleague in the revision of plainsong, Annibale Zoilo, is stronger. Rn 77–88 has two of the three pieces written in a handwriting which has been identified as Zoilo’s;29 it is clear that the original Lasso versions were first written in and then altered by rubbing out and correcting over; some of the original notes can still be read. The same partbooks have two versions of Palestrina’s “Laudate Dominum omnes gentes” and Animuccia’s “Pater noster,” both the published versions from 1572 and 1570, respectively, and revised versions along the same lines as the Lasso pieces. The revision of Palestrina’s “Laudate Dominum” could surely only have been done with the composer’s sanction, if it was not actually carried out by himself. Such revisions for performance purposes by one composer of another’s music are certainly unusual (as opposed to the adding of an extra part, or parodying – both of which imply an act of homage or imitatio). The rewriting cannot be said to have improved these pieces: indeed, Wolfgang Boetticher was misled by this into thinking that the revised versions were in fact Lasso’s own earlier attempts.30 Why did Zoilo not simply write new set27

28

29

30

Noel O’Regan, “The Early Polychoral Music of Orlando di Lasso: New Light from Roman Sources,” Acta Musicologica, 56 (1984), p. 234. The paper includes examples of the alterations. There is a payment in the archives of the Cappella Giulia for the binding of twelve books of the chapel on 31 January 1584 which may well refer to this set, since no other set of twelve partbooks is known to have been in the chapel at this time. See Rostirolla, “La Cappella Giulia,” p. 273. The handwriting was identified by Lucia Navarrini. See her La musica di Annibale Zoilo (Florence: Tesi di laurea, Universita degli studi di Firenze, 1984). Wolfgang Boetticher, “Eine Frühfassung doppelchöriger Motetten Orlando di Lassos,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 12 (1955), p. 206.

149

noel o’regan tings of these texts? The revision process suggests homage of a different kind, a desire to keep highly regarded pieces in the repertory by bringing them up to date for the needs of the 1580s for full cori spezzati pieces. It also makes clear that these Lasso pieces were known in Rome in their original form and highly regarded – in particular by Zoilo and Palestrina. The motets were published in Paris and Venice in 1565 and 1566, respectively; we do not know when they first arrived in Rome. The most crucial stage of development for Roman polychoral music occurred between 1572 and 1575.31 Eight-voice pieces had been published by Giovanni Animuccia, Palestrina, and Victoria in 1570 and 1572; these were not properly polychoral since there was no consistent division into two choirs, but they had many of the features of that idiom. In 1575 Palestrina published the first Roman music for two harmonically independent choirs; Victoria partly adopted the new style in 1576 and composers such as Zoilo, Giovanni da Macque, and Annibale Stabile began to write in the new idiom shortly thereafter. This change could have been entirely indigenous, but it is natural to look for any antecedents from outside Rome which might have helped the process. The only non-Roman polychoral music found in Roman manuscripts which was composed before 1572 are the three pieces by Lasso listed above and two by Domenico Phinot,32 “Incipit oratio” and “Tanto tempore.” The Phinot pieces were first published in 1547, but are more likely to have reached Rome in the anthology RISM 15641. They do have some features which were to characterize Roman polychoral music, particularly in their use of antiphonal repetition by two largely independent choral groups, but they are still very much in the experimental stage. The original versions of the three Lasso pieces, on the other hand, do present many elements which could have influenced Palestrina in 1572 and 1575. Firstly, all three are psalm-motets, as were Palestrina’s four 1572 pieces and “Jubilate Deo” from the 1575 set (the other 1575 pieces also use sectionalized texts such as sequences or Marian antiphons). In the 1572 pieces Palestrina did not try to mark the divisions of his psalm-derived texts 31

32

See Noel O’Regan, “Sacred Polychoral Music in Rome 1575–1621,” unpublished D. Phil. diss., University of Oxford (1988). These are found in Rsc 792–5/Rn 117–121, which also contains the revised Lasso pieces.

150

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e into verses by musical means; his concern was more with the individual phrase or word, and with setting that as effectively as possible. He used his eight voices as a flexible palette, continually changing vocal grouping in response to the text. In 1575, on the other hand, he made his task easier by his use of distinct choirs on the Lasso model. From this point on, like Lasso (and the earlier salmi spezzati of Willaert and Jachet), he does observe the verse divisions and half-divisions by alternating choirs or by changing from single choir to tutti. Palestrina also invariably begins with an extended opening phrase for Choir I, something found in each of the three Lasso pieces, and a practice which was to continue in use by Roman composers of polychoral music up to the late 1580s. In one of the 1572 pieces, “Confitebor tibi,” Palestrina sets different syllables to consecutive semiminims, something very exceptional in his sacred music, though it was becoming widely used for text declamation in secular music (see Ex. 7.5). This can be seen in Lasso’s “Locutus sum in lingua mea” (see Ex. 7.2) and is common in his double-choir pieces, as in Example 7.6 from “In convertendo.” Younger Roman composers were much quicker to take up this sort of text declamation, as in Annibale Zoilo’s “Nunc dimittis” from the Cappella Giulia XIII 24 partbooks (see Ex. 7.7). The antiphonal fragmentation of the text seen in Example 7.6 is exactly what became common in Roman polychoral music from the 1580s onwards. On the more general stylistic level, in his eight-voice pieces from 1572, and even more so those from 1575, Palestrina moved closer to Lasso in using shorter melodic phrases with repeated notes and more harmonic bass lines, with more frequent cadences. These features occur even more prominently in the music of Zoilo, Giovanni da Macque and other Romebased composers of the late 1570s. Lasso’s brief visit to Rome in 1574 came right in the middle of this period of stylistic change in Roman polychoral music. While one can only speculate on what might have passed between the two composers, assuming that they met, the time would certainly have been right for an in-depth discussion of cori spezzati. Could this have centered around the three Lasso pieces with, perhaps, the composer even being consulted about their revision? Conditions in the old St. Peter’s Basilica were quite different from those at the Munich court chapel, and it was presumably this which forced the change to writing for independent choirs which could be separated by a 151

noel o’regan 1

Cantus 1

Con

Altus 1

-

&b „

fi - te -

w Vb ∑ Con

Bassus 1

?

w b ∑ Con

bor

-

fi - te

-

w w

w ˙

˙

te - bor

ti

-

fi

w w

-

fi

-

-

w.

˙

ti -

w w

› Con

Tenor 1

w.

›

w w

&b ›

bi

Do

˙ œœœœ˙

w

˙ ˙ w

bi

Do - mi - ne

bor

-

-

˙ ›

ti -

-

-

œœœœœœ˙

-

-

w œ œœœ ˙ w

te - bor

ti

-

-

-

mi - ne

∑

˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ #˙ w -

bi Do

˙

˙.

bi

Do

-

-

-

b œ˙ ˙ › -

mi - ne

mi - ne

Cantus 2

&b „

„

„

„

„

„

Altus 2

&b „

„

„

„

„

∑

˙. œ quo - ni -

Tenor 2

Bassus 2

Vb „

„

„

„

„

„

?

„

„

„

„

∑

b „

˙. œ quo - ni -

Example 7.5: Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, “Confitebor tibi” (1572), mm. 1–11

considerable distance. Apart from the harmonically independent bass lines, however, the Munich and Roman versions of the polychoral idiom have more in common than either has with the Venetian one – and this despite the known prolonged periods of residence in Munich by both Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli. In the area of musical imitation or parody there are a number of links between Lasso and Roman composers. Mention has already been made of the imitation Magnificat which he based on the model used by Palestrina in the mass sent from Rome to Munich in 1562. In 1589 he published a mass based on Palestrina’s madrigal “Io son ferito” (published in 1561 and also used by Palestrina himself as the basis of his “Missa Petra sancta”); Lasso also composed a Magnificat (published posthumously in 1619) on 152

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e 7

&b

›

„

„

›

„

con -

&b „ Vb ?

„

›

„

quo -

˙.

∑

œ œ œ ˙

˙

&b „

˙ ˙

w

quo - ni- am i - ra - tus es

mi

Ó ˙

˙

&b œ œ ˙ ˙

˙

w

am i - ra - tus

es

mi

Vb

˙. quo -

?

b

œ œ œ˙

w -

˙ ˙ ˙

ni- am i - ra - tus es

œ œ˙ ˙ am i - ra - tus

hi,

i -

˙

mi

mi

mi

-

-

-

w -

hi,

› -

hi,

w

∑

-

hi,

˙

˙.

œ œ œ˙

˙ ˙ Ó ˙

es

mi

-

w

con

-

∑

-

∑

hi,

-

con -

Ó ˙ con -

› -

mi

w

mi - hi,

˙ b› es

es

es

›

ra - tus

˙ œœ w

˙ w

˙

-

˙ ˙ w

ni- am i - ra - tus es

ni - am i - ra - tus

quo - ni- am i - ra - tus

˙. œ œ œ ˙

œ œ œ˙

œ œ œ˙ ˙

quo -

˙.

„

b „

˙.

„

-

hi,

„

∑

w con

-

Example 7.5: (cont.)

Giovanni Maria Nanino’s “Erano capei d’oro” (published in 1579). These show his familiarity with at least some secular music emanating from Rome. On the other hand, there are no reciprocal examples of Roman composers using works by Lasso as the basis of their compositions. Palestrina’s motet “Susanna ab improbis” uses the same opening material as Lasso’s “Susanne un jour” (the tenor of Didier Lupi Second’s eponymous chanson which was used for the very large corpus of settings of this text33) but there are no other obvious connections between the two pieces. In the absence of 33

See Kenneth J. Levy, “Susanne un jour: the History of a Sixteenth-Century Chanson,” Annales Musicologiques, 1 (1953), pp. 375–408, and David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation Munich (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), p. 177.

153

noel o’regan 19

&b

Cantus 1

˙ et

&b ˙

Altus 1

Vb

Tenor 1

&b &b

Altus 2

Vb

Tenor 2

?

Bassus 2

b

no -

œ œ ˙ lin - gua

˙ et

et

Cantus 2

lin - gua

et

? ˙ b

Bassus 1

œ œ ˙

no -

˙ stra

˙

œ œ

œ œ #˙

w

ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,

#œ œ

œ œ ˙

ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,

œ œ ˙

#˙

œ œ

lin - gua

stra

ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,

œ œ ˙ lin - gua

no -

˙ stra

„ „ „ „

œ œ

„

w

stra

no -

„

œ œ ˙ #w œ œ ˙

„ „

w

ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,

∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

Ó Ó Ó Ó

˙

œ œ ˙

et

lin- gua no - stra

˙

œ œ ˙

˙

œ œ ex - sul -

˙ nexœ - sulœ -

et

lin- gua no - stra

˙

œ œ ˙ #˙

œ œ

et

lin- gua no - stra

ex - sul -

˙

œ œ ˙

et

lin- gua no - stra

˙

œ œ ex - sul -

Example 7.6: Orlando di Lasso, “In convertendo” (1565), mm. 19–25 (CM, vol. 4, pp. 194–5)

Roman imitation masses or other works based on models by Lasso which might make a stronger case, the evidence for the Munich composer’s influence on Roman music is largely circumstantial. Yet, Lasso was undoubtedly the European composer of the 1560s and 1570s, and was seen as such throughout Europe; his esteem was underlined by the huge number of contemporary publications which included his works, by his decorations from both the emperor and the pope, and by his being awarded the first prize in the composers’ competition at Evreux on two occasions (1575 and 1583).34 More particularly, the evidence that his music was regularly 34

Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 52, 55.

154

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e 23

&b ∑

Ó

˙ <et

&b ∑

Ó

˙ et

Vb ∑

Ó

? ∑ b

Ó

˙

ta - ti - o

&b œ œ ˙ ta - ti - o

-

Vb œ œ ˙ ta - ti - o

? œ bœ ˙ b ta - ti - o

lin - gua

œ

œ œ


„

˙ no

n˙ Nœ -

œ #˙

˙

no

˙

no

˙ -

stra

˙ -

stra

˙

˙ no

stra

-

stra

œ

œ œ ˙

nw

ex - sul -

ta - ti - o -

œ

œ œ ˙

œ

ex - sul -

œ

œ

ex - sul -

œ

œ

ex - sul -

ta - ti - o

œ œ ˙I

ta - ti - o

œ œ ˙

w -

ne,

w -

ta - ti - o -

∑

ne,>

ne,

w ne,>

Ó

ne,

nw

„

∑

Ó

˙ <et

„

∑

Ó

ne,

ne,

˙ <et

ne,

w -

œ

œ

w -

lin - gua

lin - gua

w -

œ

et

et

& b œ œ #˙

#œ

n˙ et

„

∑

Ó

˙ et

Example 7.6: (cont.)

being sung, copied, reworked, and bought in Rome up to the 1590s testifies to a continued lively interest which must, in turn, have had at least some part in forming the newly developing styles of Roman composers in the decades after the Council of Trent.

155

noel o’regan 56

Cantus 1

&b

˙

œ œ #˙

Glo - ri - a

Altus 1

&b ˙

Tenor 1

Vb

˙

Bassus 1

Vb

˙

Cantus 2

&b „

˙

glo -

„

˙

glo -

„

&b „

˙

glo -

„

Vb „

Pa - tri,

glo -

˙

œ œ #˙ .

˙ ˙

Vb „

˙

Pa

-

œ œ ˙

Pa - tri,

Pa

œ œ ˙

Glo - ri - a

œ

œ ˙

tri,

et

œ œ et

œ

Fi

-

œ -

˙

tri,

et

œ œ

˙

Pa - tri,

et

Fi

Fi

-

œ œ ri - a

œ œ ri - a

œ œ ri - a

Ó Ó

li - o,

˙ -

ri - a

li - o,

œ œ œ. œ ˙ J

-

œ œ

li - o,

˙. Fi

˙

œ

œ œ ˙.

Glo - ri - a

Bassus 2

˙

∑

Glo - ri - a

Tenor 2

˙

∑

Glo - ri - a

Altus 2

˙

∑

Pa - tri,

œ œ ˙

Glo - ri - a

˙

∑

Pa - tri,

œ œ ˙

Glo - ri - a

„

Pa - tri,

œ œ ˙

Glo - ri - a

˙

li

˙ -

Ó

o,

Example 7.7: Annibale Zoilo, “Nunc dimittis” (Rvat Giul. XIII, 24), mm. 56–61

156

o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e

œ œ ˙

59

& b #˙ . Pa

-

tri,

Pa - tri,

˙. Pa

Vb ˙

Fi

œ œ œ.

&b ˙ Vb

et

-

et

-

li

Fi -

et

li - o,

Fi

œ œ ˙ et

Fi

-

œ œ œ J

œ œ œ œ.

tri,

Pa - tri,

œ

et

&b „

œ œ œ œ

o,

et

Spi - ri - tu - i

Spi - ri - tu

-

œ w J

-

li

œ

œ œ œ œ œ ˙.

-

-

-

-

et

œ œ ˙

o,

tu - i

„

et

Spi - ri -

San

#œ ˙

San

˙

i

San

Spi - ri -

œ œ œ œ

œ ˙

œ

Œ œ œ œ

li - o,

˙ -

˙.

-

˙

-

-

∑

Ó

cto,

œ œ ˙

˙

Ó

San - cto,

˙

˙ -

cto,

˙

tu - i

Ó

-

˙ -

Ó

cto,

˙

œ œ

glo - ri - a

&b „

„

∑

˙

œ œ

glo - ri - a

Vb „

„

∑

˙

œ œ

glo - ri - a

Vb „

„

∑

˙

œ œ

glo - ri - a

Example 7.7: (cont.)

157

8

Orlando di Lasso as a model for composition as seen in the three-voice motets of Jean de Castro ignace bossuyt

Orlando di Lasso may without a doubt be considered the most illustrious composer of the second half of the sixteenth century.Thanks to the internationalization of music publishing, his music enjoyed a degree of distribution previously unknown. It was, however, not so much the quantity and variety of his music that was praised by composers, theoreticians, and poets of the day, but rather its quality and especially its expressivity and humanity.1 It comes then as no surprise to find that innumerable composers held up“le plus que divin Orlande”(Pierre de Ronsard) as the ideal example to be emulated. The degree of intensity of this imitatio is astonishing, permeating the most diverse lands and all aspects of the compositional process. Some composers borrowed texts from Lasso’s motets. This is clear from the many cases where only one setting of a text exists other than his original. For example, Alexander Utendal (c. 1543/5–81), singer and Vice-Kapellmeister at the court of Archduke Ferdinand of Tyrol at Innsbruck, appropriated Lasso texts for two lighthearted secular motets,“Hispanum ad coenam” and “Deusquibonumvinumcreasti.”2 SomecomposersdrewfromspecificLasso collections for their own editions,either in imitation of the admired example or in competition with the master, or perhaps a bit of both. Utendal again provides a clear example: at the insistence of his patron, Ferdinand,the composer presented his Septem Psalmi poenitentiales (1570) as a kind of artistic 1

2

Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 264–96, notes more than fifty poems in Lasso’s honor. See also Bernhard Meier, “Orlandus Lassus im Urteil der Mit- und Nachwelt,” Orlandus Lassus 1532–1594, ed. Ignace Bossuyt, exhibition catalogue (Leuven: Fakulteit Letteren en Wijsbegeerte K. U. Leuven, 1982), pp. 61–6. Ignace Bossuyt, De componist Alexander Utendal (ca. 1543/45–1581). Een bijdrage tot de studie van de Nederlandse polyfonie in de tweede helft van de zestiende eeuw (Brussels: Koninklijke Academie van België, Klasse der Schone Kunsten, 1983), p. 92.

158

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n counterpart to the“secret”Penitential Psalms composed by Lasso about 1559 for Duke Albrecht of Munich. Utendal “outdid” his model by applying the new theory of the twelve modes, propagated by Henricus Glareanus (Dodecachordon, 1547), while Lasso had held to the old system of eight modes.3 Utendal’s second book of motets (1573) was also clearly inspired by Lasso’s 1566 Venetian collection (RISM 1566e), which was reprinted two years later within the Selectissimae Cantiones issued in Nuremberg by Theodor Gerlach,the publishing house for all of Utendal’s works.It is particularly striking that the 1566 and 1573 collections each begin with a setting of the opening words from the Gospel according to John, “In principio erat Verbum.”4 Another collection from that same year (1573), by Ivo de Vento, organist at the Bavarian court,also starts with a motet on this text.5 One of the most common examples of imitatio is the contrafactum technique. Besides the publication in Germany of German contrafacta based on Lasso’s French chansons,6 in France itself Lasso’s chansons were the preferred models for religious contrafacta made by the Huguenots. Their admiration for the musical qualities of his work was such that they chose to recast his dubious texts in order to adopt his music, rather than turn to other composers who had not lowered themselves to such scandalous ditties capable of sullying Christian ears and inciting youth to moral depravity.7 3

4 5

6

7

Ignace Bossuyt, “Die ‘Psalmi Poenitentiales’ (1570) des Alexander Utendal. Ein künstlerisches Gegenstück der Busspsalmen von O. Lassus und eine praktische Anwendung von Glareans Theorie der zwölf Modi,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 38 (1981), pp. 279–95. Concerning Lasso and the eight modes, see Georg Reichert, “Martin Crusius und die Musik in Tübingen um 1590,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 10 (1953), pp. 210–12, and Bernhard Meier, The Modes of Classical Vocal Polyphony Described According to the Sources, trans. Ellen Beebe (New York: Broude, 1988), pp. 30–1. Bossuyt, Alexander Utendal, pp. 97–8. August de Groote, “Ivo De Vento (ca. 1543/45–1575). Organist en componist in de kapel van Orlandus Lassus,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, p. 303. The collection Orlando di Lasso etliche ausserlessne/kurtze/gute geistliche und weltliche Liedlein mit 4 Stimmen/so zuvor in Frantzösischer Sprach aussgangen, compiled by the singer Johann Pühler and published in 1582 by Adam Berg in Munich (RISM 1582l). Bossuyt, “Orlandus Lassus (1532–1594) en het contrafact,” De zeventiende eeuw (1989), pp. 190–7, and Richard Freedman, “Divins accords: The Lassus Chansons and their Protestant Readers of the Late Sixteenth Century,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 273–94.

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i g nac e b o s s u y t The most current imitatio practice was that of the so-called parody, in which a secular or a sacred composition served as the point of departure for the composition of a mass. Here again Lasso’s multifaceted oeuvre was an almost inexhaustible source of inspiration.At least eighty masses were composed on Lasso’s models.8 Less common was the process of “reworking,” in which a composition originally written for four or more voices was “arranged” for three. This imitatio technique seems to have enjoyed a remarkable vogue amongst the nobility and the well-off bourgeoisie in Antwerp. A crucial year in the history of the tricinium was 1569, when in a single burst of activity the Leuven publisher Pierre Phalèse published no fewer than seven collections of Latin motets and French chansons for three voices. One of these editions was devoted solely to the motets and chansons of GérardVan Turnhout,master of the music at the Cathedral of Our Blessed Lady in Antwerp; the collection is dedicated to Adriaen Dyck, chief clerk of the city (Sacrarum ac aliarum cantionum trium vocum . . . Liber unus).9 The six other collections consist of two series of anthologies, each comprising three books: three with motets (Selectissimarum Sacrarum Cantionum (quas vulgo motetas vocant) flores, trium vocum) and three with chansons (Recueil des Fleurs produictes de la divine musicque a trois parties, par Clemens non Papa, Thomas Cricquillon, et aultres excellens musiciens).10 The first motet from the first part of the anthology,“Ad te levavi oculos,” is by Jean de Castro. With six of the eighteen works to his name, he is the best-represented composer and, surprisingly, the least famous, surrounded by such renowned figures as Thomas Crequillon, Hubert Waelrant, and Cornelius 8

9

10

Stefan Coninx, “De parodiemissen op composities van Orlandus Lassus (1532–1594),” unpublished licentiate thesis, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven (1984). Around twenty-two to twenty-five of these masses (a few are “doubtful”) are by Lasso himself. Available in a modern edition in Recent Researches in the Music of the Renaissance, 9–10 (Madison: A-R Editions, 1970), ed. Lavern J. Wagner. For the complete contents, see Henri Vanhulst, Catalogue des Editions de musique publiées à Louvain par Pierre Phalèse et ses fils 1545–1578 (Brussels: Académie Royale de Belgique, Classe des Beaux Arts, 1990), pp. 142–9. The “Premier Livre” of the anthology of French chansons is a partial and slightly reworked reprint of an edition of three-part chansons and motets from 1562 (Premier Livre du Recueil des Fleurs produictes de la divine musicque a trois parties par Clemens non Papa Thomas Cricquillon & aultres excellens Musichiens). However, no sequel appeared in the following years. Cf. ibid., pp. 80–1.

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l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n Canis, each of whom has but one work, and Clemens non Papa with only two. De Castro does not appear in the second part, while the third includes one of his motets. The first part of the chanson anthology is almost completely dominated by the names of Clemens and Crequillon, but in the two following parts de Castro does reappear with two and six works respectively. By placing the newcomer Castro among the more established names, Phalèse clearly reduced his financial risk,although the publisher did venture to give Castro the place of honor in the first part of the motet anthology. He did not, however, risk putting Castro’s first complete collection on the market; this appeared later in that same year (1569) in Antwerp under the title, Di Iean Castro Il primo libro di madrigali, canzoni & motetti a tre voci. At that moment there happened to be no publisher of renown active in Antwerp. Tielman Susato had left the city in 1561; his son Jacob was able to produce only one edition, in 1564, before he died later that same year. Christopher Plantin had not yet ventured to print polyphony; only in 1578 did he see such repertory as a moneymaker. Jean de Laet, who had started publishing music together with Hubertus Waelrant in 1554, had died in 1566. When in 1569 Jean de Castro wanted to create a name for himself as a composer in Antwerp, his only available recourse was to Laet’s widow, Elisabeth Saen, who published a further ten books after the death of her husband, only three of which were given over to music. One of the latter was Castro’s debut.11 The fact that this work was not published by Phalèse, at the time the leading music publisher in the Low Countries, may have had several causes. In the first place, it would appear that Phalèse was not overly keen on untried talent. He was more likely to build on the fame of wellknown composers whose work had already appeared in Antwerp or abroad. He left the discovery of new faces to others.12 Secondly, until then Phalèse had yet to publish a single madrigal; he seems to have resisted the genre, fearing his clientele was not familiar enough with Italian.13 Thirdly, it was fitting that the collection should appear in Antwerp, since the dedicatee, Giovanni Giacomo Fiesco, had been active there as a trader representing the 11

13

See the introduction by Saskia Willaert and Katrien Derde to Jean de Castro, Opera Omnia, vol. 3, Il primo libro di madrigali, canzoni e motetti a tre voci (1569), ed. Ignace Bossuyt, Henri Vanhulst et al. (Leuven: Leuven University 12 Vanhulst,Catalogue, p. xxxvii. Press, 1995), p. 10. Ibid., p. xxxi.

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i g nac e b o s s u y t Genoese Nation, an influential commercial and financial presence in the city since 1530. Together with the south German merchants and bankers – especially the Fugger family from Augsburg – the Genoese were the main financiers (the so-called asentistas) to the Spanish crown, supporting the power of both Charles V and Philip II in the Low Countries, especially by bankrolling the Spanish troops stationed in the region.14 Castro’s first product shows remarkable parallels with another Antwerp debut fourteen years previously, Susato’s edition of Le quatoirsiesme livre a quatre parties contenant dixhuyct chansons italiennes, six chanson francoises, & six motetz . . . par Rolando di Lassus (RISM 1555a), which was reissued in that same year as D’Orlando di Lassus il Primo Libro dovesi contengono Madrigali, Vilanesche, Canzoni francesi e Motetti a quattro voci (RISM 1555b). Like Castro’s collection, Lasso’s includes a dedication in Italian addressed to a leading member of the Genoese Nation, the nobleman-merchant Stefano Gentile. The contents are also similar: Italian works (Lasso included villanesche along with madrigals) are followed in both collections by French chansons and then Latin motets. Around this same period Philippe de Monte was also able to count on the protection of a Genoese figure of stature, Giovanni Grimaldi, to whom the composer dedicated his third book of six-voice madrigals in 1576.15 The names of Gentile, Fiesco, and Grimaldi are regularly found mentioned together in official documents.16 Both Gentile and Grimaldi were praised by their contemporaries for more than their purely commercial activities: literature and music were also close to their heart. These and other Italian merchants and traders clearly played more than a marginal role in the spread of Renaissance culture in the Low Countries.17 Castro’s three-voice debut comprised twelve madrigals, thirteen chansons, and eight motets. All the motets in the collection and eight of the 14

15

16 17

Willaert and Derde, Castro, Opera Omnia, vol. 3, p. 11. See also Willaert and Derde, “Het mecenaat van de Genuese natie in Antwerpen in de tweede helft van de 16de eeuw,” Orlandus Lassus en Antwerpen 1554–1556, exhibition catalogue (Antwerp: Stad Antwerp, 1994), pp. 47–56. Cf. Brian Mann, The Secular Madrigals of Filippo di Monte 1521–1603 (Ann Arbor, Mich.: University Microfilms, 1983), pp. 4–5. The dedication to Grimaldi is reproduced on p. 426. Willaert and Derde, Castro, Opera Omnia, vol. 3, p. 11. Karel Bostoen, Dichterschap en Koopmanschap in de zestiende eeuw. Omtrent de dichters Guillaume de Poetou en Jan vander Noot, Deventer Studiën 1 (Deventer: Sub Rosa Deventer, 1987), pp. 163–5.

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l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n thirteen chansons (but none of the madrigals) also appeared shortly thereafter in the same year (1569) in the Phalèse anthology mentioned above. Castro’s work, including the madrigals, must have made more than a passing impression on Phalèse, for a year later, in 1570, he devoted a complete edition to Castro, this time complementing the chansons with madrigals, even placing them first in the collection – although he cautiously gave the chansons top billing in the title (Chansons et madrigales a quatre parties . . . par Maistre Iean de Castro). It was at the same time Castro’s first collection of four-voice works. The collaboration with Phalèse seems to have proceeded smoothly, for one year later a collection of five-voice motets made its appearance (with an eight-voice motet at its close): Sacrarum cantionum quinque et octo vocum . . . Liber unus. Ioanne de Castro Autore. A new set of tricinia, this time all motets, appeared in 1574 (Ioannis a Castro Musici Celeberrimi Triciniorum Sacrorum . . . Liber unus). Phalèse even turned to Castro when putting together two extensive collections of chansons, one for three voices (a form which had become something of a Castro speciality), and one for four voices. These collections appeared respectively in 1574 and 1575 as La Fleur des Chansons a trois parties, contenant un recueil, produit de la divine musique de Iean Castro, Severin Cornet, Noë Faignient, & autres excellens Aucteurs and Livre de Meslanges contenant un recueil de chansons a quatre parties, choisy des plus excellens aucteurs de nostre temps, par Iean Castro Musicien. In La Fleur no fewer than forty of the ninety-one works are by Castro; in Livre de Meslanges Castro accounts for nineteen of the seventy-three works.18 The highlight of Castro’s Leuven editions was without a doubt the 1576 collection of four-, five-, and eightvoice chansons on texts by Pierre de Ronsard (Chansons, odes et sonetz de Pierre Ronsard, mises en musique a quatre, a cinq et huit parties, par Iean de Castro),19 with which Castro joined the Ronsard vogue of the 1570s.20 18

19

20

For a complete table of contents, see Vanhulst, Catalogue, pp. 206–8 and 214–16. Both collections also include a number of madrigals. Modern edition by Jeanice Brooks in Recent Researches in the Music of the Renaissance, 97 (Madison: A-R Editions, 1994). Cf. Ignace Bossuyt, “Jean de Castro: Chansons, odes et sonetz de Pierre Ronsard,” Revue de musicologie, 74 (1988), pp. 173–88. Phalèse approached Castro to reorganize the contents of the 1576 edition of the Septiesme livre des chansons, according to Rudolf Rasch, “The ‘Livre septiesme’,” Atti del XIV Congresso della Società Internazionale di Musicologia, Bologna 27. Aug.–1. Sept.1987, ed. Angelo Pompilio et al. (Turin: Edizioni di Torino, 1990), vol. 1, pp. 306–18. In the previous year, 1575, Phalèse had published the Sonetz de Pierre de Ronsard

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i g nac e b o s s u y t The year 1576 was also to mark the end of Castro’s first Antwerp period. He had been attracted to the international economic metropolis in the 1560s because of the presence of wealthy, art-loving patrons. These seem to have seen him as a promising composer worthy of generous support, if we consider that (like Lasso) he made his debut with a complete collection rather than merely a few compositions in an anthology. Like Lasso in 1554–6, Castro did not hold a permanent position while in Antwerp (editions mention him simply as “musicien” or “musicus celeberrimus”), although he likely aspired to one. In September 1556 Lasso had acquired a steady job as a tenor at the Bavarian court in Munich, thanks to the mediation of Johann Jakob Fugger and Bishop Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle, to whom he had dedicated his first collection of motets, the socalled Antwerp Motet Book, earlier that same year.21 Although Lasso’s ultimate success probably resulted from his much greater ambition, this appointment in Munich was a crucial turn of events in launching a brilliant international career as a composer. Castro was less fortunate, probably in part as a result of the difficult political and religious circumstances: in 1576, ten years after the infamous iconoclastic fury, Antwerp was violently shaken by the plundering of the Spanish soldiers (the so-called Spanish Fury), which caused an immediate and massive flight of the city’s population. Castro fled via Germany to Lyons, where he had friends. One of these was Justinien Pense, a wealthy carpet-merchant, for whom in 1570–1, while Pense was visiting Antwerp, Castro had composed a set of four- and fivevoice chansons on texts by Pense himself.22 It is worth noting that the luxurious manuscript, of which unfortunately only the soprano and bass partbooks survive, was copied by Jean Pollet, once Lasso’s copyist, who among other things had succeeded in smuggling to the Low Countries a

21

22

by Philippe de Monte, a reprint of Le Roy and Ballard’s Paris edition of the same year. See Vanhulst, Catalogue, pp. 212–14. Ignace Bossuyt, “Lassos erste Jahre in München (1556–1559): eine ‘cosa non riuscita’? Neue Materialen aufgrund unveröffentlichter Briefe von Johann Jakob Fugger, Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle und Orlando di Lasso,” Festschrift für Horst Leuchtmann zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Stephan Hörner and Bernhold Schmid (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1993), pp. 55–67. Jeanice Brooks, “Jean de Castro, the Pense Partbooks and Musical Culture in Sixteenth-Century Lyons,” Early Music History, 11 (1992), pp. 91–149.

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l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n copy of Lasso’s “secret” Penitential Psalms.23 On the death (premature, it would seem) of Pollet’s wife, the Delft native Sara, Castro composed a three-voice elegy, “Uxor Joannis Pollet Sara,” which appeared in the 1574 collection of Latin tricinia. The circumstances of this composition suggest that Lasso’s motet,“Praesidium Sara,” may well have been an epithalamium for the marriage of his copyist, Jean Pollet; this would seem to draw further together the lives of the two composers, even if they in fact never met.24 In any case, as composers they were very alike, chiefly because Castro’s tricinia were so often inspired by Lasso’s models. The three-voice reworkings of Lasso’s compositions, written during his Antwerp period, may be seen as an indication of Lasso’s popularity. First in influence were the chansons, followed by the motets and then the madrigals. Between 1569 and 1575 Castro composed no fewer than thirty-one chansons on the basis of Lasso’s models. Of the thirteen chansons in his 1569 debut collection, nine are based on Lasso. The others appeared in the 1574 anthology cited above, La Fleur des chansons à trois parties, and in the Livre de chansons nouvellement composé, à troys parties, Castro’s Paris debut in 1575, an edition prepared by Le Roy and Ballard. In each collection, eleven of the chansons are adaptations of compositions by Lasso.25 Although Castro’s three-voice chansons continued to appear regularly after 1575, there were to be no more arrangements. For the three-voice madrigals precisely the opposite is true: from the earliest works in 1569 right up to his last collection in 1591, a Venetian edition published by Amadino, Castro held fast to the technique of reworking. Here Lasso hardly makes an appearance; in the initial Antwerp edition of 1569, not one of the twelve madrigals originates with Lasso, as is also the case with the Madrigali 23

24

25

Ignace Bossuyt, “The Copyist Jan Pollet and the Theft in 1563 of Orlandus Lassus’ ‘Secret’ Penitential Psalms,” From Ciconia to Sweelinck. Donum Natalicium Willem Elders, ed. A. Clement and E. Jas (Amsterdam and Atlanta: Rodopi, 1994), pp. 261–7. Ignace Bossuyt, “Lassos Motette ‘Praesidium Sara.’ Ein epithalamium für seinen Kopisten Jean Pollet?” Musik in Bayern 54 (1997), pp. 107–12. Ignace Bossuyt, “Jean de Castro and his Three-part Chansons Modelled on Four- and Five-Part Chansons by Orlando di Lasso. A Comparison,” Orlando di Lasso in der Musikgeschichte. Bericht über das Symposion der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften München, 4–6 July 1994, ed. Bernhold Schmid (Munich: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), pp. 25–67.

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i g nac e b o s s u y t . . . a tre voci of 1588 (Antwerp, P. Phalèse and J. Bellère), and Rose fresche . . . madrigali novi . . . a tre voci of 1591 (Venice, R. Amadino). Lasso provided the model for only two of Castro’s three-voice madrigals, the lone Castro madrigal in the anthology La Fleur des Chansons of 1574 (“Voi ch’ascoltate”) and one of the four madrigals from his Second livre de chansons madrigals et motetz à trois parties of 1580 (Paris, Le Roy and Ballard), where he harks back to the sestina “Standomi un giorno.” For his madrigals, Castro seems to have preferred as models Rore (for his 1569 debut), the three famed Antwerp madrigal anthologies of 1583 and 1585 (Harmonia celeste, Musica divina, and Symphonica angelica, all reflected in Castro’s Madrigali . . . a tre voci of 1588), and Luca Marenzio (in Rose fresche of 1591). Very likely the personal preference of the dedicatees might also have played a deciding role in these choices.26 As with the French chansons, Castro’s borrowing of Lasso’s motets was limited to the first few collections. In his first edition, two of the eight motets are based on Lasso models: “Veni in hortum meum” and “In te, Domine, speravi.” Here Castro tended to borrow compositions from an earlier generation, with a preference for Clemens non Papa (four motets), while Crequillon and Rore are each the source for one motet.27 Lasso does hold the place of honor in Castro’s first collection devoted completely to three-voice motets, the Triciniorum sacrorum . . . liber unus, a Phalèse edition of 1574. Lasso’s works are the models for twelve of the twenty-three motets:28 “BenedicamDominum in omni tempore,” “Ubi est Abel,” “Tribus miraculis,” “Surgens Jesus,” “Surrexit pastor bonus,” “Confundantur superbi,” “Fertur in conviviis,” “Exaudi Domine,” “Angelus ad pastores,” “Fulgebunt justi,” “Verba mea auribus percipe,” and “Legem pone mihi.” Clemens remains clearly in evidence with three motets, and even Josquin 26

27

28

J. Lanssens,”De driestemmige madrigalen van Jean de Castro,” unpublished licentiate thesis, Leuven (1997), pp. 15–17. From Clemens non Papa: “Venit vox de caelo,” “Qui consolabatur me,” “Pater peccavi,” and “Maria Magdalena”; from Crequillon: “Nigra sum”; from Rore: “Ad te levavi.” See Ignace Bossuyt and Saskia Willaert, “Jean de Castro’s Il Primo Libro di Madrigali, Canzoni e Motetti,” in Eugeèn Schreurs and Henri Vanhulst, eds., Music Fragments and Manuscripts in the Low Countries. Alta Capella. Music Printing in Antwerp and Europe in the 16th Century. Yearbook of the Alamire Foundation 2 (Leuven-Peer: Alamire, 1997), pp. 333–51. A modern edition with an extensive introduction by Saskia Willaert and Katrien Derde forms vol. 4 of Jean de Castro, Opera omnia. The tricinia are followed by two four-part motets.

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l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n Desprez makes an appearance.29 As in the later French chansons, the technique of borrowing is no longer used in the later collections of three-part motets, the Second livre de chansons madrigals et motetz a trois parties of 1580 and the two late editions from the 1590s (Cantiones aliquot sacrae trium vocum of 1593 and Trium vocum cantiones aliquot sacrae of 1596). At first it might seem surprising that Lasso emerges as the central figure only in 1574 and not in 1569, when he had already achieved international fame. The Castro editions suggest that Lasso’s motets began to enjoy renown in the Low Countries only at the beginning of the 1570s, mainly due to the Leuven editions of Pierre Phalèse. The following offers an overview of the editions of Lasso’s motets published by Phalèse, the most authoritative music publisher in the southern Netherlands from the 1560s on: (1) In 1564 the chanson collection Quatriesme livre des chansons . . . par Orlando di Lassus (RISM 1564d) was supplemented with four madrigals and three motets (the drinking song “Fertur in conviviis,” the moralizing “Quid prodest stulto,” and “Pater peccavi,” taken from the parable of the Prodigal Son). Two of Lasso’s works were incorporated into the second edition of the highly successful anthology Septiesme livre des chansons à quatre parties: the chanson “Soyons joyeux” and the motet “Fertur in conviviis.” The motets “Fertur in conviviis” and “Pater peccavi” were dropped from the modified reprints of the Quatriesme livre, RISM 1567c and 1570g. Neither piece would again be included in the many reprints of the Septiesme livre which were to follow.30 (2) In 1566 the liturgical cycle Sacrae Lectiones novem ex Propheta Job quatuor vocum . . . autore Orlando Lasso (RISM 1566f) was published, supplemented by five motets.31 (3) In 1569 the interest in Lasso clearly increased with the publication 29

30

31

From Josquin: “Benedicta es”; from Clemens: “Videns Jacob,” “Rex autem David,” and “Verbum iniquum.” In a few sources “Verbum iniquum” is attributed to Thomas Crequillon; cf. H. Lowen Marshall, The Four-Voice Motets of Thomas Crecquillon, vol. 1, The Motets – A Critical Study (Brooklyn: Institute of Medieval Music, 1970), p. 19. The first edition of the Septiesme livre (1560) includes no pieces by Lasso. See Vanhulst, Catalogue, pp. 82–4, 114–16, and passim, and idem, “Un succès de l’édition musicale: le Septiesme livre des chansons a quatre parties (1560–1661/63),” Belgisch Tijdschrift voor Muziekwetenschap/Revue Belge de Musicologie, 32–3 (1978–9), pp. 97–120. These Sacrae Lectiones had been published the previous year in Venice by Gardano and in Paris by Le Roy and Ballard.

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i g nac e b o s s u y t of two collections of four-part motets (none the less shared with Cypriano de Rore): Liber primus . . . and Liber secundus sacrarum cantionum quatuor vocum . . . Auctoribus Orlando di Lassus. Cypriano de Rore (RISM 15697 and 15698). Book 1 includes seven motets by Lasso and four by Rore, while Book 2 has nine by Lasso and five by Rore. (4) The definitive breakthrough came only in 1571–2, when Phalèse published three collections devoted exclusively to Lasso, all of which were reprints of editions which had appeared in Paris in 1571: Primus liber modulorum quinis vocibus, Moduli quinis vocibus, and Secundus liber modulorum quinis vocibus (RISM 1571d, 1571b, and 1572e). These were also Phalèse’s first editions of Lasso’s five-voice motets. (5) Starting in 1574, the year of Castro’s Latin tricinia, there followed reprints of various parts of the Patrocinium Musices and an edition of Lasso’s only book of three-voice motets (RISM 1575c).32 These publications would no longer influence Castro’s work. We may conclude from this overview that before his debut in 1569 it would have been difficult for Castro to get his hands on Lasso’s motets in an edition from the Low Countries. By 1574 the situation had changed completely: Castro could draw freely from the three Phalèse editions issued in 1571 and 1572 (ten of the twelve motets based on Lasso appear in these Leuven editions; for one of the motets, “Verba mea auribus percipe,” Moduli quinis vocibus is in fact the earliest source). It is very likely that these editions were his main source, even if it is impossible to rule out his awareness of other foreign editions.33 None the less, the relatively modest presence of Lasso’s works as models in Castro’s 1569 debut suggests that the promising composer was not yet familiar with Lasso’s motets. The intense 32 33

See Vanhulst, Catalogue, passim. Possibly the Primus liber concentuum sacrorum, a 1564 Paris edition from Le Roy and Ballard, which was sold through Christopher Plantin in Antwerp. Plantin sold only one of a very few copies which had been ordered for certain customers. See Henri Vanhulst, “Suppliers and Clients of Christopher Plantin, Distributor of Polyphonic Music in Antwerp (1566–1578),” Musicology and Archival Research. Musicologie et recherches en archives. Musicologie en archiefonderzoek, ed. Barbara Haggh, F. Daelemans, and A. Vanrie. Archives et Bibliothèques de Belgique. Archief- en Bibliotheekwezen in België. Extranummer – Numéro special 46 (Brussels: Algemeen Rijksarchief Brussel/ Archives Générales du Royaume, Brussels, 1994), pp. 558–604.

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l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n interest in Lasso in 1574 may actually have been stimulated by Castro’s collaboration with Lasso’s former copyist, Jean Pollet (see above). The motet “Fertur in conviviis” deserves special mention. Castro may already have known the work from Phalèse’s Quatriesme livre and Septiesme livre, both from 1564. It would seem, however, that for this work too, Castro consulted a later source: Phalèse’s Liber secundus from 1569, one of the collections with four-voice motets by Lasso and Rore.A number of textual variants not found in the 1564 version but which show up in Castro seem clearly to point to the 1569 edition.34 It is striking that this is the only composition that Castro borrowed from the two 1569 Lasso–Rore editions. It is also the only four-voice Lasso motet that he adapted; all the rest have five or six voices. Moreover, he introduced his own rather major text variant into this drinking song; the verse “Et plus quam ecclesiam diligam tabernam” (And more than the church do I love the tavern) is modified to “Et plus quam rem medicam diligam tabernam”(And more than healing medicines do I love the tavern). This could be intended as an inside joke shared with the nobleman and military figure, Charles de Melun, to whom the 1574 Latin tricinia were dedicated and who, according to a number of sources, fell ill often and suffered from gout.35 Castro’s three-part adaptations of Lasso’s four- to six-voice motets are no mere reductions of the originals, but intriguing works in their own right, in which he shows evidence of a strong personal engagement as composer. Generally speaking, the reworked pieces correspond to the originals in three ways: (1) The clefs of the tricinia match the three highest clefs from the model; the combinations are either c1–c3–c4, or g2–c2–c3. The exceptions are two motets in the 1569 edition, “Veni in hortum meum” (Lasso c1–c3–c4–c4–f4, Castro g2–c2–c3) and “In te, Domine, speravi” (Lasso g2– g2–c2–c3–c3–f3, Castro g2–c1–c3). (2) The division into partes is identical, except in “Fertur in conviviis” (Lasso uses only double barlines, with no indication of partes). (3) The mode is maintained, with the exception of “Veni in hortum 34

35

See Bernhold Schmid, “Lasso’s ‘Fertur in conviviis’: On the History of its Text and Transmission” in the present volume. My thanks to Dr. Schmid for permitting me to consult his work prior to publication. See the Introduction to Jean de Castro, Opera omnia, vol. 4, pp. 10–12.

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i g nac e b o s s u y t Table 8.1 Comparison of mode and final in Lasso motets and Castro motets based on them Finalis: Lasso Castro 1569 Veni in hortum meum

G

G

In te, Domine, speravi 2a p. Quoniam fortitudo

G C

C C

D G G G G C C C D G

D G D G G C C C D G C G C D G G D G C F

1574 Benedicam Dominum in omni tempore 2a p. In Domino laudabitur Gustate et videte 2a p. Divites eguerunt Ubi est Abel Tribus miraculis Surgens Jesus Surrexit pastor bonus Confundantur superbi 2a p. Fiat cor meum Fertur in conviviis 2a p. Potatores incliti 3a p. Et plus quam rem Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam 2a p. Ne avertas faciem tuam Angelus ad pastores ait Verba mea auribus percipe 2a p. Quoniam ad te orabo Legem pone mihi 2a p. Da mihi intellectum

C D G G D G C F

Mode Lasso: mode 2 (b-flat) Castro: mode 1 (b-flat) mode 6 (b-natural)

mode 8 mode 8 mode 7 mode 6 (b-natural) mode 6 (b-natural) mode 6 (b-natural) mode 7

mode 6 (b-natural) mode 2 (b-flat) mode 2 (b-flat) mode 1 (b-flat) mode 5

meum,” which is transposed from the second to the first mode as a result of its higher clef combination. While Castro’s chansons and madrigals sometimes end on a note other than the finalis (usually the fifth), this is not the case in the motets. The only deviation is the conclusion of the prima pars of “In te, Domine, speravi” (G in Lasso, C in Castro). (See Table 8.1.) The essentials of Castro’s working methods can best be shown by a few representative examples. Literal borrowing from the model, in the form of “vertical citations” – the basic procedure in parody masses – occurs rarely. Castro takes as his point of departure a theme similar if not identical to 170

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n Lasso’s original, and then proceeds to construct a new musical argument. Generally speaking, the model is clearly recognizable in the exordium, although he sometimes withholds an explicit reference until a few measures have passed. In the initial entries of “Surgens Jesus” (Ex. 8.1), “Surrexit pastor bonus” (Ex. 8.2), and“Angelus ad pastores ait” (Ex. 8.3), the melodic borrowing is abundantly clear. In contrast, the motets “Gustate et videte” (Ex. 8.4) and“Tribus miraculis” (Ex. 8.5) begin without a particularly striking relationship to the model, but similarities soon enough make themselves evident. The descending three-note motive (g⬘–e⬘–d⬘ in the cantus) on the word “Gustate” is borrowed directly from the cantus in mm. 6–7 of Lasso’s motet; only in the second half of m. 4 does Castro take up Lasso’s opening motive (g⬘–a⬘–b⬘–g⬘–b⬘–d⬙ with the cadence). The similarity to the original at the beginning of“Tribus miraculis”is again less than obvious, until the entry of Lasso’s cantus appears in mm.7–9 (c⬙–e⬙–f⬙–d⬙–c⬙). A comparison of a few clearly similar fragments, such as the openings of “Surgens Jesus,” “Surrexit pastor bonus,” and “Angelus ad pastores ait,” immediately reveals a number of striking differences which also show up in the other works. Castro’s melismatic lines are generally more jagged and less flowing than Lasso’s. These somewhat angular contours are partially the result of frequent octave leaps (Ex. 8.1b, cantus, mm. 1–2), making these melismas – which tend to be designed to function as text expression – more exuberant and emphatic than Lasso’s, even if perhaps less expansive (as on the word “Surgens”). Castro’s desire for a mode of expression even stronger and more direct than Lasso’s is also evident in his transformation of syllabic delivery into melisma (as in “Surrexit pastor bonus,”Ex. 8.2b). A second striking difference is the frequent use of accidentals in Castro’s work, which often leads to cross-relations and rapid alternation between chords with major and minor thirds. A typical example is the opening of “Angelus ad pastores ait” (Ex. 8.3). In Lasso’s exordium the only accidental, apart from the b  in the key signature, is the f  in the final chord; Castro uses both b  and b, as well as f and f  (the latter not only in the final chord). Thirdly, Castro strives more than Lasso for simultaneous rhythmic contrasts through the layering of extremely different note values, as on the word “stans” in “Surgens Jesus” (Ex. 8.1b; compare with Lasso, Ex. 8.6). Castro will often combine a long note and a melismatic passage. Examples 171

i g nac e b o s s u y t (a)

˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

& 24 ˙ . 1

Sur

4 &2

-

-

-

-

œ œ œ ˙.

-

-

∑

-

œ œ œ œ œ

-

-

-

-

w

-

-

-

∑

∑

˙

˙. Sur

4 &2

∑

∑

˙.

Sur

˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

-

-

-

-

-

-

gens,

sur

-

-

-

-

˙

-

-

-

-

Je

˙

gens

Je

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

∑

∑

∑

∑

∑

? 24

∑

∑

∑

∑

∑

6

-

˙

&

-

-

w

gens

˙

˙

sus,

sur

-

-

-

& ˙.

-

-

-

-

sur

Sur

-

-

-

?

-

gens

Je

-

-

-

-

∑

-

1

-

-

∑

Sur

4 &2

Sur

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

∑

&

˙

w

gens

Ie

& ˙ gens

V w gens 11

&

˙ -

˙

Ie

sus

w

˙

sus

w

Ie

˙. ˙.

Do

Ó

-

-

w sus

W

-

-

-

-

w

Do

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

˙

no

˙

˙

-

-

-

˙

mi - nus

˙

-

-

-

-

gens,

sur

nus

-

-

œ œ ˙

œ œ ˙

-

in

me

œ -

˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ

di

-

-

sus,

˙.

œœ˙

-

-

˙

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

w

o,

stans

in

#˙

in

œ w

me

di

di - o

#œ œ ˙

me - di - o

˙

-

-

œ œ ˙.

n

w

-

stans

˙. me

˙

-

stans,

ster,

w

˙

œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ Ó

ster,

w

˙

-

˙

-

-

˙

˙

o

dis

˙ -

ci

Example 8.1: (a) Lasso, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 1–9; (b) Castro, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 1–14

172

-

œ œ œ œ œ œ

-

-

W œ ˙

sus,

stans

in

˙ Ó & w stans œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ V

-

W

-

W

-

-

˙ -

gens

w

-

œ

no - ster,

-

-

˙

œ œ œ œ œ œ

sur

w

˙

-

-

˙

-

˙.

-

w

Je

˙

gens,

-

w

˙

-

-

-

Je

gens

˙

˙

œ œ w

no

-

-

˙ -

w

˙ -

-

˙ œ œ œ œ

˙

˙ -

sur

œ œ œ œ ˙

-

-

gens, sur

˙

-

mi

˙

˙

-

˙ -

˙ -

sus,

gens

œ ˙

sur

-

œ œ

˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ

˙.

Do

-

-

-

w

Ó

mi - nus

-

˙

-

-

mi - nus,

œ ˙ -

-

-

-

œ œ œ œ ˙

j œ œ œ œ ˙ œ. œ ˙ sus, œ œ œ ˙ ˙. ˙

˙

œ

gens,

-

sur

œ œ œ ˙. sur œ œ œ œ w

˙ gens, ˙

-

œ ˙ -

-

-

Ó

Je

-

˙

-

œ œ œ

˙. Do

-

-

-

sus,

-

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙

Sur 6

œ ˙

-

œ œ œ ˙

˙.

V 24

-

-

˙.

˙.

œ œ œ œ

˙

-

w

-

Sur

4 &2 Ó

-

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ - gens . ˙ œ œ œ œ œ

-

œ œ œ œ œ

V ˙.

-

-

œ œ

œœ˙

sus,

-

˙

œ ˙

œ œ ˙.

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙

œ œ

Je

˙

œ œ ˙

-

œ ˙

œ œ œ œ w

œ œ

gens

-

œ œ ˙.

œ œ œ œ œ

œ œœ ˙

-

-

4 V2

& œ œœ˙

(b)

-

˙

œ œ ˙

œ œ

˙ -

pu

-

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n (a)

4 &2 w 1

w

Sur - re

4 &2 ∑

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

w

-

bo

-

Ó ˙

xit pas - tor

Sur - re

& 24 ∑

xit

-

re

pas - tor

-

-

nus, sur - re

bo

xit

pas - tor

-

bo

-

˙ ˙ w -

-

˙ ˙ w

˙

w.

w

Sur

V 24

-

-

˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙

w.

-

˙ w

˙ ˙ w

w

-

xit pas

-

w

∑

W

w

nus,

sur

∑

∑

∑

Ó ˙ w

∑

∑

∑

∑

4 &2 „ 1

∑

Sur

& 24

w ˙. œ œ œ

w

Sur -

re

-

-

4 V2 „ 7

&

re

-

˙

pas - tor

bo

& ˙.

-

-

w.

-

-

-

w

V w -

-

-

-

- xit

pas

-

-

-

˙ -

˙ -

˙

w

tor

bo

„ ˙

œ œ œ ˙

-

-

-

nus,

-

w

˙

-

nus,

˙

˙ w

nus,

sur - re

re

˙

˙

-

xit

pas - tor

bo

˙

˙ #˙

˙

˙.

-

re - xit

pas - tor

bo

˙ sur

˙

˙

˙ -

-

˙ -

xit

˙

˙

pas - tor

-

-

-

pas

w

xit pas - tor

xit

pas - tor

w

bo

bo

-

-

-

-

-

re

˙ ˙

œœ ˙ -

w

nus,

-

-

-

nus,

-

-

nus,

w

Ó

-

œ œ œ ˙ -

˙

Ó

nus,

sur

˙

Ó

˙

-

˙

sur - re - xit

xit

pas

-

˙

-

˙

-

xit

Ó ˙.

qui

a

œ œ bo

˙

-

˙

pas - tor

∑

w

˙

˙ tor

˙

˙.

qui

a

-

œ ˙ ni- mam

œ -

ni -

œ œ su

Example 8.2: (a) Lasso, “Surrexit pastor bonus,” mm. 1–7; (b) Castro, “Surrexit pastor bonus,” mm. 1–12

8.7a (Lasso) and 8.7b (Castro) from the same motet provide a further illustration of this process: in the lowest voice, Castro cites the bass from Lasso’s motet on the words “Pax vobis,” but in contrast to his exemplar, he has the other voices run on in melismas rather than according them similarly drawn-out notes. Such simultaneous contrast does occur in Lasso, but on a more modest scale, as for example on “ut salvum me fac”(in “In te, Domine, speravi,” Ex. 8.8a). Castro (Ex. 8.8b) picks up Lasso’s descending third on “ut salvum,” but augments the semibreves into breves and accompanies them with an extensive melisma with octave leaps in the cantus. Similarly, Castro will often exceed Lasso in highlighting the rhythmic contrasts between successive fragments through diminution (Ex. 8.9, on “accelera”in

173

-

w

w

w

w

-

nus,

˙

w

˙ #˙ -

-

-

w -

-

-

w

-

œ œ œ ˙

-

bo

nus,

˙

˙

˙.

˙ ˙

-

bo

sur - re

-

-

pas - tor

Ó

œ œ

-

-

w

˙

nus,

-

-

˙ ˙

-

˙.

tor

w

w.

˙

Ó

˙ -

xit

w -

bo

˙

-

-

nus,

∑

w

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

re - xit

˙

∑

˙

w sur

-

∑

˙ ˙ -

Sur

#

w

-

œ œ œ œ ˙

„

˙

bo

-

˙

˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ

œ ˙

bo

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

Ó ˙

œ œ œ ˙

˙.

w

tor

sur

Sur - re

(b)

˙ ˙.

nus,

Sur - re

?4 2

˙

-

i g nac e b o s s u y t (a)

4 &b 2 ∑ 1

w An

& b 24 ∑

Ó

An

˙

4 Vb 2

ge - lus ad

pas - to - res

˙ ˙ w

w

˙. œ w

w

-

˙ -

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

-

An

4 V b 2 w.

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

ge - lus

ge - lus

∑

w.

∑

-

w

∑

(b)

1

4 &b 2 „ w An

V b 24 w . -

6

& b #˙.

-

ge

-

n˙ .

pas - to

an

-

˙

ge

-

lus

ad

œ ˙

˙

ge

-

Ó ˙

ge

#˙ . -

lus

-

w

ad

pas

-

œ

˙

lus

˙

˙ pas

w

ad

w ad

˙ pas

-

˙ pas

-

˙

it,

ad

to

-

-

pas - to

˙

to

˙

to

-

-

-

a

-

ad

a

pas

-

˙.

-

˙. œ w to

-

ge

-

-

-

-

-

œ

to

w a

˙

˙

res

a

res

res

Ó w

Ó ˙

˙ -

ge

-

-

-

˙

-

-

it :

˙

it :

-

it:

U

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

it:

U W it:

U

W

w

-

˙.

˙ -

it:

˙

ge

˙

an

U

W

#œ œ w

U W U

-

W

it :

W

Example 8.3: (a) Lasso, “Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 1–8; (b) Castro, “Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 1–10

“In te, Domine, speravi”) or augmentation (Ex. 8.10,“quia natus est vobis,” in “Angelus ad pastores ait”). Finally, Castro exceeds Lasso in his preference for short motivic units, especially on single words. Although Lasso does often employ rhythmically succinct syllabic motives, he tends, at least in the motets, to show a preference for longer, more delicately balanced melodic phrases.This is evident in the initial entry of “Confundantur superbi” (Ex. 8.11) and the second part of “Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam” on the words “Ne avertas faciem tuam a me” (Ex. 8.12). Lasso sets “Confundantur superbi” to a melismatic, evenly designed theme; Castro begins by focusing all attention on the word “Confundantur,” eventually followed by “superbi.” The approach is similar for “Ne avertas faciem tuam a me”: instead of one overarching theme, 174

-

œ

lus,

œ ˙

lus,

W -

U

W

-

- ge

˙.

˙ -

-

W a

it:

#W

a

an

w

w a

a

res

an

˙

˙

-

an -

res

res

W

lus,

Ó

-

w

-

˙

œ w

n˙ .

W

-

W -

-

-

-

W -

-

-

œœœ ˙ ˙

-

U

˙ œœw

W

res

to - res,

to

res

˙ ˙.

w

w

˙ -

˙

-

to - res,

n˙

pas -

w

-

˙

pas -

ad

-

˙ -

˙

pas

˙

˙

Ó ˙ œœ œ œ ˙ w

res,

w

An

ad

˙

w

a

˙

pas - to -

ad

w

˙ w

ad

it,

w

˙

w

res

ad

˙

lus

œ w

˙

-

˙ ˙ w

˙

˙

-

-

˙

Ó ˙

ge - lus

lus

Vb ˙

pas - to

-

w.

˙ ˙

An

Vb

ad

„

4 Vb 2 ∑

˙ w

-

˙ w

˙ ˙ w

-

-

w

ge - lus

An

a

˙. œ ˙ ˙

˙

An

? b 24

˙. œ w

-

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n (a)

& 24 „ 1

∑

w Gus

4 &2 W Gus

w

-

ta -

4 V2 „

-

-

ta

-

-

#

#

˙ ˙ œ œœ˙

˙ ˙

te

-

et

vi - de

„

#

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

w

w

-

-

-

„

te

et

#

n

œ œœ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

vi - de

-

-

w

w

w

te,

et

vi

„

-

te,

gus - ta

w

-

de

∑

-

w

„

„

? 24 „

„

„

w

W Gus

-

-

-

ta

„

-

-

-

Ó

te,

w

-

-

ta

-

#

#

˙

˙

˙ ˙ œ œœ˙

te

et

vi - de

„

et

vi

-

˙ ˙

˙

et

w

Gus

V 24 „

-

te

∑

˙ ˙

-

˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ

-

-

-

vi -

˙

te

vi

et

˙ ˙ w

-

„

de -

˙ w

te,

gus - ta

∑

w

-

Gus

(b)

& 24 „

∑

4 V2 W

w w

1

w

w

w

-

- ta

Gus -

Gus

4 V2 „

-

„

-

te,

et

„

vi - de

gus

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

W Gus

- ta

-

ta

-

te

-

-

w

te,

et

vi - de

˙ ˙ ˙.

˙ . #œ œ ˙

w -

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

w

w

˙ œ œ ˙. œ ˙

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙

ta - te

w

w

-

te, gus - ta

œ œœ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w -

-

-

-

-

-

-

gus - ta -

-

ta

w

∑

- te,

w -

te,

œ œ œ ˙ w

W gus

-

-

gus -

˙

˙

w

te

et

vi

w -

de -

Example 8.4: (a) Lasso, “Gustate et videte,” mm. 1–7; (b) Castro, “Gustate et videte,” mm. 1–8

Castro splits the text into three separate fragments (“Ne avertas – faciem tuam – a me”), clearly delineated by the text repetitions. The result of these differences is a more nervous and very dynamic musical narrative, which adds a Baroque flavor to Lasso’s models and which clearly accords with some contemporary madrigal writing (for example, the generous use of accidentals recalls Rore). Castro was unquestionably attempting to overcome and in a sense leave behind the limitations, both harmonic and contrapuntal, dictated by a three-voiced texture.At the same time, we may characterize Castro as developing to the full Lasso’s compositional processes (melodic progression, rhythm, harmony, etc.) in order to surpass the original, since imitatio went hand-in-hand with emulatio: admiration for the imitated model was matched by a certain urge to compete. This was without a doubt a major challenge for Castro, considering that he was only at the beginning of his career and, moreover, was becoming a specialist in the tricinium. He seems to have seen the Antwerp period of 1569–76 as a sort of apprenticeship, affording him the chance to master French, Italian, and Latin tricinia as arrangements of more 175

-

i g nac e b o s s u y t (a)

w.

4 &2 W 1

Tri

-

& 24 ∑

bus

w

Tri

4 &2 ∑

w

-

w -

-

? 24 „ (b)

4 &2 Ó 1

w Tri

-

& 24 ∑

˙ ˙.

mi

-

w

bus

mi

Tri

&

di

-

& œ

-

-

-

-

V w di

-

-

w

cu

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

bus

mi

˙. -

ra

-

-

œ ˙ -

-

-

cu - lis,

w

˙

bus

mi

-

w

tri

˙ -

ra

˙

-

na - tum

-

na

˙

˙

bus

mi

Ó ˙

w -

or

or

-

-

˙

ra

-

cu

-

˙

˙

˙

lis

or

na

w

˙

˙

w

bw

lis

or

-

cu

-

-

˙

bus

-

˙

Ó

em,

tri

-

-

-

˙

˙

bus

mi

-

-

-

-

na -

tum

˙

-

ra

-

˙

na -

tum

w

cu - lis

˙

˙

-

lis

or

-

œ

˙

or

-

cu

b˙ . -

-

˙

-

-

˙

˙

˙

ra

-

di

œ

ra

˙

mi -

-

-

œœ

œ ˙

˙.

mi

w

-

tum

˙

bus

W

-

˙

di

di

-

-

-

or

˙ ˙.

na - tum

w

-

˙

˙ w

b˙ .

w

-

tum

Ó

˙

or

ra

-

∑

na - tum

lis

˙ -

-

cu - lis

w.

tri

or

w

di

œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

w

˙

w tri

œ

-

˙

em,

em,

œ

cu

Ó

Ó œ

-

mi

w -

-

˙

bus

w -

w

Ó

cu - lis

-

∑

˙

-

˙ ˙ w

œ œ œ œ ˙

˙

„

˙

or

œœ œ œ œ œ œ œœœœœœ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

-

˙ œ œ œ œ

˙

w

lis

„

œ -

-

„

-

-

-

∑

w

œ œ ˙

ra

-

„

˙

œ

-

„

-

˙.

-

˙

œœ˙

„

-

-

-

ra

-

w -

-

bw

mi

4 V2 W 6

˙.

œ œ œ ˙.

-

w

bus

w Tri

ra

w w

w

Tri

4 V2 „

-

˙

-

˙

cu - lis

Example 8.5: (a) Lasso, “Tribus miraculis,” mm. 1–6; (b) Castro, “Tribus miraculis,” mm. 1–9

4 W &2 22

˙

˙

in

me

w

˙

˙

stans

in

me

∑

stans

4 &2 W ster,

& 24 W

W

ster,

stans

4 V2 w

ster,

?4 w 2

w

w

stans

∑

ster,

˙ -

-

˙ -

˙ -

-

di

w -

o

˙ -

di

dis -

w -

o

w

in

me

˙

stans

in

w

me

˙ -

-

di

˙

di

-

-

-

˙

w

-

ci

-

ci

pu

-

pu

œ ˙

˙ dis

o

dis -

˙

o

dis

-

ci

-

-

-

ci

˙

pu

˙

˙

˙

lo -

rum

su

˙

#˙

w

lo -

rum

su

-

-

-

ci

˙

-

-

lo -

-

-

˙ -

-

˙

o

-

w.

˙

˙ -

-

˙

di - o

˙

Example 8.6: Lasso, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 22–6

176

-

˙. me

˙

-

˙

˙

˙

dis -

W

W

-

w

in

∑

˙

w

˙ pu

˙

rum

-

-

w lo

-

pu

-

#˙ su

-

˙ o

-

-

-

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n (a)

w

4 &2 ∑ 31

w

w

Pax

w

vo

& 24 W

-

-

-

W

Pax

4 W V2

(b)

W

vo

-

Pax

vo

-

Ó

& 42

Ó

21

˙.

-

-

-

bis,

œ œ œ

œ œ ˙

œ œ œ

w

4 V2

-

W

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

bis,

-

-

bis

-

-

bis,

-

˙

œ -

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

˙

-

bis,

bis,

-

-

-

Œ œ œ œ œ œ

˙

al - le

˙

-

-

-

W

-

-

-

œ œ œ œ

˙

al

-

le

-

-

-

∑

w

-

-

al

W -

-

Ó

œ œ w

vo

œ -

w

#œ œ ˙

-

-

w

W

˙.

˙.

pax

vo

w vo

#˙

W

Pax

˙ pax

-

˙

Ó

al

˙

w

-

˙ vo

˙.

-

W

-

Pax

Pax,

-

Ó

˙

Pax

4 &2

bis,

w vo

w. W

-

w

vo

4 &2 W

-

w

Pax

? 24

-

W

w

∑

w

bis,

Example 8.7: (a) Lasso, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 31–4; (b) Castro, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 21–4 (a)

& 42 66

4 w &2

w

ut

sal

& 42 ˙

˙

V 42

˙

mum

re

w

-

re -

-

-

-

gi

-

fu

re -

-

-

˙

mum

re

4 &2 ˙ ˙ 45

-

-

œ w -

fu

ut

˙ ˙

ci - as,

-

4 ˙. V2

˙

˙ ˙

ci - as,

& 24 ˙ # ˙

fu

ci- as,

ut

-

˙ ˙

-

gi

˙

?4 ˙ 2

fa

fu

-

-

-

gi

-

-

˙ -

gi

sal

˙

˙

vum

me

˙

w sal

w

ut

˙

˙

-

-

-

-

˙

˙

˙

-

-

-

vum

me

fa

-

ci

-

∑

Ó

as,

w

ci

ut

sal

∑

∑

-

-

-

Ó

-

∑

∑

w

i,

ut

fa

˙

ut

w

œ œ ˙

me

fa - ci- as,

w

sal

-

-

sal

˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙

w

w

˙ ˙ ˙. œ

ut

sal

me

-

vum

fa -

vum

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

ci - as,

Ó w

vum

-

-

w

-

ci

w

œ œ ˙

-

-

˙

sal

fa -

˙

˙

w

w

me

œ œœ ˙ ˙ œœ œ w

˙

me

˙

ut

œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

as,

w

vum

i,

∑

w

˙ -

w

i,

œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

w

∑

vum,

w

sal - vum

∑

-

fa

ut

#˙ w

sal - vum

-

˙

i,

w -

-

œ œ œ œ

˙ w

˙

œ œ œ œ w

w

ut

˙

4 V2 w

(b)

w

∑

ut

sal - vum,

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ -

vum, ut

sal - vum,

w

Ó ˙

ci - as,

ut

Example 8.8: (a) Lasso, “In te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 66–9; (b) Castro, “In te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 45–50

i g nac e b o s s u y t (a)

˙

& 24 Ó 44

˙

in

-

4 &2

cli

-

˙

#˙

na

ad

∑

˙

˙

˙

me

au -

rem

w

∑

in

& 24 œ œ # ˙

rem

tu

-

w ad

tu

-

am,

w

rem

w tu

-

˙

Ó

˙

am

-

ut

œ ˙

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙

-

le - ra

ut

e

œ ˙

˙

˙

-

le - ra

ut

& ˙.

-

-

˙ e

-

na

∑

∑

V

∑

∑

ad

˙

˙

me

au

˙

˙

me

au

-

˙ ˙

-

˙

˙

˙ -

˙

au

˙

˙

w

as

me,

œ œœ˙

w

ru

-

˙

˙ -

ru

-

w

w me,

∑ ∑

26

rem

tu - am,

in -

4 &2 ˙ ˙ w rem

V 24 ∑

w cli

˙ ˙

-

-

na

ad

tu - am,

in -

w cli

-

˙ ˙ -

na

au - rem

tu

-

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

in - cli

Ó ˙

me

ad

na

ad

me

au -

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ me

au - rem

tu

-

-

- am,

˙ ˙ w

rem

ac -

am,

-

-

am,

-

-

-

am,

tu

-

-

-

-

am,

˙

˙ -

-

ce

-

ce

-

˙.

˙

œ. œ J

ce

ac - ce - le - ra

ut

am,

ac - ce - le - ra,

le- ra:

œ ˙

˙

-

le- ra:

ut

w

ut

w ut

le - ra

˙

Œ œ œ . œj ˙

-

le - ra

Œ œ œ . œj ˙

tu - am,

le- ra:

œ w

œ w

ce - le- ra, ac - ce - le- ra

w

-

˙.

œ œ œ. œ ˙ J

Œ œ œ. œ J

˙

ac - ce - le- ra

˙ ac -

œ w

œ w -

ac -

w

Ó

le - ra

w

-

˙

w

˙.

œ w -

˙

ce

˙ ac

˙. ce

#

˙.

˙

Ó ˙

˙ -

œ w

ac

ce

Œ œ

-

ac

Ó

˙ ˙ ˙

am,

w

Ó

˙.

˙

∑

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

Ó ˙ w

-

Ó

Ó Ó

∑

˙ ˙ ˙ 4 &2 ˙

tu

˙.

rem

as

-

w

ac -

(b)

-

me,

ac

∑

-

˙ -

w

œ œ ˙

ac -

?

-

-

˙

-

as

-

tu

me

-

w tu

au - rem

˙

˙

-

˙ ˙

˙

-

rem

rem

˙

tu

ac

w

w

˙

au - rem

-

w

∑

am

me

œ œ ˙ -

-

me

˙

e

ru

˙

ad

ad

œ œ œ œ

V

na

w

˙

˙

-

-

#˙

w œ œ œ œ

œœ ˙

-

-

˙

Ó

ad

cli -

-

-

cli -

am,

˙

in

-

˙

w

˙

˙ rem

le - ra

-

-

tu

˙

œ œ ˙. œ œ œ œ

& ˙.

ce

˙

-

˙ na

œ ˙

˙.

ce

au -

˙

au -

ce

˙

me

?4 ˙ 2

˙

au

˙

ad

in - cli -

˙

me

4 V2 ˙

49

am,

w

ad

&

˙

-

V 24 ˙

Œ œ ˙

W

W

˙ w

e

ut

œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ ut e - ru - as

e

me.

œ ˙ ˙

˙. -

ru - as

me.

ut e - ru - as

me.

œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙

Example 8.9: (a) Lasso, “In te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 44–53; (b) Castro, “In te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 26–31

extensive settings. In his later collections, he ceased to apply imitatio in his chansons and motets and started to compose original works, thereby hoping to lend a higher status to the tricinium. This is apparent from the monumental character of his later tricinia. Most of the motets from the Cantiones aliquot sacrae trium vocum of 1593 comprise at least three sec178

-

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n (a)

4 &b 2 w 23

∑

∑

qui

& b 24 W -

4 w Vb 2 qui

-

4 Vb 2 w

-

-

num,

˙ ˙

˙

a

-

na

qui - a

na

#

4 &b 2 w

Ó

tus

-

#

#˙

w

-

bis,

vo

Vb

-

w

∑

est

no - bis

di - e,

˙ na

-

-

-

bis,

˙

˙

tus

est

-

-

#˙

˙

a

na

-

n

˙

˙

tus

est

-

-

-

-

Ó

˙ qui

-

˙

a

na

n

˙ w -

a

w

∑

∑

Ó ˙ #˙ ˙ qui - a

na

-

tus

est

qui

-

-

ho - di -

a

-

na

tus

œ œ ˙. -

-

-

est

-

˙

w

tus

est

œœ w

-

-

w

w

a

na

˙ -

-

#˙ -

˙.

a

na

˙

˙

Ó

tus

est,

˙ -

-

-

œ

-

˙

w

tus

est,

˙

w

tus

est,

qui

-

-

˙ qui

-

-

w vo -

-

no -

œ ˙

-

˙ -

-

˙ b˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

-

w -

no

˙ ˙ -

œ

˙.

est

w

no - bis

w

∑

na -

˙ ˙ ˙ œœ

na - tus

˙ ˙ w

˙

na

˙

˙ œ œ œ œ

œ w

qui - a

. œ œ œ œ ˙

-

qui

e

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙

vo

W qui

˙.

no - bis,

n

w

w

a

˙ di -

W

œ œ ˙

w

-

˙

ho -

est

di - e,

qui

tus

a

-

∑

-

˙

tus

˙

ho

œ W

-

-

-

˙ ˙ ˙. œ w

˙

na

w.

no - bis

bis,

Ó

a

˙ ˙ ˙.

œ œ nœ œ w

Vb w

-

w

qui

27

-

˙

-

Ó

w. ho

˙ w -

w -

˙ ˙ w est no - bis

W

est

V b 24 W qui

˙ tus

˙

qui

4 Vb 2 w

-

˙ bœ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

˙

est,

&b ˙

na

∑

num,

23

a

qui

∑

? b 24 Ó ˙ ˙ ˙

(b)

-

∑

w

mag

˙ w

w

num,

˙ -

-

˙ -

-

#˙

˙

a

na

-

-

a

˙

tus

Example 8.10: (a) Lasso, “Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 23–9; (b) Castro, “Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 23–30

tions, some having four or six parts, and one no fewer than ten (“Cum sero esset”). The 1596 tricinia (Trium vocum cantiones aliquot sacrae) are again almost all sizeable compositions in four to six parts. The same evolution towards monumentality may be seen in the French chanson. Moreover, Castro confirmed his very original contribution to the French tricinium by the fact that he himself probably supplied texts for some of the works.36 It

36

See Hubert Daschner, “Die gedruckten mehrstimmigen Chansons von 1500–1600. Literarische Quellen und Bibliographie,” Ph.D. dissertation, Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität, Philosophische Fakultät, Bonn (1962), pp. lxvii–lxviii.

179

-

i g nac e b o s s u y t (a)

4 w &2

˙

1

Con

-

˙ œ œ œ œ

fun - dan

4 &2

-

-

∑

-

˙

tur

su

w

˙

Con

& 24

˙

-

-

per

-

-

-

-

-

∑

-

-

-

œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ

˙

-

-

tur

su

-

-

-

-

-

-

˙

˙

bi,

su

- per

-

-

∑

-

-

∑

∑

∑

∑

∑

?4 2

∑

∑

∑

∑

∑

˙

w

-

per

˙ -

w

Ó

bi,

con

& œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. -

& ˙

-

-

-

œ œ œ œ ˙

fun - dan

-

-

V

∑

?

∑

˙ fun

-

-

-

˙

#œ œ ˙

-

-

w

Con

-

-

-

dan

˙

œ ˙

-

-

-

˙ œ œ œ œ -

˙

˙

- tur

su -

per

-

-

w

w

4 &2 Ó

w Con -

w V 24 Con 5

-

-

-

˙

-

fun

-

˙

Ó

&˙

-

-

-

-

-

fun

-

∑

tur

Vœ tur

˙ œ

œ

-

per

-

œ

œ

su - per

-

-

œ

-

-

œ œ œ -

œ œ œ -

-

œ œ œ -

-

tur

su

˙

-

per

-

-

-

-

˙

Ó

tur,

con

-

-

˙

tur,

con

œ -

-

˙ -

-

˙ -

-

œ -

bi,

œ -

-

œ œ œ

bi,

-

˙

œ

œ

œ

œ

œ

con - fun - dan -

œ

-

con - fun - dan -

-

œ

#œ tur

-

con

˙ ˙

-

fun

-

˙

-

-

bi,

˙

fun -

-

-

w

˙

-

dan

-

#˙

-

-

- dan

-

œ œ œ œ ˙ -

dan

œ

˙ -

-

œ

œ

tur

su - per

bi,

-

œ

-

-

˙

con - fun

-

w

œ #˙ su - per

-

-

˙

bi,

˙ -

bi,

Example 8.11: (a) Lasso, “Confundantur superbi,” mm. 1–10; (b) Castro, “Confundantur superbi,” mm. 1–7

180

su

-

-

-

˙

w -

fun

-

con

w

per

˙

œ œ œ -

-

-

-

bi,

- tur

con

su

-

˙

œ œ œ œ ˙

˙

-

˙

Ó

Ó

˙

-

-

˙

-

w

bi,

tur

˙

fun

-

bi,

˙

œ œ œ œ -

-

-

-

˙

Ó

œ

œ

-

-

-

-

-

-

˙

con

œ -

-

˙

-

œ œ œ œ ˙

-

-

œ œ œ œ ˙

œ œ ˙

-

-

œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

˙

-

fun - dan

dan

per

fun - dan

w

œ -

œ œ œ -

-

-

˙

˙ -

œ

Œ

œ -

˙

˙ ˙

-

su - per

su

-

˙

tur,

tur

&œ

su

˙

-

œ œ

˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ fun dan ˙ w œ œ œ œ dan

-

-

Con

Con -

tur

œ œ ˙

˙ œ œ œ œ

fun - dan

1

w

con

∑

& 24 „

-

Ó

bi,

˙

˙

-

∑

œ œ œ ˙

˙.

˙

-

w Con

∑

6

-

œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

-

∑

œ œ ˙

V 24

&

(b)

-

˙ œ œ œ œ

fun - dan

∑

œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙

œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ

Œ œ con -

l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n (a)

4 & b 2 w. 67

˙ w

w

a - ver -

tas

∑

Ó

Ne

& b 24 „

fa - ci - em

˙

a - ver

„

4 Vb 2 „

tu

˙ ˙ w

Ne

4 Vb 2 „

œ œœ œ œ w

˙ ˙. œ ˙

-

„

„

-

-

-

(b)

„

& b 24 „ 42

Ne

a -

ver - tas,

V b 24 „

∑

. &b ˙ ˙ œ ˙ 49

tas

Vb

˙

fa - ci- em

˙ ˙ w

a - ver

Vb w

∑

tas,

-

ne

˙

˙ a

w Ne

a - ver

˙ ˙ Ó

tu - am,

w

tas

˙. fa

w -

-

˙

ne

a

ver

-

ver

w -

tas

ne

-

ver

w.

-

-

w tas

fa

∑

˙ ˙

˙ ˙

˙.

œ

tu

œ

fa -

-

-

am

-

tu -

˙ ˙ w a

-

tas,

a

˙ ˙ w tu - am

W

tu

-

tas

fa

a

œ

-

-

œ ˙ -

ci - em

˙ ˙ w

a - ver

˙ ˙ w

ne

a - ver

-

w

Ó ˙

me,

ne

˙ ˙ ˙ #˙

me, ne

de - cli -

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may be that in the madrigal he felt less need to be original, since at the end of the century the three-part madrigal continued to hold an established place in the repertory and required no further legitimation. This might explain his tendency to remain true to the process of arrangement in this genre, whereby compositions by masters such as Luca Marenzio could become available in lively and highly idiosyncratic versions for three voices. In this sense, Castro’s tricinia, which were clearly intended as intimate household music for the bourgeoisie and nobility (especially in Antwerp), functioned as a kind of publicity for the composers on whose compositions they were based. One would expect that in this context it would be next to impossible to ignore Lasso. And yet Castro’s oeuvre seems to suggest that in the 181

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i g nac e b o s s u y t southern Netherlands, with Antwerp as the economic and cultural center and Leuven as the music publishing center, Lasso enjoyed his greatest fame as a composer of chansons, and that his motets began to be noticed only starting in the 1570s, while almost no attention was paid to his madrigals. Castro’s tricinia thus turn out to be not unimportant puzzle pieces in the documentation of the reception of the work by the most celebrated composer of the late Renaissance, while they are also fascinating music in their own right, the intrinsic musical qualities of which deserve, in my opinion, greater attention. Translated by Stratton Bull

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9

The madrigal book of Jean Turnhout (1589) and its relationship to Lasso james haar

In the course of preparing a study of Lasso’s Libro Quarto of five-voice madrigals (1567),1 my attention was drawn to the Libro Primo de Madrigali a 6 voci of Giovan [Jean, Jan] Turnhout, published in Antwerp in 1589, in which a large number of pieces – half the contents of the book – are settings of texts used by Lasso. One Netherlandish composer turning to the work of an older and more famous compatriot, to be sure. That is easily said; but sixteenth-century musicians did not have access to the resources of modern libraries, and the whole question of how madrigalists came upon the texts they set is a far from simple one. Turnhout was not, to judge from this volume, a serious student of Lasso’s music; his madrigals are far closer in style to the canzonetta of the 1570s and 1580s than they are to Lasso. A few fleeting allusions tell us none the less that he did see not only the texts but the music of the older composer, and indeed music prints must have been an important source for composers in search of texts to set, even if their purpose was not musical parody. Is there some reason for Turnhout to have seen volumes of Lasso madrigals and to have chosen, or have recommended to him, the texts he set? An inventory (see the Appendix) of Turnhout’s volume shows that he chose for the most part texts appearing in Lasso’s Libro Terzo (1563) and Libro Quarto (1567); he did not know or was not attracted by the early books or by Lasso’s later madrigal collections. The inventory also points toward acquaintance with the work of Monte and Rore, again illustrious Netherlanders, as well as Palestrina (in a relatively obscure early collection) and, understandably for the period, Marenzio. For some of Turnhout’s madrigals his precise source is not easy to pin down, and there are a few 1

“Le Muse in Germania: Lasso’s Fourth Book of Madrigals,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 49–72.

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ja m e s h a a r pieces for which no other setting is known. That Lasso’s works were a source for Turnhout is clear; the reasons behind Turnhout’s choice are the subject of this inquiry.2 Jean, or Jan, Turnhout is an example of a Netherlandish composer who apparently never left his native land. He held positions of importance in Malines and Brussels, but he seems during a long life to have been a singer and chapelmaster first, a composer only secondarily. His life is not well documented; information about him gathered by Van der Straeten and interpreted by Van Doorslaer is repeated without change in modern lexicons.3 His name appears to have been Jan Jacobs; he and his brother Gérard, also a composer, were natives of Turnhout, a town some twenty-five miles northeast of Antwerp. He would seem to have been born c. 1545–1550 and was still alive in 1618. Nothing is known of his musical training, but Antwerp seems the most logical place for it (later, in all probability, than Lasso’s Antwerp stay of 1554–6). His older brother Gérard became choirmaster at the Church of Our Lady (Ons-Lieve-Vrouw; from 1559 the cathedral) in Antwerp in 1562, making it likely that Jean Turnhout would have been there as a singer. If he was in Antwerp he may also have known Séverin Cornet, who succeeded Gérard Turnhout as cathedral choirmaster in 1572.4 In 1577 Jean Turnhout, said to be “bruxellensis, clericus conjugatus,” was named choirmaster at the Cathedral of St. Rombaut in Malines; if he had been a singer in Antwerp he had evidently moved at some point to 2

3

4

Lasso’s Libro Terzo, published by Antonio Barrè in Rome in 1563, was reprinted in Venice in that year and in editions of 1564, 1566, 1567, 1570, 1573, and 1586; Libro Quarto (Venice, 1567) was reissued in 1570, 1584, and 1593. For reasons that this study should make clear I assume that the two books reached the Netherlands in the 1560s. One text used by Turnhout, “Occhi piangete,” was in Lasso’s Primo Libro a 4 of 1560; it had already appeared in his ‘op. 1’ Antwerp print of 1555. Edmond van der Straeten, La Musique aux Pays-Bas avant le xixe siècle, 8 vols. (Brussels, 1867–88; repr. New York, 1969), vol. 1, pp. 237–48 et passim; G. van Doorslaer, “Jean van Turnhout, compositeur, maître de chapelle, à Malines et à Bruxelles, 1545? après 1618,” Musica Sacra, 42 (1935), pp. 218–49. The biographical information on Turnhout given here is taken from those two sources unless otherwise specified. See Kristine K. Forney, “Music, Ritual and Patronage at the Church of Our Lady, Antwerp,” Early Music History, 7 (1987), p. 38. Jean Turnhout could have been in Antwerp before 1562 as a boy singer.

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t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ Brussels, perhaps as a member of the chapel of Margaret of Austria, regent of the Netherlands from 1559 to 1567, or her successors the Duke of Alva (1567–73), Don Luis Requesens (1573–6), and Don Juan of Austria (1576–8).5 Malines, though newly created as a diocese, was now the primatial see of the Netherlands; its archbishop was Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle, a powerful diplomat and art patron to whom we will return. Turnhout had evidently acquired a reputation, especially if it is true that Granvelle took the appointment of a choirmaster as seriously as that of a suffragan bishop.6 Ferocious religious war disrupted life at Malines completely; Turnhout probably left the city about 1580. Once again his whereabouts are unknown for a time, until 1586 when he became choirmaster at the Brussels chapel of Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma and governor-general of the Netherlands, son of Ottavio Farnese and Margaret of Austria. Here he remained until his death, sometime after 1618. Turnhout’s surviving music consists of the six-voice madrigal book of 1589, a volume of motets published in 1594, and a few scattered individual pieces, including a six-voice madrigal published in the Antwerp anthology Melodia Olympica (RISM 159110).7 A volume of five-voice madrigals, cited by Gerber and nineteenth-century scholars as published in Douai in 1559 [=1595], is not extant though its existence does not seem improbable.8 Turnhout remained as chapelmaster in Brussels after the death of 5

6

7

8

It is worth noting that Séverin Cornet was a choirmaster at Malines from 1564 to 1572. See New Grove s.v., “Cornet,” by Donna Cardamone. This is said by Maurice Piquard in “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, les artistes et les écrivains,” Revue belge d’archéologie et d’histoire de l’art, 17 (1947–8), pp. 138–9. No source is given, but Piquard’s article is based on study of Granvelle papers and letters in the municipal library of Besançon. The madrigal, “Vorria parlare e dire,” uses a text set by Marenzio (Libro Primo delle villanelle a 3, Venice, 1584). See the Appendix, no. 9. E. L. Gerber, Historisch-Biographisches Lexikon der Tonkünstler (1812–1814), ed. Othmar Wesseley [along with the earlier version of the work], 4 vols. (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1966–79), vol. 2, p. 119. F.-J. Fétis, Biographie universelle des musiciens et bibliographie générale de la musique, 2nd ed., 8 vols. (Paris, 1873–80; repr. Brussels, 1972), vol. 8, p. 275, corrects Gerber’s date for the five-voice book and says it is to be found in Munich; Alphonse Goovaerts, Histoire et bibliographie de la typographie musicale dans les Pays-Bas (Antwerp, 1880), p. 225, follows Fétis. The volume is apparently not to be found today at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek.

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ja m e s h a a r Alessandro Farnese (1592); he wrote a mass for the entry of Archduke Ernst into Antwerp in 1594, and was still in the chapel, sharing duties (because of advanced age?) with Géry Ghersem in his later years.9 Our cast of characters, Jean Turnhout and several of his patrons, has now been assembled. A closer look at these patrons and at Lasso’s relationship to them is now in order. Most prominent in the list is Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle (1517–86), Archdeacon of Besançon, Bishop of Arras (1538), Cardinal-Archbishop of Malines (1561–82), and a lifelong servant of the Habsburgs, first Charles V and then Philip II.10 Granvelle, whose father was a trusted counsellor of Charles V, began his ecclesiastical career early, becoming a bishop at the age of twenty-one; throughout his life he sought ecclesiastic preferment as a means of furthering a career hampered by his lack of noble birth.11 Students of his career differ about his personality and sometimes about his motives, but his very considerable intelligence and diplomatic talents are universally admired. He served Charles V more or less in his father’s place; by the time of Charles’s abdication in 1555 Granvelle had become the leading representative, regent in all but name, of the Habsburgs in the Netherlands. With increasing power came increasing wealth. Granvelle built a splendid house in Brussels and acquired villas outside that city and near Antwerp.12 He commissioned paintings and other works of art, and it is said that at least a hundred literary works were dedicated to him. He was 9

10

11

Van Doorslaer, “Jean van Turnhout,” pp. 227–8. On Ghersem, a prolific composer most of whose music is lost, see New Grove s.v. “Ghersem,” by Mary A. Ferrard. The fullest treatment of Granvelle’s career is Maurice van Durme, Antoon Perrenot, Bisschop van Atrecht, Kardinaal van Granvelle, Minister van Karel V en van Filips II (1517–1586) (Brussels: Paleis der Academiën, 1953), which unfortunately pays scant attention to Granvelle’s patronage of artists. The article of Alphonse Wauters on Granvelle in Académie royale des sciences, des lettres et des beaux-arts de Belgique. Biographie nationale, 27 vols. (Brussels, 1866–1938), vol. 7, cols. 197–237, is still informative. See also the study of Piquard cited above, note 6. Boetticher, Lasso, pp. 37, 125, et passim, speaks of some of Granvelle’s connections with Lasso. Boetticher mentions some of Turnhout’s pieces on Lasso texts (pp. 92, 309) but appears to confuse Gérard and Jean Turnhout. His father having bought the castle of Granvelle (near Besançon), the family adopted this name; but Antoine Perrenot was never truly accepted as a 12 Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle,” pp. 136–7. nobleman.

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t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ clearly interested in music as well.13 Tielman Susato dedicated his motet series Liber . . . ecclesiasticarum cantionum of 1553 to Granvelle; Manchicourt’s Liber Quintus (1554) of motets is also dedicated to him. Even at the end of his career music prints were still addressed to him; an example is Conversi’s Libro primo de madrigali a 6 (1584). For us the most significant volume of music addressed to Granvelle is Lasso’s Primo libro de motetti, published in Antwerp in 1556. Lasso’s dedicatory letter, in Italian like the title of the book, says that he is emboldened to write because the “gravissime orecchie” of Granvelle “dilettino de la mia musica”; he is grateful for the “molti beneficij, e segnalati favori” that he has received “tutto il giorno” from his patron. After allowances are made for the flowery (and hopeful?) dedicatory prose, it would seem that this letter is evidence of a more than casual relationship.14 A suggestion of something like real friendship is the report that Granvelle learned of the theft of a manuscript of Lasso’s music and concerned himself with its recovery.15 At the end of his letter Lasso asks Granvelle to read the Latin text of the opening motet, written in his honor. The motet text contains the phrase “musarum famulum ne despice, sustine Lassum,” a punning reference to the composer’s name heightened in the music by a single occurrence of the la-sol solmization figure.16 Lasso probably knew that Manchicourt’s motet volume of 1554 also begins with a text, “O decus o patriae lux,” honoring Granvelle. Other composers wrote pieces for him; both Adrian Willaert and Cipriano de Rore composed motets, on the same text, “O socii neque enim/Per varios casus,” in praise of Granvelle and referring in the cantus 13 14

15

16

See above, and note 6. The letter is given in Lasso, SW, vol. 3, p. vi. A facsimile of it may be seen in Orlandus Lassus en Antwerpen, 1554–1556, exhibition catalogue (Antwerp: Stad Antwerpen, 1994), p. 58, in CM, vol. 1, plate 2 (with English translation), and in the facsimile edition of the entire motet book (Peer: Alamire, 1992). Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle,” p. 139. It would be interesting to know more about this anecdote. The motet is printed in SW, vol. 11, p. 81, and in CM, vol. 1, p. 3. On this motet volume see Edward E. Lowinsky, Die Antwerpener Motettenbuch Orlando di Lasso’s und seine Beziehungen zum Motettenschaffen der niederländischen Zeitgenossen (The Hague: Nijhoff, 1937), reprinted in English translation in Lowinsky, Music in the Culture of the Renaissance and Other Essays, ed. Bonnie J. Blackburn, 2 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), vol. 1, pp. 385–431.

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ja m e s h a a r firmus to his Vergilian motto “Durate.” Though not published until 1566 (after both composers’ deaths) the works were clearly written earlier, perhaps at the time of Granvelle’s appointment to the see of Malines and elevation to the cardinalate (1561).17 EvidencepresentedbyIgnaceBossuytshowsthatGranvelledidindeed take more than a passing interest in Lasso.18 He may, in conjunction with Hans Jakob Fugger, have been instrumental in getting Lasso appointed as singer at the Bavarian ducal court in the fall of 1556; two letters from Fugger to Granvelle speak of Lasso’s journey to and arrival in Munich.19 In March of 1558 Granvelle wrote to Lasso, acknowledging receipt of some music and asking for more from the composer.A newly discovered letter from Lasso to Granvelle (April 1559),in which several pieces of music were enclosed,hints strongly that Lasso would consider moving to a new place. Granvelle’s reply (May 1559) counsels prudence – the composer,he says,had a good post,after all.20 If Lasso was interested in the newly available position at the Spanish court in Madrid it was too late; the job went to Manchicourt.And in October 1559, Pierre du Hotz was named director of the chapel of Margaret of Austria, the new regent of the Netherlands; this is another position Lasso might well have considered.21 Granvelle had many people to please. In 1560 Lasso made a trip to the Netherlands looking for singers to engage for the chapelinMunich.WhetherhesawGranvellewedonotknow,butheheardby letter from the regent (with Granvelle behind her?) thatLassowas to remember that the interests of Philip II in Flemish musicians must be served first.22 The composer returned to Munich without having recruited any singers. 17

18

19 21

The cantus-firmus text, the single word “Durate,” is taken from a device of Granvelle. Rore’s motet has the subtitle “Illustrissimi et Reverendissimi Cardinalis Granvellani Emblema.” It uses as cantus firmus the soggetto cavato utfa-re. Both Rore’s and Willaert’s motets were published in Rore’s Libro Quinto of 1566 (RISM 156617); that of Rore may be found in Rore’s Opera Omnia, ed. Bernhard Meier ([Rome]: American Institute of Musicology, 1959–77), vol. 5, pp. 110. Ignace Bossuyt, “Lassos erste Jahre in München (1556–1559): eine ‘cosa non riuscita’? Neue Materiale aufgrund unveröffentlicher Briefe von Johann Jakob Fugger, Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle und Orlando di Lasso,” Festschrift für Horst Leuchtmann zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Stephan Hörner and Bernhold Schmid (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1993), pp. 55–67. 20 Ibid., pp. 61–5. Ibid., pp. 56–8. Van der Straeten, La Musique aux Pays-Bas, vol. 7, p. 503. On Hotz see ibid., vol. 22 Leuchtmann, Leben, p. 117. 3, pp. 307–25.

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t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ One other connection, possibly an important one, between Granvelle and Lasso may be mentioned. In his letter of May 1559 to the composer Granvelle mentions a “Signor Polites” as if he were a friend of Lasso. Joachim Polites [=Burgher] (d. 1569) was a Fleming who studied at Padua (as did Granvelle); he later turned up in Antwerp, where with the active support of Granvelle he was appointed to head the chancery, a position he held from 1541 until 1565.23 Polites looked out for Granvelle’s interests, and had a room at his disposal in the latter’s Brussels house. He himself lived lavishly in Antwerp, and was an amateur poet and musician who patronized many local artists.24 Polites could well have been a useful friend to Lasso during the composer’s Antwerp years, and could have made him known to Granvelle. Both must subsequently have received copies of Lasso’s music in manuscript and in print. In the spring of 1564 Granvelle, who had incurred much enmity in the Netherlands and who had Philip II’s support but not that of his Spanish advisors, was asked by the king to leave Brussels; he did so, never to return despite his never-ending wishes to do so (he left most of his valuable belongings, including his library, behind in his Brussels house when he departed25). This should mean that there could be no connection between Granvelle and Jean Turnhout. But Granvelle surely knew of Gérard Turnhout, choirmaster at Antwerp Cathedral from 1562 to 1572 and then director of Philip II’s chapel in Madrid. And though he could not visit his episcopal seat in Malines (indeed he rarely did so even before 1564) he was kept apprised of all that went on there by his friend the Vicar General of the diocese, Maximilian Morillon.26 Granvelle remained in name Archbishop 23

24

25

26

See Biographie nationale, s.v. “Joachim Polites,” by Fernand Donnet; Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle,” p. 141; Bossuyt, “Lassos erste Jahre,” pp. 64–6. Biographie nationale, vol. 17, col. 910, where it is said that “plusieurs artistes,” not specified, dedicated compositions to Polites. An instance of Polites dealing with the printer Plantin on Granvelle’s behalf is cited by van Durme, Antoon Perrenot, p. 254. Biographie nationale, vol. 7, col. 223. The house was later looted and its remaining contents then sold at auction in 1578, Granvelle and his brothers and friends being considered at the time as “ennemys du pays.” See Maurice Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, amateur de tapisseries,” Revue belge d’archéologie et d’histoire d’art, 19 (1950), p. 126. But at least part of Granvelle’s library survived and is still extant; see the illustrations in van Durme, Antoon Perrenot. Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, les artistes,” p. 134.

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ja m e s h a a r of Malines until 1582.27 He must therefore have approved Jean Turnhout’s appointment as choirmaster in 1577, and must have learned something about him then if he had not known him earlier. Turnhout was styled “bruxellensis” at the time of his appointment; if he had been in Brussels before 1564 he could have met Granvelle there, perhaps even have been engaged by him. The other figures of interest to us as patrons of musicians are Ottavio Farnese, Duke of Parma; his wife Margaret of Austria (natural daughter of Charles V) and their son Alessandro. Margaret (1522–86) had a Flemish mother and spent her childhood at the Habsburg court in the Netherlands. She was accustomed to musical tributes from an early age; a madrigal in Arcadelt’s Primo libro (1538/9) addresses her, probably at the time of her betrothal (1533) or marriage (1536) to Alessandro de’Medici.28 Another, in Arcadelt’s Quinto libro of 1544, mentions her and Ottavio, presumably in celebration of her second marriage in 1538.29 Cipriano de Rore is the most illustrious composer to have been connected with the Farnese couple. On his departure from Ferrara in the summer of 1559 Rore returned to the Netherlands, where Margaret had become regent. A madrigal in her honor, “Alma real se come fide stella,” published in 1565, may date from this period.30 It is a birthday piece, referring to the approach of the Three Kings (Margaret’s birthday was celebrated on 28 December); the end of the text,“preso non sdegno / Mio stato humile poi che vostro sono / E per elettione e per destino,” suggests that Rore may have been asking directly for a position in Margaret’s service. If so the piece could be dated December 1559.31 27 28

29 30

31

Biographie nationale, vol. 7, col. 226. Iain Fenlon and James Haar, The Italian Madrigal in the Early Sixteenth Century: Sources and Interpretation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 65. The madrigal is “Giovanetta regal pur innocente.” Ibid., p. 65. See Alfred Einstein, The Italian Madrigal, 3 vols. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1949), vol. 1, p. 356. The madrigal is published in Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, pp. 83ff. Meier (Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, p. xiii) thinks that the text also refers to Rore’s beginnings as a musician and some contact with Margaret at that point. This seems unlikely to me. Margaret did stop in Malines, Rore’s probable home, in 1533 as she prepared to leave for Italy. But at the time she was eleven years old, Rore seventeen. When Rore left the Netherlands for Parma late in 1560 his

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t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ Rore’s motet addressed to Granvelle, mentioned above, was probably written at this time or shortly after his departure for Parma to assume his new duties as ducal choirmaster there (November 1560). Another dedicatory piece, “Mentre lumi maggior del secol nostro,” its extravagant text lavish in praise of Ottavio and Margarita (addressed as Apollo and Delia [Diana]), was written at this time, probably for Ottavio’s visit to Brussels in August–September 1560, by or at which time Rore was surely engaged for Parma.32 This work appeared in Rore’s posthumous Quinto libro of 1566, dedicated by the printer Antonio Gardano to Ottavio in a letter famous for its claim that Rore’s music unites all that is best in the music of Josquin, Mouton, and Willaert.33 The last work of Rore to celebrate the Farnese is the five-voice madrigal “Vieni dolce Hymeneo,”addressed to Alessandro and his bride, Maria of Portugal, who were married in November 1565. The marriage had been decided upon in late 1564, by which time Rore had returned from Venice to Parma. Rore died in September 1565; Duke Ottavio was then on his way from Parma to Brussels for the wedding, perhaps with the commissioned piece, clearly one of Rore’s last works, in his possession.34 Here Lasso re-enters the picture, for he also wrote a setting of “Vieni dolce Hymeneo.”35 Rore’s madrigal was doubtless commissioned by Ottavio Farnese. It seems unlikely that another setting of the same text would have been wanted for the wedding ceremonies; yet the poem seems

32

33 34

35

expenses were paid by a Farnese agent in Antwerp, suggesting that the composer may have been there rather than at the court in Brussels. See Jessie Ann Owens, “Cipriano de Rore a Parma (1560–1565). Nuovi documenti,” Rivista italiana di musicologia, 11 (1976), p. 10. See Louis Nuernberger, “The Five-Voice Madrigals of Cipriano de Rore,” 2 vols., Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan (1963) vol. 1, p. 28. The dedication is reproduced in facsimile in Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, p. xix. On Rore’s death date see Owens, “Cipriano de Rore,” p. 18. “Vieni dolce Hymeneo” is published in Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, pp. 123ff. On p. xvi of that volume Meier suggests convincingly, given its peculiar text, that the madrigal “Ne l’aria in questi dì” (published posthumously in RISM 156813, reprinted in 157515) was written to accompany a fireworks display mounted as part of Alessandro Farnese’s wedding festivities. Printed in SW, vol. 8, pp. 69ff. It first appeared in RISM 15706, Second livre des chansons a 4 et 5 parties composées par Orlando di Lassus, Cyprian de Rore, & Philippe de Mons, published by Phalèse in Louvain. Rore’s setting was printed in 15705, the Premier livre of the same series.

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ja m e s h a a r too explicit to have been useful for anything else.36 Granvelle, who had left Brussels early in 1564, does not seem a probable source for a commission, nor is there any apparent reason for Rore to have communicated the text to Lasso. The latter may have received it from friends in the Netherlands.37 He appears to have known Rore’s music as well; although there is no perceptible common material in the two settings, they are similar in style and Lasso like Rore repeats the opening three lines of the poem at the end, using as does Rore the music with which he opened the piece. Lasso’s setting is divided into two parts and is a bit longer than Rore’s, but it is scored for four voices instead of Rore’s five (a gesture of modesty on the part of the younger composer?). Both pieces were published in Louvain/Antwerp in 1570; curiously, one is in each of a pair of matched volumes devoted to chansons and madrigals by the two composers.38 Lasso’s version was, then, known in the Netherlands. If both settings were used at the wedding of 1565, there is no mystery here. If Lasso’s was not, could it have been written after the fact? The obvious reason for this would be Lasso’s desire to remind the Farnese of his existence and just possibly of his availability for the position in Parma vacated by Rore’s death. Some appointments for the chapel in Parma were quickly made, among them that of the organist Jean Terrier d’Arras (once a client of Granvelle).39 It is not clear to me, however, who Rore’s successor as maestro di cappella was.40 Lasso may no longer have been actively interested in moving, but his Libro Quarto of 1567, dedicated to Alfonso II of Ferrara, 36

37

38 39

40

Boetticher, Lasso, p. 305, Sandberger in SW, vol. 8, p. xi, and Meier in Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, p. xv, all assume that Lasso’s piece was written for the wedding. Sandberger also suggests that Lasso’s “Quando fia mai quel giorno,” which mentions a “Maria” in its text, may have been intended for the wedding; but the verbal context hardly seems appropriate. The suggestion that Lasso visited the Netherlands in 1564 (Boetticher, Lasso, p. 166) has no factual basis; see Leuchtmann, Leben, p. 136. See note 35 above. On Jean d’Arras see New Grove s.v. “Arras,” by Lavern Wagner. For his connection to Granvelle see Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, les artistes,” p. 135. The detailed study of N. Pelicelli, “Musicisti in Parma nei secoli xv-xvi,” Note d’archivio per la storia musicale, 8 (1931), pp. 130–42, 196–215, 278–90; 9 (1932), pp. 41–52, 112–29, does not list Rore’s successor at the ducal chapel. In 1566 P. P. Ragazzoni became choirmaster at the Cathedral (ibid., vol. 8, p. 201).

192

t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ shows evidence both external and internal that he wanted to be reckoned in Italy as among the leading madrigalists of the day.41 Other musicians were certainly interested in Parma. G. F. Alcarotto’s Secondo Libro di Madrigali a 5 et a 6 (1569) is dedicated to Margarita (perhaps written upon her return to Parma in 1567) and contains madrigals in honor of her, of the ducal pair, and a third,“A la man vincitrice a l’alte e sole,”referring to Alessandro as well. Its seconda parte sets this text: Queste de le celesti anime duono Che cedon vinte a vostri eterni lumi Humil servo con sacro lumi e di note Volgete a lor quelle superne ruote Mentre in aur’ a voi beati sono Ottavio et Alessandro invitti numi.42

To this list of madrigals honoring the Farnese, doubtless not complete, may be added the sonnet opening Turnhout’s madrigal book of 1589. The volume, described as the composer’s “primo frutto,” is dedicated to Alessandro (1545–92), governor of the Netherlands since 1578 and (absentee) Duke of Parma since 1586, the year Turnhout joined his service in Brussels. The dedication is dated 20 December 1588. It could hardly have come at a worse time. Alessandro was indeed one of the greatest military commanders of his day; he managed to reconquer for Philip II all of the southern Netherlands (essentially present-day Belgium).43 But during the ill-fated Armada expedition of 1588 his role was an ambiguous one. He assembled an army at Dunkirk, planning an invasion of England; but a combination of factors prevented him from disembarking from the port made so famous in our century for a successful evacuation.44 There was 41 42

43

44

See the article referred to above, note 1. For this print see Emil Vogel, Alfred Einstein, François Lesure, and Claudio Sartori, Bibliografia della musica italiana vocale profana dal 1500 al 1700, 3 vols. (Pomezia: Staderini-Minkoff, 1977) [= Il Nuovo Vogel], vol. 1, p. 29. On Alcarotto see New Grove s.v.”Alcarotto,” by Glenn Watkins. See Léon van der Essen, Alexandre Farnèse, Prince de Parme, Gouverneur générale des Pays-Bas (1545–1592), 5 vols. (Brussels: Librairie nationale d’art et d’histoire, 1933–7), passim. Van der Essen’s magisterial biography is almost exclusively concerned with Alessandro’s military campaigns. Garrett Mattingly, The Armada (Boston: Houghton-Mifflin, 1959; reprint 1987), pp. 314–25.

193

ja m e s h a a r plenty of blame to be shared for the failure of the Armada; but Alessandro received a great deal of personal criticism, and was forced to defend himself to Philip II and others through the fall – even to December – of 1588.45 If he heard Turnhout’s opening madrigal, or read the dedicatory sonnet it sets, he must have had mixed feelings: Sotto l’insegno in van de’ Duci suoi Contra il Belga l’Iberia armò le schiere Che genti debellar tante e si fiere Palma è fatal sol de’ Romani Heroi. Tal pria Cesar le vinse, e Druso puoi. Hor tu Signor le domi e de l’altere Città, Provincie, e squadre lor’ guerriere Ergi al ciel trionfante I Gigli tuoi. O famoso Alessandro o de la gloria De tuoi forti Quiriti emula prole O Magno piu di lui donde t’appelli Vinse e gli anzi fugò popoli imbelli Ai trofei non avezzi hai tu vittoria Di chi vincer talhor pugnando suole.

Alessandro, who patronized artists and literary men for propaganda purposes if for no other reason, was used to being hailed as a new Alexander, a new Hercules; Turnhout was simply unlucky in his timing.46 Alessandro had retained his mother’s choirmaster, Pierre du Hotz; it is not clear whether Turnhout, who may have returned to Brussels during the early 1580s when his post at Malines became impossible because of religious strife, succeeded him directly, but in a document of 1596 he says that he had been in his post for ten years.47 He was certainly not well known as a composer, but he must have had a reputation for competence. There is little to suggest that Alessandro, almost constantly with his army, had time or inclination for music. During his youthful years in Spain (1559–65) Alessandro, who is said never to have been interested in studious pursuits, was none the 45

46

47

Colin Martin and Geoffrey Parker, The Spanish Armada (London: Norton, 1988), pp. 265–6, 290. Felipe Fernández-Armesto, The Spanish Armada: The Experience of War in 1588 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), pp. 84, 100. Van der Straeten, La Musique aux Pays-Bas, vol. 3, p. 322.

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t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ less put on a regime of study, together with Don Juan of Austria and the illfated Don Carlos of Spain (what a bundle for a tutor to handle!), which included one hour a day for a “leçon de chant et de musique.”48 Whether this was enough to make him a discerning musical patron may be doubted, but like all educated aristocrats of the time he knew something of the art. The contents of Turnhout’s volume are described in the Appendix to this study. Enough has been said to show that the music of Lasso must have been readily accessible to him; but did the name of Lasso have special meaning in the Brussels of the 1580s? Surely it must have. Lasso was by then the most famous musician of his day, as Rore had been of his.And both were from the south, Catholic Netherlands; both had had close connections with figures of power and eminence in the region. It seems pardonable exaggeration to say that they may have formed part of a pantheon of local composers, just as they were to do for Fétis and Kiesewetter nearly three centuries later. Of the twenty madrigals in the volume, ten set texts used by Lasso, several chosen by him alone or by a very small number of composers. Turnhout, by inclination a composer of canzonetta-madrigals, did not attempt an approach to Lasso’s style; but here and there he acknowledged his debt to Lasso by a quick allusion to the latter’s music, as Examples 9.1–4 show. Turnhout begins several of his pieces with reference to Lasso’s exordia. In Example 9.1 Lasso’s altus, which starts alone, is echoed by Turnhout’s sexta, starting by itself and continuing with a melody aping the contours of Lasso’s line. Example 9.2 shows Turnhout reproducing not only the signature la-sol but the solmization of the whole of Lasso’s opening phrase. Turnhout’s imitation of Lasso in Example 9.3 is less exact, but he recognizes and rather ineffectively copies the older composer’s vivid setting of the opening words, in which the melodic line seems to peer into the distance (“Ben veggio di lontano”). In Example 9.4 Lasso’s majestic voicing of the opening words of Petrarch’s Canzoniere is clearly imitated by Turnhout, who nevertheless lowers the tone of simple grandeur in his model by continuing in Marenzio-ish chromatic fashion, here rather out of place. Only a musician of the time (or an allusion-happy twentieth-century musicologist?) would recognize these, but they may have meaning all the same, a modest bow to the “divin Orlande.” One wonders if Lasso was given a copy of this volume. 48

Van der Essen, Alexandre Farnèse, vol. 1, pp. 25, 69.

195

ja m e s h a a r (a)

(T, 5, B tacent)

1

˙

w

6

&

C

&Ó

A

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bel

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bel

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(B tacet)

w

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bel -

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ta

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(b)

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Example 9.1: “O beltà rara” (a) Turnhout; (b) Lasso (a)

&c Ó

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Que

(b)

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sti

son

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las

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Ex. 9.2b

& b C ˙.

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Que

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las

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w

w

que

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Example 9.2: “Questi son lasso, questi” (a) Turnhout, sexta vox; (b) Lasso, cantus (a)

&

Ex. 9.3a

Ben

(b)

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Ex. 9.3b

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il

w

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œ

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lon - ta

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no

œ dol -

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ce

lu

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Example 9.3: “Ben veggio di lontano” (a) Turnhout, cantus; (b) Lasso, cantus

196

œ me

˙

˙

ce

lu

˙ -

me

t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ (a)

1

(T, 5a, B tacent)

& c ˙

Cantus

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Voi, 6a

& c Ó

Altus

& c Ó

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(b) Cantus

& C „

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voi

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Altus

w

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Tenor

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Bassus

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-

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Example 9.4: “Voi ch’ascoltate in rime sparse il suono” (a) Turnhout; (b) Lasso

For the remainder of the volume Turnhout’s sources are less clear. Philippe de Monte, another Flemish composer of international fame and one in Habsburg service, set “Dolce mio caro e pretioso albergo,”a sonnet of which Turnhout composed the octet (no. 20). Rore is less well represented than one might expect, and there is some overlap of texts set by him and by Lasso. But the surprising appearance of an ottava stanza,“Misero stato degli amanti in queste” (no. 19), of which there is only one other setting, part of a cycle by Palestrina, called in its printed source “Giannetto” – whom Turnhout may not have recognized as the famous Roman composer – can be explained by the fact that this cycle, Da fuoco sì bella nasce il mio ardore, appeared in Rore’s Secondo libro a 4 (1557, 1569, 1571).49 49

Il Nuovo Vogel, vol. 2, pp. 1504–06, nos. 2429–31. On Palestrina’s cycle see James Haar, “Pace non trovo: A Study in Literary and Musical Parody,” Musica Disciplina, 10 (1966), pp. 95–149.

197

ja m e s h a a r Given Marenzio’s popularity in the Netherlands in the 1580s, Turnhout’s choice of three texts (nos. 9, 13, and a piece appearing in an Antwerp anthology of 1591) is not surprising. If Guglielmo Textoris was a Flemish musician (resident in Italy) Turnhout’s selection of a sonnet (no. 18) set by him may be explainable. Textoris’s Libro primo a 5 (1566) is dedicated to Jacopo Pinsonio A Steinhueisen, probably a member of a wellknown and Habsburg-connected Flemish family.50 There remain four pieces to be accounted for, other than the opening dedicatory piece, clearly of local origin. No. 2, a Petrarch sonnet popular with composers from Verdelot through the late sixteenth century, could also have been available from Petrarch’s Canzoniere, a copy of which was surely ready at hand to any madrigalist. There are three unica, nos. 11, 16, and 17. These may have been set in madrigal volumes no longer extant, or have been the work, like the opening dedicatory sonnet, of someone active as a madrigal poet in circles close to Turnhout. In sum, Turnhout’s madrigal book stands as evidence of a kind of “national” cultural awareness in late sixteenth-century Franco-Flemish society, something that must have been very precious during this turbulent period in Netherlandish history. And chief among the musical heroes in this society was Orlando di Lasso, or Roland de Lassus, of Mons and Antwerp. 50

A Guillaume de Steenhuys (1558–1638), son of a prominent official, was a lawyer and councillor in Malines and Brussels. See Biographie nationale, vol. 23, cols. 756–8.

198

t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾

Appendix Giovan Turnhout, Il Primo Libro de Madrigali a Sei Voci (Antwerp: Pietro Phalesio and Giovanni Bellero, 1589) No. 1, fol. 2

2, fol. 3

Capoverso Sotto l’ingegno in van de Duci suoi; 2a: O famoso Alessandro Quando Amor i begl’ occhi a terra inchina

Poet anon. sonnet

Remarks Dedicatory sonnet addressed to Alessandro Farnese

Petrarch, octet of sonnet (CLXVII)

Frequently set by composers beginning with Verdelot (1533) and including Fogliano (1547), Micheli (1564), Vinci (1567), and Corona (1574). Only Lasso (1567) and Andrea Gabrieli (1566) are known to have set this text. Their settings, of which Lasso’s is probably the earlier, are related. Turnhout’s sexta, which opens the piece, seems drawn from Lasso’s altus, which also begins alone. Lasso’s five-voice setting (1563) is the only other use of this text known to me. Boetticher’s reference to a setting by F. Viola (Lasso, 309) is in error. Once again Turnhout seems to refer to Lasso’s opening gesture in his sexta vox. Five-voice settings exist by Lasso (1563) as well as by Monte (1570, 1574) and Rore (1542). Turnhout’s version seems unrelated to any of these.

3, fol. 3v

O beltà rara o santi modi adorni

anon. madrigal

4, fol. 4

Questi son lasso, questi

anon. madrigal

5, fol. 4v

Amor che vedi ogni pensieri aperti

Petrarch, octet of sonnet (CXLIII)

199

ja m e s h a a r No. 6, fol. 5

Capoverso Poet Ben veggio di lontan Petrarch, sestet il dolce lume of preceding sonnet

7, fol. 5v

Bella guerriera mia perche sì spesso

8, fol. 6

Come va’l mondo hor mi dilett’ e piace

9, fol. 6v

Lasso quand’havran fin tanti sospiri

200

Remarks Turnhout does not indicate this as a seconda parte; neither do Lasso (1563) or Monte (1570); in Rore it is so marked. Lasso’s opening gesture seems to be imitated by Turnhout. Bembo, sonnet, Set for five voices by Lasso octet [Bembo’s (1563), by Perissone Cambio authorship is for four (1554). Turnhout pointed out by uses the same cleffing as Leuchtmann, Lasso but the settings seem SW2, vol. 4, unrelated. Boetticher, Lasso, p. xxx.] 309, sees a “weak” imitation of Lasso by Turnhout in the closing phrase of the piece. Petrarch, octet Not an especially popular of sonnet text among musicians, this (CCXC) sonnet was set by Lasso (1567); there are also settings by Rossetti (1566), Merlo (1567), and Balbi (1570), all of the complete sonnet in two parts. anon. A setting of this text is in canzonetta Marenzio’s Libro primo delle villanelle a 3 (1584), a source used twice in Turnhout’s book (see no. 13) and again for the six-voice “Vorria parlare e dire” printed in Phalèse’s Melodia Olympica (RISM 159110). Whether Turnhout cites Marenzio’s opening, or both composers used the la-sol figure as a matter of course is hard to determine.

t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾ No. 10, fol. 7

Capoverso Quel dolce suon per cui chiaro s’intende

Poet anon. sonnet octet

11, fol. 7v

Udite i miei lamenti

anon. canzonetta

12, fol. 8

Il tempo passa e l’hore son sì pronte

13, fol. 8v

Se il dolce sguardo del divin tuo volto

14, fol. 9

Voi ch’ascoltate in rime spars’ il suono

Petrarch, canzone stanza (second stanza of XXXVII, Si è debile il filo) anon. Not the Petrarchan sonnet canzonetta (CLXXXIII) popular with several generations of madrigalists. Other settings of the text used by Turnhout include one by Castro (1594), Ferretti (1567), and Marenzio (1584), the latter Turnhout’s most likely source. Petrarch, octet Set by a number of of sonnet (I) composers. Lasso’s version (1567) seems to be echoed by Turnhout at the beginning of his setting.

201

Remarks Set by C. Ameyden in Lasso’s Terzo Libro of 1563; no other settings are known to me. Could Lasso have known Ameyden, a papal singer who studied in Antwerp about the time of Lasso’s residence there? On Ameyden see New Grove s.v. “Ameyden,” by Lavern J. Wagner. No other setting of this text is known to me. Madrigals, by Guarini and others, beginning “Udite amanti” were popular in the late sixteenth century. Set by Rampollini as part of a cycle. Otherwise Lasso’s version (1567) is the only one known.

ja m e s h a a r No. 15, fol. 9v

Capoverso Poet Occhi piangete Petrarch, octet accompagnate il core of sonnet (LXXIV)

16, fol. 10

O fortuna crudel di me ti satia Poi che madonn’ il mio martir non crede Dove fuggi crudele ahi che fuggendo

anon. ottava stanza anon. sonnet octet anon. sonnet octet

19, fol. 11v

Misero stato degli amanti in quante

Virginia Salvi, ottava stanza (the twelfth in a fourteenstanza cycle)

20, fol. 12

Dolce mio caro e pretioso albergo

D. Veniero, sonnet octet

17, fol. 10v 18, fol. 11

202

Remarks A text popular with madrigalists throughout the century. Lasso’s four-voice setting (1555) opens with a falling motive, as does that of Turnhout; but the latter’s three-voice beginning is much closer in spirit to the villanella. The setting of S. Cornet (1581), which I have not seen, might be relevant here. No other settings of this text are known to me. Another unicum. This text was set by G. Textoris (1566). He may have been a Fleming; his print (Libro primo a 5) is dedicated to Jacopo Pinsonio A Steinhueisen and some of its contents are said to have been written for him. The only other setting of this text, of which no printed sixteenth-century edition is known, is that of Palestrina, part of his cycle Da fuoco così bel nasce il mio ardore, published in RISM 155724. This sonnet is set entire in Monte’s Quarto libro a 4 (1581), a copy of which is today in the Bibl. Royale in Brussels.

10 Modal ordering within Orlando di Lasso’s publications peter bergquist

In recent years a number of scholars have devoted increasing attention to the structure of music prints in the sixteenth century. The reasons why composers or publishers decided on the order of the individual items in a collection are not always obvious. A set of Magnificats would of course appear in the order of the eight reciting tones that served as their cantus firmi,and some collections of motets were organized according to liturgical considerations, but the texts themselves, either Latin or vernacular, did not often imply a specific order when they were grouped in a publication. Harold Powers has articulated most clearly how traits of the music itself came to be used as an organizing factor.1 He observed that early sixteenthcentury collections such as those of Petrucci have “no discernible musical basis for their arrangement,” while later in the century compositions came to be grouped according to three criteria: (1) whether cantus durus or cantus mollis governed, that is, whether the signature contained no flat or one; (2) whether the range was relatively lower or higher as shown by one of the two standard combinations of clefs, the so-called chiavette or “high” clefs and the normal or “low”clefs; (3) the final, expressed as the lowest note in the last sonority (or in modern terms, the root of the closing triad).2 A 1

2

Harold Powers, “Tonal Types and Modal Categories in Renaissance Polyphony,” Journal of the American Musicological Society, 34 (1981), pp. 428–70, is his most fundamental study that bears on the subject of this paper. His other works that treat the same material include “Modal Representation in Polyphonic Offertories,” Early Music History, 2 (1982), pp. 43–86; “Is Mode Real? Pietro Aron, the Octenary System, and Polyphony,” Basler Jahrbuch für historische Musikpraxis, 16 (1992), pp. 9–52; and “Anomalous Modalities,” Orlando di Lasso in der Musikgeschichte. Bericht über das Symposion der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, München, 4.–6. July 1994 (Munich: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), pp. 221–42. Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 436–7.

203

peter bergquist collection might group its contents according to any of these criteria, singly or in combination. The three criteria of clef, signature, and final in their various combinations were taken by Siegfried Hermelink to distinguish Tonartentypen or as Powers puts it, “tonal types.”3 Since the finals were in practice almost always confined to the six pitches of the natural hexachord, a total of twenty-four tonal types could in principle exist, of which the two with a flat signature and E as final were never used. Hermelink attempted to show that musical behavior of the individual tonal types was so diverse that they could not be subsumed under a system of either eight or twelve modes. Powers demonstrated, however, that composers and publishers in the later sixteenth century increasingly used the tonal types to represent eight or twelve modes in numerical order within a publication or other group of compositions. This is not to say that the pieces were composed “in a mode,” but that they can represent a mode when placed in a suitable context. How a polyphonic composition may “be in” or express a mode is a completely different subject than how it may represent a mode. The latter can be accomplished simply through the combination of clef, signature, and final, whereas the musical behavior that might cause a piece to express a mode is a larger issue. The possibility of modal representation does not mean that every piece of sixteenth-century polyphony is in or represents or was composed in a mode.4 It is well known that Lasso held to the traditional system of eight modes rather than adapting the twelve-mode system propounded by Glareanus and Zarlino. Powers described several publications of Lasso that are modally ordered, assigning the tonal types to represent members of the eight-mode system;5 this study follows his lead and explores contemporary publications of Lasso’s music as thoroughly as possible. The emphasis is on publications over which Lasso had some control, that is, those by publishers with whom he dealt directly. Only motets and settings of vernacular texts are considered, since a collection of masses would not usually include enough pieces to be modally ordered (the necessary minimum would be 3

4 5

Siegfried Hermelink, Dispositiones modorum (Tutzing: Schneider, 1960); Powers, “Tonal Types,” p. 439. See especially Powers, “Anomalous Modalities,” p. 226, on this point. “Tonal Types,” passim, and “Anomalous Modalities,” passim.

204

m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s around sixteen), and Magnificats and other liturgical music would be ordered on different principles. Table 10.1 lists the tonal types used by Lasso in modally ordered collections and the modes that they represent. The table is based on the findings of Powers and Bernhard Meier, which are taken as axiomatic for this study.6 Lasso’s usage is essentially similar to that of his contemporaries, differing mainly in how he treats pieces with C or A as final. He does not use every possible tonal type in his modally ordered collections, though some others appear elsewhere in his output. The two clef combinations referred to in Table 10.1 are standard for the period, with the low or “normal”clefs of c1 c3 c4 f4 for the basic SATB group and the high clefs or chiavette of g2 c2 c3 f 3 (or c4). When there are more than four voices, the added parts normally duplicate the range and clef of one of the basic four. The high and low clefs typically distinguish authentic from plagal modes respectively, based in the first place on the ambitus of the tenor, which continued to be considered the leading voice for purposes of determining the mode. A signature of one flat was sometimes used to cause a “transposition”of one of the normal finals of modal theory, e.g., mode 1 or 2 transposed from final on D to final on G, a perfect fourth higher. Mode 1 then may be represented both by a final on D and no flat in the signature (though occasionally the flat is used) and by a final on G with one flat. Mode 2 was almost never used untransposed, since it would have to be notated lower than normal singing ranges. It frequently appeared transposed to G with one flat, distinguished from mode 1 by the low clefs. Mode 2 might also be notated in high clefs and no flat with final on D (hereafter represented as H/0/D).Since mode 1 in D used the low clefs,this led to the paradoxical result that the authentic mode used the low clefs and the plagal mode the high, which is contrary to the normal expectation. Modes 3 and 4 were rarely distinguished from each other in polyphony, either in theory or practice, and Lasso used the combination L/0/E to represent this composite mode 3/4, which could also be represented transposed as H/1/A. A few examples represent mode 4 by unusually low clefs, c2 c4 f3 f 5. For Lasso as for most other sixteenth-century composers, pieces in F almost by 6

Powers, “Tonal Types” and other works cited above; Bernhard Meier, The Modes of Classical Vocal Polyphony, trans. Ellen Beebe (New York: Broude, 1988; original German edition, Utrecht: Oosthoek, Scheltema & Holkema, 1974).

205

peter bergquist Table 10.1 “Tonal types” used by Lasso in modally ordered collections and the modes they represent, based on Harold Powers, “Tonal Types” Clefs: High = g2 c2 c3 f3 (or c4); Low = c1 c3 c4 f4

Final: Lowest tone of the last Mode: The mode that Signature: 1 = one chord in a given each combination flat; 0 = no flats composition represents

Low High Low High Low

0 (occasionally 1) 1 1 0 0

D G G D E

c2 c4 f3 f5 High (or Low – infrequent) High Low High High Low (only one ex.) Low High High Low

0 1

E A

1 1 transposed a 4th up 2 transposed a 4th up 2 transposed an 8ve up 3/4 (authentic–plagal distinction not often made) 4 (rare) 3/4 transposed a 4th up

1 (rarely 0) 1 (rarely 0) 0 0 0 0 1 0 0

F F C G C G C A A

5 6 6 transposed a 5th up 7 7 transposed a 5th down 8 8 transposed a 4th up A (authentic?) A (plagal?)

definition used a flat in the signature, and he like many others used them to represent modes 5 and 6. His system included no “ionian” modes. Mode 6 was also represented transposed a fifth higher by H/0/C.Modes 7 and 8 were represented at their standard pitch levels by H/0/G and L/0/G respectively. Mode 8 was also transposed a fourth higher to H/1/C. Some theorists classed H/0/C and L/0/C as mode 7 and 8 respectively, but Lasso usually associated such pieces with mode 6; they never represent mode 7 or 8 in his modally ordered publications. Pieces in H/0/A or L/0/A are included in a number of Lasso’s modally ordered publications. In sixteenth-century theory and practice these pieces were sometimes classed as mode 3 (especially L/0/A) or mode 1 or 2 (especially H/0/A). Powers showed that although Palestrina at least once used 206

m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s H/0/A to represent mode 1 in a modally ordered collection, Lasso’s usage in such collections is anomalous.7 Powers cited only two Lasso collections in which H/0/A was used, but the present study has uncovered several more, and this more complete information fills out the picture considerably. At the end of this paper I will summarize the information and place it in conjunction with my recent study of all of Lasso’s pieces in H/0/A and L/0/A.8 Another basic question that the present study must address is Lasso’s intentions regarding modal collections. How much does modal ordering reflect his own wishes as distinct from decisions made by his publisher or editor? The best approach is to consider both place and time, to examine the practice of Lasso’s publishers in various parts of Europe and how that practice changed in time if at all.

Italy We know of no Italian publications devoted exclusively to Lasso’s music that are modally ordered. Powers mentions several Italian prints that show such ordering, but none of them is of Lasso’s music. His madrigal books published in Italy do not consider clef, signature, and final all together as factors in their organization. Some of them show a tendency to group by clef, with all the pieces in low clefs separated from those in high clefs, as in Lasso’s earliest Italian publication, his first book of five-voice madrigals (Venice: Gardano, RISM 1555c). In this book the first fifteen pieces are in low clefs, nos. 16–20 are in high clefs, and nos. 21–2 in low clefs.9 Perhaps the two final pieces were given their position so as to group them with nos. 19–20, with which they share the final of F and signature of one flat. The collection is clearly ordered on the basis of musical characteristics rather than the texts, with each tonal type segregated from the others. Another option was to group all the pieces in cantus durus separately from those in cantus mollis, as in the third book of five-voice madrigals (Rome: Barrè, RISM 1563c). Ordering is once again on the basis of musical traits, 7 8

9

Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 449–50. Peter Bergquist, “The Modality of Orlando di Lasso’s Compositions in ‘A Minor’,” Orlando di Lasso in der Musikgeschichte, pp. 7–18. The ordering of all of Lasso’s madrigal books may easily be observed in SW and SW2, vols. 2, 4, and 6, which publish the madrigal books in their original orders.

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peter bergquist with each of the two major groups further subdivided on the basis of clefs and finals. No modal ordering results, in part because the modes that could be represented are confined to modes 1–4.10 Lasso’s Italian motet publications follow similar patterns. Powers noted that none of the Lasso motet books of Antonio Gardano, Lasso’s principal Italian publisher, is modally ordered.11 They may be grouped in other ways, as he observes of Gardano’s 1562 re-edition of the motets first published by Montanus and Neuber in Nuremberg in the same year (RISM 1562c and 1562a respectively). The Nuremberg edition is modally ordered, but Gardano rearranges the pieces in a way that only partially retains the original grouping and removes the pieces from any possible modal ordering. Powers notes that Gardano’s Book IV (RISM 1566e) seems to be ordered primarily by final, subdivided by cleffing;12 liturgical order may also play a role at the beginning of the book.13

Netherlands Lasso’s principal publishers in the Netherlands were Jean Laet and Tielman Susato in Antwerp and Pierre Phalèse in Louvain (later Antwerp). Laet’s most notable publication of Lasso’s music was his first motet book (RISM 1556a), in which the individual tonal types are grouped together but not ordered throughout by clef, signature, nor final. Susato published a large number of anthologies from 1544 on that Powers showed to be modally ordered, some within a single publication, others in a series of publications in which all pieces within a book were stated to be in a single mode.14 Most of Susato’s publications were anthologies, and his only publication exclusively devoted to Lasso was a collection of chansons, RISM 1564c (see Table 10.2). The contents of this book are in perfect modal order, except for two pieces in mode 3/4 that are separated from their fellows, as is the final chanson in mode 8. The single chanson in L/0/A follows the main 10

12 14

Book V (SW and SW2, vol. 6; RISM 1585e), published in Germany, holds to the same principle, with all the pieces in cantus mollis at its head, followed by all those in cantus durus. The publisher of Book V, Katharina Gerlach in Nuremberg, issued a number of modally ordered Lasso prints in other genres; 11 Powers, “Tonal Types,” p. 461. these are discussed below. 13 Ibid. CM, vol. 5, p. xiii. Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 443–5, 468–9.

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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s

Table 10.2 RISM 1564c, Le premier livre de chansons à quatre parties (Antwerp, Susato) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

21–5 21–6 27–8 29–12 13–15 16–17 18–21 22 23–4, 27 25 26

H/1/G L/1/G H/0/D L/0/E H/1/F H/0/C H/0/G L/0/E L/0/G L/0/A L/0/E

1 tr 2 tr 2 tr 8ve 3/4 5 6 tr 7 3/4 8 A 3/4

group of pieces in mode 8, in other words, after the completion of the modal cycle. Pierre Phalèse the elder published many collections of Lasso’s music, and his son Pierre the younger continued to do so, sometimes in association with Jean Bellère in Antwerp, to which city the Phalèse press eventually moved. Most of Phalèse’s Lasso publications are reprints of collections previously published in France and Germany, so any modal ordering they may present is of no significance in determining Lasso’s own intentions, except as it duplicates modal ordering that Lasso may have established in the first edition. The only other Phalèse collection that appears to be modally ordered proclaims itself as such in its title: La Fleur des chansons d’Orlande de Lassus . . . toutes mises en ordre convenable selon leur tons (Antwerp: Pierre Phalèse & Jean Bellère, RISM 1592b). It is a publisher’s compilation, dedicated to the master of ceremonies of Mecheln Cathedral,and for that reason the original texts of several chansons were replaced by bowdlerized contrafacta.15 In this publication the four- and five-voice chansons appear in succession,and each group is modally ordered (see Table 10.3).The ordering of the five-voice chansons is not perfect, since representatives of mode 5 are 15

Helmut Hell and Horst Leuchtmann, Orlando di Lasso: Musik der Renaissance am Münchner Fürstenhof. Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Ausstellungskataloge 26 (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1982), p. 216.

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peter bergquist Table 10.3 RISM 1592b, La Fleur des chansons d’Orlande de Lassus . . .toutes mises en ordre convenable selon leur tons (Antwerp, Phalèse & Bellère) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Chansons a4 21–8 H/1/G 29 L/0/D 10–12 H/0/D 13–16 L/1/G [17–22 – Moresche first printed in 1555] 23–5 L/0/E 26–31 H/1/F 32–5 H/0/C 36–9 H/0/G 40–1 L/0/G 42–3 L/0/A Chansons a5 44–50 51–2 53–7 58–60 61–2 63–5 66–8 69 70

H/1/G L/0/D L/1/G H/0/D L/0/E L/1/F L/0/G H/0/C H/0/G

Mode represented 1 tr 1 2 tr 8ve 2 tr 3/4 5 6 tr 7 8 A 1 tr 1 2 tr 2 tr 8ve 3/4 6 8 6 tr 7

lacking altogether (only two examples of the tonal type H/1/F exist among all of Lasso’s five-voice chansons), and the chansons that represent mode 8 appear among those in mode 6.

France The firm of Adrian Le Roy and Robert Ballard in Paris was one of Lasso’s most important publishers through his lifetime and even afterwards. Lasso had a close personal relationship with Le Roy, with whom he stayed during his 1571 visit to Paris. Le Roy’s letter of 14 January 1574 transmitted the offer of Charles IX to Lasso to become the royal court com210

m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s poser.16 Le Roy and Ballard published numerous editions of Lasso’s music in all genres except the polyphonic lied, many of them first editions or authorized reprints, sometimes in large retrospective compilations. Many of the chansons first appeared in the publisher’s numbered series of chanson books, which were small collections of sixteen folios each; Lasso’s music first appears in these books in 1559. Most of the books were originally anthologies containing works by several composers, but as they were reissued over and over again in the course of as many as twenty or thirty years, their contents gradually changed in order to reflect the publisher’s sense of what was most popular and salable. In this way many of the books became devoted exclusively to Lasso.17 Each of the books would contain from sixteen to twenty chansons, which were not always sufficient for modal ordering, especially when several composers were represented. But when Book XVII, for instance, turned into an exclusively Lasso print in 1576, its four-voice chansons were placed in modal order, although the series is incomplete (see Table 10.4). Le Roy and Ballard’s larger collections of Lasso’s chansons are almost invariably modally ordered. Their first such collection was the Mellange (RISM 1570d), a retrospective compilation of almost all of Lasso’s previously published chansons with quite a number of new works added. The collection also included madrigals as well as several Latin motets with secular texts. RISM 1570d is substantially modally ordered (see Table 10.5). The four-voice chansons show some disorder at the beginning of the series, with modes 1 and 2 intermixed and one piece in mode 3/4 transposed included among them. The five-voice chansons are largely in modal order at first, though with no representatives of mode 7, since its tonal type (H/0/G) is rare among the five-voice chansons.When the Latin pieces begin to appear, however, the ordering largely breaks down. The four-voice chansons in L/0/A appear at the beginning of the book, the one for five voices in H/0/A between pieces in mode 2 and modes 3/4. In 1576 an expanded reissue appeared under the title Les meslanges 16

17

The letter is reproduced in facsimile and diplomatic transcription in F. Lesure and G. Thibault, Bibliographie des éditions d’Adrian le Roy et Robert Ballard (1551–1598) (Paris: Heugel et cie, 1955), pp. 36–7. A diplomatic transcription also appears in Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 311–12. This process is documented in detail in Leuchtmann’s preface to SW2, vol. 12.

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peter bergquist Table 10.4 RISM 1576n, Dixsetieme livre de chansons à quatre & cinq parties (Paris, Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

Chansons a4 21–3 24–5 26–11 12 13–16 – Chansons a5

H/1/G L/1/G L/0/E H/1/F

1 tr 2 tr 3/4 5

(RISM 1576i); the title indicates that Lasso supervised this edition. The four- and five-voice chansons are both completely modally ordered, with only one exception, and the Latin and Italian pieces are separated from the chansons (see Table 10.6). The anomalously positioned chanson is no. 73, “Un mesnagier viellard,”which is in L/I/F but is placed among the representatives of mode 2 rather than mode 6.18 Mode 7 is again unrepresented in the five-voice pieces, and a single representative of mode 4 with its characteristic unusually low clefs appears as no. 91. The four-voice pieces in L/0/A precede mode 1, while nos. 92–3 in H/0/A follow the five-voice chansons that represent mode 8. The Latin settings in five voices, nos. 100–14, observe modal order only imperfectly. Ten years later Le Roy and Ballard reissued Les meslanges (RISM 1586g) with the same contents but with a slightly changed ordering. The largest difference is that in the four-voice chansons the pieces in L/0/E and H/1/A that represent mode 3/4 are inserted between the pieces in L/0/A and the representatives of mode 1. Apart from this, the modal ordering of RISM 1576i is retained in RISM 1586g, despite a few other small adjustments. Le Roy and Ballard’s Livre de chansons nouvelles for five and eight voices (RISM 1571f) was never incorporated into either printing of Les meslanges. Though it contains only sixteen five-voice chansons, they are in perfect modal order, with the single chanson in H/0/A at the end of the series following mode 8 (see Table 10.7). The Continvation du meslanges 18

This chanson had been placed among the Latin pieces in RISM 1570d. Perhaps in the process of reorganizing the chansons for RISM 1576i it was inadvertently moved to the wrong position.

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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s Table 10.5 RISM 1570d, Mellange d’Orlande de Lassus (Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode

Chansons a4 21–3 24 25 26–7 28 29–10 11–15 (15=L) 16–21 22–8 29–35 36–7, 39L 38, 40–2 43–4

L/0/A H/0/D H/1/A H/1/G L/0/D H/0/D L/1/G H/1/G L/0/E H/1/F H/0/C H/0/G L/0/G

A 2 tr 8ve 3/4 tr 1 tr 1 2 tr 8ve 2 tr 1 tr 3/4 5 6 tr 7 8

Chansons a5 45–8 49–50 51, 53–5 52 56–7 58 59–61 62 63 64–6 67 68–70, 71L

H/1/G L/0/D L/1/G H/1/G H/0/D H/0/A L/0/E H/1/A H/1/F L/1/F H/0/C L/0/G

1 tr 1 2 tr 1 tr 2 tr 8ve A 3/4 3/4 tr 5 6 6 tr 8

Note: 72–91 – mostly L, a few I and Fr; modal ordering not maintained (L = Latin text; I = Italian text)

(RISM 1584f) includes more settings of Italian than French texts, many of the former reprinted. Only the five-voice madrigals are numerous enough to be modally ordered, and they do not clearly exhibit any such ordering. Le Roy and Ballard seemingly found Lasso’s motets to be as popular as his chansons, and they frequently put out motet books devoted exclusively to Lasso, beginning in 1564. Many of these books closely followed similar publications of the same motets in Germany, probably with Lasso’s 213

peter bergquist Table 10.6 RISM 1576i, Les meslanges...revevz par lvy, et avgmentez (Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Chansons a4 (SW, vol. 12) 21–5 L/0/A 26–14 H/1/G 15–16 L/0/D 17–20 L/1/G 21–4 H/0/D 25, 27–36 L/0/E 26 H/1/A 37–43 H/1/F 44–8 H/0/C 49–52 H/0/G 53–6 L/0/G 57–9 – Vers latins a4 Chansons a5 (SW, vol. 14) 60–1 L/0/D 62–7 H/1/G 68–72 L/1/G 73 [ending out L/1/F of mode?] 74–5 L/1/G 76–7 H/0/D 78–80 L/0/E 81 H/1/A 82 H/1/F 83–4, 86 L/1/F 85, 87 H/0/C 88–90 L/0/G 91 c2–f 5/0/E 92–3 H/0/A

Mode represented A 1 tr 1 2 tr 2 tr 8ve 3/4 3/4 tr 5 6 tr 7 8

1 1 tr 2 tr 6? 2? 2 2 tr 8ve 3/4 3/4 tr 5 6 6 tr 8 4 A

Note: 94–9 – Vers italiens a5; 100–14 – Vers latins a5; 115–17 – Vers latins a6; 120–6 – Dialogues a8; 127 – Dialogue a10

consent.With few exceptions Le Roy and Ballard’s motet books are modally ordered. The earliest of their collections, Primus liber concentuum sacrorum for five and six voices (RISM 1564b), gathered together the contents of Lasso’s two earliest motet books, RISM 1556a and 1562a, the latter modally ordered in its original edition.All the five-voice motets in RISM 1564b were put into modal order, with one piece in H/0/A at the end of the series. The 214

m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s Table 10.7 RISM 1571f, Livre de chansons nouvelles a5 & a8 (Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

Chansons a5 21–4 25–6 25–7 28–9 10–11 12–13 14 15 16 17–18 – Chansons a8

H/1/G L/1/G H/0/D L/0/E H/1/F L/1/F H/0/G L/0/G H/0/A

1 tr 2 tr 2 tr 8ve 3/4 5 6 7 8 A

six-voice motets were too few to put in modal order, and this was perhaps true throughout Le Roy and Ballard’s next book of Lasso’s motets, Modulorum secundum volumen (RISM 1565a) for four to ten voices, in which no group is modally ordered.19 Between 1571 and 1573 Le Roy and Ballard published six books of Lasso motets. They include a significant number of new pieces that Lasso may have composed during and after his visit to Paris, as well as motets that had been published in Italy and Germany but not yet in France.All six are in almost perfect modal ordering. The one book that consisted entirely of first editions, Moduli quinis vocibus (RISM 1571a), may serve as an example (see Table 10.8). The only motet apparently out of modal order is no. 7,“Si bona suscepimus,” which according to its tonal type should represent mode 3/4, but is placed within the mode 2 group. In the six motet books of 1571–3 two pieces in H/0/A appear, following the representatives of mode 3/4 and mode 8 respectively. In a large motet book a few years later, Moduli quatuor 5.6.7.8. et novem vocum (RISM 1577e), eleven of its fifty-five pieces are first editions. Only the six-voice motets (nos. 21–50) are sufficiently numerous to be modally ordered, though somewhat imperfectly (see Table 10.9). Four rep19

Further on these collections see CM, vol. 4, which includes all the motets from these two books that were first editions. The contents of both books are listed ibid., pp. xii–xiii.

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peter bergquist Table 10.8 RISM 1571a, Moduli quinis vocibus (Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

21–4 25–6 25–7 25–8 29–11 12–13 14–15 16–17 18–19

H/1/G L/1/G L/1/A L/1/G L/0/E H/1/F L/1/F H/0/G L/0/G

1 tr 2 tr 3/4 tr 2 tr 3/4 5 6 7 8

Table 10.9 RISM 1577e, Moduli quatuor 5.6.7.8. et novem vocum (Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

1–12 – Motets a4; 13–20 – Motets a5 Motets a6 21–4 L/0/G 25, 28 H/1/G 26, 27, 29 L/0/D 30 L/1/G 31 H/0/D 32 L/0/D 33–40 L/1/G 41 H/0/A 42, 44 L/0/E 43 H/1/A 45–6 H/1/F 47 L/1/F 48 L/0/F 49–50 L/0/G 51–3 a7; 54 a8; 55 a9

Mode represented

8 1 tr 1 2 tr 2 tr 8ve 1 2 tr A 3/4 3/4 tr 5 6 6 8

resentatives of mode 8 begin the group, which then continues with only minor disorder within modes 1 and 2 and no representatives of mode 7. No. 41, in H/0/A, appears between the representatives of modes 2 and 3/4. Le Roy and Ballard published four more large books of Lasso motets in 1587–8, which are modally ordered to a degree, though less strictly than 216

m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s Table 10.10 RISM 1587d, Sacrarum cantionum moduli a4 (Le Roy & Ballard) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

21–3 24–5 26–9, 12 10–11 13–17 18 19–22, 24–5 23, 26 27–9 30–8, 41 39–40 42 43 (a8 alternatim)

H/0/G L/0/D L/1/G H/0/A L/0/E L/1/A L/1/F H/0/C H/1/F L/0/C H/0/G L/1/G

1 tr 1 2 tr A 3/4 3/4 6 6 tr 5 8 7 2

those of 1571–3. The Sacrarum cantionum moduli for four voices (RISM 1587d) is an especially interesting example, since much of it had previously appeared two times with different methods of organization.20 The earliest source for most of these motets is Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Mus. Ms. 2744, which contains a cycle of Lasso’s four- and five-voice settings of offertories for Advent and Lent, arranged in calendrical order. The manuscript bears dates between 1581 and 1583. In 1585 Lasso published many of the four-voice offertories and a few other motets in Sacrae cantiones quatuor vocum (Munich: Adam Berg, RISM 1585a); in this collection the pieces were grouped by tonal type, with signature and cleffing as the primary factors. Only the subgroups of these categories were sorted according to final, so that modal ordering did not result. Le Roy and Ballard in RISM 1587d placed the motets in modal order, also adding a few more four-voice settings of offertory texts that had not appeared in RISM 1585a (see Table 10.10). The ordering was not perfect, since mode 6 preceded mode 5 and mode 8 preceded mode 7. Two pieces in H/0/A follow the repre20

A more detailed account of these sources and their relationships may be found in Powers, “Modal Representation.” See also David Crook’s preface to CM, vol. 14, which publishes the contents of RISM 1585a.

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peter bergquist sentatives of mode 2.21 The three motet books of 1588 (RISM 1588c, d, and e) are in similarly imperfect modal order, with the plagal representatives several times preceding the authentic.In the four-voice motets of 1588c one in H/0/A appears following mode 8 and preceding mode 3/4, which is out of sequence; in 1588d three in H/0/A follow mode 2 and precede mode 1; and in 1588e three in H/0/A follow those in mode 6 and precede mode 3/4, which is out of sequence. It is clear that modal ordering was a fundamental principle in Le Roy and Ballard’s publications of Lasso’s music. To what extent this is true in their other publications is a question that merits further investigation.

Germany In the German realms Lasso had two principal publishers,Adam Berg in Munich and the firm of Montanus and Neuber, with its successors Theodor Gerlach and his widow Katharina Gerlach, in Nuremberg. Both houses issued a number of modally ordered publications by Lasso, though this principle was by no means so pervasive as with Le Roy and Ballard in Paris. Even before any of his music was printed in Germany, Lasso around 1560 composed his earliest modally ordered collection of any sort, the famous Seven Penitential Psalms with the psalm-motet “Laudate Dominum de caelis.” Many other modally ordered collections were probably assembled in that order after composition, but in this case modal ordering was clearly a pre-compositional decision on Lasso’s part. He chose to represent modes 1–7 in the Seven Penitential Psalms, which had existed for centuries as a liturgical unit, then added the psalm-motet to them to represent mode 8. In this cycle modes 3 and 4 are clearly differentiated, contrary to the usual practice, with mode 4 represented by an unusually low combination of clefs.22 Powers has discussed several of Lasso’s German motet books that are 21

22

Powers, “Modal Representation,” p. 57, Table 4, indicates that these pieces represent mode 3, while pieces in L/0/E represent mode 4. This is contrary to Lasso’s usual practice and to that of Le Roy and Ballard. Powers discusses this cycle in “Tonal Types,” pp. 446–8, and “Anomalous Modalities,” passim.

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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s modally ordered, notably the five-voice Sacrae cantiones of RISM 1562a (Nuremberg: Montanus & Neuber), two complementary books from Berg in 1569 and 1570 (Cantiones aliquot quinque vocum [RISM 1569a] and Cantionum sacrarum sex vocum fasciculus [RISM 1570c]), the Cantiones ad duas vocum (Berg, RISM 1577c), a large collection of reprints from Gerlach (RISM 1582c), and Lasso’s last motet book, Cantiones sacrae sex vocum (Graz: Georg Widmanstetter, RISM 1594a).23 His last composition, Lagrime di San Pietro (Berg, RISM 1595a), a cycle of spiritual madrigals, is also modally ordered. This cycle corresponds to the Penitential Psalms at the beginning of Lasso’s career in that both set a pre-existing cycle of texts, thus the modal ordering was a compositional choice. Lasso selected twenty poems from the larger poetic cycle by Luigi Tansillo, leaving the poems in the order established by Tansillo, then set successive groups so as to represent modes 1–7.24 Where mode 8 would be expected to appear, the final piece in the cycle, the Latin motet “Vide homo,” is rather in H/0/A. Powers argues persuasively that the modal cycle is broken for reasons of religious symbolism, to do both with the poems and Lasso’s own impending death.25 In the Graz motet book, RISM 1594a, the position of mode 7 is filled by two motets in H/0/A. David Crook suggests that this tonal type that had a “longstanding association . . . with tone-seven Magnificats”was used to represent mode 7 in the Graz motet book.26 These are the only appearances of the tonal type H/0/A in German modally ordered collections of Lasso’s motets. Some editions of Lasso’s lieder for five voices were also modally ordered. Book I (Munich: Adam Berg, RISM 1567l) is in perfect modal order, with one piece, “Frölich zu sein,” seemingly in L/0/A appearing between the representatives of modes 7 and 8 (see Table 10.11). However, it has been argued that this piece ends “out of mode” for expressive purposes, and that it should be understood as a representative of mode 8.27 Book II of 23

24

25 26

27

Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 451–2, 462–5; “Anomalous Modalities,” pp. 238–42. Further on these collections see the appropriate volumes of CM. On Lasso’s sources for the text of this cycle, see Fritz Jensch, “Orlando di Lassos Lagrime di San Pietro und ihr Text,” Musik in Bayern, 32 (1986), pp. 43–62, and the introduction to his edition of the Lagrime in SWNR, vol. 20. Powers, “Tonal Types,” p. 449. David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation Munich (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), pp. 142–4. Bergquist, “Compositions in ‘A Minor’,” p. 14 (with further references).

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peter bergquist Table 10.11 RISM 1567l, Neue Teütsche Liedlein mit Fünff Stimmen (Munich, Berg; SW vol. 18, 1ff.) Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

21, 2, 4–6 23 27–8 29–10 11 12 13 14 [ending “out of mode”?] 15

H/1/G L/0/D L/1/G L/0/E H/1/F L/1/F H/0/G L/0/A L/0/G

1 tr 1 2 tr 3/4 5 6 7 A? 8? 8

the lieder (Berg, RISM 1572g) is not modally ordered, and Book III (Berg, RISM 1576r) is only partially so. However, Katharina Gerlach’s Gesamtausgabe of all of the five-voice lieder in RISM 1583b, published “with the author’s consent,”rearranges the three earlier books substantially in modal order (see Table 10.12). The nine pieces with religious texts appear first and include no representatives of modes 7 and 8. The thirty-two settings of secular texts are in precise modal order, except for two pieces that seem to end out of mode, Nos. 22 (“Meine Fraw Hilgart”) and 39 (“Frölich zu sein”). The two pieces in H/0/A are placed between modes 2 and 3/4. One German publication remains to be discussed, the posthumous collected edition of Lasso’s motets, Magnum Opus Musicum (Munich: Nicholas Heinrich, RISM 1604a). In this collection Lasso’s sons Ferdinand and Rudolph published all of their father’s motets known to them, a total of 516. Only eleven motets escaped their notice, the authenticity of at least two of which is debatable.28 In MOM the basic organizing principle was the number of voice-parts; the collection begins with two-voice motets and continues in ascending order of voices until it ends with two motets for twelve voices each. Only recently has Horst Leuchtmann shown the next level of organization.29 Each group of motets for a given number of voices is 28

29

These eleven motets are published in SWNR, vol. 1, including the 1989 supplement. In CM, vol. 5, pp. xvi–xix, I detail the reasons why I believe that Lasso did not compose “Zachaee, festinans descende” and “Gloria Patri.” Leuchtmann, “Zum Ordnungsprinzip in Lassos Magnum Opus Musicum,” Musik in Bayern, 40 (1990), pp. 46–72.

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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s Table 10.12 RISM 1583b, Teutsche Lieder mit fünff Stimmen, zuvor unterschiedlich, jetzund aber mit des Herrn Authoris bewilligung inn ein Opus zusammen getruckt (Nuremberg, Gerlach) Number Religious texts 1–2 3 4 5 6 7–8 9 Secular texts 10, 12–16 11 17–21 22 [ending “out of mode”?] 23 24–5 26–30 31–2 33–4 35–8 39 [ending “out of mode”?] 40 41

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

H/1/G L/1/G H/1/G L/0/E H/1/F L/1/F H/0/C

1 tr 2 tr 1 tr 3/4 5 6 6 tr

H/1/G L/0/D L/1/G L/1/A H/0/D H/0/A L/0/E H/1/F L/1/F H/0/G L/0/A L/0/G H/1/C

1 tr 1 2 tr 3/4? 2? 2 tr 8ve A 3/4 5 6 7 A? 8? 8 8 tr

subdivided into four categories that appear in the following order: (1) celebratory motets, for the Bavarian rulers and other individuals and families; (2) sacred texts in the order of the church year; (3) motets on texts from the book of Psalms; (4) religious and secular poetry. This division does not apply to the two-voice motets of RISM 1577c,which appear in their original order in MOM, and small groups such as the motets for seven, nine, and ten voices do not include representatives of each of the four categories. Leuchtmann observed that consecutive motets, sometimes in substantial numbers, were in the same mode (he spoke only of dorian, phrygian, lydian, and mixolydian), but that no systematic ordering according to mode seemed to govern the collection. Whenever a series might seem to appear, foreign elements intervened.30 30

Ibid., pp. 46–7.

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peter bergquist However, Leuchtmann’s establishment of the four fundamental categories within the motets for each number of voices, in conjunction with Lasso’s usage of tonal types to represent modes, allows us to see that large segments of MOM, namely the settings of psalms and psalm verses, are modally ordered. As shown in Table 10.13, the psalm-motets for four, five, and six voices in MOM are modally ordered, most perfectly so in the fivevoice group, nearly so in the four-voice group, and somewhat less clearly in the six-voice group. Motets in other subject categories sometimes show an incipient modal ordering that is not pursued consistently. The five-voice psalm-motets have only two pieces out of order, no. 271, “Si bona suscepimus,” in L/1/A, which should represent mode 3/4 transposed and be placed near the L/0/E motets that represent mode 3/4 untransposed, and no. 282, in H/0/A, which appears between modes 7 and 8 rather than with its companion, no. 265. In the four-voice psalm-motets the pieces in H/0/A separate the representatives of mode 3/4 transposed and untransposed respectively, pieces in modes 5 and 6 are intermixed, and nos. 125–6 separate the representatives of mode 8 transposed and untransposed. In the sixvoice psalm-motets modal ordering seems to be present, but it is frequently interrupted, not only by motets in H/0/A but other tonal types displaced from what would be their proper place in a modally ordered collection. These observations about MOM appear significant in that they suggest that modal ordering was a principle known to Lasso’s sons and that they most probably learned it from their father, whether by direct instruction or simply by observation. It is true that the ordering in MOM could have been decided by the publisher, who was Adam Berg’s successor; in that case modal ordering would appear to have been derived from Lasso through Berg to Heinrich, even though that principle was by no means applied universally in Berg’s publications.

Conclusions Modal ordering clearly prevailed in a large number of publications of Orlando di Lasso’s music, including many with which he was closely associated. One of the most fundamental questions about this phenomenon is, was the modal ordering Lasso’s intention or that of his publishers? It appears that many of these publications do indeed represent Lasso’s own 222

m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s Table 10.13 Psalm-motets and psalm verse settings in MOM Number

Clefs/Signature/Final

Mode represented

Settings a4 82–5 86–92 93–100 101 102–4 105–9 110–11 112–18 119 120–1 122–3 124 125 126 127–37

L/0/D H/1/G L/1/G L/1/A H/0/A L/0/E H/1/F L/1/F H/1/F H/0/C H/0/G H/1/C H/1/F H/0/A L/0/G

1 1 tr 2 tr 3/4 tr A 3/4 5 6 5 6 tr 7 8 tr 5 A 8

Settings a5 239–44 245–54 255 256–64 265 266–70 271 (Si bona suscepimus) 272–80 281, 283–4 282 285–7

H/1/G L/1/G H/0/D L/0/E H/0/A H/1/F L/1/A L/1/F H/0/G H/0/A L/0/G

1 tr 2 tr 2 tr 8ve 3/4 A 5 3/4 tr 6 7 A 8

Settings a6 416 417–20 421–4 425–30 431–6 437 438 439, 442 440–1 443, 446–7 448, 450, 452 449 451 453 454 455 456 457–9, 461–2 460

H/0/G H/1/G L/0/D L/1/G L/0/E H/1/C L/0/F H/1/F H/0/C L/1/F H/0/A H/0/C H/0/G H/0/D H/0/G H/0/C H/0/A L/0/G L/0/E

(7) 1 tr 1 2 tr 3/4 (8 tr) 6 5 6 tr 6 (A) 6 tr 7 (2 tr 8ve) 7 (6 tr) (A) 8 (3/4)

peter bergquist preference.A first observation would be that at the beginning and end of his time in Munich the Penitential Psalms and the Lagrime di San Pietro were composed to texts that had a predetermined order. Lasso’s settings are in the order of the modes and undoubtedly composed with the intention of representing the modes. The uniformity of affect through both of these collections also casts strong doubt on any possibility that the individual modes had specific and invariable expressive connotations. Lasso may more than once have used a given tonal type to convey a specific affect, but it can hardly be elevated to a consistent practice. Most of the collections discussed in this study were probably put in order for publication after the individual pieces were composed and assembled. Since the texts themselves were too varied to provide a basis for ordering their settings, musical criteria would be the logical alternative. This would be especially true of the large collected editions like the various Meslanges, the lieder of RISM 1583b, and the motets of RISM 1582c. Lasso is said to have consented to or overseen all of these publications, and it is difficult to escape the conclusion that the ordering also represents his intentions. Boetticher’s statement that Lasso could hardly have authorized the reorderings in the 1583 lieder is without foundation.31 The original editions were already modally ordered in part, and the collected edition retained and extended that ordering when the three books were combined. The three issues of the Meslanges are especially instructive about Lasso’s intentions. The first edition, RISM 1570d, was fairly well modally ordered, and 1576d, issued after Lasso’s visit to Paris and with his own supervision and revision, is almost perfectly ordered. RISM 1586g, issued after Lasso had given up any thought of moving to Paris and was perhaps less directly involved with the details of the edition, disturbs the clear ordering of 1576d. The modal ordering seems to have been most rigorous when Lasso was in most direct contact with Le Roy and Ballard and in closest control of their issues of his music. The same comparison seems to be true of the 31

Boetticher, Lasso, p. 323. His suggestion that the phrase “mit des Herrn Authoris bewilligung” in the title of RISM 1583b is not to be taken at face value is supported only by reference to his comments on Gerlach’s large motet compilation, the Selectissimae cantiones of RISM 1568a and b. The validity of Boetticher’s comments on 1568a and b is debatable, and their application to another collection fifteen years later even more so.

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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s motet books of 1571–3 as against those of 1587 and 1588. It appears that Lasso’s control was tightest near the time of his Paris visit, and that the earlier books with their careful modal ordering represent his intentions most fully. It is also reasonable to assume that the German prints usually represent Lasso’s own intentions. Several of them cite his participation or approval on their title pages, and many of the others contain his own dedicatory prefaces. Modal ordering is found in quite a number of these prints, as has been seen, though by no means did Berg and Gerlach order each of their Lasso publications on that basis. In the 1580s, in fact, Berg ordered several motet books primarily on the basis of clef and signature, as was noted with regard to RISM 1585a. Berg’s Sacrae cantiones quinque vocum (RISM 1582d), Motetta sex vocum (RISM 1582e), and Cantica sacra sex et octo vocum (RISM 1585b) all group the motets in cantus mollis first, followed by those in cantus durus.32 Within these two groups the compositions in high clefs precede those in low clefs. In all three books different finals are intermixed within the four subgroups, so that ordering by tonal type does not result. This was clearly an alternate method of ordering for Berg and presumably for Lasso also. It was not used simply because potential representatives of all eight modes were not available. In these three books and also in RISM 1585a, only RISM 1585b would be unable to represent all eight modes, since it includes no motets that could stand for modes 5 and 8. Another conclusion to be drawn from this investigation has to do with pieces in H/0/A or L/0/A. How did Lasso regard them with respect to the system of eight modes? Powers suggested that for Lasso they were anomalous, and he mentioned only two modally ordered collections that contain such pieces, the Graz motets (RISM 1594a) and the Lagrime di San Pietro, in which pieces in A appear “in place of ” mode 7 or mode 8.33 With more publications to consider, the picture is perhaps clearer. Table 10.14 summarizes the placement of pieces in H/0/A or L/0/A in Lasso’s modally ordered publications. The most frequent placement of these pieces is after mode 8, after the cycle has been completed. The next most frequent placement is before mode 1, before the cycle begins. There is also some association with mode 3/4, an association that had always been observed in theory 32

Powers, “Tonal Types,” Table 13, p. 465, shows the organization of RISM 1582d 33 Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 449 and 464 with Tables 4 and 14. and 1582e.

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peter bergquist Table 10.14 Placement of pieces in A in Lasso’s modally ordered publications French and Netherlandish publications Before mode 1–4 Between mode 1 and 2–1 Between 1/2 and 3/4–3 Between 2 and 5 (3/4 before 2)–1 After 6 and before 3/4–1 After 8–6 No pieces in A–4

German publications

Between 1/2 and 3/4–1 After 3/4–2 After 7 or 8–1 No pieces in A–7

and practice. However, Lasso’s practice in his compositions in the H/0/A and L/0/A tonal types tends to relate them more closely to modes 1/2 than to 3/4, thus placement before mode 3/4 might equally well be considered to be placement after modes 1/2, to which the music itself more often bears some affinity.34 Placement outside the modal system is by far most frequent, however, and that seems to me to sum up Lasso’s attitude towards these tonal types. Unlike their counterparts in C with no signature, which can be used to represent one of the eight modes with relatively little difficulty, they simply do not fit comfortably into his modal system. 34

My study of Lasso’s pieces in A, “Compositions in ‘A minor’,” shows a variety of behaviors in the music itself, as exhibited in cadence points and melodic structure. I concluded that “most of Lasso’s pieces in A fall somewhere on a continuum from a clear and unequivocal A at one extreme through increasing emphasis on D, and finally to the other extreme, where D is stronger than A” (p. 9). A few use b-flat so often that they suggest mode 3/4.

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11 Correct and incorrect accentuation in Lasso’s music: on the implied dependence on the text in classical vocal polyphony horst leuchtmann

The title of this essay could awaken the impression that there are “correct”and“incorrect”stresses on the words in the vocal polyphony of the sixteenth century, including the works of Orlando di Lasso. This is of course not so,otherwise Lasso and Palestrina and many others would not have been elevated to the ranks of great masters in music. None the less there is something in that formulation. The “correct” text stresses are the usual ones that are arranged in accordance with the musical meter. The so-called “incorrect” stresses are “incorrect” in their relationship to the meter and thus achievemuchstrongereffects thanthe“correct”ones.For thisreason,infact, the metrically“incorrect”stresses are much less common than the“correct” ones,but they are found in all kinds of works from every period and continue to be reserved for special emphasis. If they were mistakes, one would expect that the masters would gradually have improved them and removed them from use.This is not the case.One who wishes to learn about this distinction may discover it throughout Lasso’s work, from the Prophetiae Sibyllarum to the Lagrime di San Pietro, and not in his music alone. That one generally knows nothing of such a distinction,and that one is usually not aware of it,is connected with the circumstance that our mass-music culture transfers its preference for the soft, full, blended sound of the mixed chorus to all music, even the old and the oldest,and the difficulties inherent in these refinements go by the wayside.But we must explore further. The composition of sixteenth-century vocal polyphony is the art of consonance, and is subject principally to four important rules, which should not be ignored in theory or in practice: (1) Simultaneities or chords consist largely of consonances. Dissonances require special handling. 227

horst leuchtmann (2) Consonances consist of triads, whose roots are almost always the lowest tones in any given chord. The period also knew what we call six-three and six-four chords, but used them in insignificantly small numbers. (3) Metric organization in duple mensurations calls for stress on beats 1 and 3, in triple mensurations only on 1. The other beats are considered weaker.What we designate today as an accenting pulse, which we questionably brought into the performance practice of sixteenth-century polyphony from later music, is in reality a rule also for that polyphony, a rule that eventually came into appearance in the regulated use of dissonant passing tones, of dissonance in general, and the suspension in particular. With regard to interval successions Pietro Pontio (1532–95) spoke in 1588 of the difference between the metric positions nel principio and nel fine, between depositione and elevatione;1 other theorists differentiate between thesis and arsis, between “good”and “bad”time (beat or part of the measure, as we say today). This phenomenon of the unequal parts of the measure is clearly brought to light in the frequent rejoicing passages in triple proportion,2 whose impetus pulls the texts along with it and sometimes actually forces a “falsely accentuated” delivery. The cadences also – in any case the discant clausulas – are metrically determined and sometimes develop a similar pull. (4) Vocal polyphony means texts sung by singers; texts are the occasion for and content of vocal music and precede its composition. The delivery of words is the main purpose of vocal music. 1

2

Pietro Pontio, Ragionamento di Musica (Parma, 1588; reprint Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1959). Lucie Balmer, Orlando di Lassos Motetten (Bern and Leipzig: Paul Haupt, 1938), p. 68: “Melismas are especially rich in the Gregorian repertory, where for example the Alleluia had been sung only melismatically from the beginning on. For Augustine such song freed from the word had an expression of greatest joy: ‘Qui jubilat, non verba dicit, sed sonus quidem est laetitiae sine verbis: vox est enim animi diffusi laetitia, quantum potest exprimentis affectum non sensum comprehendentis. Gaudens homo in exultatione sua ex verbis quibusdam, quae non possunt dici et intelligi, erumpit in vocem quandam exultationis sine verbis; ita ut appareat, eum ipsa voce gaudere quidem, sed quasi repletum nimio gaudio, non posse verbis explicare quod gaudet’.” Cited from Peter Wagner, Einführung in die gregorianischen Melodien (Freiburg: Veith, 1895), vol. 1, p. 37, after Migne, Patrologiae cursus completus. Series Latina (Paris: Garnier, 1844–1903), vol. 37, p. 1272.

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correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music The many manuscript and printed music treatises, especially those of the sixteenth century, are not at all what we understand today as textbooks and composition methods. They list many but not all of the important considerations in composing, and basically they convey only the main outlines of instruction that was traditionally conveyed in more detail orally. They present the precepts of interval progressions, but they touch little if at all on the relationships among the main conditions mentioned in the four points above. On into the present century one has thus understood counterpoint to be an abstract theory of intervals, forgetting the treatment of the text in relation to the meter, since counterpoint,which was originally vocal, has for a long time been comprehended and manipulated as purely instrumental. Counterpoint is still understood as the system of several simultaneous and above all equal, independent (!) lines. Reginald O. Morris (1886–1948) was perhaps the first to bring back into recognition the insufficiency, indeed the falsity, of such an outlook.3 It is especially striking that stresses derived from the text, so important for composition as well as performance, have received and continue to receive so little attention in writing as well as in performance. Insecurity in connection with the musical stress on words and the displacement of that musical stress may be seen very clearly in Gustave Reese’s valuable book on Renaissance music.4 The precisely informative index notes almost two dozen passages that are concerned with questions of accentuation of the words, and even so the questions are not answered, but rather obscured through the enigmatic listing of “three forms of dislocation of the stress.”5 On page 159 and elsewhere Reese ascribes “rhythmic nicety and correct accentuation”to the frottolists. About Josquin on the other hand he is obliged to say:“Latin accents are not infrequently mishandled, even in his latest works, although, inconsistently, at other times great care seems to be exercised in this matter” (p. 245).6 Even more clearly: “Humanistic 3

4 5 6

Reginald O. Morris, Contrapuntal Technique in the Sixteenth Century (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1922; 7th ed. 1958). Gustave Reese, Music in the Renaissance (New York: Norton, 1954; rev. ed. 1959). Ibid., p. 354. All page references are the same in the revised edition of 1959. In the revised edition this sentence reads: “When one examines his treatment of Latin texts, one quite often finds this French composer influenced by his native language rather than by the humanistic concept of the proper handling of Latin accent.”

229

horst leuchtmann influence, however, does not induce the composer [Josquin] to observe syllabic quantities [!] strictly, though he and his contemporaries offend less in the handling of Latin quantity than had their predecessors” (p. 253). Here we see the mixture and confusion of accentual “stress” and syllabic “quantity” that often appears elsewhere and results only in confusion. Willaert by contrast is praised without reservation: “Willaert’s three main contributions to sacred polyphony in Italy – the last two apparently made solely . . . through his motets, etc. – were (1) the establishment of FrancoNetherlandish technique as a part of the musical language of church music there; (2) the development of choral antiphony; and (3) the cultivation of a ‘modern’ style emphasizing faultless declamation of the text” (p. 372). Indeed, “his concern for correct declamation extends to voices that treat words free of dramatic import” (p. 374).“In view of the strict regulation in Palestrina style of what may or may not be done on the first and third beats or on the second and fourth, one tends to feel that those investigators take an exaggerated position who claim that there was no regular accentuation in Renaissance polyphony” (p. 461). That is certainly correct, although in a broader sense than Reese may have realized. To be sure, he mentions the phenomenon of a stress contrary to the metrical pattern (p. 461), but he says nothing about its musical justification or meaning or the practicalities of how it should be performed. As we intend to show, it is not only a long or high note standing on a weak beat that displaces the regular stress for a short time, and mainly in one voice only. The question arises whether such occasional offenses against the accentual flow are acceptable or intended and, if the latter, why. The extent to which counterpoint instruction has lost sight of its original subject, a subject that found its strongest development in the sixteenth century, and has indeed denied it expressis verbis, is shown not only in instructional works that no longer know about text setting but also in the instructions that actually lead students away from the subject. I cite at random a representative text long famous in its time, Luigi Cherubini’s Cours de contrepoint et de fugue.7 The book already shows in its 7

Luigi Cherubini, Cours de contrepoint et de fugue (Paris, 1835), cited from Theorie des Kontrapunktes und der Fuge in neuer Übersetzung. Bearbeitet, mit Anmerkungen und einem Anhang über die Alten Kirchentonarten versehen von Gustav Jensen (Cologne and Leipzig: vom Ende, 1896), p. 3. The foreword to the

230

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music “Introductory Fundamental Principles” that counterpoint is now to be understood ideally as instrumental counterpoint: In all the species of counterpoint that we will encounter, as well as in fugue, the student should take to heart that he is writing for voices and not for instruments. He must therefore conform to the natural range of the voices in their various registers. In that way he will learn, not to his disadvantage, to produce beautiful tonal effects with voices alone. To be sure, this is a not entirely easy discipline and one also that is all too neglected, but later on the student will less often encounter difficulties when he composes for instruments and is no longer obliged to subject himself to the constraints that the limited range of the voices impose.

From this perspective only vocal music is limited to the range of the voices alone, which cannot do full justice to the art of counterpoint. The framework of individual sonorities in free composition can be quickly set out. The foundation is the lowest tone at any given moment, the upper voice is the most important in the sonorous realm (the tenor has already lost its primacy, as is well known), and the middle voices, alto and tenor,“fill in”the sonority. They may sometimes distinguish between major and minor, but otherwise have only a single, narrowly proscribed freedom, that of rhythm. Morris states it in more detail: For three hundred years or so we have been slaves of the bar line, and our conception of rhythm has become purely metrical. We learn, probably, to distinguish between “secondary” rhythm, which places a strong accent at the beginning of each bar and admits a certain variety of figure in between those accents, and “primary” rhythm which measures out the bars themselves into neat regular groups, usually of two, four, and eight. . . . Of the wider implications of the term “rhythm” and of its true nature, we have suffered ourselves to remain in complacent ignorance. . . . In that period [the sixteenth century] there is no confusion between rhythm and metre. The rhythmical accentuation of each part is free, but, independently of the actual rhythmic accents, there is an imaginary metrical accentuation which imposes a regular alternation of strong and weak beats to which the harmony of the German edition states on p. iii that “the musical examples are for the most part by Cherubini himself, partly by Johann Josef Fux [1660–1741] and Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg [1718–1795]. The text is not by Cherubini but probably by Jacques Halévy.”

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horst leuchtmann composition has to conform, although the melody of each voice pursues its own way untrammelled. As soon as a student begins the study of sixteenthcentury music, this is the first fact to force itself on his notice; he finds out that in order to write in the idiom of Morley or Orlando Lasso or Vittoria, he has to slough all his old preconceptions, and ask himself, perhaps for the first time, what rhythm really is. This, as was said, is by far the most valuable lesson a composer has to learn, at the moment, from a study of this period. One might add, too, that it is possible to search diligently through all the text-books, English and foreign, of the last three hundred years, and never find so much as a hint of it, to put the student on the right track . . . the rhythmic principle – the only principle that really matters. 8

Thus meter – within the tactus – acts as a principle of order behind all that is done and becomes perceptible through its manifestations: consonance, dissonance, suspension, passing tone, stress, and absence of stress. The individual (melodic) voices move against this (sonorous) background within the bounds of their compositional possibilities. Morris states that the rhythmical accentuation of each individual part is free, that is to say, the accents do not occur at strictly regular intervals, whereas the composition as a whole does conform to a fixed metrical scheme in which strong and weak accents succeed one another in a pre-determined order. . . . In the rhythm of poetry there is a precisely similar duality, as any one may quickly convince himself. . . . Too much coincidence means monotony; too much at-oddness means chaos.9

Regarding Example 38 of his book10 (see Ex. 11.1), Morris explains that the performer finds his stresses according to the length of the notes, for which he gives the following rules: (1) Accents should be neither too many nor too few. There must be enough of them to hold the melody firmly together and prevent it, so to speak, from sagging, but they should not be so close together as to detract from each other’s importance. (2) The rhythm of a phrase is frequently (some would say “always”) anacrusic; that is to say, the accented note is not necessarily the first note of the phrase, but may be preceded by an unaccented note or series of notes – an “up-beat” as we should call it today. 8 9

Morris, Contrapuntal Technique, pp. 3–4. 10 Ibid., Appendix, p. 6 Ibid., p. 17.

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correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music Ex. 38 w ˙ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ &Ó ˙ ˙ ˙

Ex. 39. Palestrina, Stabat Mater

> ww ˙˙ ˙˙

& C ww ww Sta - bat

ma - ter do

w ˙ ˙˙ w ˙

#w w ?C w w Ex. 39a

-

lo - ro

-

˙˙ ˙ ww ˙

ww

ww

sa,

jux

Sta - bat

ma - ter do - lo

Ex. 40. Ibidem.

te

-

?3 w w w 1 & ww .. ˙˙ ww

w nw

ro - sa,

lu - ge - am,

De

w › w ›

-

fac

ut

si

w # ww w w w

-

> ˙˙ ww ˙˙ b ww w w

cru -

w w w w

˙ ww ˙ ˙ ˙

cru - cem la - cri

w. w w# ˙

-

ww › ›

ar - de - at

cor

ww .. ˙˙ ww

me

w › w ›

-

um,

in

bi

ww w . ˙ # › w w ›

ce

a -

w w w w w w › ›

a ww -

&c.

sa

# ww ww # ww

› ›

com - pla

w

mo -

w › › w # ww .. ˙˙ ww

&c.

cem la - cri - mo - sa

6 w ˙ w ˙ 4 bw 2 2

ww .. ˙˙ ww

ut

w w w #w w w um,

ta

jux - ta

ww ww .. ˙˙ # ww ww ww

ww w› w

man - do Chris - tum

w. ˙ w ? w. ˙ w

cum

-

w w ww ww

ww # ww .. ˙˙

& 31 # www www www ut

-

> N ww ww

w˙ # ˙ ww

6 4 2 w ˙ w ˙ 2 bw w

& w w

Fac

> ˙˙ ˙˙ b ww

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ . œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w #˙ ›

-

&c.

am

Ex. 40a (The note-values reduced for the purpose of illustration to their approximate modern equivalent).

4 œ 4 3 œ 5 œ. œ œ œ œ 4 œ. œ œ œ 5 ˙ &4 œ œ 4 J 4 J 4 # œ œ œ 4 œ . Jœ œ œ 2 Fac ut te- cum

lu - ge- am, fac ut

3 œ œ œ œ œ 5 ˙ ˙ #œ ˙ &2 œ 4 De - um, ut si - bi

com- pla - ce - am

ar - de- at cor me - um, in a man - do Chris- tum Ex. 41 Morales, Officium Defunctorum, Lectio III

3 2

4 2 w

> 42 > 32 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

ma - nus

tu

-

ae

fe - ce

-

&c.

runt me

Example 11.1: Reginald O. Morris, Contrapuntal Technique in the Sixteenth Century (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1922; 7th ed. 1958), Examples, pp. 6–7, nos. 38–41

Morris’s Example 38 is written without barlines and provides for stresses with longer or shorter note values. Here it emerges that Morris means something altogether different from the present essay. Morris seemingly proceeds from the debatable hypothesis that the composer adds a text 233

horst leuchtmann to his already completed composition; in any case he refers in the later course of his presentation to the compositional technique of the fifteenth century, with its melismatic compositions that are provided only with hints of the text. It also does not seem entirely correct to ignore completely the influence of the mensuration:“It has already been said more than once that the time-signature at the beginning of a sixteenth-century composition is of purely metrical significance, exercising an important influence on the harmonic structure of the composition, but having nothing to do with the rhythmical structure of the parts taken individually.”11 His own Examples 39A, 40, and 40A contradict this conclusion, since a ternary mensuration exercises such force that the word stresses are set aside as almost without effect, a circumstance that may be observed in almost all triple time. Here the “rhythm of the words” reflects only the meter and not the textual stress.12 On the other hand, Morris’s comments about the stress marks in his Example 41 are correct:“It must be remembered that the stress marks do not indicate anything in the nature of a violent sforzando, but are there merely to show that the rhythmic accents do not necessarily coincide with the metrical accents.”13 The presumed “difficulties” – in fact there are none – lie elsewhere. It is, to be sure, important for performance to caution against Morris’s advice, which is based on modern conducting technique: “A slight increase in dynamic stress – for which the choirmaster can be trusted – is all that is needed to make its rhythmical importance unmistakable.” One must add that metric stress, contrary to Morris’s statement, is in no way “imaginary.” Quite the contrary: all of the harmony is determined by it, and only with this background is the rhythmic freedom of the individual voices possible, perceptible, and effective. Morris states correctly: “Above all, they [the sixteenth-century composers] loved to make the rhythmical accents of each part cross and clash with those of every other part.” In this connection, however, a few more cautions are needed, as will be shown. Let us linger further with Morris. His Example 38 (only one voice!) illustrates the breathtakingly complicated, on the whole unconductable, polyrhythm, that with the help of language and its declamation is hidden behind the simple notation. And yet such (polyphonic!) passages run their 11

Ibid., pp. 20–1.

234

12

Ibid., p. 21.

13

Ibid.

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music course by themselves if only the tempo for all voices is held steady. What seems very complicated or even confused in Morris when it is taken apart rhythmically and interpreted, comes to pass of its own accord in a performance with correct text declamation, provided that the singers understand what they are singing. The persistence with which the question of textual stress is continually brought up in theoretical writings should arouse attention. The terminological uncertainty with which the claim is raised from time to time that a “long” syllable must be made prominent with a long tone proves that in this instance vestiges of classical versification must have been progenitors. However, the classical meters had long since become only a playground for humanists, who turned out their artful Latin verses following refined metrical patterns whose vocabulary consisted of quantities, with syllables either considered to be short or established as long. To form these into structures that only the connoisseur could appreciate, not only by counting syllables but also following artistic rules about syllables considered as short, made the composer into a master, whether he wrote the verse or only set it. In any case, the number of antique odes and verses that were composed mercilessly betrays that an archaic genre had been embraced here. The list of Lasso’s works includes a handful of such antiquarian affectations, which as is well known were awakened once again during Lasso’s lifetime to a short artificial life in the works of the French school of poets known as the “Pléiade.”14 Apart from this the poetic art of the modern vernacular languages, which had worked for a long time with tonic accent and/or syllable counting, prevailed. These new parameters do not play an important role, so far as I can see, either in scholarly music literature or in present-day performances of older music. However, a tonic accent may very well be meant when careless mention is made of “quantity.” All this is praised and marveled at in Lasso, but also censured in part (for instance, his fondness for text expression); the censure arises of course only in hindsight. But the coordination of accentuation of pitch and word stress in his works has nowhere as yet been examined thoroughly. Musicology has little if any interest in these fundamental 14

For example, “Sidus ex claro,” “Nuptias claras,” “O decus celsi,” “Flemus extremos,” “Heu quis armorum,” “Nuntium vobis fero,” “Alma Venus,” “Une puce,” and others.

235

horst leuchtmann questions, and in performance practice these subtleties are lost through modern conducting technique. In this respect, which is significant for an art that intends to translate words into tones, there is also no difference between Lasso and his contemporaries. He too sometimes stresses “falsely,” as a superficial examination may seem to demonstrate.15 In fact this “fault” is an uncommonly refined possibility for creating liveliness and impressiveness in music through the simplest means. One may compare these discussions with those in the collected edition of Cipriano de Rore. In his discussion of ascriptions the editor lists stylistic details that speak for or against Rore’s authorship. Among the negative indications he lists “Barbarismus.” Other traits that speak against Rore’s authorship are the omission of the subsemitonium of the cadence . . . and the occurrence of barbarisms like virtuté, resúrrectionis, or verbúm [in the motet “Virtute magna – Repleti quidem”]. These peculiarities, it is true, are frequent in masters like Gombert or Clemens non Papa and those influenced by them; but it was Willaert who turned away from these practices about 1540,16 and Rore, 15

16

This is not the proper place to go into the reception of Lasso. It should be noted none the less how severely the great Lasso scholar Adolf Sandberger distorted matters when he spoke unintentionally against presumed mistaken accents in Lasso’s settings: “Orlando stresses mostly following the verbal accent, in the most frequent cases exactly as it must be stressed in accented verse, as may be seen similarly in Palestrina. But then we see the composer uncounted times displace the tone on which he comes to rest, following neither the accent of the word nor the metric accent, a procedure hardly to be approved, and one which is pursued to the distortion of word forms. On the other hand, the effort to do justice to the penultimate syllable is unmistakable” (SW, vol. 2, p. xxiii). Balmer, Lassos Motetten, p. 100, is no different, and Horst-Willi Gross, Klangliche Struktur und Klangverhältnis in Messen und lateinischen Motetten Orlando di Lassos (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1977), p. 74, note 24, in his discussion of Lasso’s motet, “Memento peccati tui,” SW, vol. 7, p. 60, comments, “Note the unusual (!) stress in the musical structure on the words ‘ne despéres’.” Franz Xaver Haberl, Sandberger’s collaborator in the so-called “old” Lasso collected edition (SW), even took up his pen now and then against unusual stresses and made corrections according to his own judgment. See SW, vol. 5, pp. 131 and 150, the latter a barbarism that Haberl should have let stand as typical of the time. This is not correct. One might consider – at random – even the first motet in Willaert’s Musica nova, “Domine quid multiplicati sunt – Ego dormivi.” Among the large number of lengthened stresses, a few stresses on weak beats, without lengthening, occur even so. The following list is not intended to be complete:

236

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music together with the other “Italianized” Netherlanders, faithfully followed his example.17

Meier continues:“Already in the sixteenth century correct text declamation was considered the main characteristic of the ‘new’ Netherlandish-Italian style, clearly visible for the first time in the late works of Willaert. See E. Lowinsky, ‘A treatise on text underlay by a German disciple of Francisco Salinas,’ Festschrift Heinrich Besseler zum 60. Geburtstag (Leipzig: VEB Deutscher Verlag für Musik, 1962, p. 231).”18 On the other hand, one might note the same editor’s unquestioning ascription of “Expectans expectavi” to Rore despite the following censured “barbarisms”: cantus, mm. 21–2, “expectaví”; tenor, mm. 38 and 45,“precés”; Secunda pars: tenor, mm. 78–9, “meúm”; altus, mm. 96–7,“carmén”; quintus, m. 97,“Deó”. These however are not “peculiarities” but rather commonplaces, normal usages of the time, the master’s employment of which showed his scorn for dilettantes. And no singer would ever have sung “virtuté,” “resúrrectionis,” or “verbúm,” “expectaví,” “precés,” “meúm,” or “carmén,” even if it had appeared thus in the score, if he wished to retain his position as a professional. Moreover, one must naturally be aware of deviations in stress that arose in the Middle Ages.19

17

18

19

Prima pars: altus, m. 10, múl-ti; m. 23, dí-cunt; tenor, m. 10, múl-ti; m. 14, múlti; bassus, m. 9, múl-ti. Secunda pars: altus, m. 119, circum-dán-tis; m. 136, sálvum; bassus, m. 109, míl-lia. Cipriano da Rore, Opera omnia, ed. Bernhard Meier (Rome: American Institute of Musicology, 1959– ), vol. 14, p. xiii. Ibid., note 18. This argumentation strongly recalls what Ambros reported about Artusi (Geschichte der Musik. Dritte verbesserte und mit Nachträgen versehene Auflage von Otto Kade [Leipzig: F. E. C. Leuckart, 1893], vol. 3, p. 531): “Artusi praised in Cipriano his good, that is correctly, accented declamation of the words: ‘il Signore Cipriano è stato il primo che havesse incominciato ad accomodare bene le parole e con bell’ ordine . . . essendo da suoi antecessori et le parole et nel medesimo tempo molti in uso il fare de’ barbarismi’ (della Imperf. Fol. 20), a praise that Baini (Vita ed op. die [!] Pierl. da Palestr. I: 108) properly wished to limit, in that he calls attention to the circumstance that careful text underlay was found much earlier in motets and that in this perspective only masses were less carefully handled (and even here, we must add, primarily only in the Kyries, etc., but not in the Gloria and Credo).” Lowinsky’s essay has been reprinted in his Music in the Culture of the Renaissance and Other Essays (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), vol. 2, pp. 868–83. Such departures from the rules, which had already appeared in antiquity, continued in part in the Middle Ages. In English-speaking areas one may

237

horst leuchtmann Herbert K.Andrews (1904–65) adopts a great deal from Morris and in part goes very much further, for example, in the question of barlines, which he wishes to consider only as marks of orientation. He names five “factors governing accent in the normal vocal line”: (1) the relative length of a tone with respect to smaller values that precede or follow it; (2) a prominent high pitch; (3) an approach to a note by a leap upward; (4) the position of a note in a melodic phrase (the beginning tones of a melodic phrase tend to have the character of an upbeat and thus are relatively unaccented); and (5) the text underlay.20 Andrews then gives a musical example from Palestrina (see Ex. 11.2), which he chooses at random. His rhythmic analysis proceeds from the score and takes account of the five factors he names. Without a doubt nothing may be adduced against the results of his efforts, but rather against his methods, the rules for which do not hold water with their vexatious imagination of stresses in, for example, unnecessary or unconvincing melodic motions. Andrews prefers not to understand irregular word accents as stresses but rather works to excuse them on compositional grounds, for reasons of voice-leading: “Yet the effect of the whole gives an unmistakable feeling of the four pulse metrical rhythm; there is at least one stress rhythm accent on the first pulse of every measure and on the third pulse of all save the second.”21 The present essay is concerned with the mastery of the composers of Lasso’s time in breaking through the inflexible meter by means of an abundance of unexpected, enlightening accents on weak beats; it is not to place the meter in question, but to remove its special privilege.Andrews defends (Palestrina); here we should admire (Lasso). The rhythm of the individual voices against the background of the meter may be perceived and recognized in a much simpler manner than Andrews indicates. The hypothesis is the fundamental rule that in tempus imperfectum the four minims are not equivalent in their metric quality, but rather, as the rules of dissonance indicate, they are differentiated into “strong” beats (1 and 3) and “weak” beats (2 and 4), as was discussed above.

20

observe even today a general tendency to accent the penultimate syllable in Latin words, for example “carmína” instead of “cármina” and “quaerítis” rather than “quáeritis.” See Lexicon des Mittelalters, vols. 1–6 (Munich and Zürich: Artemis, 1980); vol. 7 – (Munich: Lexma Verlag, 1995–98), s.v. “Barbarismus.” H[erbert] K. Andrews, An Introduction to the Technique of Palestrina (London: 21 Ibid., p. 31. Novello, 1958), pp. 28–9.

238

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music

&bC ˙

Cantus

Ó

w w

BbC ˙

Altus

˙

> ˙

In

glo - ri

˙

> ˙

a

De

2

1

˙ -

∑

„

˙

>˙

˙

>˙ .

In

glo

a

De

˙

>˙

i

Pa - tris,

3

>w

˙ -

i

˙

Pa

-

tris,

w

∑

In

Tenor

BbC Ó

Ó

˙

>˙

In

glo

? C b

Bassus

4

&b

œ œ >w

˙ -

ri

n

glo

˙ -

ri

Bb ∑

a

Ó

˙ a

De

?

b

-

œ œ >˙ -

-

-

5

-

De

˙ ˙

œ >˙ -

i

˙

Pa

-

˙

˙ -

-

men,

i,

>˙ . glo

˙

˙

-

˙

>˙

in

glo

> ˙

in

glo

˙

>˙

˙

glo

ri - a

De

ri

-

-

>˙

men,

˙

˙

-

-

6

>˙

˙

tris,

Ó

in

œ

-

>w) ˙

A

∑

(

> w

˙

˙

˙

-

men,

in

œ œ

ri

>˙

>w

w -

-

w

˙ A

> Bb ˙

-

˙

n

-

ri

˙

>˙

i

Pa

˙

>˙

a

De

-

A

-

˙ -

ri

- (a)

˙ -

a

˙ -

tris,

˙

>˙

i

Pa

- (tris

Example 11.2: H. K. Andrews, An Introduction to the Technique of Palestrina (London: Novello, 1958), Example 10, pp. 29–30

As Example 11.2 shows, the individual voices against this harmonic, accentuated background can enliven the musical fabric remarkably strongly through the stresses made possible by rhythm. Basically, three possibilities of accentuation (according to verbal stress!) are available: (1) The text accent agrees with the musical accent. This is the basic rule, which one can observe without at the same time falling into Morris’s feared “tedium.” The larger part of the music discussed here runs its course according to this pattern. (2) The word accent conflicts with this rule and stresses “weak” beats. Lengthening of this beat helps to achieve this, through dotting or doubling 239

horst leuchtmann of the duration, a seeming syncopation, or a dissolution into passagework. This is the usual form of the consciously offending “off-beat” stresses contrary to the meter in the individual parts (indicated by v in Ex. 11.3). (3) The “real,” unvarnished offense against the metric rules, presumably in awareness of the language: The verbal stress falls on the“weak”beats 2 and 4, without lengthening within the context,without any graphic or contrapuntal stress (indicated by ▼ in Ex. 11.3). One depends on a singer who understands languages. The word being delivered must remain understandable; the word in its recognizable form has precedence over rhythmically flexible delivery. If method no. 2 in performance practice misleads one to syncopation, as we still recognize today, similarly method no. 3 is for us an “unheard” offense, because we are used to considering such undesignated displaced accents as errors, as incompetence on the composer’s part, or – mostly from a lack of knowledge of languages – we simply ignore them, that is, withhold them in their rhythmic quality from the listener. Not so the “ancients.” This freedom of word stress and thereby musical stress, or, better yet, rhythmicization of the individual parts, finds its limits however in two contexts: (A) The discant clausula (see above) does not tolerate this freedom. A composer that transgresses against its domination usually gives no pleasure. (B) Triple mensuration (see above) governs word stress irresistibly. In both cases the meter must be complied with. The stresses in an individual voice-part that result from situations described under no. 2 above (voices may be combined together in such “errors” if the composer wishes) – this method of incorrect stress contrary to the meter is the only intrinsic one. Considered thus, Example 11.2 is much simpler if we understand it only with regard to word stress: Cantus: m. 1: The “In” is indeed placed on a weak beat, but it is the entrance of the upper voice, which does not however encroach on the main accent on beat 1 of m. 2. “De-” in m. 2, beat 4, is one such “intrinsic” special rhythm of the voice-part, without preparation or support. In m. 3 the shift of stress from beat 1 to beat 2 is so clear that it needs no further discussion. In m. 4 the discant cadence governs the stress in the usual manner. In m. 6 as in m. 1 the repetition receives a similar subordinate stress through the entrance of the voice. 240

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music Altus: In m. 3 the stress is normal, also in mm. 4 and 5. In m. 6 the so-called “intrinsic”shift of stress occurs. Tenor: In m. 2 the shift of stress to beat 2 is reinforced through lengthening (in this case through a dot). The same occurs in mm. 2–3 on “Pa-”; a discant clausula follows. In m. 4 a subordinate stress occurs with the voice entry. In m. 5 the stress on beat 2 is brought about in the simplest manner through lengthening (in this case dotting). In m. 6 the stresses are regularly metric. Bassus: In m. 1, beat 4 has an “intrinsic” shift of stress. A similar shift occurs on beat 2 of m. 2. The “intrinsic” shift in m. 3, beat 4, is further reinforced through the octave leap upwards (stress through a sudden rise in pitch, often to the limits of the range of an individual part, which calls attention to itself). M. 5, beat 2, is similarly made prominent by the high note but causes no weakening of the metric stress on beat 3. M. 6 contains an “intrinsic” shift to beats 2 and 4 (presumably, since Andrews does not give the continuation). For the sake of completeness it must be mentioned that unstressed syllables or tones must naturally correspond to those that are stressed. It is understandable that unstressed syllables on strong beats result from stressed syllables on weak beats. A schematic representation of the stresses in Andrews’s example (which is representative of many others) is as follows (measure numbers are in italics, beats within each measure follow them; stressed syllables are shown by +): 1 1 2 3 4 2 1 2 3 4 3 1 2 3 4 4 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 6 1 2 3 4 C+

+

+

+

A T B+

+ +

+

+ +

+

+

+

+

+ +

+ +

+

+ +

+ +

+ +

+ +

+

The result is a continuous onslaught of stresses in the individual voices, through which a robust liveliness results that cannot be accommodated into modern conducting patterns; one can understand why the old manner of conducting only according to the tactus allowed the singers the necessary freedom for verbal stresses. In general criticism of Andrews one should observe that Palestrina 241

horst leuchtmann did not add the text after composing the music, but rather he also began by setting a pre-existing text to music. The rhythm of the words was in principle fitted to the meter, and only where the composer wished to bring something out, music or text or both, or where he was unsatisfied with the important word accents within the bounds of the 1–2–3–4 meter, did something happen to the text declamation. The same is true here. The ingenuity of these possibilities of musical notation that have long since been given up without a replacement, indeed on the contrary turned upside down and scorned as “barbarisms,” lies in the fact that this method of shifting metric stress needs no special indication or method for the singer to perform it as a foregone conclusion. The notation of that time knew no sforzato, only notes, nothing but notes and rests, without auxiliary symbols. And in this the artfulness of the old notation can be seen: the singer has no score before him, in contrast to present practice; he basically does not know how his part fits into the whole. But the solution is as simple as it is surprising (for us): the singer must know the language in which he sings, and when he has the words before him, that is sufficient to bring out the correct accent in the musicalized speech, the music, in the most natural way.22 The leader of the choir governs the tactus and thus the tempo and can perhaps – for less well-trained singers – help here and there with entrance cues so far as possible and necessary. (With good choral groups that was certainly not necessary, and in any case the director had no score.) Thus it is as awkward as it is unnecessary to work individual voices with changes or shifts of beats in specific places, as many modern choral conductors try to do. The effect occurs of its own accord. It is exactly this simplicity, however, that brings us difficulties, because we no longer have grown up with this departed musical 22

This had already struck Johann Nicolaus Forkel (Allgemeine Geschichte der Musik [Leipzig: Schwickert, 1801, reprint 1967] vol. 2, p. 698), who found fault with bad text underlay in older music that occurred even in the mother tongue of the composer: “Since this occurred in the native language, it is hardly surprising that it happened far more often in compositions with Latin texts that very few composers understood. Johann Mouton in any case certainly did not understand the Latin language, for he had to communicate with Glarean through an interpreter. This incorrect and unnatural treatment of the text was probably a main reason why a few learned men of earlier centuries who understood the language well enough and heard it so often disfigured in the mouths of singers ultimately found no pleasure in the new styles of composition” (cited after Balmer, Lassos Motetten, pp. 100–1).

242

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music culture, and old music in misapprehension of its greatness is often enough considered to be a deficient early form of our own music. Our conductors paint and decorate the meter in the air instead of letting the singers quietly unfold it. It is sufficient to organize the meter in relation to the tempo, which should not remain stiff and unvarying, and bring the singers to the point that they declaim their texts correctly. As stated, this presupposes in any case a knowledge of languages – for Lasso Latin, French, Italian, and German – that is rather uncommon today. Perhaps it would work wonders if choral rehearsals were to begin with spoken mastery of the text to be sung. It may be seen again that old instruments and costumes of the past are not sufficient to bring old music to life again, but it is rather a matter of fundamental assumptions of verbal-musical performance. And it is exactly here that one may see the great difficulty of coming from vocal music and simple instrumental music (because it doubles the voices that lead) to the independence of instrumental music.In the beginning instrumental music fundamentally could not exist without text (except for dance music). For a long time it was confined only to a colla parte supporting role, exclusively decorative, in the service of the great vocal art. Thus far we have been speaking of Rore and Palestrina. It is hardly thinkable that Lasso should escape unscathed from the “errors” which contemporary and later criticism – although cautiously – certainly harped on (see note 6 above). For that reason I have cited in Example 11.3 a fourteenmeasure excerpt (mm. 30–43) from his eight-voice polychoral motet “Tui sunt coeli,”23 which shows especially clearly with what mastery Lasso managed the enlivening possibilities of stresses in the eight voices and how he still required lively vigor in the structure of a setting for double chorus, which would already be inherently stimulating. These verbal “off-beat” structures which are our subject belong fundamentally to the category of emphasis on portions of the text, comparable to repetition or to the employment of extremely high or low registers. This is how they were intended and this also is how they operate. No singer of that time would have considered singing even once such a shift of stress as “sedís” or “praeparatío,”which the metrically organized score would suggest only to a thoroughly unmusical person. And to wish to reproach Lasso and all the 23

SW, vol. 21, p. 7 (MOM 494).

243

horst leuchtmann 30

& b nw ∑

∑

Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ . œ #w

a,

et

&b w ∑

∑

a,

Vb w ∑

∑

w ˙˙

et

ju - di- ci - um

˙ ˙ w∆ ˙ Ó et

?b w ∑

∑

Ó

a,

˙

et

& b Ó w ˙ ˙ . œ #w et

et

w∆ ˙ ˙

ju

˙ ˙ w -

et ju- di

-

et ju- di

„

-

ci - um,

w

Ó ˙

∑

∑

„

w

se - dis

˙ . œ b˙ ˙ w

„

∑

∑

prae - pa - ra - ti - o,

∆ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ œ œ ˙ ˙ -

-

Ó w

-

w

‡ Ó ˙ œœ b˙ ˙ ˙

- ci - um>

∆ Ó #˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

<et

„

œ œ ˙‡ ˙ ˙ Ó ‡˙ w

prae - pa- ra - ti - o

<et ju- di

ci - um,

∆ ? b Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ b˙ w

prae-pa - ra - ti - o,

<et ju- di

di - ci - um,

∆ Vb Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

„

∑

w

<prae-pa-

‡ Ó ˙. œ ∑ b˙ b˙ ˙

ju- di - ci - um

„

˙. œ

∑

prae - pa - ra - ti - o,

ju- di - ci - um

ju - di - ci- um,

bw Vb w

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w

∑

ju- di - ci - um

w

a,

∑

w

prae - pa - ra - ti - o

∑

Ó

ci - um>

prae-pa- ra -

˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ b˙ ˙ w

ju - di - ci-um> prae

-

Ó ˙ ˙ œœ w <et ju -

-

˙ . œ b ˙‡

˙. œ w - di - ci - um>

∆ Ó˙

pa - ra - ti - o

∑

se -

˙ . œ b˙ ˙ prae - pa - ra- ti -

Example 11.3: Orlando di Lasso, “Tui sunt coeli,” mm. 30–43, from SW, vol. 21, p. 7

important composers of his time that they had set a great number of falsely accented words and sent them into the world – such a crazy reproach would itself be worthy of real “amusoi,” “ignoti,” or “vorächtern der music,” as Joachim a Burck describes them.24 When Burck summarizes the style characteristics of the idolized Lasso, his description seems coined for the imaginative involvement of Lasso (and others) with text accents: “. . . princeps in hoc nostro seculo Orlandus Dilassus . . . vere scit affectus exprimere, . . . et quod elegantissimum est, textum ita ordinare, ne accentibus iniuriam faciat” (the prince of our age, Orlando di Lasso, truly knows how to express the affect, and what is most elegant, to organize the text so that he does no 24

Joachim [Johannes] a Burck, Decades IIII (Mühlhausen, 1567), as cited by Ambros, Geschichte der Musik, vol. 3, p. 369, and Boetticher, Lasso, p. 839.

244

correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music 37

&b

b˙ ˙ w

∑

ra- ti - o,>

w

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w

<prae- pa- ra- ti - o,>

prae- pa - ra - ti- o

˙ . œb˙ ˙

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w prae - pa - ra - ti- o,

& b ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ›

‡ ‡ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ bw

<prae-pa-ra - ti - o>

se- dis tu - ae,

Vb w

‡ Ó ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ∑

w

tu - ae,

?b ∑

prae - pa- ra - ti - o

& b ˙ ˙ œœ˙ w se-dis tu

-

∑

ti - o

ae,

se - dis

Vb ˙˙ ˙ ˙ ∑ - dis tu - ae,

o,

<prae - pa- ra- ti - o>

˙‡ ˙ ˙‡

w

∑

tu

-

Ó

se- dis tu - ae,

prae- pa-ra - ti - o se

-

dis

tu - ae,

<prae-pa - ra - ti-o,>

prae - para- ti - o

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w <prae - pa-ra - ti - o,>

se - dis tu

w

se- dis

∑

˙. œ <prae - pa-

Ó ˙ œœ ˙ ˙ ˙

w

prae - pa- ra - ti - o

˙ . œ ˙‡ ˙ Ó ˙∑

˙. œ ˙ ˙

<prae-pa-ra - ti - o,>

prae - pa-ra - ti -

prae - pa- ra - ti- o,

‡ Ó ˙ œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

˙ œ œ ‡˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ b˙ ˙ w

prae - pa-ra - ti - o,

˙ œœ b ‡˙ ˙ ˙ Ó

se-dis tu - ae, <prae-pa-ra -

›

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w

ae,

se- dis

prae - pa-ra-ti - o

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w

‡ A˙ V b ˙ Ó ˙ œ œœ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ w

˙ ˙

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙

˙ . œ ˙‡ ˙ ˙ w ˙ œ œ ˙‡ ˙ Ó ˙ Ó <prae - pa- ra- ti - o,>

?b w

Ó

w

w -

w

∆ ˙ . œ ˙‡ ˙ Ó ˙ Ó ˙

ae,

˙ . œ b˙ ˙ w

˙. œ ˙ ˙ w

prae - pa - ra - ti - o,

<prae-pa-ra - ti - o,>

prae- pa-ra - ti - o

se -

˙. œ ˙ ˙ bw prae- pa - ra - ti - o

Example 11.3: (cont.)

injury to the accents). The fact that all composers of the sixteenth century made use of these “natural” changes of stress can only strengthen the view advocated here that an important means of contrapuntal writing has been brought to light again and rehabilitated, in theory as in practice. A final question really contains its own answer: what purpose does this shift of accent serve, especially when it occurs in such large numbers? The answer: it provides an additional solidification of the musical structure. In its effect and meaning it stands between the repetition and intensification figures of counterpoint and is closely related to stretto – of which it is in any case a virtuoso form – one might almost say a form of dramatic intensification of the musical statement. And it is thus an indispensable technique of vocal polyphony that later celebrated a meaningful 245

horst leuchtmann revival in instrumental music in the area of motivic work. To close with R. O. Morris, who recognized this dramatic element very well: “This constant rhythmical conflict is the most vital and suggestive feature in the whole of the sixteenth-century technique.”25 Translated by Peter Bergquist 25

Morris, Contrapuntal Technique, p. 23.

246

General index

accentuation metric and verbal compared, 233–4 quantitative, 235 three possibilities of, 239–40 vocal lines, 238 Albrecht V, Duke of Bavaria, vii, 21, 43, 47, 49–51, 69n.18 Alcarotto, Giovanni Francesco, 193 Altoviti, Antonio, 137 Ameyden, Christian, 201 Andrews, Herbert K., 238–41 (Ex. 11.2) Anerio, Felice, 143 Animuccia, Giovanni, 92, 93, 137, 144, 150 Missa Christe redemptor, 148 (Ex. 7.4) Missarum liber primus (1567), 144 Pater noster, 149 Animuccia, Paolo, 141 Antwerp, vii, 64–7, 160–2, 164–6 Arcadelt, Jacques, 93, 190 Archpoet Confession of Golias, 124–6 Arie napolitane, 79 d’Arras, Jean Terrier, 192 Augsburg, Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Ms. 25, 41n.3 Balbi, Lodovico, 200 Barrè, Antonio, 75, 78–9, 81–2, 87–9, 91–2, 93, 140–1, 207 Baston, Josquin, 141 Beethoven, Ludwig van Ritterballet, WoO 1, 127 Bente, Martin, 47 Berchem, Jachet A la dolc’ombra de la belle frondi, 92 Berg, Adam, 218–19, 222 Berg, Johann see Montanus

247

Bischoff, Bernhard, 124–7 Boetticher, Wolfgang, viii, 41, 54–9, 128, 138, 149, 186n.10, 192n.36 and 37, 199, 200 Bonagiunta, Giulio, 76 Borren, Charles van den, viii Bossuyt, Ignace, 120n.7 Breviarium Romanum (1568), 42–8 Bruno, Giovanbattista, 74–6, 79 Bruto, Gian Michele, 65 Burck, Joachim a, 244 Byrd, William, 14 Cambio, Perissone, 200 Canis, Cornelius, 160 canzone, 91–115 composers before 1560, 93 musical structure, 94–5 poets of musical settings, 93 Carafa da Stigliano, Giovan Francesco, 82 Caro, Annibal, 71 Castro, Jean de, 120n.7, 158–82, 201 Ad te levavi oculos meos, 160 Angelus ad pastores ait, 171, 174 (Ex. 8.3), 179 (Ex. 8.10) Confundantur superbi, 174, 180 (Ex. 8.11) Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam, 174–5, 181 (Ex. 8.12) Gustate et videte, 171, 175 (Ex. 8.4) In te, Domine, speravi, 173–4, 177–8 (Exx. 8.8., 8.9) Surgens Jesus, 171–2 (Ex. 8.1), 173, 177 (Ex. 8.7) Surrexit pastor bonus, 171, 173 (Ex. 8.2) Tribus miraculis, 171, 176 (Ex. 8.5) Uxor Joannis Pollet Sara, 165

general index Cherubini, Luigi Cours de contrepoint et de fugue, 230–1 Clement, Jacob (Clemens non Papa), 141, 161, 166 Epitaphium for, 120, 122–3, 128 Magnificats, 6, 19 masses, 20 composition, instruction in, 229 consonance, 227–8 contrafacta, 120–3, 127–30, 159 Copenhagen Chansonnier, 89 Cornet, Séverin, 184 Corona, Giovanni, 199 counterpoint abstract or instrumental compared to vocal, 229, 230–1 instruction in, 230–1 Crequillon, Thomas, 160–1 Crook, David, 1, 5n.8, 13n.15, 47 Daser, Ludwig masses, 20 Dentice, Don Luigi and Fabrizio, 80, 88 Desprez, Josquin, 167 accentuation of text, 229–30 Benedicta es caelorum Regina, 139, 167n.29 Doni, Antonfrancesco, Dialogo della musica, 92 Dorico, Valerico, 67–8, 74, 78 Dupérac, Etienne, 50–1 Erb, James, viii Este, Alfonso II, Duke of Ferrara, 192 Este, Ippolito II, Archbishop of Milan, 70 Eton Choirbook, 14 Farnese, Alessandro, 185–6, 190–1, 193–5 Farnese, Ottavio, 185, 190–1 Ferrero, Pier Francesco, 75–6 Ferretti, Giovanni, 201 Fiesco, Giovanni Giacomo, 161 Flori, Franz, 20–1 Flori, Johannes, 20, 52–62 Fogliano, Giacomo, 199 Forkel, Johann Nicolaus, 242n.22

248

Freising, Diocese of Breviarium Frisingense (1516), 44–47 Scamnalia secundum ritum et ordinem ecclesiae et diocesis Frisingensis (1520), 47 Fugger, Johann (Hans) Jakob, 164, 188 Gabrieli, Andrea, 20–3 Missa super Pater peccavi, 29–39 (Exx. 2.8, 2.10–12) Missa super Vexilla regis prodeunt, 29 Pater peccavi, 28–30, 33–4, (Exx. 2.7, 2.9) Sacrae cantiones I (1565), 21 Gardano, Antonio, 76, 92, 207–8 Gentile, Stefano, 64–5, 162 Gerlach, Theodor and Katharina, 218, 220–1 Gleason, Elizabeth G., 48–9 Göllner, Marie Louise, 42 Gombert, Nicolas, 6, 19 Gosswin, Anton, 20 Granvelle, see Perrenot Gregory XIII, Pope, 139 Grimaldi, Giovanni, 162 Gross, Horst-Willi, 236n.15 Guidobono, Giovan Francesco II, 68–72, 79–80 Guise, Cardinal Louis I de, 77 Haar, James, viii, 5, 99 Haberl, Franz Xaver, 5, 236n.15 Heinrich, Nicholas, 220, 222 Hermelink, Siegfried, 204 Hotz, Pierre du, 188, 194 Houtermann, Mark, 140 imitatio, 158–9, 175, 178 see also parody Josquin, see Desprez Kerle, Jacobus de, 139, 145 Kirsch, Winfried, 8 Laet, Jean, 161, 208

general index Lasso, Rudolf di, 15 Le Crec, Olivier, 88–90 Le Roy, Adrian, and Robert Ballard, 118, 119, 165, 210–18 Lechner, Leonhard, 119 Lerma, Hernando, 141 Leuchtmann, Horst, viii Lockenburg, Johannes, 20 Lockwood, Lewis, 22 Lowinsky, Edward, 138 Lupacchino, Bernardino, 93 Lupi, Johannes, 141 Luther, Martin Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu Dir, 24 Macque, Giovanni da, 151 madrigal, multi-stanza, 92–5 Magnificat tones, 1–3 (Ex. 1.1) Maier, Julius Joseph, 41 Maillard, Jean, 141 Maio, Giovan Thomaso di, 70 Manchicourt, Pierre de, 187 Marenzio, Luca, 149, 166, 183, 198, 200, 201 Margaret of Austria, 185, 188, 190 McGinness, Frederick J., 49, 51 Meier, Bernhard, 190n.31, 191n.34, 205, 236–7 Merlo, Alessandro, 200 meter, compared to rhythm, 231–2 Micheli, Domenico, 199 modes affect of individual, 95, 224 expressive or structural function, 101–15 representation of, 203–26 Mola, Francesco De La, 81–2 Montanus [Berg], Johann, and Ulrich Neuber, 218–19 Monte, Philippe de, 74, 162, 183, 199, 202 Dolce mio caro e pretioso albergo, 197 Morales, Cristóbal de, 6, 19 moresche, 82–8 Tiche toche, 83–6 (Ex. 4.2) Morris, Reginald O., 229, 231–5, (Ex. 11.1), 246

249

Munich, vii Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Mus. Mss., 20–1, 23, 41, 45–8 Dom zu Unserer lieben Frau: Mss., 42n.5 Nanino, Giovanni Maria, 153 Nasco, Jan, 93 Neefe, Christof Gottlob, 127 Nola, Gian Domenico da, 88 Palestrina, Giovanni Pierluigi da, vii, 132–3, 141, 144, 150, 151, 183, 202, 233 (Ex. 11.1) Confitebor tibi, 152–3 (Ex. 7.5) Crucem sanctam subiit, 147 (Ex. 7.3) Da fuoco si bella nasce il mio ardore, 197 Laudate Dominum omnes gentes, 149 Magnificats, 5, 6, 19 masses, 20 Misero stato degli amanti in questi, 202 Missa Benedicta es, 139 Missa Papae Marcelli, 144 Missa Petra sancta, 152 Motecta festorum totius anni (1569), 144 musicians provided for processions in Rome, 133–6 Primo libro dei mottetti a 5, 6, e 7 voci (1569), 144 Susanna ab improbiis, 153 Palmarts, Gottfried, 20 parody (imitation), 20–40, 152–5, 160 Magnificats, 13, 17–18 masses, choice of models, 22 Pense, Justinien, 164 Perrenot de Granvelle, Antoine, 164, 185, 186–90 Petrarch, Francesco Standomi un giorno, 95–9 Phalèse, Pierre, 117–19, 160–3, 166–9, 208–10 Phinot, Domenico, 150 Pius V, Pope, bull “Quod a nobis,” 43–4 Plantin, Christopher, 161

general index Polites, Joachim, 189 Pollet, Jean, 164–5 polychoral music in Rome, 148–52 Pontio, Pietro, 12n.14, 228 Porta, Costanzo, 93 Portinaro, Francesco, 93 Powers, Harold, 203–7, 225 Pressauer, Franz, 21 printing and editing of music, Rome, 75–9, 144 psalm tone 4, 25 (Ex. 2.2) Rampollini, Matteo, 92–3 Rasmussen, Niels Krogh, 50–1 Reese, Gustave, 8, 229–30 Reggio, L’Hoste da Io vo cangiar l’usato, 92 Roche, Jerome, viii Rome, 66–7, 71, 74–90, 132–57 Rore, Cipriano de, 93, 141, 166, 183, 190–2, 199, 236–7 Alma real se come fide stella, 190 Expectans exspectavi, 237 masses, 20 Mentre lume maggior del secolo nostro, 191 O socii neque enim, 187 Vieni dolce Hymeneo, 191–2 Virtute magna, 236 Rossetti [Rossetto], Stefano, 200 Ruffo, Vincenzo, 93

Toraldo, Neapolitan family, 81–2 Tracetti, Francesco, 76–8 Trent, Council of, 42–4, 48–9, 140, 144, 147, 155 Truchsess von Waldburg, Cardinal Otto, 138–9, 147 Tumler, Walram, 62–3 Turnhout, Gérard Van, 160, 184, 189 Turnhout, Jean, 183–202 biography, 184–5, 189 madrigals: Ben veggio di lontano, 195–6 (Ex. 9.3) O beltà rara, 195–6 (Ex. 9.1) Questi son lasso, questi, 195–6 (Ex. 9.2) Voi ch’ascoltate in rime, 195–7 (Ex. 9.4) Vorria parlare e dire, 185n.7 Utendal, Alexander, 158–9 Valent, Adrian, 141 Vento, Ivo de, 20, 23, 27, 159 Verdelot, Philippe, 199 Victoria, Tomás Luis de, 140, 150 Vigili, Cavalier Honofrio, 75–6, 78 villanelle, 67–8, 70–4, 79, 89 Vinci, Pietro, 199

Saen, Elisabeth, 161 Salerno, Prince of 79–80, 89–90 Sandberger, Adolf, viii, 236n.15 Senfl, Ludwig hymns, 42, 46–8 Magnificats, 6, 19 Susato, Tielman, 64, 161, 187, 208–9

Waelrant, Hubert, 160 Wearing, Clive, 52 Wilhelm V, Duke of Bavaria, 42–3, 48, 51–2, 62–3, 69n.18 Willaert, Adrian accentuation of text, 230 Domine quid multiplicati sunt, 236n.16 O socii neque enim, 187

Textoris, Guglielmo, 198, 202 tonal type, 203–26

Zoilo, Annibale, 141, 149–151 Nunc dimittis, 151, 156–7 (Ex. 7.7)

250

Index of Lasso compositions and printed sources chansons Susanne un jour, 153 Une puce, 235n.14 hymns, 41–63 dating, 52–62 Lectiones I, 167 madrigals Amor che vedi ogni pensieri aperti, 199 Bella guerriera mia, 200 Ben veggio di lontano, 195 (Ex. 9.3), 199 Come va’l mondo, 200 Lagrime di San Pietro, 219, 224, 225, 227 O beltà rara, 195 (Ex. 9.1), 199 Occhi piangete, 202 Quando fia mai quel giorno, 192n.36 Questi son lasso, questi, 195 (Ex. 9.2), 199 Standomi un giorno, 91–115, 166 Vieni dolce Hymeneo, 191 Voi ch’ascoltate in rime, 195 (Ex. 9.4), 201 Magnificats (numeration as in SWNR), 1–19 performance practice, 3–5 7 (Septimi toni), 10 16 (Octavi toni), 8, 15, 16, 17 30 (Sexti toni), 10 37 (Si par souhait), 10 38 (Il est jour), 16, 17 58 (Ultimi miei sospiri), 17–18 62 (Octavi toni), 7 68 (Dies est laetitiae), 10 69 (Benedicta es caelorum regina), 139 80 (Vergine bella), 7 90 (Pange lingua), 18 94 (Quinti toni), 7

251

97 (Erano capei d’oro), 152–3 masses, 18–19 Missa super Io son ferito, 152 Missa super Locutus sum in lingua mea, 23–8 (Ex. 2.6) motets, 138, 140–1, 148, 166–9 Alma nemes, 66 Alma Venus, 235n.14 Angelus ad pastores ait, 166, 171–4 (Exx. 8.3, 8.10) Benedicam Dominum in omni tempore, 142, 166 Bestia curvafia [Bestia stultus homo], 122 Confitemini Domino, 142 Confundantur superbi, 166, 174 (Ex. 8.11) Deliciae Phoebi, 187 Deus misereatur nostri, 141, 142, 149 Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam, 166, 174–5 (Ex. 8.12) Fertur in conviviis, 116–31, 166–7, 169 Flemus extremos, 235n.14 Fulgebunt justi, 166 Gustate et videte, 138, 141–3, 171 (Ex. 8.4) In convertendo Dominus, 142, 151 In me transierunt, 142, 144–5 (Ex. 7.1) In te, Domine, speravi, 166, 170, 173–4 (Exx. 8.8–9) Jam lucis orto sidere, 122 Legem pone mihi, 166 Locutus sum in lingua mea, 23–6 (Exx. 2.1–5), 142, 144 (Ex. 7.2), 151 Memento peccati tui, 236n.15 Nunc gaudere licet, 122 Nuntium vobis fero, 235n.14 Nuptias claras, 235n.14

i n d e x o f l as s o c o m p o s i t i o n s a n d p r i n t e d s o u r c e s motets (cont.) O decus celsi, 235n.14 Pater peccavi, 167 Praesidium Sara, 165 Quare tristis es, anima mea, 142 Quia vidisti me, Thoma, 140 Quid prodest stulto, 167 Scio enim quod redemptor meus vivit, 141 Sidus ex claro, 235n.14 Surgens Jesus, 166, 171–2 (Exx. 8.1, 8.6–7) Surrexit pastor bonus, 142–3, 166, 171 (Ex. 8.2) Tribus miraculis, 166, 171 (Ex. 8.5) Tui sunt caeli, 243 (Ex. 11.3) Ubi est Abel, 166 Veni in hortum meum, 166, 169 Verba mea auribus percipe, 166, 168 Penitential Psalms, 159, 165, 218, 224 Prophetiae Sibyllarum, 227 villanella (ascribed to Lasso) Voria che tu cantas’ una canzona, 72–4

* Printed sources of Lasso’s music (listed by RISM number and brief title) 1555a (14. livre), 64, 140, 162 1555b (D’Orlando di Lassus il primo libro), 64, 140, 162 1555c (Madrigali I 5 v), 76, 207 155530 (Villanelle II), 67 1555 RISM deest (Muse II 3 v), 81–2 1556a (Motetti I 5–6 v), 138, 164, 187, 208 1557b (Muse II [Madrigali II] 5 v), 75, 91 155712 (Muse II 3 v), 88–9 155719 (Canzoni alla Napolitana I), 74n.24 156014 (Villotte III), 88n.53 156018 (Madrigali I 4 v), 77 1561 RISM deest (Motettorum 5, 6 v), 142 1562a (Sacrae cantiones 5 v), 142, 208, 219 1562c (Sacrae cantiones 5 v), 208

252

15627 (Muse III 4 v), 79 1563c (Madrigali III 5 v), 79, 183, 207 15633 (Liber I musarum 4 v), 140 1564b (Primus liber concentuum sacrorum), 214 1564c (Chansons I 4 v), 208–9 1564d (14. livre chansons 4–5 v), 117–18, 167 1564 RISM deest (7. livre chansons), 117–18, 167 1565a (Modulorum II vol. 4–10 v), 215 1565c (Cantiones sacrae II 5–6 v), 76 1565e (Lectiones), 142 15658 (7. livre chansons), 117 1566c (Sacrae cantiones II 5–6 v), 142 1566d (Sacrae cantiones III 5–6 v), 142 1566e (Sacrae cantiones IV 6–8 v), 159, 208 1566f (Lectiones), 167 1567k (Madrigali IV 5 v), 183 1567l (Lieder I 5v), 219–20 15679 (7. livre chansons), 117 1568a/b (Selectissimae cantiones), 159 1569a (Cant. aliquot 5 v), 219 1569f (Sacrae cantiones IV 6–8 v), 142 15697 (Liber I sacr. cant. 4 v), 168 15698 (Liber II sacr. cant. 4 v), 117, 119, 168 1570c (Cant. sacr. 6–8 v), 219 1570d (Mellange), 117, 211, 213, 224 15706 (2. livre chansons 4–5 v), 191n.35 157011 (7. livre chansons), 117 1571d/b (Modulorum I 5 v, Moduli quinis v), 168, 215–16 1571f (Chansons nouvelle 5 v), 212, 215 1572e (Modulorum II 5 v), 168 1572g (Lieder II 5 v), 219–20 157311 (7. livre chansons), 117 1574b (Patrocinium II, Missae), 139 1575c (Motetti 3 v), 168 157510 (7. livre chansons), 117 1576c (Patrocinium V, Magnificat), 142 1576i (Meslanges), 116, 117, 120, 211–12, 214, 224 Oxford partbooks, 116, 130–1 1576l (Thrésor 4–6 v), 120–1

i n d e x o f l as s o c o m p o s i t i o n s a n d p r i n t e d s o u r c e s 1576n (17. livre 4–5 v), 211–12 1576r (Lieder III 5 v), 220 1577c (Cantiones 2 v), 219, 221 1577e (Moduli 4–9 v), 215–16 1579b (Selectissimae cantiones 4–5 v), 117, 119–20 15791 (7. livre chansons), 117 1581g (Villanelle), 88 1582c (Fasciculus aliquot sacr. cant.), 219, 224 1582d (Sacrae cantiones 5 v), 225 1582e (Motetta 6 v), 225 1582h (Thrésor), 120–1 1583b (Lieder I–II–III 5 v), 220–1, 224 1584f (Continvation du meslanges), 212–13

253

15843 (7. livre chansons), 117 1585a (Sacrae cantiones 4 v), 217, 225 1585b (Cantiones sacrae 6–8 v), 225 1586g (Meslanges), 212, 224 1587d (Sacr. cant. moduli 4 v), 217–18 1588c/d/e (Moduli 4 & 8, 5, 6 v) 218 1592b (Fleur des chansons), 209–10 1594a (Cantiones sacrae 6 v), 219, 225 1594b (Thrésor), 120–1 1595a (Lagrime di San Pietro), 219, 225, 227 1599 RISM deest (7. livre chansons), 117 1604a (MOM), 120–1, 127, 220–3 1619a (Centum Magnificat), 15