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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.
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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
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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.
8
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).
9
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.
13
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.
15
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.
17
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.
49
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.
50
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.”
66
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
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.
68
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1550s
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).
70
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.
71
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.
74
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
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.
75
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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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
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,
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mi
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?œ
j œ
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œ
a,
pri
-
la mi -
-
la
Vœœ
pri
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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
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A -
‰
œ
tu
-
a.
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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
-
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voi
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ta
mau -
ti
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˙
ni
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b˙
-
ni
-
œ
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œ
gra
bo
can
œ
gra
œ
gra
˙
hk = h 2 4 ˙
œ
-
b˙
can
œ
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bo
can
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bo
ta
2 ˙ 4
-
ta 2 ˙ 4
-
ta
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pres - sa, cu -
h = h. 3 4
˙
na
-
ta.
na
˙
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ta.
na
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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
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ta:
La
sol
fa re mi,
œ
œ œ
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sol
fa re
˙
ta:
˙
ta:
œ
Œ ∑
Œ
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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
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sol
fa
re
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mi,
36
‰ œj
43
la.
Ni
‰ Jœ
Vœ
ut.
Ni
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be
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re
mi
fa
œ
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la
sol
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fa re mi,
la
sol
Œ
œ
re mi,]
la
sol
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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
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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,
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ta:
œ
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re
mi
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ra
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fa
sol
∑
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ta:
64
∑
& ˙
U - na, doi, e
V ˙
tre,
la.
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? ˙
tre,
ut.
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Mi
fa
La,
Fa,
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∑
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∑
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Mi
fa
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la
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re
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Œ
j ‰ œ œ œ œ
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mi.
Œ
1550s
la
œ
œ
sol,
fa
‰ œJ œ
tre,
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fa
mi
fa,
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mi
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fa
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re, re
la
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Œ
re,
71
&
œ
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∑
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∑
j &‰ œ œ 78
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∑
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la,
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re
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mi
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mi
fa
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re
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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.
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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 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 t