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Orlando Di Lasso Studies PDF
Orlando Di Lasso Studies PDF
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.
Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York
www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521593878
A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library
Preface [vii]
List of abbreviations [xi]
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
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
vi
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.
vii
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
viii
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 Leuchtmann, Leben, pp. 253–4. The date “1560” in the lower-right corner of the
decorative frame is unrelated to the portrait itself.
5 Ibid., p. 45.
ix
p r e fac e
Lasso’s “Magnificat Ultimi miei sospiri”, as copied 1579 in Mus. Ms. 11 of the
Munich collection. The reproduction in Mary Lewis’s paper of the text of Petrarch’s
“Standomi un giorno” as edited by Gianfranco Contini and translated by James
Wyatt Cook is by permission of the Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance
Studies, State University of New York.
This collection of studies had its inception in a conference on Orlando di
Lasso held at the University of Oregon, Eugene, Oregon, 23–25 October 1994. Five
of the participants in that conference are represented in this volume (Cardamone,
Erb, Göllner, Haar, and Bergquist), though not with the papers that were delivered
on that occasion. The conference was possible in large part because of the initiative
and support of Anne Dhu McLucas, Dean of the School of Music, University of
Oregon. After the conference she took the first steps in exploring the publication of
augmented conference proceedings, the result of which was ultimately the present
collection of studies. I am more grateful than I can hope to say for her
contributions to making this volume possible and for her continuing interest and
active support as the project evolved. I am also grateful to my colleagues and
friends Marian Smith, University of Oregon, James Erb, University of Richmond,
and David Crook, University of Wisconsin, for help with various stages of the
project, and to my wife, Dorothy Bergquist, who has always been a careful reader
and astute critic of just about everything I have ever written. Above all, my deepest
thanks go to my colleagues who so willingly contributed to this volume.
peter bergquist
university of oregon
x
Abbreviations
xi
a b b r ev i at i o n s
Quellen revidierte Auflage. Ed. Horst Leuchtmann.
Wiesbaden: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1968– .
SWNR Orlando di Lasso, Sämtliche Werke, neue Reihe. Ed.
Siegfried Hermelink et al. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1956–96.
xii
1 Aspects of form in Orlando di Lasso’s
Magnificat settings
james erb
1
ja m e s e r b
Initial Reciting Medial Reciting Terminal
flourish tone flourish tone flourish
V œ œ œ œ – œ œ œ œ – œ œ œ œ
9.Su - sce - pit Israel pu - e - rum su - um, recordatus misericor - di - ae su - ae.
10.Sic - ut lo - cutus est ad pa - tres no- stros, Abraham et semini ejus in sae - cu - la.
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 sixteenth-
century Magnificat settings.3 A reason for this preference for the even-
numbered 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 anti-
climactic) 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 See Winfried Kirsch, Die Quellen der mehrstimmigen Magnificat- und Te Deum
Vertonungen bis zur Mitte des 16. Jahrhunderts (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1966),
p. 44.
4 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.
“Magnificat.” 5 Cf. SWNR, vol. 13, pp. xi–xii.
3
ja m e s e r b
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 musi-
cians 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 can-
torum 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 rep-
ertory – that is, constituted an “imitation” or “parody” Magnificat – profes-
sional 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 partic-
ipant was individually censed during the singing of the Magnificat, and
since at solemn Vespers in so important a church there were many partici-
pants, 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 poly-
phonic 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
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 prin-
ciples 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 dia-
grams 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 propor-
tions. 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 per-
spective 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 partici-
pants, 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 consis-
tency 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 tangen-
tially by external considerations. It is true, of course, that in the six even-
numbered 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 accommo-
date 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 com-
posers 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 five-
voice 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 pat-
terns, 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 con-
sistent practice of setting verse 4 for the full complement.A reduced combi-
nation 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 poly-
phonic 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 character-
istically 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 appar-
ent.
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 opportu-
nities 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 SWNR, vol. 13, pp. 227–9.
11 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.
12 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
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 juxtapo-
sition 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. Upper-
case letters indicate voice parts: S: Superius; A: Altus; T: Tenor; B: Bassus.
10
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 text-
illustration 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 rep-
resented 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 litur-
gical 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 perva-
sive. 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 inhab-
its 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 appro-
priate 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).
12
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 odd-
numbered 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 ele-
ments – melodic fragments,chord progressions, rhythmic patterns, succes-
sions 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 musi-
cians (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 plain-
chant. Primary medial cadences in Lasso’s Magnificat verses reveal them-
selves 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 Crook, Imitation Magnificats, pp. 207–9.
17 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.
18 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).
19 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 mono-
phonic 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 inexpli-
cably 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 struc-
ture.
The two sections of Lasso’s Magnificat verses, effectively separated by
20 See SWNR, vol. 14, pp. 135–6. 21 SWNR, vol. 13, pp. 230–32.
22 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 com-
binations 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 poten-
tiam,”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 subordi-
nate 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 rep-
16
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 middle-
period 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 sec-
tions 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 chro-
nology 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
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 conser-
vative 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 com-
posed earlier than that year.27
18
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 sur-
viving compositions and the number of contemporary printed and manu-
script 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 com-
posed canticle – contain traits parallel to those mentioned above; and if so,
why; and if not, why not.
19
2 Orlando di Lasso and Andrea Gabrieli: two
motets and their masses in a Munich choir book
from 1564–65
marie louise göllner
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
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 recogni-
tion. 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 inter-
rupted by his appointment to the post at St. Mark’s in Venice.
The choice of models for the masses, as indicated above, was some-
what 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 over-
lapping 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 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.
6 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.
7 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 straight-
forward in the case of the masses by Gabrieli and Ivo de Vento based on six-
voice 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 par-
ticularly 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 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.
9 ”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.
10 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 & 24 ∑
w w
w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
˙
Lo - cu - tus sum in lin- gua me - a,
4 W Ó ˙ ˙ w ˙ w
Altus V2 w #w w
Lo - cu - tus sum in lin - gua me -
Example 2.1: Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 1–5, cantus and
altus 1
11 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.)
12 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 œ. 6 œ œ œ œ. 6 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ.
(a)
Motive A
Cantus & 24 Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ . œ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ œ #œ # œ ˙ w
(b) in lin - gua me - a, in lin - gua me - a:
Example 2.2: (a) Psalm tone 4; (b) Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,”
mm. 10–14, cantus
Motive B
˙ ˙ ˙ w
Bassus 1
?C
w ∑ „ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
et con- so - la - tus es me,
Bassus 2
?CÓ w ˙ ˙ w ˙ w w „ „ ∑
et con - so - la - tus es me,
25
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Secunda pars
Cantus &C∑ w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œœ˙ w
Fac me- cum si - gnum
Example 2.4: Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea,” mm. 52–4, cantus
w ˙ ˙ ˙ œœœœ w
Bassus 1
?C ˙ œœœœ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó w
ut sci - am quid de - sit mi - hi, ut sci - am
Bassus 2
?C w Ó ˙ œœœœ w ˙ ˙
˙ ˙
˙ ˙ Ó ˙ œœœœ w w
(est:) ut sci - am quid de - sit mi - hi, ut sci - am
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 half-
step 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 fre-
quently within the movements (see Ex. 2.5).
The mass, then, may be outlined as follows (unless otherwise indi-
cated 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 begin-
ning of the “Qui tollis” and at two points within the Credo (“Et iterum ven-
turus 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 imi-
tation 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 partic-
13 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).
14 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˙ Ó ˙. œ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó
˙ œœœœ
w
w ∑
Bassus 1 ˙ w
Do - mine De - us, Rex
w
coe- le - stis, De - us Pa - ter
? ˙. œ ˙ ˙. œ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w Ó ˙ œœœœw w
Bassus 2 w w
Do - mi- ne De - us, Rex coe - le - stis, De - us Pa - 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 well-
known 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 con-
trast 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 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.
16 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 W Ó ˙. œ œ . Jœ
W w Ó ˙ œ œ . œw
œ J
w ˙ ˙
o. Sur - gam, sur - gam, et
&bC ˙ œ œ œ. œw w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ œ. œw w j˙ ˙
Quintus
J J ˙. œ œ.œ ˙
Sur - gam, sur - gam, sur - gam, et
˙. ˙ ˙. œœ w ˙ ˙. ˙ ˙ ˙
Altus VbC œ œ . Jœ w œ œ . œJ œ œ . Jœ . œw w
Sur - gam, sur - gam, sur - gam, et
˙. ˙ ˙. ˙
Tenor VbC ˙ œ œ . Jœ . œw w w œ œ . œJ w ∑ Ó
˙ w
o. Sur - gam, sur - gam, et i -
? C ∑ Ó ˙ œ j Ó ˙. j
Bassus b ˙ W œ œ. œw W œ œ.œ w w
re - o. Sur - gam, sur - gam,
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 move-
ments 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
Tenor Vb ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙
ce - dit qui cum pa- tre et fi - li - o, qui cum pa- tre et fi- li- o si - mul a - do - ra - tur et
? ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙
Bassus 1 b ˙ ˙. ˙ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w ∑ „ ˙. œ ˙
ce - dit quicum pa- tre et fi - li - o si - mul a - do - ra - tur et
?b ∑ ˙ ˙ ∑ ∑ w w
Bassus 2
˙. œ œ œ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w
qui cum pa- tre et fi - li - o si- mul a - do - ra - tur 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 pre-
sented 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
(a) Prima pars 5
Cantus &b C∑ w w w ∑ w w ˙ ˙ w. ˙
Pa - ter, Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi,
&b C„ ∑ w w w w
Quintus
w ˙ w ˙
Pa - ter, Pa - ter, pec - ca -
W W
w w. ˙ w w
Altus Vb C ∑
Pa - ter, Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi,
Tenor Vb C„ W w ∑ „ „
Pa - ter,
Bassus
?b C„ „ W W „
Pa - ter,
10
&b ∑ w w bw ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
˙ ˙
Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi, Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi,
&b w ∑ ∑ w w ˙ ˙ w w W
vi, Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi,
W w ∑ „ w
Vb ˙ ˙ w w
Pa - ter, Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi,
Vb W w. ˙ w w W ∑ w
Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi in
? W ˙
b „ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
˙
Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi, Pa - ter, pec - ca - vi in
(b) [Repetendum]
Cantus &b „ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Fac me si - cut
?b w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w w ∑
Bassus
˙. œ œ œ ˙
&b w Ó ˙ ˙ w ˙ w w
u - num, fac me si - cut u - num
? „ ∑ w ˙ ˙ w w
b ˙ ˙
fac me si - cut u - num
Example 2.9: Gabrieli, “Pater peccavi”: (a) mm. 1–10; (b) mm. 32–9, cantus
and bassus only; (c) mm. 53–65
31
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(c) Secunda pars
Cantus &b C„ „ „ „
Quintus &b C„ „ ∑ w ˙ w ˙
Quan - ti mer - ce -
˙ ˙ w
Altus Vb Cw ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i in do - mo pa - tris me -
Vb C„ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Tenor
˙
Quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i in do - mo
Bassus
?b C„ „ „ „
w w ˙
&b „ „ ∑ ˙
Quan - ti mer - ce -
&b ˙ w
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w
na - ri - i in do - mo pa - tris me - i,
w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙
Vb ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙.
i, quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i in do - mo pa - tris
Vb œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙ w ˙
w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
pa - tris me - i, Quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri -
? ˙ ˙
b ∑ w ˙ w ˙ ˙
˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
Quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i in do - mo
&b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
na - ri - i in do - mo pa - tris me - i, quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i,
&b ∑ Ó ˙ w „ Ó w ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i, quan - ti
˙ ˙ w Ó w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
Vb ˙ ˙
me - i, quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i in do - mo pa - tris
V b ˙. œ w w w w w w ∑
w w
i in do - mo pa - tris me - i,
?b w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
pa - tris me - i, quan - ti mer - ce - na - ri - i in do - mo pa - tris
32
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) 5
Cantus & b C∑ w ˙ ˙ w ∑ w ˙ ˙ w w. ˙ w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙
Ky - ri - e, Ky - ri - e e - lei - son, Ky -
& b C„ ∑ w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w
˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w
Quintus
w . ˙ Ky - ri - e
w
e - lei- son, Ky - ri - e -
lei - son, Ky - ri - e -
Altus Vb C
W ∑
w. ˙ w w ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w
Ky - ri - e, Ky - ri - e - lei - son Ky - ri - e
Tenor V b C„ w. ˙ w ∑ „ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙
Ky - ri - e, Ky - ri - e e - lei -
? C„ „ „ „ „ w. ˙ w ∑
Bassus 1 b
Ky - ri - e,
? C„ „ w. ˙ W ∑ „ Ó w ˙
Bassus 2 b
Ky - ri - e, Ky - ri -
10
&b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ∑ ∑ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
w w w ˙ ˙ w w w
w
ri - e e - lei - son, Ky - rie e - lei - son, Ky - ri - e
&b w w ∑ w
w. ˙ w w „ „ w. ˙
œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ w ˙ ˙
lei - son, Ky - ri - e lei - son, Ky - ri -
˙ ˙ w ˙. w
˙ ˙
Vb ˙ w w ∑
e - lei- son, Ky - ri - e e - lei - son, Ky - ri - e
Vb w Ó ˙ ˙ œœw w Ó w ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ œ œ ˙
˙ œœœœ ˙ w
son Ky - ri - e e - lei - son, Ky - ri - e - lei -
?
w w. ˙ W ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w
b ∑ w w ∑
Ky - ri - e - lei - son, Ky - ri - e e - lei - son,
? ∑
∑
b ˙ ˙. œ œ œ W ˙. œ w w w w ˙ ˙ w w
e e - lei - son, Ky - ri - e - lei - 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
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5
(b)
˙. œ˙
Cantus & b C w ˙ .œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œœœ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙. ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙
Qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun - di, pec - ca- ta mun -
Quintus &b C„ ∑ w w w ww. ˙ w W
pec. -
Qui
˙
˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
- lis
˙ œ œœ˙ w
ca - ta tol mun
w.
-
œœ
Altus Vb C∑ w œ
Qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun -
Vb C„ „ ∑ w ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ w
Tenor
˙
Qui tol - lis pec- ca - ta mun -
Bassus 1
?b C„ „ „ „ „ „
?
Bassus 2 b C„ „ „ „ „ „
10
&b W „ „ „ „ Ó w ˙
di mi - se -
&b ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w Ó˙
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ „ ∑
˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ
di, qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun - di mi -
w ˙ ˙ ˙.
V b Ó ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ œœw
di, qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun - di, pec - ca - ta mun -
Vb W ∑ Ó ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
˙ œ œœœ ˙ œœ w
di, qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun - di,
? b W
w w w w w. ˙ W W
Qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun - di
? ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œœœ œœ w ˙
b ∑ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ œ œœœ
œ
Qui tol - lis pec - ca - ta mun -
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 incarna-
tus est”and “Crucifixus”(Exx. 2.10d and 2.10e), and reaches its final culmi-
nation 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
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)
&b „ ∑ w w ∑ w w
Cantus w
Pa - trem pa - trem
Quintus &b ∑ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ∑ w
Pa - trem o - mni - po - ten - tem, pa -
W w ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w
Altus Vb „
Pa - trem o - mni - po - ten - tem,
Tenor Vb W W w
˙ ˙ w w Ó w
Pa - trem o - mni - po - ten - tem, pa -
? W W
Bassus 1 b „ w ∑ „
Pa - trem pa -
?
Bassus 2 b „ „ „ W
w
Pa - trem
(d) 5
Cantus &bCW w w w w w w ˙ ˙ w W ˙
Et in - car - na - tus est de spi - ri - tu san - cto
w w ˙ ˙ W ˙
Quintus &bCW w w w w w
Et in - car - na - tus est de spi - ri - tu san - cto
W w w w w w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œœw w
Altus VbC
Et in - car - na - tus est de spi - ri - tu san - cto
Tenor VbCW w w ˙ w ˙ w w w. ˙ w w w
Et in - car - na - tus est de spi - ri - tu san - cto
? CW w. ˙ w ˙ œœœœ ˙ w w w
Bassus 1 b ˙ w w ˙
Et in - car - na - tus est de spi - ri - tu san - cto
? C w w
Bassus 2 b W w w w w w. ˙ w w W
Et in - car - na - tus est de spi - ri - tu san - cto
5
(e)
Cantus &b „ „ ∑ w w w w w „ Ó w ˙
Cru - ci - fi - xus e - ti -
Quintus &b „ „ „ „ W w w w w
˙ . œ œ œ b˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
Cru - ci - fi - xus e -
W w w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
Altus Vb
Cru - ci - fi - xus e - ti - am pro no - bis
35
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5
(f )
Cantus &bCW W W W W
A - gnus De - i
Quintus & b C ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙
˙
w w w
A - gnus De - i, A - gnus De -
Altus 1 VbC∑ ˙. œ œ œ ˙ w
˙. œ w ˙ w ˙ w w
A - gnus De - i,
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
A - gnus De
œ œ -w i,
˙
Altus 2 VbC„ ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
A - gnus De - i, A - gnus De -
Tenor VbC„ „ „ „ „
Bassus 1
?bC„ „ „ „ „
? C„ „ „ „ „
Bassus 2 b
10
&b „ ∑ Ó ˙
W W W
A -
&b W W „ „ „
i,
V b Ó ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ „ „ ∑ ˙. œ
A - gnus De - i, A -
w
Vb Ó ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w w
i, A - gnus De - i, A - gnus De - i,
Vb W W W W W
A - gnus De - i,
? „
b œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ w ˙
˙.
A - gnus De - i, A - gnus De -
? ∑
b ˙. œ œ œ ˙ w
˙. œ w ˙ w ˙ ˙. œ w
A - gnus De - i, A - gnus De -
36
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 tocca-
tas of the organist.
If we call the descending fourth motive A, then, the mass may be out-
lined 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) 5
Vb w w ˙ ˙ w w Ó ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w
Tenor œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙
Et re - sur - re - xit ter - ti - a di - e, ter -
? ∑ ∑ ∑ w w. ˙ w w Ó
Bassus 1 b ˙ œ œ ˙
Et re - sur - re - xit ter -
? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ W
Bassus 2 b
Et
10
˙ ˙ ˙.
Vb œ œœw ˙ w
Ó ˙ œœ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w
∑
ti - a di - e, ter - ti - a di - e,
?b ˙ œ
˙ œœœ œœ˙ w ∑ w w ˙ ˙ w ˙
˙ œœ˙
ti - a di - e, et re - sur - re - xit ter -
? w w ˙ ˙ w ˙ œ˙ w ∑ w
b ˙ œœ˙ ˙ ˙ œœœœ œ
re - sur - re - xit ter - ti - a di - e, et
37
˙ ˙ œ œœœ œœœœœ œ˙
(b)
Vb ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ œ œ œ œ
se - det ad dex - te- ram pa - - - - - - - - -
? w w ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œœœ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
b œ
pa - tris se - det ad dex - te - ram pa - - - - - -
?b œœ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ Ó ˙
œœœœ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w
tris, se - det ad dex - te - ram pa -
42
œ
V b œ œ œ ˙. œ œ œ œ
œ ˙ ˙ œ œ w ˙ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙
- - - tris, se - det ad dex - te - ram
?b œ œ œ œ w ∑ ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w
- tris, se - det ad dex -
?
b w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w › ∑
tris se - det ad dex - te - ram pa - tris,
47
? w ˙. ˙ œœw ›
b ˙ ˙
te - ram pa - - - - - - - - - - - - - tris.
? ∑ ∑ Ó
b ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w › ›
se - det ad dex - te - ram pa - 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
&b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ. œ w W w ∑ „
Cantus
J
[-ca-] re vi - vos
j
& b Ó ˙ . œ œ . Jœ w w ˙. œ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w
œ œ.
Quintus
˙.
vi - vos, vi - vos et mor - tu - os
Altus V b w w œ œ . Jœ ˙ œœ ˙ w w bw ˙ ˙ w
[-ca-] re vi - vos et mor - tu - os
Vb w „ ˙. œ œ . Jœ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w
Tenor w
ca - re vi - vos et mor - tu - os
? Ó ˙. j Ó ˙ bw ˙ ˙ w
Bassus 1 b „ œ œ. œ
w
w
vi - vos et mor - tu - os
? ˙. œ œ. œ ˙ w w ∑ „
Bassus 2 b w w w J
[-ca-] re vi - 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 paint-
ing 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 sub-
tleties 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 presenta-
tion 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
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 imi-
tative 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
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 contex-
tual 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 ques-
tions 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 opportu-
nity to explore such relationships among liturgy, music, and post-
Tridentine 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-
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.
4 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 liturgi-
cal 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 con-
siderations 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 rep-
ertory, 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
6 Quoted in Pierre Salmon, The Breviary through the Centuries, trans. Sister David
Mary (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1962), p. 20.
7 For the boundaries of the various German dioceses in the sixteenth century, see
Max Spindler, Bayerischer Geschichtsatlas (Munich: Bayerischer Schulbuch-
Verlag, 1969), pp. 26–7, or Karl Hausberger and Benno Hubensteiner, Bayerische
Kirchengeschichte (Munich: Süddeutscher Verlag, 1985).
8 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
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
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 brevi-
ary “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 compo-
sitions in this source lack attributions, Martin Bente identified concor-
dances 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 dem-
onstrated 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 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.
10 For an inventory of Mus. Ms. 52 see KBM 5/1, pp. 178–88.
11 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.
12 David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation
Munich (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), p. 43.
47
daniel zager
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 poly-
phonic 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 con-
48
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:
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 photo-
graphed – 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 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
approach. . . .” 17 Pastor, History of the Popes, vol. 20, p. 42.
18 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.
19 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.
20 Ibid., p. 109. 21 McGinness, Right Thinking and Sacred Oratory, p. 87.
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
51
daniel zager
beginning work on a new musical repertory to match the 1568 Roman bre-
viary 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.
52
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 tem-
poral feasts (together with their associated hymns) that were to be observed
at the Munich court chapel during Vespers.26 By correlating the dates pro-
vided 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 festi-
val 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 manu-
script was compiled gradually during 1580–1 – each hymn being copied
just prior to its appointed feast, then rehearsed and subsequently per-
formed on that feast.
25 Boetticher, Lasso, p. 645, proposed approximate dates for the undated hymns;
these hymns will be examined in detail below.
26 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.
27 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.
53
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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.
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
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.
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.
55
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Table 3.8 Temporal hymns for Epiphany and Lent in Mus. Ms. 55
Scribal date Feast Hymn
4 Jan. 1581 Epiphany (weekdays) O lux beata Trinitas
7 Jan. 1581 Epiphany (Sundays) Lucis creator optime
[Lacking] Lent (weekdays) Audi benigne conditor
[Lacking] Lent (Sundays) Ad preces nostras
10 Mar. 1581 Passion/Palm Sundays Vexilla regis prodeunt
29 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.
30 On the importance of the Corpus Christi feast in Bavaria see Soergel, Wondrous
in His Saints, pp. 80–90.
56
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
dates than those proposed by Boetticher. For two of these hymns, “Petrus
beatus catenarum” (St. Peter’s Chains) and “Quicumque Christum quaer-
itis” (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 consider-
ably 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 suc-
cessively 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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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 manu-
script, it would be difficult to justify a fall 1581 date for “Tristes erant apos-
toli,” 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 sug-
gested 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 See Flori’s table of feasts for April and May in Göllner, SWNR, vol. 18, p. ix.
33 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.
34 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.
58
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 com-
piled 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 indic-
ative of Lasso’s dates of composition. The only tangible chronological evi-
dence 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 com-
posed? The scribal dates and their relation to the liturgical needs of the
church year provide an important clue to the question of date of composi-
tion.
Table 3.10 summarizes the previous discussion by offering a pro-
posed chronology of Flori’s copying of the hymns. The chronology is deter-
mined 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 consis-
tent 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
59
Table 3.10 Proposed scribal chronology of hymns in Mus. Ms. 55
Scribal datea Feast Hymn No. in Mus. Ms. 55
[Oct. 1580] All Saints (1 Nov.) Christe redemptor omnium/Conserva 21
9 Nov. 1580 Common of Confessors (Martin, Bishop and Confessor, Iste confessor 22
11 Nov.)
19 Nov. 1580 Common of Virgins (Catherine, Virgin and Martyr, 25 Nov.) Jesu corona virginum 23
4 Jan. 1581 Saturdays per annum O lux beata Trinitas 28
7 Jan. 1581 Sundays per annum Lucis creator optime 29
25 Jan. 1581 Marian feasts (Purification of the BVM, 2 Feb.) Ave maris stella 10
[Feb. 1581] Lent (weekdays) Audi benigne conditor 11
[Feb. 1581] Lent (Sundays) Ad preces nostras 12
10 Mar. 1581 Passion Sunday Vexilla regis prodeunt 14
30 Mar. 1581 Octave of Easter Ad coenam agni providi 15
12 Apr. 1581 Common of Apostles (St. Mark, Apostle and Evangelist, 25 Apr.) Exultet caelum laudibus 29
15 Apr. 1581 Common of One Martyr (St. George, Martyr, 23 Apr.) Deus tuorum militum 30
[Apr. 1581] Common of Apostles in Paschal Time (St. Mark, Apostle and Tristes erant apostoli 26
Evangelist, 25 Apr.)
20 Apr. 1581 Common of One Martyr in Paschal Time (St. George, Martyr, Deus tuorum militum 27
23 Apr.)
[Apr. 1581] Common of Many Martyrs in Paschal Time Rex gloriose martyrum 28
25 Apr. 1581 Ascension Jesu nostra redemptio 16
2 May 1581 Pentecost Veni creator spiritus 17
[May 1581] Corpus Christi Pange lingua gloriosi 18
13 June 1581 St. John Baptist (Nativity of St. John the Baptist, 24 June) Ut queant laxis 19
27 June 1581 Sts. Peter and Paul (29 June) Aurea luce 20
[June 1581] Conversion of St. Paul (Commemoration of St. Paul, 30 June) Doctor egregie Paule 21
18 July 1581 St. Mary Magdalene (22 July) Lauda mater ecclesia 22
[July 1581] St. Peter’s Chains (1 Aug.) Petrus beatus catenarum 23
[July 1581] Transfiguration (6 Aug.) Quicumque Christum quaeritis 24
23 Aug. 1581 Common of Many Martyrs Sanctorum meritis 31
[Aug.–Sept. 1581] St. Michael (29 Sept.) Tibi Christe splendor Patris 25
25 Aug. 1581 Advent Conditor alme siderum 24
[26 Aug. 1581] Christmas Christe redemptor omnium/Ex Patre 25
27 Aug. 1581 Holy Innocents Salvete flores martyrum 26
29 Aug. 1581 Epiphany Hostis Herodes impie 27
Note:
a Proposed date of a hymn not dated by Flori is enclosed in brackets.
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before the feast for which it was appointed. The only exceptions to this pro-
cedure 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 chro-
nology 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 evi-
dence 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
62
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.
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.
37 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.
63
4 The salon as marketplace in the 1550s: patrons
and collectors of Lasso’s secular music
donna g. cardamone 1
1 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.
2 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.”
3 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.
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.
64
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 atten-
tion 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 pat-
terned on Italian models would form in the cosmopolitan merchant colo-
nies.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 enter-
tainments. 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 self-
presenters 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
65
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 perfor-
mances 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 expres-
sive 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 mecha-
8 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.
9 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
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 com-
posed 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 permis-
sion. However, when it is viewed in the context of normative modes of
transmission and textual production in urban salon culture, a richly tex-
tured picture of creative exchange emerges from which Lasso stood indi-
rectly 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 simultane-
ously.”13 Their readers, in turn, understood that they were alluding to, com-
menting upon or reworking other compositions – the same principles of
imitatio often observed by Lasso and his contemporaries when producing
10 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.
11 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.
12 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.
13 Ann Rosalind Jones, The Currency of Eros: Women’s Love Lyric in Europe,
1540–1620 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991), p. 3.
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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 ami-
cable, confirming knowledge of his patron’s habits and taste:
14 For the original dedication, see Suzanne G. Cusick, Valerio Dorico, Music Printer
in Sixteenth-Century Rome (Ann Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1981), p. 186.
15 Under canon law the recipient of ordination had to have a means of support
such as a benefice or private income, and he must have attained the appropriate
age, about seven for first tonsure and minor orders. Denys Hay, The Church in
Italy in the Fifteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977),
p. 51.
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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
16 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.
17 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.
18 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.
19 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, pub-
lished 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 villa-
nella, 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 pre-
paring to perform for an expectant audience. However, in the course of col-
laboration they experience some indecision, which the leader resolves by
pointedly invoking a fatherly figure:
1 Credo che sia meglio ca se risolvemo I think it’s better that we resolve
Farli sentire qualche villanella: To make them hear some villanelle:
Orsù, dicimo questa e ‘no di quella. Come on, let’s recite one of this and
one of that.
2 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.
3 Non dubitate ca ci accordiamo, No doubt we’ll come to an
agreement,
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 1550s
Et saccio ca dirimo la chiù bella: And I know that we’ll recite the
most beautiful one:
Orsù, dicimo questa e ‘no di quella. Come on, let’s recite one of this and
one of that.
4 O che bregogna dir tante parole, Oh, what a shame to utter so many
words,
Ognun canta e dica quale vuole, Let each person sing and recite
what he likes,
Ca d’un patrea tutte son figliole. Because all [villanelle] are
daughters of one father.
a Neapolitan dialect for padre.
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 expend-
able 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 syl-
lables 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 syl-
lables (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 inten-
tional.
1 Voria che tu cantas’ una canzona, I would like you to sing a song,
Quando mi stai sonando la viola, While you are playing the viol for
me,
E che dicessi: fa mi la mi so la. And for you to say: fa mi la mi so la.
2 Voria lo basso far col violone, I would like to make the bass part
with the violone,
Tutto di contraponto alla spagnola, All of counterpoint in the Spanish
style,
E che dicessi: fa mi la mi so la. And for you to say: fa mi la mi so la.
3 Voria toccassi sempre di bordone, I would like you always to finger the
drone,
72
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
·
2 =h
1
˙
C &b 2 w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ..
˙
Vo - - ria che tu can - ta - s'u - na can - zo - na, Quan -
T & b 22 w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ .. ˙
Vo - - ria che tu can - ta - s'u - na can - zo - na, Quan -
& b 22 w ˙ ˙
.. ˙
œ œ ˙
B
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Vo - - ria che tu can - ta - s'u - na can - zo - na, Quan -
œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ
Œ œ
7
œ œ œ œ w
&b œ œ ˙ ˙
do mi stai so - nan - do, quan- do mi stai so - nan - do la vi - o - - -
n
&b œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
do mi stai so - nan - do, quan- do mi stai so - nan - do la vi - - - o -
&b œ œ Œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w
œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ
do mi stai so - nan - do, quan- do mi stai so - nan - do la vi - o - - -
13
˙
&b ˙ .. ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙
la, E che di - ces - si: fa mi la mi so
&b ˙ .. ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
la, E che di - ces - si: fa mi la mi
&b .. ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ
˙ ˙ œ œ ˙
la, E che di - ces - si: fa mi la mi so
18
˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ..
&b œ œ œ ˙ w
la, fa mi la mi so la, fa mi la mi so la.
&b ˙ ˙ Œ ˙ ..
œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ w
so la, fa mi la mi so la, [mi so la].
&b ˙ ..
œ œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙
w
la, fa mi la mi so la, fa mi la mi so la.
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.
4 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.
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 com-
posers 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 The other one is Canzoni alla napolitana de diversi eccellentissimi autori
novamente ristampati, libro primo (RISM 155719). The first edition is lost.
25 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.
26 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
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 associa-
tion 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 par-
ticular, assumed multiple roles. For instance, Bruno was a collector who
27 For the original dedication, see Cusick, Valerio Dorico, p. 183.
28 For the original dedication, see SW, vol. 2, pp. xvii–xviii.
29 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 col-
lected 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 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.
31 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.
76
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
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 col-
lecting music.35 His name surfaces later in notarial records where he is
described as “gallus belgicus”and father of two musical sons, one of consid-
erable 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 cour-
tiers 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 Luca Della Libera, “L’attività musicale nella basilica di S. Lorenzo in Damaso nel
Cinquecento,” Rivista italiana di musicologia, 32 (1997), p. 56.
36 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.
37 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.
38 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 publi-
cation, without risking his own funds, then he sacrificed very little for the
sake of increasing his reputation in Italy. But these are only attractive specu-
lations. 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 protag-
onists are aristocratic lovers lamenting their separation by political exile,
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.
39 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.
40 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 trans-
mission 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 consid-
ered prime transmitters, if not creators, of songs conceived to carry a con-
soling 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 com-
pelling 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 postu-
lates a direct, immediate relationship between “textual signals” and hori-
zons 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
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
From Barrè’s salutation, we can surmise that his patron was an unti-
tled 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 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.
44 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.
45 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 sere-
nade 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 Maria Luisa Capograssi, “Due secoli di successioni feudali registrati nei cedolari
di Terra di Bari,” Rivista del Collegio Araldico, 54 (1956), p. 194.
47 Pompeo Litta, Famiglie celebri italiane, 2nd series (Naples: Richter, 1911), s.v.
“Toraldo di Napoli,” plate 3.
48 Biblioteca Vaticana, Cod. Urb. Lat. 1038, fol. 76v (Avvisi di Roma, 13 July 1555).
49 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.
50 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
1
2 j
&4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
C
Ti- che to- che, ti - che toch, ti- che to- che, ti - che toch, ti - che toch. O Pa - ta - le - na zo- ia
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
T V 24 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œJ œ œ
Ti- che to- che, ti - che toch, ti- che to- che, ti - che toch, ti - che toch.
œ œ
O Pa - ta - le - na zo- ia
B
? 24 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
œ œ œ œ ‰ œJ œ œ œ œ
Ti- che to- che, ti - che toch, ti- che to- che, ti - che toch, ti - che toch. O Pa - ta - le - na zo- ia
& œ œ. j ‰ œ j
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
mi - a, A - pri por - ta Car - ciof - fa - la tu - a. A - pri pres - sa, cu -
œ. b
V
œ #œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ
J
mi - a,
œ.
A - pri por - ta Car - ciof - fa - la
bœ
tu - a.
œ
A -
œ bpres
pri - sa, cu -
?œ œ
œ
J œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ J œ œ œ
mi - a, A - pri por - ta Car - ciof - fa - la tu - a. A - pri pres - sa, cu -
15 h = hk hk = h h = h.
3 2 ˙ 3
&œ œ œ ˙ 4 ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ 4 ˙ 4
- la mi - a, Se voi sen - ta mau - ti - na - ta.
œ #œ ˙ 3 ˙ ˙ ˙ œ 2 ˙ ˙ 3
Vœœ J 4 œ œ 4 4
- la mi - a, Se voi sen - ta mau -
œti -
˙
na - ta.
? œ bœ œ ˙ 34 ˙ œ b˙ œ b˙ 24 ˙ 34
- la mi - a, Se voi sen - ta mau - ti - na - ta.
22 hk = h
3 2 ˙ œ
&4 ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ 4 ˙ œ œ œ œ
Gen - te ni - gra bo can - ta - ta: La sol fa re mi,
3 ˙ ˙ œ 2 ˙ ˙ œ œ
V4 ˙ œ œ 4 Œ œ œ
œ
2 ˙
Gen - te ni - gra bo can - ta - ta: La sol fa re
?3 ˙ œ b˙ œ b˙ ˙ œ
4 4 ∑ Œ
Gen - te ni - gra bo can - ta - ta: 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 œ œ œ œ œ
Œ œ œ œ œ œ ∑ Œ ‰ j
[la sol fa re mi,] la sol fa re mi,
œ
Ut
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
V œ Œ Œ ∑
mi, [la sol fa re mi,] la sol fa re mi,
? œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ
Œ ∑
sol fa re mi, la sol fa re mi, la, Ut re mi
36
& ‰ j ‰ j
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œœ œ
re mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa sol
j œ œ ‰ œj œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ
V‰ œ œ œ œ J œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ mi
Ut re mi fa sol la, ut re fa sol la, sol la mi
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
? ‰ J œ
fa sol la, ut re mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa sol ut sol
3
h3= h k
‰ œj
43
&œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4Œ Œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ
la. Ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che, ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che. Se tu voi
Vœ ‰ Jœ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ 34 Œ Œ œ ˙ œ
?œ
fa.
œ ma-
Ni
œ chi-
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
da gi - na - ca- che, ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che.
3Œ Œ œ
Se tu
˙
voi
œ
‰ J œ œ 4
ut. Ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che, ni ma- chi- da gi - na - ca- che. Se tu voi
c
50 hk = h
2 j ‰ œ j
&˙ œ 4 ˙ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
be - n'a me, Cac - cia ca- p'a 'sa per - tu - sa, Sen - ti bel- la can- ta -
V˙ œ 2 ˙
4
œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰
œ œ œ œ œ œ
J J
be - n'a me,
œ.
Cac - cia
œ œ œ œ œ œ
ca- p'a 'sa per
- tu - sa,
œ
Sen - ti
œ
bel- la can- ta -
œ œ œ œ
?˙ œ 2 ˙ J œ ‰ J
4
be - n'a me, Cac - cia ca- p'a 'sa per - tu - sa, Sen - ti bel- la can- ta -
84
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
57
&œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
ra - ta: Ut re mi fa sol la, Mi fa sol la re
œ œ
Vœ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ œ œ œ œ œ
ra - ta: Ut re mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa sol
?œ œ œ Œ ∑ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
ra - ta: Mi fa ut re mi fa sol
64
j
& ˙ ∑ ‰ œ œ œ œ ‰ œj œ Œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
mi. U - na, doi, e tre, La, la sol la, Fa, fa mi re,
œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ
V ˙ ∑ œ œ œ œ œ Œ
la. U - na, doi, e tre, Fa, fa
œ
mi fa, sol, sol fa sol,
? ˙ ∑ œ œ œ
œ
œ ‰ œJ œ œ ‰œ œ œ œ Œ
J
ut. U - na, doi, e tre, Fa, fa sol fa, re, re la re,
71
& œ œ œ ˙
˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Ut re mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa sol la.
œ œ
V ∑ ∑ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Ut
œ
re
œ œ
mi
œ
fa sol la, ut
œ
re mi fa sol
œ
? ∑ Œ œ œ œ œ
Ut re mi fa sol la, ut re mi fa.
3
j h = hk
j ‰ œj œ ‰ œj œ 3 œ . œj œ
78
&‰ œ œ œ œ ‰œ œ œ ˙ 4
Ca- lia, ca - lia tau - za ci - lum ce - lum- di - ni. Par - mi- ni,
œ ‰ Jœ œ œ œ œ
‰ J
œ œ
J œ œ. œ
J ˙ 3 œ . Jœ œ
V J 4
la.
œ œ
Ca - lia
œ
tau - za ci -
œ lum œ
ce - lum -
˙
di - ni. Par - mi- ni,
?Œ ‰ J œ ‰ Jœ ‰ J œ. œ
J
3 œ. œ œ
4 J
Ca - lia tau - za ci - lum ce - lum - di - ni. Par - mi- ni,
85
d o n na g . c a r da m o n e
c 4
85
j h k =2 h j j j
& œ. œ œ 4 œ. œ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
par - mi- ni zor - fa - na - ta, Cia mu - sa - ta, lic - ca pi - gna - ta,
œ. œ œ 2 œ. œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ
V J 4 J ∑ ∑ ‰ œ œ
J
par - mi- ni zor
. -
œ
fa - na - ta, lic - ca pi - gna - ta,
? œ. œ œ 2 œ J œ œ ∑ ∑ ‰ Jœ œ œ
œ œ
J 4
par - mi- ni zor - fa - na - ta, lic - ca pi - gna - ta,
92
j j
&‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰œ œ œ œ œ ∑ Œ
œ œ
œ œ œ
Cu- la paz - zu - ta,
œ œ œ œ
mu- sa cac - ca - ta: Ut re mi fa sol
V ∑ ∑ ‰œ œ ∑ ∑ Œ œ œ œ
J
mu- sa cac - ca - ta:
œ œ œ œ œ œ
Ut re
œ mi
? ∑ ∑ ‰ œJ œ œ ˙ œ
mu- sa cac - ca - ta: Ut re mi fa sol la, ut
100
U
&œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ j œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
la, ut re mi fa sol la, ut re
œ œ œ œ
mi fa sol la,
œ œ
ut re mi
œ. œ œ
fa sol
U
la.
Vœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ J œ ˙
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).
86
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
87
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 villa-
nelle, 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 com-
poser 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 circu-
lated in Rome where he probably fled for fear of being found guilty by asso-
ciation 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 poet-
composers practiced in intertextual allusion and citation. Indeed, attribut-
ing 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 improvisa-
tions 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 napoli-
52 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 Pro-
French Factions in Rome,” pp. 38–41.
53 “O Lucia miau miau” is attributed to Lasso in Il terzo libro delle villotte alla
napoletana (Venice: Gardano, RISM 156014), p. 42.
88
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 clergy-
man’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.
89
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.
90
5 Lasso’s “Standomi un giorno” and the canzone in
the mid-sixteenth century
mary s. lewis
91
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 pub-
lications 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 dol-
c’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; conversa-
tion centers around some mistakes in the music.5 The singer who intro-
duces 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 com-
poser’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 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.]
4 For complete contents and further information on these prints, see Buja,
“Antonio Barrè,” pp. 202–9.
5 Antonfrancesco Doni, Dialogo della Musica, ed. Virginia Fagotto (Venice:
Fondazione Giorgio Cini, 1965), pp. 130–63.
6 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).
92
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 butSamuelPoguehasgivenconvincingbibliograph-
ical 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, pub-
lished 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 collec-
tion,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 practition-
ers 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 acad-
emies 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 multi-
stanza texts these composers set, they were joined by the poetry of Ariosto,
Sannazaro, Bembo, Tansillo, Cassola,Affani,Bellano, and Boccaccio.13
93
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 asso-
ciated 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 listen-
ers 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 sequen-
tial, 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 automati-
cally 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 despair-
ing 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
University Press, 1976), p. 26. 15 Ibid., p. 27. 16 Ibid., p. 32.
95
ma ry s . le w i s
1(4) una fera m’apparve de man destra, At my right hand appeared a
creature wild,
1(5) con fronte humana, da far arder Giove, With human features that could
Jove inflame;
1(6) cacciata da duo veltri, un nero, un Two hounds pursued her – one was
biancho; black, one white;
1(7) che l’un et l’altro fiancho They tore first one flank, then
1(8) de la fera gentil mordean sí forte, The other ravened till, in a short
time,
1(9) che ’n poco tempo la menaro al passo They brought that gentle beast to
such a pass
(10) ove, chiusa in un sasso, That there, enclosed with stone,
(11) vinse molta bellezza acerba morte: Was beauty great by bitter death
laid low,
(12) 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, Then on the high seas I beheld a
ship
1(2) con le sarte di seta, et d’òr la vela, With silken rigging and a sail of
gold,
1(3) tutta d’avorio e d’ebeno contesta; All framed of ivory and ebony;
1(4) e ’l mar tranquillo, et l’aura era soave, The sea was tranquil, and the breeze
was soft,
1(5) e ’l ciel qual è se nulla nube il vela, As when heaven glows, veiled not by
any cloud;
1(6) ella carca di ricca merce honesta: Freighted she was with rich and
virtuous goods;
1(7) poi repente tempesta A sudden eastern storm
1(8) oriental turbò sí l’aere et l’onde, Then cast into great tumult wind
and waves,
1(9) che la nave percosse ad uno scoglio. And so the vessel splintered on a
reef.
(10) O che grave cordoglio! Oh, insupportable woe!
(11) Breve ora oppresse, et poco spatio Brief hour o’erwhelmed and little
asconde, space concealed
(12) 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 In a new-planted grove, a laurel
bloomed
1(2) fiorian d’un lauro giovenetto et With hallowed limbs so young and
schietto, pure, it seemed
1(3) ch’un delli arbor’ parea di paradiso; A tree of those that grow in
Paradise;
1(4) et di sua ombra uscian sí dolci canti And from its shade there issued
such sweet songs
1(5) di vari augelli, et tant’altro diletto, Of divers birds, and other great
delight,
1(6) che dal mondo m’avean tutto diviso; That I was carried wholly from the
world.
1(7) et mirandol io fiso, While, marveling, I stared,
1(8) cangiossi ’l cielo intorno, et tinto in The sky above was altered –
vista, overcast;
1(9) folgorando ’l percosse et da radice Flashing, it struck and by the roots
at once
(10) quella pianta felice Tore up that happy plant,
(11) súbito svelse: onde mia vita è trista, And ever since, my life’s been full of
woe,
(12) 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 In that same wood a crystal
bosco fountain flowed
1(2) sorgea d’un sasso, et acque fresche et Out of a stone, and waters cool and
dolci sweet
1(3) spargea, soavemente mormorando; Came gushing, murmuring
delightfully;
1(4) al bel seggio, riposto, ombroso et To that fair seat, hidden, shaded,
fosco, and dark,
1(5) né pastori appressavan né bifolci, No country folk nor shepherds
ventured near,
1(6) ma nimphe et muse a quel tenor But nymphs and muses singing
cantando: harmony;
1(7) ivi m’assisi; et quando There I sat down; as I
1(8) piú dolcezza prendea di tal concento Most sweetness took from such a
melody –
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ma ry s . le w i s
1(9) et di tal vista, aprir vidi uno speco, And from such a view – I saw a
chasm yawn
(10) et portarsene seco And borne away within
(11) la fonte e ’l loco: ond’anchor doglia The fountain and the place: still I
sento, feel pain;
(12) et sol de la memoria mi sgomento. By that mere memory am I
dismayed.
Stanza 5
1(1) Una strania fenice, ambe due l’ale Observing a rare phoenix in the
woods
1(2) di porpora vestita, e ’l capo d’oro, Alone and proud, with both her
wings attired
1(3) vedendo per la selva altera et sola, In purple, and in gold her head, I
thought
1(4) veder forma celeste ed immortale At first to view her heavenly,
deathless form
1(5) prima pensai, fin ch’a lo svelto alloro Till she to that uprooted laurel
came
1(6) giunse, ed al fonte che la terra invola: And to that fountain swallowed by
the earth:
1(7) ogni cosa al fin vola; All, in the end, takes flight.
1(8) ché, mirando le frondi a terra sparse, For, seeing scattered leaves upon the
ground,
1(9) e ’l troncon rotto, et quel vivo humor The broken trunk, that living liquid
secco, dry,
(10) volse in se stessa il becco, Upon herself her beak
(11) quasi sdegnando, e ’n un punto She turned as in disdain, and
disparse: vanished all
(12) 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
1(5) ed avea indosso sí candida gonna, And she was wearing such a flawless
gown,
1(6) sí texta, ch’oro et neve parea inseme; Woven to seem of gold and snow at
once,
1(7) ma le parti supreme But yet her crowning parts
1(8) eran avolte d’una nebbia oscura: Were all enfolded in a mist obscure;
1(9) punta poi nel tallon d’un picciol Then a small serpent pricked her
angue, heel, and as
(10) come fior colto langue, A gathered flower wilts,
(11) lieta si dipartio, nonché secura. She passed not only certain, but in
joy.
(12) Ahi, nulla, altro che pianto, al mondo Woe! Nothing, save for tears, in this
dura! world lasts.
Commiato
(I) Canzon, tu puoi ben dire: Song, you may surely say:
(II) – Queste sei visioni al signor mio All these six visions of my master
(III) àn fatto un dolce di morir desio. – 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 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.
18 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 orna-
mented 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 cross-
relations, colorful harmonies and harmonic juxtapositions, short melis-
mas 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 imita-
tion occurs in connection with text expression, and consists of short frag-
ments 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 w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ #˙ ˙ ˙
ce'ho - ne - - - sta, El - la car - ca di
∑ ˙. œ ˙ w
&
w
w ˙ w ˙ ˙
ne - sta, El - la car - ca di ric - ca mer -
˙ ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
V ˙ ˙ w
mer- ce'ho - ne - sta, El - la car - ca di ric - ca mer - ce'ho - ne -
˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙
V ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ Ó ˙ #˙ ˙
ca di ric - - - ca mer - - - ce'ho - ne - sta, di ric - ca
? ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
˙ w
- sta, El - la car - ca di ric - ca mer- ce'ho - ne - sta.
48
4
&2 Œ ˙ œ ˙ Œ œ œ œ ˙ ∑ „
so - spi - rar, so - spi - rar,
4
& 2 #œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w ˙
fe so - spi - rar, e mi fe so - spi - rar sua du - ra
4 ˙ œ
V2 Œ ˙ Œ œ œ œ ˙ Œ ˙ #œ a˙ Ó ∑
so - spi - rar, so - spi - rar, so - spi - rar,
V 24 ˙ Œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙
fe so - spi - rar, so - spi - rar sua du - ra
? 24 ˙ ˙ Œ ˙ œ Œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ w ˙
˙
mi fe so - spi - rar, so - spi - rar sua du - ra
of the poem’s contents and structure. At the end of the sixth line, the mid-
point 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 indi-
vidual movement. The first, second, and last strophes turn to the final of the
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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 recom-
mended 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 situ-
ation 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 expres-
sive 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 tradition-
ally strong canto–tenore pair. Thus, stanza 1 cadences on E, but in the alto
and quinto (tenor 2), and stanza 2 employs the canto and quinto for its final
E cadence. The third stanza has the strongest final cadence up to that point,
employing the canto and tenore with bass support, but on the repercussion
A rather than on E. In stanza 4, Lasso brings the canto and quinto to a
cadential octave on B, but with e in the basso (reached by an upward fifth
from A to e). Stanza 5 closes with the tenore and basso sounding an A-phry-
gian cadence, though a cadence on E between alto and basso is heard two
measures earlier (mm. 258–9). Finally, the last movement cadences on E in
m. 342 in the alto and tenore, and closes on a weak E cadence in m. 344.
20 For affective use of the A-mi cadence see Bernhard Meier, The Modes of Classical
Vocal Polyphony Described According to the Sources, trans. Ellen S. Beebe (New
York: Broude, 1988), pp. 259–79. In the following discussion capital letters
usually refer to a pitch class in general, while lower case letters (e, e⬘) refer to
specific octaves.
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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
Viewing the structure of the poem, the first two stanzas appear to
belong together, portraying the visions seen from the poet’s window. The
next three stanzas depict visions of a laurel tree, a fountain, and a phoenix in
a magical grove, while the sixth stanza focuses away from the grove toward
the “lady . . . so graceful, fair” who is now revealed as the true object of the
entire poem. Lasso’s tonal plan would seem to fit with such a reading, with
the stanzas that close more or less firmly on E belonging to the opening pair
of visions and to the last one, though the last cadence is weakened some-
what, perhaps in response to the poet’s unfulfilled longing for death. The
three stanzas describing visions seen in the grove then have finals on A, B/E,
and A-mi.
Most of the cadences in this canzone, both final and internal, fall on
pitches recommended as cadential points within the mode by one theorist
or another, although the theorists are far from unanimous as to what those
pitches should be. Zarlino recommends e, g, and b. Pontio calls for primary
cadences on e and a, with g and b per transito, and c⬘ come propera. Dressler
lists e, b, and c⬘ as primary cadence points, and g and a as secondary. Both
Lusitano and Montanus name e and c⬘, with Montanus adding a.21 No theo-
rist cites d⬘ as a cadential pitch for mode 3, and we shall see that Lasso fre-
quently cadences on that pitch at moments of affective significance. Only
Aaron lists D as a regular cadential pitch for mode 4, and then only d, not d⬘.
Most cadences, then, fall on modally “acceptable” pitches – E, A, G,
and C – with moves to D and A-mi reserved for such affectively significant
words as “asconde,”“trista,”“treme,” and “oscura.” Such usage has a cumu-
lative effect throughout the piece, as irregular cadences repeatedly under-
score words of deep emotional significance against a background of modal
unity emphasized by the tensions of the final cadential pitches of the
stanzas. Thus, the young Lasso worked within a structural-affective pitch
hierarchy that skilfully blends the familiar traditions of modal pitch
significance with madrigalian text expression. In the following section, I
will present a more detailed discussion of some of the strategies Lasso used
in setting Petrarch’s canzone.
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ma ry s . le w i s
Stanza 1
Table 5.1 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 1
Line Measure Voices Pitch Comments
21 23 AQ E
2 27 CT D! “fenestra/giorno”
11 TQ A
22 15 AQ D! “nove”
23 18(–20) AT C
24 24 TQ C
26 AB A/D! “humana”
25 28 CA A
26 31 AQ C
27 33 AB E
28 37 AB G
29 39 CT A
10 42 TB G
11 46–7 CQ G/C
12 51 AB E
55 AQ E/A, then E
The stage is set – with the poet standing alone at a window – for the appear-
ance of strange and new things. The first vision: an animal (a deer) with a
beautiful human face appears, pursued by two hounds, one black and one
white, who trap it in a rocky pass and kill it. The poet sighs at the animal’s
harsh fate.
The E-mode tonality is established in the quinto and then the alto and
canto, through the statement of a rising line starting with an e–a leap which
then works its way upward with successive pitch goals of b, c⬘, and d⬘ (mm.
3–6), thus outlining the upper range of the authentic mode.
As we can see from Table 5.1, Lasso cadences primarily on A (five
cadences) and C (four). Four cadences, including the first and last, fall on E,
and there are three on D and G. The D cadences are reserved for special
moments. The first occurs in mm. 6–7 on the words “giorno”and “fenestra,”
as Lasso repeats the opening motive a fourth higher. This early move into
modally foreign territory ushers the listener into the visionary world seen
from the window.22
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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
The role of the D cadence in pointing to that visionary world is reiter-
ated in m. 15 in the quinto and basso on the word “nove” (novel). Finally, at
one of the more dramatic moments in the stanza (m. 26), as it is revealed
that the beast has a human face, on the word “humana” an expected A
cadence is diverted to one on D by way of an E major to D major chord pro-
gression. Throughout the work, Lasso uses such motion of major triads a
whole step apart to underscore important moments.
If we consider the strongest cadences in the stanza, most of which are
at the ends of lines, we find the following series: D–A C–C–A–C G–A–G–E.
The D–A section corresponds to the opening phrases of the text, those that
set the scene. The section emphasizing C and A corresponds to the descrip-
tion of the beast,while the G–A–G–E section describes the beast’s death and
poet’s sorrow.
The passage from the world of reality to that of visions takes place by
way of a modally unsettling passage that moves through a downward circle
of fifths as the viewer’s gaze moves through the window to see so many
strange things. The passage begins in m. 11 with a cadence on A. By m. 15
the cadence on D discussed above has been reached; it is followed in the
next measure by one on G. Then, in m. 18 the alto, tenore, and basso have a
transitory cadence on C that is followed by a plagal one (mm. 19–20) also
on C. In that cadence, all five voices come together on long notes on the
word “stancho,” ending together at the close of the third line. By this time,
all sense of E-mode has been erased, and the music works in an area closer
to A and C until it cadences on G at the close of line 8 in m. 37. Beginning in
m. 37, the trapping and death of the beast are described, as the music
moves through a series of cadences on G, A, G, A, and finally, when the
speaker expresses his sorrow, back to a final cadence on E with a cadential
coda.
The final cadence is a phrygian one on E in the alto and quinto (m.
55), but sounded within an A minor triad. The harmonic language gradu-
ally settles towards a clearer statement of E in the coda, but without another
strong cadence. Thus, the hearer is left with a sense of anticipation rather
than one of closure.
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ma ry s . le w i s
Stanza 2
Table 5.2 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 2
Line Measure Voices Pitch Comments
21 261 CA A
263 QB E
22 267 CQ A
23 271 TQ C
24 273 AB G interrupted
276 TQ D/G
25 279 AQ A
26 280 SQ A
285 ST A
287 SQ A-mi! “honesta”
288 ST G
27–8 291 AQ E/A
29 294 TB G
10 297 QB A/E
11 299 AT D! “asconde”
12 107 SQ A
109 SQ E with coda
The second strophe of the poem describes a vision of a boat with golden
sails that is shattered against the rocks in a sudden storm. The opening
point of imitation includes a strikingly affective upward leap of a sixth in all
voices on the word “alto.” Lasso points immediately here to the focus on A
that is one of the marks of the pitch structure of this stanza.An A cadence in
m. 61 is balanced two measures later, however, with one on E in the quinto
and basso. This second cadence lacks both the suspension treatment and
the lower-voice support of the first.
At the end of line 2 (mm. 66–7) Lasso introduces another strong
cadence on A, on the word “vela.” As the poet marvels in line 3 at the ivory
and ebony decorations on the boat, Lasso moves further afield to an equally
strong cadence on C on the word “contesta,” ending the first part of the
fronte there.
Lasso cuts the fourth line in half (“E ’l mar tranquillo”) with a grand
pause after the word “tranquillo” and a cadence on D that can also be inter-
preted as an interrupted cadence on G. The effect undermines the sense of
106
l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone
tranquillity that has just been introduced by the long notes on “tranquillo.”
Tension is continued as line 4 ends without a real cadence. The succeeding
line, which states a new thought – “Freighted she was with rich and virtuous
goods” – is heard not once but twice. Only the second statement, however,
closes with a cadence, in this case a phrygian cadence on A that hints of the
drama soon to come.
The description of the tempest in lines 7 and 8 is recitational yet poly-
phonic in style, set syllabically with frequent repeated notes. The effect is
one of straightforward narrative, almost devoid of emotion, its only
affective characteristic being the quickening of note values and the cross-
relations (F–F and C–C ) on “percosse ad uno” (m. 93).
Line 10, however, brings a dramatic change. Lasso sets the words “Oh,
insupportable woe”to a descending series of long notes, starkly contrasting
in mood and rhythmic motion to the description of the storm that came
before. The phrase ends with a double cadence, first to A and then plagally
to E (mm. 94–7), thus extending the A–E tension of the strophe.
The narrative style returns briefly for line 11 as do several cross-
relations and unusual pitch juxtapositions – F–F , C–C , C –B (mm.
98–9), as the phrase ends on a D cadence on “asconde.” This is the only
cadence in the second half of the strophe with both lower-voice support
and suspension treatment, and its emphasis underscores the poet’s horror
at the destruction of a thing of such beauty.
The final line of the stanza completes the thought begun in line 11,
but Lasso sets it at the start with the descending tetrachord of grief (mm.
98–102), which is echoed in various permutations in the other voices, until
the superius closes with an octave descent in long notes to the E final (mm.
105–9), with a phrygian cadence in mm. 108–9 and a brief coda in which the
other voices finish out their descents.
Tonally, this stanza, like the first, seems to correspond to the two
halves of the strophe. The principal cadences in the first half emphasize A
and are on A–E–A–C–A–A–A-mi, while those in the second half are on
G–E–G–E–D–A–E. The second half, besides introducing cadences on G
and D, also places more emphasis on the final, E. However, the A–E dichot-
omy that forms a structural device in the entire work and that mirrors the
paradoxes of the poem itself has been skilfully introduced here.
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m a ry s . le w i s
Stanza 3
Table 5.3 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 3
Line Measure Voices Pitch Comments
21 114 AQ G
22 117 CQ A
23 123 QB G
24 127 ST B/E
25 131 AB D! “vari’uccelli”
135 CQ A
26 138 TB C
27 141 AQ G
28 144 CB G (no leading tone)
29 146 CQ A-mi/D! then to A, “radice”
10 146 AT D! “radice quella”; enjambment
10 149 TQ E “felice”
11 151 AB A-mi! then to E in m. 152; “trista”
12 154 CA G
156 TQ C
158 CQ B/E
161 ST A
In the third stanza, Petrarch moves in his visions from the elevated location
of his window, looking out over the sea and the hunt, to a woodsy setting.
There he sees a laurel tree “of those that grow in Paradise,” and whose
unhappy end is the result of a lightning bolt and storm. Lasso begins the
strophe in narrative style with the first really strong cadence at the end of
line 2, on A (m. 117).
The style has by now become more affective as the poet contemplates
the scene before him. The ecstatic emotion of the lover as he listens to the
songs of the birds inspires the composer to move beyond the mode to a pair
of cadences on D (mm. 128 and 130–1). Thus we see that Lasso uses D
cadences in this work to express both positive and negative strong emo-
tions. Following a strong cadence on A in m. 135, the sixth line describes the
lover’s transport into another world as the music moves to a new cadence
point on C (m. 138), ending the fronte there, as in stanza 1.
At the end of line 9 (mm. 145–6), on the word “radice,” Lasso intro-
duces a phrygian cadence on A, but avoids a cadence at the very end of the
line by using the motion of a D cadence to bridge the two lines between the
108
l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone
words “radice” and “quella” (mm. 146–7). Slightly more definition is given
to the cadence on E at the end of line 10 (mm. 148–9), but such definition
can be seen as appropriate since immediately afterwards four of the voices
declaim the word “subito”together, launching the passage in which the poet
declares that his life is sorrow. On the word “trista” we hear another phry-
gian cadence on A (m. 151), this one ornamented to underscore the word,
which moves immediately to a cadence in all four sounding voices on E to
end the line (m. 152).23 After the words “subito svelse” the canto drops out
(mm. 150–2), leaving the four lower voices to express the observer’s grief.
Lasso repeats the text after a cadence on G (m. 154), closing on a strong,
ornamented cadence on A without a coda. Here, at the poem’s midpoint,
Lasso has avoided the E final altogether.
Stanza 4
Table 5.4 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 4
Line Measure Voices Pitch Comments
21 166 TQ D! “bosco”
22 169 AB E/A
23 172 AQ C
175 SB G
24 178 TB C
25 182 AB G
26 186 TB C
188–9 CQ E/A
28 192 TB C
195 CQ B “concento”
29 199 AT C
10 200 ST E “seco”
11 204 QB A-mi! “sento”
12 208 CQ G/E, then C
216 CQ B/E “sgomento”
23 One could argue that the melodic configuration in m. 151 is not a true cadence,
since it occurs within a word. Nevertheless, the vocal lines move in a strongly
delineated cadential pattern through A-mi on the way to the E cadence in
m. 152.
109
m a ry s . le w i s
Still in the grove where the laurel tree grew, the poet now sees a fountain that
further enhances the beauty of the secluded place. But yet again disaster
strikes, as a chasm opens and swallows up both the fountain and the grove,
restoring the poet’s grief. The setting opens in narrative style. Affective ele-
ments are soon introduced, however, in the form of a C–C cross-relation
between alto and canto in mm. 163–4, and a cadence on D at the end of the
first line, on the word “bosco” – a note of foreboding, perhaps, that yet
another calamity lurks behind this peaceful scene. The D cadence, however,
is immediately supplanted by one on G which bridges the two lines and
their enjambment (mm. 165–6). A cadence on A in m. 167 on “sasso” is fol-
lowed by a drawn-out ornamented double cadence on E and A on the word
“dolci” (mm. 168–70). The second half of this cadence, on A, however, is
also used to bridge the enjambment to the next line (“waters cool and
sweet / Came gushing, murmuring delightfully”). An evaded cadence on C
closes line 3. We see here in the beginning of the strophe a tendency to
deflect importance away from cadences on the final, E, and to emphasize A
as well as modally irregular tones. Cadences on C and G in line 4 further
move the tonal palette away from E and into other modal territory.
The sirima begins peacefully enough (“There I sat down; as I / Most
sweetness took from such a melody – / And from such a view”). Lasso sets
these words in a primarily syllabic polyphony, but cadences most unusually
on a B on the word “concento” (mm. 194–5). The quintus and bassus initi-
ate the description (mm. 196–8) of the opening of the chasm (“aprir vidi
uno speco”). The narrative style is then invoked, with syllabic and homo-
phonic declaration, “e portarsene seco” (m. 199). The four declaiming
voices cadence on E almost simultaneously (mm. 199–200), and dramatic
rests in the canto and alto leave the listener balanced, as it were, on the edge
of the chasm, while at the same time the music carries across the enjamb-
ment with the beginning of line 11 to tell us that both “the fountain and the
place” have been carried away. The chilling news is greeted by silence in all
voices in m. 201, before the four lower voices intone, “still I feel pain,”
closing with a long, drawn-out phrygian cadence on A in mm. 203–4 on the
word “sento.” This cadence is the first modally irregular one we have heard
since the D cadence at the beginning of the stanza, unless we count the
cadence on B in m. 195, a pitch that Lasso has so far avoided treating as a
repercussion or even a common cadential pitch.
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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
Lasso ends the strophe ambiguously as canto and quinto form a phry-
gian cadence on B that is supported by an A–E leap of a fifth in the basso
(mm. 215–17). Thus, while the final triad is E major, the canto and quinto
have suggested B as the cadential pitch instead, perhaps recalling the B
cadence on “concento” in m. 195 in the same voices, as the harmony of that
moment has indeed been transformed into fear.
Stanza 5
Table 5.5 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 5
Line Measure Voices Pitch Comments
21 223 AB E
22 227 AQ C
23 231 TB C Cadence formed 6–8/2–1
24 235 CT A
25 238 AT B/E
26 240 CT D!/G
27 243 (C)Q B/E
28 245 ST E/A
29 247 (A)Q G
10 249 CA D! “becco”
11 251 ST G
12 256 AT C
258 AQ A-mi! (through ficta)/D!
261 TB A-mi! “d’amor m’arse”
The next vision is of a phoenix who vanishes after viewing the destruction
of the laurel and the fountain. The imitative and affective opening makes
use of wide leaps to introduce us to the appearance of the phoenix. In line 3,
at the words “vedendo per la selva,” Lasso introduces a chromatic passage –
undoubtedly inspired by Petrarch’s choice of “selva”now instead of “bosco”
– in which we find an E major and D major triad juxtaposed (m. 228), fol-
lowed by a B in the tenore, a C in the quinto, and an F in the canto (mm.
228–9).
In line 9, the canto’s statement of “rotto” is emphasized by an F–F
cross-relation between the canto and alto. Only the three upper voices sing
the text of line 10 – “upon herself her beak she turned.” In this short phrase
(less than two measures) Lasso varies the rhythmic motion, and introduces
111
ma ry s . le w i s
within a few beats of each other the chromatic tones B , C , and F (mm.
248–9). Perhaps we could read such a passage as an example of the mode,
like the phoenix, turning against itself.
A startling contrast ensues between the patter-like minims of line 11,
which illustrate the speed with which the phoenix vanished, and the slow,
descending opening of line 12. The final line of the stanza is first intoned in
long notes in the four upper voices (“onde ‘l cor”); that brief phrase is set
apart by a cadence on G in m. 253 before the gradually intensifying setting
of the rest of the line – “di pietate et d’amor m’arse.”Lasso repeats the words
of the last line, leading up to a cadence on A which is followed by a coda that
ends with a pathetic cadence on A-mi.
Stanza 6
Table 5.6 Cadences in “Standomi un giorno,” Stanza 6
Line Measure Voices Pitch Comments
1 268 CQ A
2 274 QB G
3 276 AQ E
277 TB A-mi! “treme”
4 283 AT G
5–6 292 CT A
7 294 CT G
8 297 CA D! “oscura”
9 301 AQ G
10–11 309 CQ G
12 315 TB A-mi! “dura”
321 CA A
322 AT D! “dura”
I 324 AB G
326 CB A-mi! “dire”
II 331 QB C
III 334 CA D! “desio”
338 AQ C
342 AT E/A, then E
112
l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone
Eurydice, this beautiful lady is taken from life by the bite of a snake, and
follows the deer, the ship, the laurel tree, the fountain, and the phoenix into
oblivion, leaving the poet with “nothing, save for tears.” In the commiato,
Petrarch addresses the poem itself, stating that the six visions have made
him also wish for death.
Lasso’s setting begins solemnly, and with a cross-relation G–G
between basso and canto on “fin.” In line 2 – “[I saw] a pensive lady go, so
graceful, fair” – we hear first a D major to C major triad juxtaposition and
then a brief melisma, both pointing up the words “leggiadra et bella.”
There is no overlap with the beginning of line 3 – “That just to think of
her I burn and quake.” The note values gradually increase to mirror the
trembling of the text as “ch’i’ non arda et treme” is repeated, with a biting
C–C cross-relation and C –B juxtaposition in m. 277. The line closes on
an A-phrygian cadence, stressing the emotional intensity of the moment.
The first brief phrase of line 4 ends with a cadence on E, the second with a
phrygian cadence on A, at the repeat of the text “humile in sé,” while the
fronte ends with a clear cadence on A (m. 292).
The short span of line 8 is marked first by a C–C cross-relation in
m. 292, and a more agitated, scattered dotted-rhythm texture as the five
voices all intone the changing mood at different times. Line 8 completes the
ominous thought begun in line 7 – “But yet her crowning parts / Were all
enfolded in a mist obscure.”Lasso continues through this line (mm. 293–7)
in a markedly affective style; upward leaps are followed by long descents,
and the phrase closes with a modally irregular cadence on D on the word
“oscura.”
At the beginning of line 12, first the upper four voices, and then all
five, join in a deeply affective statement – “Woe! Nothing, save for tears, in
this world lasts.” The use of irregular cadences now increases. The passage
begins with a homophonic exclamation of “Ahi” on an F major chord, in
startling juxtaposition to the G major chord that ended the previous
phrase. The music continues to a B chord – B having been heard through-
out the piece in phrygian relationship to A – and the phrase is liberally
sprinkled with B s as it passes through a modally irregular cadence forma-
tion on D in m. 314 on its way to a phrygian cadence on A. Here, Lasso
brings together, at the emotional climax of the piece, pitches that have
served affective goals all along – the B of the A-mi cadences, an A-mi
113
m a ry s . le w i s
cadence itself, the C so often used in cross-relations, and a hint at a modally
irregular D cadence. The text is repeated, with greater intensity, as the music
moves toward the sharp side, introducing a G in the canto’s slow descend-
ing line (m. 316). Here Lasso turns to the language of the madrigal lament,
with outcries, chromaticism, octave leaps (tenor m. 315), and thoroughly
polyphonic texture. There are abrupt minim melismas on the words
“mondo”and “dura,”leading to a cadence on A followed by an irregular one
on D which overlaps the beginning of the commiato.
In the commiato, Petrarch addresses his own song. “Song, you may
surely say: / All these six visions of my master have / Produced in him a sweet
desire for death.” Here the poem reaches new pathos. The music, launched
from the irregular D cadence in m. 322, sings the first line twice (mm.
321–7). The first statement closes simply on a G cadence (m. 324); the
second, moving into a higher range and dropping the basso, increases in
intensity and introduces a B in the canto (m. 325) which is repeated in the
quinto as part of the phrygian A cadence in m. 326. That cadence is
extended to an implied D cadence in m. 327, just as the basso rejoins the
other voices at the beginning of the commiato’s second line, the first part of
the quotation. In m. 333 B is heard, but this time the cadence is another
modally irregular one on D (m. 334). The full text of the line is sung three
times, with additional repeats of the phrase “di morir desio” to the end of
the piece. B continues to be heard as the canto falls silent in mm.335–7. The
third statement of the line introduces a brief but expressive melisma after
an upward leap in the canto on the word “morir” (m. 339). That melisma is
followed by a weak G cadence (m. 341) and then a stronger one on E that
essentially acts as the final cadence of the work. Three measures of coda
follow, repeating the last phrase and ending on an E major triad (a tradi-
tional two-voice cadence having appeared in m. 342 in the alto and tenore).
Stanza 6 ends in much the same way that stanza 1 did, with a similar har-
monic framework and the same tentative, expectant unwinding in the coda
and with the same G in the superius of the last chord.
To summarize, then, Lasso maintains a consistent tonal plan
throughout the six strophes of the canzone, a tonal plan that unifies the
work both structurally and expressively. Tension between the final, E, and
the secondary cadential pitch A is introduced early in the work and under-
lies the structure. This can be seen in the use of these two pitches for final
114
l as s o ’ s “ sta n d o m i u n g i o r n o ” a n d t h e canzone
cadences in the various strophes, in the scheme E–E–A–B/E–A-mi–E. The
relationship of pitch structure to text is evident in the fact that the first two
stanzas, which end on E, deal with visions from the window, and the next
three, ending on A, B/E, and A-mi, are concerned with events in the grove,
while the last stanza, which ends on E, turns to a vision of Laura. The A–E
tension is intensified by the frequent introduction of phrygian cadences on
A. The importance of the B of the A-mi cadence is stressed by its use at par-
ticularly intense moments, as in its appearance as the root of a triad when
the poet cries out that nothing in the world lasts except our tears (m. 311).
Within the frame of stanzas 1 and 2, and then 6, with their E endings, Lasso
placed two strophes, 3 and 5, with endings on A and A-mi, and between
those, stanza 4 whose ambiguous E–B final cadence reinforces our uncer-
tainty about the actual modal identity of the work – modes 3 or 4.
Throughout the entire work, Lasso makes telling use of cadences
irregular to the mode, especially those on D, of major triads whose roots lie
a whole step apart, and of cross-relations, especially involving C and C , to
underscore semantically significant words and phrases. Thus, these pitch
configurations become encoded in the listener’s ear to correspond to the
dark side of the canzone.
Lasso clearly perceived all six stanzas as being in a mode 3/4 tonal
matrix. Indeed, it is the overall E-mode foundation that permits the play of
irregular pitches against it to make an affective impact. He appears to have
viewed the work as a large unity with six “movements,”bound together now
by modal treatment and expressive devices, rather than by any kind of
melodic or motivic unifying device.
Only further study of the multi-movement madrigal repertory will
reveal whether other composers adopted the same approach. That
endeavor is beyond the scope of this study, which should none the less help
us to understand the compositional solutions adopted by sixteenth-
century composers in writing these large-scale works.
115
6 Lasso’s “Fertur in conviviis”: on the history of
its text and transmission
bernhold schmid
1 Paris: Le Roy and Ballard, RISM 1576i; Bodleian Library, Douce L subt.29.
2 The only known manuscript source (Ulm, Sammlung Schermar, Ms. Mus.
without shelf mark, c. 1590; see Boetticher, Lasso, p. 835) will not be considered.
The composition is printed in SW, vol. 3, p. 99.
3 Regarding the Septiesme livre of 1564, see Henri Vanhulst, Catalogue des éditions
de musique publiées à Louvain par Pierre Phalèse et ses fils 1545–1578 (Brussels:
Académie Royale de Belgique, Classe des beaux-arts, 1990), pp. 114–16. The
Septiesme livre appeared in a large number of editions over a long period of
time (see Henri Vanhulst, “Un succès de l’édition musicale: Le Septiesme livre des
chansons a quatre parties [1560–1661/3],” Revue Belge de Musicologie, 32–3
[1978–9], pp. 97–120), but only the edition of 1564 contains pieces by Lasso.
116
Table 6.1 Sources for the original text of “Fertur in conviviis”
Sigla used in this study RISM sigla and number in the print Brief title
A 1564d, no. 9 Quatriesme livre des chansons, Phalèse (in both reprints,
1567c and 1570g, “Fertur in conviviis” is not included).
B RISM deest, 1564, no. 38 Septiesme livre des chansons, Phalèse (in all later editions
“Fertur in conviviis” is not included).
C1 15658, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, Le Roy & Ballard (“Fertur in
conviviis” is included in all later editions).
C2 15679, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C3 157011, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C4 157311, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C5 157510, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C6 15791, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C7 15843, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C8 15915, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, LR&B
C9 RISM deest, 1599, no. 1 Sesieme livre de chansons, Ballard
D 15698, no. 7 Liber secundus sacrarum cantionum, Phalèse (the only
known edition)
E1 1570d, no. 39 Mellange d’Orlande de Lassus, LR&B
E2 1576i, no. 57 Meslanges d’Orlande de Lassus, LR&B
E3 1586g, no. 50 Meslanges de la musique d’Orlande de Lassus, LR&B
F1 1579b, no. 67 Altera pars selectissimarum cantionum, Gerlach (“Fertur
in conviviis” is not included in the first edition, 1568b)
F2 1587f, no. 67 Altera pars selectiss. cant., Gerlach
bernhold schmid
that an unequivocal distinction of genres is not possible on the basis of the
prints.4 The limited resonance in Phalèse’s output is striking; to be sure, he
published the piece in three different prints, with chansons as well as
motets, but he excluded it from the later editions of his Quatriesme livre and
Septiesme livre, perhaps because he had taken it up in a motet book (D). Le
Roy and Ballard on the other hand printed “Fertur in conviviis” exclusively
in chanson books.
The text follows the version of C1, which is the most widespread, with
orthography normalized.5 In source B, Phalèse’s 1564 Septiesme livre of
chansons, of which only the contratenor survives as a unicum in the
Bibliothèque Royale of Brussels, the text is deleted. However, the upper and
lower extensions of the letters are still visible, so the source can none the less
be considered here. Characteristic variants (see note 6) can thus be seen
that establish this text transmission as identical with that of source A.
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l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
(5) Et plus quam ecclesiam diligam tabernam:
illam nullo tempore sprevi neque spernam,
donec sanctos angelos venientes cernam,
cantantes pro ebriis: “Requiem eternam.”6
In the Oxford partbook a few words are changed, while others are
only deleted and not replaced by another text. The variant “Bacchus” for
“Deus,”known from D and F1/F2, is also found in Oxford; the other Oxford
variants are unique. The version of the text in Le Roy and Ballard, found in
all the sources listed under C and E, is constant. The Phalèse prints, A/B and
D, have characteristic variants, and both versions differ from each other. In
D, the motet print of 1569, in which the title specifically mentions sacrae
cantiones, are found exactly those variants that sharpen the text, “potat-
orum” for “angelorum” (4,3),“Bacchus” for “Deus” (4,4), and “iustos pota-
tores” for “sanctos angelos” (5,3), while the texts as a rule are purified
instead. The agreement of the variants “surdisque” for “et surdis” (2,4) in
A/B, D, and F1/F2, and “Bacchus” for “Deus” in D and F1/F2 is also striking.
This leads to the conclusion that Leonhard Lechner, who saw to the editing
of the 1579 Selectissimae cantiones for Gerlach, drew on source D. However,
Lechner’s version of the text is not identical to that of D, but rather agrees in
some places with the most widely distributed version, that of sources C and
E. He may have known other sources besides D, and perhaps the text was
119
bernhold schmid
already familiar to him as well, so that he was able to make changes to the
version of source D from memory.7
A few quotations contained in the text of the poem should be briefly
mentioned. “Requiem aeternam” needs no explanation; it is the beginning
of the introit of the Mass for the Dead. The source of “Deus sit propitius
huic potatori”in Lasso’s fourth strophe is not so immediately obvious. It is a
parodistic allusion to Luke 18:13, “Deus, propitius esto mihi peccatori”
(God be merciful to me, a sinner).8
A variety of contrafacta of “Fertur in conviviis” are known to have
been made. In the Magnum opus Musicum (RISM 1604a), the collected
edition of Lasso’s motets prepared by his sons, the content of the text was
turned upside down. Somewhat earlier a poem in memory of Clemens non
Papa, “Tristis ut Euridicen,” was underlaid to the music. The sources of the
contrafacta are listed in Table 6.2.
Two versions of the contrafactum “Tristis ut Euridicen” are known.
Source E2 in Table 6.1 has the original text underlaid, but “Tristis ut
Euridicen” appears at the end of the piece as an alternate text with the
inscription “Calliope loquitur. Epitaphium Clementis non Papae.” This is
lacking in E1, E3, and E4, which contain only the original text. In E3 and E4
the index contains an indication of the connection with “Tristis ut
Euridicen,”since the text incipit “Fertur in conviviis”in those two sources is
headed by the senseless inscription “Epitaphium Clementis non Papae.” In
sources H1–3 the poem is underlaid to the music in a slightly different
120
l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
121
bernhold schmid
A comparison with the various versions of the original text shows that
one of the F sources probably served as the source for this version. One indi-
cator is in the fourth line of the second strophe, where “surdisque” (F
among others) becomes “facitque” in the contrafactum, while in other
sources the “-que” is replaced by a preceding “et.” This is made even more
likely by “Bacchus”in line 4, strophe 4, which in sources other than F and the
contrafacta appears as “Deus.” The changes compared to the model are
sometimes very economical. Basically the content is simply changed into its
opposite. This is one of the contrafacta that are found only in MOM and
possibly made specifically for that edition. Besides “Fertur in conviviis,”the
group also includes “Nunc gaudere licet,” “Bestia stultus homo,” and “Jam
lucis orto sidere”; additional pieces could be listed.9
The reproduction of “Tristis ut Euridicen” follows source E2, because
its version of the text is closer to the original in two details than that of
source H. The original poem in strophe 2, verse 2 has “leviter salire,” which
is taken over into strophe 4, verse 4 of E2; H on the other hand has “ludendo
gaudere.”In E2 strophe 5, line 4 begins “cantare pro mortuo,”which is closer
to the original “cantantes pro ebriis” than the “cantare Clemens habet” in
source H.
9 Modern editions of “Nunc gaudere licet” in CM, vol. 6, pp. 87–90 (original text),
and SW, vol. 19, p. 66 (contrafactum); “Bestia stultus homo” in SW, vol. 11, p. 95
(contrafactum), and SWNR, vol. 1, p. 67 (original text, which begins “Bestia
curvafia”); “Jam lucis orto sidere” in CM, vol. 7, and SW, vol. 21, p. 84. In SW,
vol. 21, edited by Adolf Sandberger, the original texts were printed, not the
contrafacta that appear in MOM, contrary to the practice of the other motet
volumes in SW. On “Nunc gaudere licet” see further Bernhold Schmid, “‘Nunc
gaudere licet’ – Zur Geschichte einer Kontrafaktur,” Compositionswissenschaft:
Festschrift für Reinhold und Roswitha Schlötterer, ed. Bernd Edelmann and
Sabine Kurth (Augsburg: Verlag Dr. Bernd Wissner, 1999), pp. 47–56.
122
l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
videte Pierides Phociden colentes,
iam Clementis non Papae eunt celebrantes
(heu) tristes exequias lachrimis madentes.
(4) En Apollo respuit Cirrha personare
et Euterpe calamos flatibus urgere,
Terpsichore citharam digitis movere
et Erato pedibus leviter salire.
(5) Phoebus ipsi dederat Musices coronam,
nec eum Calliope sprevit, neque spernam.
Nunc adeste sedulo musici, fas est nam
cantare pro mortuo “Requiem aeternam.”10
123
bernhold schmid
A (1564) / B (1564)
C1 (1565)
C2 (1567)
D (1569)
C3 (1570) E1 (1570)
C4 (1573)
C5 (1575)
E2 (1576) H1 (1576)
F1 (1579) C6 (1579)
H2 (1582)
C7 (1584)
E3 (1586)
F2 (1587)
C8 (1591)
H3 (1594)
C9 (1599)
G (1604)
E4 (1619)
12 Otto Schumann and Bernhard Bischoff, Carmina Burana, I. Band: Text, 3. Die
Trink- und Spielerlieder. Die geistlichen Dramen, Nachträge (Heidelberg: Carl
Winter – Universitätsverlag, 1970), pp. 19–21 (“Text des jüngeren Trinklieds,
Quellenverzeichnis und Lesarten”). Carmen Buranum 191, the “Confession of
Golias,” is printed ibid., pp. 6–8. The following discussion is based on Bischoff
except where Lasso is the subject. In the presentation of the poem on p. 125
Bischoff’s remarks appear in italics.
124
l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
Vo = Volterra, Biblioteca Guarnacci 8653, 14th century, fols. 13v–14r.
Pa = Rome, Vatican Library, Pal. Lat. 719, 15th century, fol. 24r.
[The first line is given here following the version Lasso set, as shown above;
this corresponds closely to one of the variants Bischoff cites on p. 17.
125
bernhold schmid
Strophes 1 and 4 are taken directly from the “Confession of Golias,”in
which they appear as strophes 12 and 11. The other three strophes are not
found in the Archpoet. Strophes 1, 2, 4, and 5 appear also in Lasso’s text, in
the order 4, 3, 5, and 1. Strophe 3 of the drinking song is absent in Lasso. The
sources Vo and Pa, however, each include a strophe 3a, which is reproduced
from Bischoff, p. 21:
Here we have Lasso’s strophe 2 before us, apart from the first half line and a
few other small variants.
If one proceeds exclusively from Bernhard Bischoff’s edition of the
text of the drinking song, one might reach the conclusion that Lasso’s text
reorders the strophes and makes a few other alterations in the text of an
older poem that existed in a firmly fixed state. This is not correct, for
Bischoff’s edition shows the existence of a highly unstable textual tradition
in this drinking song. This unstable tradition is our starting point, not
a firmly established text. The number and order of strophes are also
unstable.13
When we examine Bischoff’s rather extensive list of variant readings
(pp. 19–20), the instability of our text emerges even more strongly. A few of
the readings he gives may also be found in the Lasso prints: “conviviis”
rather than “convivio” and “clericum” rather than “socios” in Lasso’s
strophe 1 appear also in the above-mentioned source M1. Lasso’s strophe 4
has “et vinum apponere”rather than “ut sint vina proxima,”and Bischoff (p.
17) mentions “Vinum sit appositum” and “vinum est apponere.” In the
same strophe are to be found “sitienti ori” (Lasso) rather than “morientis
ori” and “ut dicant cum venerint” (Lasso) rather than “tunc cantabunt
letius.” It was already mentioned above that “Et plus quam ecclesiam diligo
13 The succession of five strophes given above is found in the source Sl. Source K is
quite similar in its ordering; it has six stanzas: after 1, 2, 3, and 5 above follows
strophe i from Carmen Buranum 219, and strophe 4 from source Sl serves as its
final strophe. Sources Vo and Pa have still other numbers and orders of strophes,
though Vo begins with strophe 1.
126
l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
tabernam” (Lasso, strophe 5) rather than “Tertio capitulo memoro taber-
nam”is to be found among Bischoff’s variant readings.
Lasso’s text and its variants thus fit completely into the picture of the
unstable transmission of the drinking song, with its varying number and
order of strophes and its most diverse textual versions: in it we have one of
the numerous versions within the entire text transmission before us. Since
the sources listed by Bischoff fall in part within the sixteenth century (M1:
1575, K: 1550; the latter stems from Iceland, and the geographic distribu-
tion was also extraordinary), the poem’s further appearance in Lasso’s work
is not surprising. Ludwig van Beethoven also took up our text in his
Ritterballet (WoO1): in the autograph “Mihi est propositum” is written at
the beginning of No. 6, the “Trinklied.” However, it must have been
intended only as a motto or citation, not as a continuously sung text, since
Beethoven’s musical declamation corresponds to only the first three lines of
every half-strophe. Beethoven probably came to know the poem through
his teacher in Bonn, Christof Gottlob Neefe, who produced in 1780 and
1783 two versions of a melody that set a German translation by G.A. Bürger
(1777). The Latin text was sung to the melody of “Gaudeamus igitur,”found
in the collections of student songs (the so-called Kommersbücher, 1788 and
1818).14
With a composer like Lasso, whose strong involvement with the text
was observed and discussed very early,15 it is reasonable to ask how far it is
possible to interchange texts without thereby destroying the relationship of
text and music.16 The contrafactum of “Fertur in conviviis” in MOM turns
the sense of the original text into its opposite. However, grotesque tensions
result in some measure from the moralizing warning against wine; it strug-
14 The information about Beethoven from Kurt E. Schürman, ed., Ludwig van
Beethoven. Alle vertonten und musikalisch bearbeiteten Texte (Münster:
Aschendorff, 1980), pp. 631–2.
15 See for example Joachim Burmeister, Musica poetica (Rostock, 1606), who
analyzed Lasso’s “In me transierunt” in accordance with his theory of musical
figures. See Gottfried Scholz, “Zur rhetorischen Grundlage von Joachim
Burmeisters Lassus-Analyse. Ein Beitrag zur Frühgeschichte der Musikanalytik,”
Zur Geschichte der musikalischen Analyse. Bericht über die Tagung München 1993,
ed. Gernot Gruber (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1996), pp. 25–43.
16 See for example Richard Freedman, “Divin Accords: The Lassus Chansons and
their Protestant Readers of the Late Sixteenth Century,” Orlandus Lassus and his
Time, pp. 273–94.
127
bernhold schmid
gles too much against the original, since it can agree only in part with the
playful character of the composition. To replace the original drinking song
with a serious text, an epitaphium for Clemens non Papa, seems far-
fetched,17 though it can work in specific places. The chant citation of
“Requiem aeternam” in the drinking song has a parodistic character, and
the citation can be taken over into the memorial motet for Clemens without
damage, since it takes on a serious character corresponding to the text,
although Lasso repeatedly introduces chant quoted in a parodistic sense
into less serious compositions.18 The passage in the original, “cantantes
(pro ebriis),”so strongly expressive of the text, is completely unproblematic
in “cantare (pro mortuo)” in the epitaphium, and thus the text expression
in the original continues to be valid. These however are exceptions in our
piece, since its compositional style on the whole cannot serve for a lament-
ing text. Boetticher not unreasonably brings the original into relationship
with “Lucescit jam o socii”and the four-voice villanescas “through strophic
construction, songlike caesuras, and dancelike meter.”19 Songlike caesuras
come about in connection with the extensive declamation of the text in
block chords, dancelike meter through the frequent rhythmic patterns in
three beats. The piece is in tempus imperfectum diminutum, but several
passages in tempus perfectum diminutum are introduced (“loqui facit
clericum,”“Potatores incliti,”“ut gustare noverint bonum haustum vini”).
In addition, the hidden three-beat patterns brought about by syncopations
within the duple meter are striking (see Ex. 6.1). (See also for example
“vinus vina vinum,” mm. 4–6,“et in neutro genere,” mm. 13–15, and “inter
omnia,” mm. 25–6, as well as the subsequent cadence on “vinum pertran-
sire,” mm. 26–8.) Finally, unexpectedly short note values, which are none
the less underlaid with text, leap to the eyes (see Ex. 6.2). All this seems to
17 See also Ludwig Finscher and Annegrit Laubenthal, “‘Cantiones quae vulgo
motectae vocantur.’ Arten der Motette im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert,” in Ludwig
Finscher, ed., Die Musik des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts, Teil 2, Neues Handbuch
der Musikwissenschaft vol. 3,2 (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1990), p. 348.
18 On the citation of the Gregorian “Requiem aeternam” and similar chant
citations see Bernhard Meier, “Melodiezitate in der Musik des 16. Jahrhunderts,”
Tijdschrift van de Vereniging voor Nederlandse Muziekgeschiedenis, 20 (1964–5),
p. 3; he refers to the contrafactum text from MOM found in SW, without noting
that SW, vol. 3, p. viii, prints the original text.
19 Boetticher, Lasso, p. 595 (“Lucescit jam o socii”, SW2, vol. 16, p. 174, and SWNR,
vol. 1, p. 121) and p. 230 (comparison with the villanescas).
128
l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
& 24 ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ bw ˙
in ta - ber - na mo - ri
& 24 ˙ ˙ ˙ bw ˙ w #˙
in ta - ber - na mo - ri
4 ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w ˙
V2
- tum in
˙ ˙
ta - ber
bw
- na mo - ri
?4 ˙ ˙ w ˙
2
- tum in ta - ber - na mo - ri
Example 6.2
˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙
&Ó
et vi - num ap - po - ne - re
&Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙
et
˙
vi
w -
˙
num
˙
ap -
œ œ ˙
po - ne - re
VÓ
et vi
w - num
˙
ap -
œ œ ˙
po - ne - re
?Ó ˙ ˙
et vi - num ap - po - ne - re
have been done so as to make the meter stagger, which corresponds to the
parodistic character of the original text, perhaps even to connect it very
directly with the staggering of a drunken person. In any case it does not
match in the least the character of a lament.
If one considers the text-expressive passages in the original in com-
parison with the epitaphium, the impression is then reinforced that the
lamenting text and the music that was not originally written for it do not
belong together. The succession of semiminims at “leviter salire” in the
original text is clearly to be understood as expressive of the text, while
“artibus laudare” in the epitaphium cannot be connected convincingly
with the semiminims (see Ex. 6.3). On the other hand, when “leviter salire”
appears in the epitaphium (the original had “huic potatori” at that point,
mm. 77–9), longer note values appear. In strophe 4, verse 4 of the original
text “Deus” is emphasized with two breves, which can be understood as a
129
bernhold schmid
œ œ œ œ ˙ w
& ˙
- las le - vi - ter sa - li - re,
- is ar - ti - bus lau - da - re,
& ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ w
- las le - vi - ter sa - li - re,
- is ar - ti - bus
œ œ œ œ ˙
lau - da -
w
re,
V ˙
- las le - vi - ter sa - li - re,
- is
œ œ œ
ar - ti - bus lau - da
œ ˙
-
w
re,
? ˙
- las le - vi - ter sa - li - re,
- is ar - ti - bus lau - da - re,
noëma. When the epitaphium places “Et E(rato)” under these long notes,
they lose their meaning. Finally, the underlay “(heu) tristes exequias lachri-
mis madentes” under a rhythm of long–short–long–short in tempus per-
fectum (originally set to “ut gustare noverint bonum haustum vini”) is
completely inappropriate. In short, the epitaphium must be considered a
failure.
In summary it may be said that the dependence of the various sources
on one another is clarified by the variants in the text. Which sources Lasso’s
sons used for MOM has not yet been explored sufficiently.20 Specific text
variants make it probable, though, that Lechner’s Selectissimae cantiones
(source F) is the basis for “Fertur in conviviis” in MOM. The large number
of previously unknown text variants is itself an indication of the need for
the revision of the motet volumes of the collected edition. The source of
Lasso’s text can be established. Finally, it can be shown once again that in a
contrafactum problems of the relationship between text and music often,
though not inevitably, arise.
*
Let us return to our starting point, the Oxford contratenor partbook of the
Meslanges d’Orlande de Lassus of 1576 (E2). It was remarked at the begin-
ning that in this source changes and cancellations in the text were found not
only in “Fertur in conviviis” but also in other compositions. They can be
mentioned briefly in closing:“Vous qui aymez”(fol. 41v): in the last line “in
20 See Horst Leuchtmann, “Zum Ordnungsprinzip in Lassos Magnum Opus
Musicum,” Musik in Bayern, 40 (1990), pp. 46–72, especially pp. 47–9.
130
l as s o ’ s “ f e rt u r i n c o n v i v i i s ”
nomine Domine” is crossed out. “Deus qui bonum vinum” (fol. 35r): the
first “Deus” is crossed out but still can be read; the second line also begins
with “Deus,” which is crossed out and completely unreadable. “Vinum
bonum et suave” (fol. 84v, Contra; fol. 85r, secundus Bassus): text variants
are introduced at two points:
In the contra the line “Christus vinum semel fecit” is crossed out, and the
cancellation has led to the ink eating away the paper. “Christum” in the
second passage is also crossed out, and here too the paper has deteriorated.
In the bassus the same cancellations and erosion of the paper are found, but
the variants are written above the original text. The meaning of the syllable
“inf ”is unclear; possibly a more extensive emendation of the text following
“Bacchus” was planned but not carried out, which would also apply to the
following verse. It is significant that both times “Christus” was replaced by
“Bacchus,” which leads to the conclusion that in “Deus qui bonum vinum”
the same change would have been undertaken.
When one considers the diverse manuscript alterations in the Oxford
copy of the Meslanges as well as the variants in the original text of “Fertur in
conviviis” listed above in its reprints, it may be seen that all of the changes
that have to do with the subject of drinking lend a more caustic character to
the text. This is unusual and should be especially noted at the end of this
study, since alterations in texts are usually for the purpose of purification
and are more likely to soften than to intensify the original.
131
7 Orlando di Lasso and Rome: personal contacts
and musical influences
noel o’regan
The common use of the Italian version of his name serves to under-
line the important part played by Italy and Italian music in the life and
work of Orlando di Lasso. His earliest adult musical experiences took place
there in the 1550s and he paid frequent visits thereafter; he composed mad-
rigals and villanelle to Italian texts and his music attained considerable
popularity in Italy. This essay examines Lasso’s relations with one impor-
tant Italian center, Rome. Personal and musical contacts between the com-
poser and the city occurred during three main periods: the early 1550s
when, as a young man, he lived and worked there; the early 1560s when his
compositions played a major part in an exchange of music between Rome
and Munich; and the year 1574 when he revisited the papal city while on a
tour of Italy looking for singers.1 The 1550s and 1574 provided opportu-
nities for personal contacts with Roman musicians; as well as the 1560s
exchange, evidence of musical contact also comes from Roman manu-
scripts and from contemporary inventories of music held at the city’s insti-
tutions.
Of particular interest is the possibility of musical cross-fertilization
between Lasso and Palestrina, the two major musical figures in their respec-
tive cities, who also coincidentally died in the same year. While there is no
direct evidence of personal contact between them, these two composers
must surely have known each other when they simultaneously held posi-
tions as maestri di cappella at Rome’s two most important basilicas during
the early 1550s. In a city with as small a population as Rome then had
(around 80,000) it is inconceivable that they should not have had some
contact. We do not know exactly how long Lasso spent at S. Giovanni in
132
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
Laterano: the only known reference to him in the basilica’s archives is to the
granting of a cotta to “il maestro cappella Orlando” on 21 May 1553.2
Evidence from another archival source (see below) establishes that he was
already in the post on 31 March of that year3 and may have taken up the
position as early as 1552: he had definitely left by December 1554, and
Samuel Quickelberg, writing in 1566, said that he served a “biennium” at S.
Giovanni.4 So a tenure from late 1552 to late 1554 seems most likely.
Palestrina was maestro at the Cappella Giulia in S. Pietro from 1551 to 1555.
At that stage there would have been quite a contrast between the two men:
the slightly younger Lasso was already a cosmopolitan musician, having
seen the court of Charles V in Flanders as well as service in Mantua, Milan,
and Naples; Palestrina, on the other hand, had been plucked from the rela-
tive obscurity of an organist’s post in the town of Palestrina to become
maestro di cappella at St. Peter’s, and had no experience beyond the Roman
hinterland.
133
noel o’regan
PALESTRINA
22 Aprile 1552. Mandato del maestro de capella de Sancto Pietro per la
procesione de la Venerdi Santo scuti cinque e mezo 5.50
Mandato alli trombeti per fare lo bando del Venerdi Santo duo scuti 2
Mandato de Frate Agostino per aconcare lorgano 1
Mandato al maestro de capella de Santo Aluisci per la processione de lo
Venerdi Santo 1
(A-XI-18, Libro entrate-uscite 1551–52, fol. 4)
22 Aprile 1552. Pagar al maestro di cappella di S. Pietro per haver
accompagnato la sera del Venerdi Santo la nostra processione scudi
cinque de oro 5.50
Pagar ad lo trombetta che ha bandito in li luoghi ordinarii et
extraordinarii le indulgentie et processione del Venerdi Santo 1
(A-XI-15, fol. 37)
7 Aprile 1558. A maestro Rubino [Mallapert] cantor per una cappella di
cantori che viene a la processione del Jovedi Santo alli 7 de Aprile 4
Ali cantori di San Joanni per esser venuti alla processione del Giovedi
Santo paghai al Signor Jo:Batta Salviati 6
(A-XI-27, Libro entrate-uscite 1557–58 (included with non-foliated
mandati), fol. xv)
15 Giugno 1558. Mandato di scudi dodici de moneta da pagar alli cantori
che venirno al processione del Corpus Domini Mercordi 15 de Junio
1558 vz. scuti quattuor alli cantori di S. Jovanni quattro a quelli di S.
Maria Magior et quattro a quelli di S. Loisi 12
134
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
Note:
a Where two versions of a payment survive, these are both given. Any payments to
other musicians for the same occasions are also included. Original spelling has
been retained but abbreviated words are written out in full and modern
capitalization is used.
which they were working. This updates and extends the information given
by Domenico Alaleona.6
In the case of Lasso, only the first payment (for the Good Friday pro-
cession which fell on 31 March in 1553) mentions him by name and calls
him “maestro di cappella di S. Giovanni di Laterano.” The other payments
(for the feast of the Discovery of the Holy Cross and the Corpus Christi pro-
cession) simply mention the singers of S. Giovanni (this has to be S.
Giovanni in Laterano: S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini did not have any singers at
this period, nor did any other church dedicated to a S. Giovanni). The inclu-
sion or not of a named maestro di cappella in such records of payment for
6 Domenico Alaleona, Storia dell’oratorio musicale in Italia (Milan: Fratelli Bocca,
1945), pp. 327–32.
135
noel o’regan
special occasions by Roman institutions was arbitrary: his non-appearance
in the payment does not rule out his participation (in a number of cases
different versions of the same payment can include or omit the name of the
person in charge). Since Lasso is not thought to have left Rome until 1554 it
seems reasonable to assume that he was also in charge of the singers from S.
Giovanni on these other two occasions in 1553 – though we will probably
never be absolutely sure of this. If this was the case, it trebles the known
occasions for which Lasso provided the confraternity with music and
means that he was effectively its chosen musician-in-charge in 1553.
Palestrina’s involvement was on a more extended scale: while only
one payment actually mentions him by name (the Holy Thursday proces-
sion in 1570), that for the same procession in 1552 was made to the maestro
di cappella of S. Pietro, a post known to have been held by him in that year.
The two payments for 1558, by which time Palestrina had taken over Lasso’s
old position as maestro di cappella at S. Giovanni in Laterano, are more
problematic: for Holy Thursday, with singers hired both from that basilica
and from the then freelance Rubino Mallapert, payment was made, not to
Palestrina, but to one of the singers of S. Giovanni. The same thing hap-
pened for the Corpus Christi procession when three choirs were hired, from
S. Maria Maggiore, S. Luigi dei Francesi, and S. Giovanni in Laterano. The
maestri of the first two signed for the money due to their singers, but
Palestrina did not; instead it was signed for over a month later by one of his
singers. This was not uncommon and, as stated above, does not rule out
Palestrina’s involvement. The sums of money involved imply that the major
part of the choir was involved, and it is reasonable to assume that Palestrina
was also present. His final known provision of music for SS. Crocefisso
(upgraded to the rank of archconfraternity since 1564) was in 1570, again
for the Holy Thursday procession. Although still only providing one of the
choirs, he was now paid ten scudi, which would indicate that he provided a
greater number of singers.
As well as singers, the archives also record payments to piffari (cor-
netts and trombones) and trumpeters. These were always found at Roman
processions, though there is no evidence that they accompanied the
singers. Groups of singers and instrumentalists were spaced out along the
procession’s length, particularly at the head and tail. The great Holy Week
procession started on the evening of Holy Thursday and continued
136
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
through the night into Good Friday, with members of all Roman confrater-
nities (in habits and hoods) making their way from their individual church
or oratory to St. Peter’s Basilica, where they were shown relics of the Passion
(veil of Veronica, spear of Longinus etc.) before making their way back to
their bases. Many of the confraternities included flagellants among their
number. Of note is the payment to a trumpeter in 1552 for broadcasting
news of the special indulgences to be gained by those taking part in this pro-
cession, a common method of advertising in those days. The Corpus
Domini procession was a more local affair, held by each confraternity
within its own locality.
There is no evidence that either composer was a member of the arch-
confraternity of SS. Crocefisso: neither name appears in a register of
members from 1550 to 1557.7 Palestrina’s grandmother had left four
barrels of wine to the archconfraternity in her will of 1527 and she may have
been affiliated.8 Among its members were the piffari di castello (i.e. the
papal windband) and many of the papal singers, who normally belonged to
this confraternity: Palestrina would thus have participated in corporate
membership during his period of service in the papal choir
(January–September 1555). Although he also seems not to have been a
member, the exiled Florentine Archbishop Antonio Altoviti left fifty scudi
to the archconfraternity in his will on his death in 1573.9 Now Lasso was a
member of Altoviti’s circle while in Rome in the 1550s and was a guest at the
Altoviti palace.10 Another member of that circle was the Tuscan composer
Giovanni Animuccia, who was to succeed Palestrina as maestro di cappella
at the Cappella Giulia in 1555, and who dedicated his Primo libro de motetti
of 1552 to the archbishop. Another member of the Altoviti circle at that
time was Filippo Neri, who was already embarked on his apostolate with the
young people of Rome and was shortly to start including the singing of
laude spirituali in his gatherings, many composed by Animuccia. Lasso was
thus in personal contact with two of the most important figures in Roman
musical and devotional life during his early years in the city.
7 Rome, Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Fondo SS. Crocefisso, Z-I-48.
8 Lino Bianchi and Giancarlo Rostirolla, Iconografia palestriniana (Lucca: Libraria
musicale italiana, 1994), p. 51.
9 Rome, Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Fondo SS. Crocefisso, F-XIX-23, non-foliated.
10 Donna Cardamone Jackson, “Orlando di Lasso and Pro-French Factions in
Rome,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, pp. 23–44.
137
noel o’regan
What music might Lasso have provided for the confraternity’s pro-
cessions? We can only speculate, with little to go on at this period. Later in
the century we know that motets for four and five voices,litanies and psalms
were sung in processions such as these.11 A number of motets in Lasso’s Il
primo libro de motetti a cinque e a sei voce of 1556 have texts suitable for Holy
Week, with themes of penitence and conversion (for example, “Peccavi
quid faciam,” “Domine, non est exaltatum cor meum,” and “Domine pro-
basti me”). Another of those pieces, “Gustate et videte,” has a text which is
normally associated with the Eucharist; Wolfgang Boetticher reported
Edward Lowinsky’s speculation that it might have been written for the
Corpus Christi procession at S. Giovanni in Laterano in 1553.12 The piece
appears in both a Roman manuscript and print (see below, Table 7.2); while
both date from well after Lasso’s time in Rome, it is possible that the motet
(which is in a style more consistent with the 1550s than later) was composed
by him in 1553, when it could have been used for either the Holy Thursday
or Corpus Christi processions, or both (since the former feast is also cen-
tered on the Eucharist).
138
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
music in particular are well documented.14 It was exactly at this time too
that he formed his own cappella, with Jacobus de Kerle as maestro.15
Music from Munich was sent to Rome first, all of it seemingly com-
posed by Lasso (although he was not yet maestro di cappella at the Munich
court), but there is no record of what exactly it was. On 28 February 1561
Cardinal Otto reported from Rome that Lasso’s music, particularly the
masses,“has pleased not only [Cardinal] Vitelli in particular, and everyone
here, but especially Cardinal Borromeo, who has had them copied and
wishes to have them performed in the Papal Chapel.” Unfortunately, no
manuscript copies of masses by Lasso survive in the Cappella Sistina
library, or in any other Roman collection (though printed copies do – see
below). On the other hand, the cardinal’s statement implies that works
other than masses were also sent: a number of motets by Lasso are found in
Roman manuscripts, and it is perhaps among them that we must look for
tangible evidence of the music by Lasso known in the city. We do know that
Palestrina’s “Missa Benedicta es” was sent to Munich.16 Lasso was subse-
quently to base a Magnificat on the model for Palestrina’s mass (Josquin’s
“Benedicta es caelorum Regina”), a clear acknowledgment that he had
taken the Roman work seriously.
139
noel o’regan
Order of the Golden Spur from Pope Gregory XIII. Lasso was in Rome from
15 to 20 March and again around 6 April, visiting Naples in between. It is
difficult to imagine him not seeking out Palestrina,since the two would have
had so much to discuss about developments in sacred music in the years fol-
lowing the Council of Trent. The 6th of April was the Tuesday of Holy Week
and it is possible, even likely, that Lasso managed to attend some Holy Week
services in the city, for example at the Cappella Giulia, and the Holy
Thursday procession of confraternities.Since he was on a recruiting mission
he would have been keen to hear as many singers and musicians as possible.It
can hardly be just a coincidence that later in the same year, on 9 October
1574, the German organist at St. Peter’s, Mark Houtermann, was given a rise
in salary from three scudi a month to four because he had threatened to leave
to work for the Duke of Bavaria, and the authorities at St. Peter’s wanted to
keep him since he had given excellent service for thirteen years.17 If Lasso
heard and met Houtermann, he must also have met Palestrina, the Cappella
Giulia’s maestro.It is also highly likely that Lasso visited the German College,
where he would have met the youngVictoria,then Moderator Musicae.
140
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
vidisti me Thoma” and “Scio enim quod redemptor meus vivit,” Barrè’s
anthology is the earliest known source. Though printed in Venice as part of
a series edited by Barrè for Gardano (the other volumes concentrated on
secular music) the anthology gives a good indication of the music available
and sung in Rome at this time. As well as the seven pieces by Lasso (the
largest number by a single composer) there were three by Cipriano de Rore,
two each by Palestrina, Adrian Valent, and Hernando Lerma (all of whom
had musical positions in Roman churches), and one each by Paolo
Animuccia, Josquin Baston, Jacob Clemens, Johannes Lupi, Jean Maillard,
and the Italian, Annibale Zoilo, Palestrina’s earliest protégé. One further
early Lasso motet is found in both a Roman manuscript and printed source
dating from the 1590s: the five-voice “Gustate et videte,”mentioned earlier,
which first appeared in Lasso’s Il primo libro de motetti a cinque & a sei voci
of 1556 (Antwerp, Laet). It is possible that these Lasso motets were among
the pieces sent to Rome in 1562, though it seems more probable that Lasso
would have sent more up-to-date music. All of the motets in Barrè’s 1563
anthology are stylistically similar, examples of standard mid-century
Franco-Flemish imitative polyphony, characterized in particular by long
melismatic lines.
Table 7.2 lists individual pieces by Lasso found in Roman manu-
scripts (dates of first publication are given in brackets). Printed music by
the composer is also included in a number of surviving Roman inventories
dating from the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries: Table 7.3
lists particular prints which can be identified, together with the institutions
where they appear. Publications of Lasso’s sacred music feature particularly
strongly in an inventory from the Chiesa Nuova (perhaps reflecting Lasso’s
acquaintance with Filippo Neri in the early 1550s). They are also included
in sixteenth-century lists from San Luigi dei Francesi and San Rocco.20 The
Cappella Pontificia has only his 1574 masses, presumably the copy pre-
sented by the composer to Pope Gregory XIII in that same year. Evidence of
Roman performances of specific pieces is confined to his setting of “Deus
misereatur nostri,” sung at the Collegio Germanico on 17 January 1583
20 On the other hand, there are significant Roman institutions for which
inventories of printed music survive which do not include Lasso; these include
the Cappella Giulia, S. Giovanni in Laterano, S. Maria Maggiore, S. Lorenzo in
Damaso, S. Giacomo degli Spagnoli, and S. Maria di Monserrato.
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noel o’regan
Table 7.2 Pieces by Lasso found in Roman manuscripts
(Rn=Biblioteca Nazionale; Rsc=Biblioteca del Conservatorio di Santa Cecilia;
Rvat=Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana)
5vv Gustate et videte (1st ed. 1556) Rsc G 796–804a
Benedicam Dominum (1562) Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88
Confitemini Domino (1562) Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88
In me transierunt (1562) Rvat Cappella Sistina 484
Surrexit pastor bonus (1562) Rsc G 796–804a
6vv Quare tristis es, anima mea (1564) Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88
Locutus sum in lingua mea (1568) Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88
8vv In convertendo Dominus (1565) All three 8vv pieces are found in:
Deus misereatur nostri (1566) Rn Mss. Mus. 77–88 (revised)
Levavi oculos meos in montes (1566) Rvat Cappella Giulia XIII 24
(revised)
Rsc G 792–795/Rn Mss. Mus.
117–121 (revised)
Note:
aThese pieces are also found in Jean Matelart, Responsoria, antiphonae et hymni in
processionibus per annum (Rome: Nicolo Mutii, 1596).
142
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
after Compline as part of a special Forty-Hours Devotion to pray that the
Archbishop of Cologne would not turn Lutheran.21 Particularly significant
evidence of his continued popularity in Rome is the fact that the maestro at
S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini, Felice Anerio, caused six unspecified pieces by
Lasso to be copied from a print in 1590.22 Two of the pieces in Table 7.2,
“Gustate et videte” and “Surrexit pastor bonus,” are found in sources con-
nected with both S. Spirito in Sassia (the Rsc partbooks) and S. Lorenzo in
Damaso (Matelart’s 1596 publication).23 The three eight-voice pieces are
found in manuscripts connected with the Cappella Giulia, Chiesa Nuova,
and SS. Trinità dei Pellegrini. All of this represents a considerable number
of Roman institutions with experience of Lasso’s music. Further evidence
of interest is provided by an inventory of the goods found in the room of the
rector of the Collegio Capranica on 5 September 1590: included was an
unspecified bundle of books by Orlando di Lasso, the only named com-
poser in the list. These may, however, have been madrigals, since the inven-
tory also lists a set of five viols and a cittern.24 An inventory of the books
found in the shop of a bookseller called Giacomo Verrecchio in the Via del
Pellegrino, at his death on 1 July 1591 included copies of Lasso’s first and
third books of madrigals a4, his first, second and fifth books of madrigals
a5, and fifteen copies of an unspecified book of motets.25
Perhaps the most significant thing to emerge from the two tables is the
predominance of individual pieces and publications dating from the 1560s.
143
noel o’regan
This implies either a strong interest in Lasso’s music during this decade in
Rome, or a continued interest in the music which Lasso published in the
1560s, or most likely both. Now it was precisely during this decade that
Roman church music, undergoing radical change in the aftermath of the
Council of Trent, would have been most open to influence by Lasso’s music.
If this were the case it is likely to have been felt mostly in the areas of texture
and sonority, since melodically there remained significant differences
between Lasso and Roman composers.
It was in the matter of texture, in particular, that a fundamental
change took place in Roman church music during the 1560s. It is, however,
difficult to pinpoint this precisely in the published works of Palestrina and
Giovanni Animuccia, the only composers publishing in the city during that
decade; the unresolved debate over the dating of the “Missa Papae Marcelli”
is a witness to this. It is compounded by the fact that Palestrina’s severely
imitative and contrapuntal 1563 Motecta festorum totius anni are for four
voices only, and would thus be less likely to exhibit newer textural tenden-
cies; his next book of motets, the Primo libro dei mottetti a cinque, sei e sette
voci of 1569, shows a pronounced move to more layered homophony, at
least some of which is the result of the greater number of voices employed.
Palestrina published no masses between the strongly Franco-Flemish first
book of 1554 and those of 1567 which were written, as he himself said in the
dedication, in a “new manner.” Animuccia’s only published masses are
those of his Missarum liber primus of 1567 in which he endeavored that the
music “might disturb the hearing of the text as little as possible.”These, and
his Magnificats of 1568, show a significant break from the style of his earlier
works, but he had not published any sacred music since 1552.
All but two of the Lasso pieces in Table 7.2 (“Benedicam Dominum”
and “Gustate et videte”) have the sort of antiphonal dialogue between sub-
groups of voices which became a feature of both Palestrina’s and
Animuccia’s style from their 1567 masses onwards. For instance, Example
7.1, taken from “In me transierunt,” found in the manuscript, Cappella
Sistina 484 (and published in 1562), and Example 7.2, taken from “Locutus
sum in lingua mea” in the Biblioteca Nazionale partbooks (and published
in 1568), are clear examples of the sort of pseudo-polyphonic writing
which was seen to satisfy the requirements of the Council of Trent, while
showing a keen sensitivity to the words. These can be compared to Example
144
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
26 I
Cantus &w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ Ó w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙
w ˙ ˙I
i> con - tur - ba - ve - runt me, <con - tur - ba - ve - runt me,> con- tur- ba- ve -
w. ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w w w w
Altus V ∑ ∑
i> con - tur - ba- ve - runt me, <con - tur - ba - - - ve - runt
˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
Tenor 1 Vw w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙
w ∑
i> con -
I
tur - ba- ve - runt me, <con- tur- ba - ve- runt me,> con - tur - ba- ve - runt me:
Tenor 2 Vw w ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ Ó ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
tu - i> con - tur - ba - ve- runt me, <con - tur - ba- ve - runt
? ˙. œ ˙
Bassus „ Ó ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w ∑ Ó ˙ ˙
›
i> con - tur- ba - ve- runt me, <con - tur - ba- ve - runt
32
& ˙ ˙ w „ ∑ w w #w w w „ w. ˙ ˙ ˙ w
- runt me: cor me - um con - tur - ba-tum est,
w ∑ › › › w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
V
me:> cor me - um con - tur- ba- tum est, <con- tur - ba-tum est,> con -
V ∑ w w #w w w w ˙. œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
cor me - um, <cor me - um> con - tur- ba- tum est, <cor me - um con -
V w w w w w w w w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
w ˙
me:> cor me - um, cor me - um con - tur- ba- tum est, <con- tur - ba-tum est,> con -
? w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
w w
w w
w w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙
me:> cor me - um con - tur- ba- tum est, <con-
7.3, from Palestrina’s “Crucem sanctam subiit” from 1569, or Example 7.4,
from Animuccia’s “Missa Christe Redemptor” of 1567. Another feature of
all these examples is the stronger harmonic sense, reinforced by a bass line
which moves a lot in fourths and fifths.
Now, it would be simplistic to claim that Lasso’s was the only
influence which led to Animuccia and Palestrina adopting this new style.
There were other models to hand for Roman composers: some of these tex-
tural features are already found in the music of Morales and, in particular,
in that of Jacobus de Kerle, such as his Preces Speciales or his Sex Missae, both
from 1562. Kerle was regularly in Rome between 1562 and 1565 in the
145
noel o’regan
57 I
Cantus & 24 ˙ ˙ w w ∑ „ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœœ˙ ˙
- num, ut vi - de - ant qui
Altus 1 V 24
w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œœœ˙ ˙
4
- num,>
w
ut
˙ ˙
vi - de -
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
ant qui o - de - runt
w
me, ut
w
vi - - - de -
˙
Altus 2 V2 w w Ó ˙ ˙
- num, ut vi - de - ant qui o - de - runt
I I I me, ut vi - de -
Tenor V 24 w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ œ œœ˙ w w ∑
num,> ut vi - de - ant qui o - de - - -- - runt me,
? 24 „ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ
Bassus 1 „ „ ∑ Ó œ
ut vi - de - ant
Bassus 2
? 24 ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœœ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w w ∑
ut vi - de - ant qui o - de - runt me,
62 I
& ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ Œ œ œ œ #˙ ˙ ˙
˙o - de˙ -˙ ˙- -
w
runt me,
#w
et
˙ . #œ œ ˙ œ œ b˙ ˙
con- fun - dan - tur,
˙
et con- fun - dan - tur, quo -
œ œ ˙ w
V Ó
ant qui o - de - runt me, et con- fun - dan - tur, et con- fun - dan - tur,
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ #w
V
˙ . œIœ ˙I
ant qui o - de - runt me, et con- fun - dan - tur,<et con - fun - dan -
V „ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ w Ó œ œ ˙ w
et con- fun - dan-tur, et con- fun - dan - tur,
?˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w œ œ b˙ w ∑ Ó œ œ
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
qui o - de - runt me, et con- fun - dan-tur, et con- fun - dan - tur,
?„ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ w ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ w
et con- fun - dan-tur, <et con- fun - dan- tur,>
Example 7.2: Orlando di Lasso, “Locutus sum in lingua mea” (1568), mm.
57–66 (CM, vol. 6, pp. 52–3)
146
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
33
Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙
Cantus &b „ ∑ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w ∑
sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a,
Altus & b ˙. œ ˙
Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ #˙ . œ w ∑
˙ w
ten - - - ti - a, sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a,
. . ˙ ˙
Tenor 1 Vb ˙ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙
po - - ten - ti - a, sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a, sur - re - xit
Vb Ó ˙ w „ „ Ó ˙ w
Tenor 2
w w
po - ten - ti - a, sur - re -
w
Bassus
?
b ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w „ „ Ó ˙
ten - - - - ti - a, sur - re -
38 I
&b „ „ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a.
&b „ „ w w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙
˙ ˙
sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a.
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w w ˙ w
Vb ˙ ˙. œ w
di - e ter - ti - a, sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a.
Vb ˙ w ˙ ˙. œ w Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ
xit di - e ter - ti - a, sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a.
?b ˙ w ˙ b˙ . œ w w w ˙ w ˙. œ w
˙
xit di - e ter - ti - a, sur - re - xit di - e ter - ti - a.
147
noel o’regan
˙ w ˙ ˙
83
Cantus &b ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
tris, mi - se - re - re no - bis. Quo - ni - am tu so - lus san - ctus, tu
Altus &b ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ #w w ∑ „ ∑ Ó ˙
tris, mi - se - re - re
ḃ no - bis.
w ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ tu˙
Tenor 1 Vb ˙ w ˙ ˙ w ˙
tris, mi - se - re - re no - bis. Quo - ni - am tu so - lus san - ctus, tu
w. w ˙
Tenor 2 Vb w ∑ „ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
˙
tris, Quo - ni - am tu so - lus san - ctus, tu
Bassus
?b w ∑ „ w. ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w
tris, Quo - ni - am tu so - lus san - ctus,
88
˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙. œ w ˙ w w. ˙ w. ˙
&b „ Ó
so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu so - lus al - tis - si -
& b ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ˙ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ . œ # ˙ . œ ˙ N tu˙ so˙ - lus˙ Do˙ . - miœ - nus,
so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu
w ˙. œ ˙
so - lus al - tis - si -
Vb w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu so - lus al - tis - si -
˙ . w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
Vb ˙ ˙ œ w ˙ ˙
œœœœ
˙. œ
so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu so - lus al - tis - - - si -
˙
? „
b ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙. œ
w Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ w. ˙
tu so - lus Do - mi - nus, tu so - lus al - tis - si -
already widely held, together with the memory of personal contact in the
1550s, would have added weight to any examples of his up-to-date music
which might have reached Rome.
Polychoral music
In the area of polychoral music the evidence for Lasso’s influence on
Roman composers is more direct. In particular, three eight-voice pieces by
Lasso are found, in a revised form, in the three related sets of Roman part-
books listed in Table 7.2. It appears that these pieces, together with others by
148
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
Palestrina and Marenzio, were rewritten in order that they could be per-
formed by separated choirs.27 Clearly these pieces were known and
admired in Roman circles. As stated above, “Deus misereatur nostri” is
mentioned in the German College diaries in connection with the Forty-
Hours Devotion – though we do not know which version was used. The
presence of the revised versions in the Cappella Giulia partbooks is particu-
larly significant. The first layer of these partbooks, which include the Lasso
reworkings, was certainly compiled during Palestrina’s second period as
maestro – most likely in 158428 – making it clear that the revisions were
carried out with his approval. While he could have carried them out
himself, the case for his student and colleague in the revision of plainsong,
Annibale Zoilo, is stronger. Rn 77–88 has two of the three pieces written in a
handwriting which has been identified as Zoilo’s;29 it is clear that the origi-
nal Lasso versions were first written in and then altered by rubbing out and
correcting over; some of the original notes can still be read. The same part-
books have two versions of Palestrina’s “Laudate Dominum omnes gentes”
and Animuccia’s “Pater noster,” both the published versions from 1572 and
1570, respectively, and revised versions along the same lines as the Lasso
pieces. The revision of Palestrina’s “Laudate Dominum” could surely only
have been done with the composer’s sanction, if it was not actually carried
out by himself.
Such revisions for performance purposes by one composer of
another’s music are certainly unusual (as opposed to the adding of an extra
part, or parodying – both of which imply an act of homage or imitatio). The
rewriting cannot be said to have improved these pieces: indeed, Wolfgang
Boetticher was misled by this into thinking that the revised versions were in
fact Lasso’s own earlier attempts.30 Why did Zoilo not simply write new set-
27 Noel O’Regan, “The Early Polychoral Music of Orlando di Lasso: New Light
from Roman Sources,” Acta Musicologica, 56 (1984), p. 234. The paper includes
examples of the alterations.
28 There is a payment in the archives of the Cappella Giulia for the binding of
twelve books of the chapel on 31 January 1584 which may well refer to this set,
since no other set of twelve partbooks is known to have been in the chapel at
this time. See Rostirolla, “La Cappella Giulia,” p. 273.
29 The handwriting was identified by Lucia Navarrini. See her La musica di
Annibale Zoilo (Florence: Tesi di laurea, Universita degli studi di Firenze, 1984).
30 Wolfgang Boetticher, “Eine Frühfassung doppelchöriger Motetten Orlando di
Lassos,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 12 (1955), p. 206.
149
noel o’regan
tings of these texts? The revision process suggests homage of a different
kind, a desire to keep highly regarded pieces in the repertory by bringing
them up to date for the needs of the 1580s for full cori spezzati pieces. It also
makes clear that these Lasso pieces were known in Rome in their original
form and highly regarded – in particular by Zoilo and Palestrina. The
motets were published in Paris and Venice in 1565 and 1566, respectively;
we do not know when they first arrived in Rome.
The most crucial stage of development for Roman polychoral music
occurred between 1572 and 1575.31 Eight-voice pieces had been published
by Giovanni Animuccia, Palestrina, and Victoria in 1570 and 1572; these
were not properly polychoral since there was no consistent division into
two choirs, but they had many of the features of that idiom. In 1575
Palestrina published the first Roman music for two harmonically indepen-
dent choirs; Victoria partly adopted the new style in 1576 and composers
such as Zoilo, Giovanni da Macque, and Annibale Stabile began to write in
the new idiom shortly thereafter. This change could have been entirely
indigenous, but it is natural to look for any antecedents from outside Rome
which might have helped the process. The only non-Roman polychoral
music found in Roman manuscripts which was composed before 1572 are
the three pieces by Lasso listed above and two by Domenico Phinot,32
“Incipit oratio” and “Tanto tempore.” The Phinot pieces were first pub-
lished in 1547, but are more likely to have reached Rome in the anthology
RISM 15641. They do have some features which were to characterize Roman
polychoral music, particularly in their use of antiphonal repetition by two
largely independent choral groups, but they are still very much in the
experimental stage. The original versions of the three Lasso pieces, on the
other hand, do present many elements which could have influenced
Palestrina in 1572 and 1575.
Firstly, all three are psalm-motets, as were Palestrina’s four 1572
pieces and “Jubilate Deo” from the 1575 set (the other 1575 pieces also use
sectionalized texts such as sequences or Marian antiphons). In the 1572
pieces Palestrina did not try to mark the divisions of his psalm-derived texts
31 See Noel O’Regan, “Sacred Polychoral Music in Rome 1575–1621,” unpublished
D. Phil. diss., University of Oxford (1988).
32 These are found in Rsc 792–5/Rn 117–121, which also contains the revised Lasso
pieces.
150
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
into verses by musical means; his concern was more with the individual
phrase or word, and with setting that as effectively as possible. He used his
eight voices as a flexible palette, continually changing vocal grouping in
response to the text. In 1575, on the other hand, he made his task easier by
his use of distinct choirs on the Lasso model. From this point on, like Lasso
(and the earlier salmi spezzati of Willaert and Jachet), he does observe the
verse divisions and half-divisions by alternating choirs or by changing from
single choir to tutti. Palestrina also invariably begins with an extended
opening phrase for Choir I, something found in each of the three Lasso
pieces, and a practice which was to continue in use by Roman composers of
polychoral music up to the late 1580s.
In one of the 1572 pieces, “Confitebor tibi,” Palestrina sets different
syllables to consecutive semiminims, something very exceptional in his
sacred music, though it was becoming widely used for text declamation in
secular music (see Ex. 7.5). This can be seen in Lasso’s “Locutus sum in
lingua mea” (see Ex. 7.2) and is common in his double-choir pieces, as in
Example 7.6 from “In convertendo.” Younger Roman composers were
much quicker to take up this sort of text declamation, as in Annibale Zoilo’s
“Nunc dimittis” from the Cappella Giulia XIII 24 partbooks (see Ex. 7.7).
The antiphonal fragmentation of the text seen in Example 7.6 is exactly
what became common in Roman polychoral music from the 1580s
onwards. On the more general stylistic level, in his eight-voice pieces from
1572, and even more so those from 1575, Palestrina moved closer to Lasso
in using shorter melodic phrases with repeated notes and more harmonic
bass lines, with more frequent cadences. These features occur even more
prominently in the music of Zoilo, Giovanni da Macque and other Rome-
based composers of the late 1570s.
Lasso’s brief visit to Rome in 1574 came right in the middle of this
period of stylistic change in Roman polychoral music. While one can only
speculate on what might have passed between the two composers, assum-
ing that they met, the time would certainly have been right for an in-depth
discussion of cori spezzati. Could this have centered around the three Lasso
pieces with, perhaps, the composer even being consulted about their revi-
sion? Conditions in the old St. Peter’s Basilica were quite different from
those at the Munich court chapel, and it was presumably this which forced
the change to writing for independent choirs which could be separated by a
151
noel o’regan
1
› w. ˙ w. ˙ ›
Cantus 1 &b › w w
Con - fi - te - bor ti - - - bi Do - mi - ne
w w w w ˙ ˙ œœœœœœ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ #˙ w
Tenor 1 Vb ∑
Con - fi - te - bor ti - - - - bi Do - - - mi - ne
b
w w w w œ œœœ ˙ w ˙ ˙. œ˙ ˙ ›
?
Bassus 1 b ∑
Con - fi - te - bor ti - bi Do - mi - ne
Cantus 2 &b „ „ „ „ „ „
Altus 2 &b „ „ „ „ „ ∑ ˙. œ
quo - ni -
Tenor 2 Vb „ „ „ „ „ „
? ˙. œ
Bassus 2 b „ „ „ „ „ ∑
quo - ni -
152
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
7
› ›
&b „ „ „
con - - -
&b „ „ „ ˙. œ œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ w
quo - ni- am i - ra - tus es mi -
› ˙. œ œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ w w
Vb „ ∑
quo - ni - am i - ra - tus es mi - hi,
˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
? „ ›
b „
quo - ni- am i - ra - tus es mi - hi,
˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w › w
&b „ ∑
quo - ni- am i - ra - tus es mi - hi, con -
&b œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙
am i - ra - tus es mi - hi, i - ra - tus es mi - - - hi, con -
˙. œ œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙
Vb ˙ ˙ œœ w w ∑ ∑
quo - ni- am i - ra - tus es mi - hi, con -
? œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ b› › „ ∑ w
b
am i - ra - tus es mi - - - hi, con -
153
noel o’regan
19
˙
Cantus 1 &b œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ #˙ w „
et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,
Altus 1 &b ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ #œ œ œ œ ˙ w „
et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,
˙ œ œ ˙ #˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ #w
Tenor 1 Vb „
et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,
? ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙
œ œ œ œ ˙ w „
Bassus 1 b
et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,
Cantus 2 &b „ ∑ Ó
˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ
et lin- gua no - stra ex - sul -
Altus 2 &b „ ∑ Ó
˙ œ œ ˙
et
˙ nexœ - sulœ -
lin- gua no - stra
Tenor 2 Vb „ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ #˙ œ œ
et lin- gua no - stra ex - sul -
? „ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙
Bassus 2 b œ œ ˙ œ œ
et lin- gua no - stra ex - sul -
Example 7.6: Orlando di Lasso, “In convertendo” (1565), mm. 19–25 (CM,
vol. 4, pp. 194–5)
154
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
23
&b ∑ Ó ˙ #œ œ ˙ n˙ Nœ œ œ œ ˙ nw
<et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,>
&b ∑ Ó
˙
œ œ #˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ w
et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,
˙ œ œ ˙
˙ œ œ œ œ İ w
Vb ∑ Ó
et lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,
? ∑ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ w
b Ó ˙
et <lin - gua no - stra ex - sul - ta - ti - o - ne,>
& b œ œ #˙ w „ ∑ Ó ˙
ta - ti - o - ne, <et
&b œ œ ˙ „ ∑ Ó
˙
nw
ta - ti - o - ne, <et
Vb œ œ ˙ w „ ∑ Ó n˙
ta - ti - o - ne, et
? œ bœ ˙ „ ∑ Ó ˙
b w
ta - ti - o - ne, et
being sung, copied, reworked, and bought in Rome up to the 1590s testifies
to a continued lively interest which must, in turn, have had at least some
part in forming the newly developing styles of Roman composers in the
decades after the Council of Trent.
155
noel o’regan
56
˙ œ œ #˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ
Cantus 1 &b „ ∑
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, glo - ri - a
Altus 1 &b ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ „ ∑ ˙ œ œ
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, glo - ri - a
˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ
Tenor 1 Vb „ ∑
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, glo - ri - a
˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ
Bassus 1 Vb ˙ „ ∑
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, glo - ri - a
˙ œ œ #˙ . œ œ ˙ œ ˙
Cantus 2 &b „ Ó
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o,
Altus 2 &b „ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ Ó
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o,
˙ œ œ ˙. œ œ œ œ. œ ˙
Tenor 2 Vb „ J
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o,
˙ œ œ ˙
Bassus 2 Vb „ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó
Glo - ri - a Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o,
Example 7.7: Annibale Zoilo, “Nunc dimittis” (Rvat Giul. XIII, 24), mm.
56–61
156
o r l a n d o d i l as s o a n d r o m e
59
œ œ ˙ œ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ #œ ˙
& b #˙ . Ó
Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o, et Spi - ri - tu - i San - cto,
&b ˙ œ œ œ. œ œ œ
J œ œ œ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó
Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o, et Spi - ri - tu - - - - i San - cto,
˙. œ œ œ œ. œ w
Œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙ ˙
Vb J Ó
Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o, et Spi - ri - tu - i San - cto,
Vb ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó
˙
Pa - tri, et Fi - li - o, et Spi - ri - tu - i San - - - - cto,
˙ œ œ
&b „ „ ∑
glo - ri - a
&b „ „ ∑ ˙ œ œ
glo - ri - a
˙ œ œ
Vb „ „ ∑
glo - ri - a
˙ œ œ
Vb „ „ ∑
glo - ri - a
157
8 Orlando di Lasso as a model for composition as
seen in the three-voice motets of Jean de Castro
ignace bossuyt
158
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
counterpart to the“secret”Penitential Psalms composed by Lasso about 1559
for Duke Albrecht of Munich. Utendal “outdid” his model by applying the
new theory of the twelve modes, propagated by Henricus Glareanus
(Dodecachordon, 1547), while Lasso had held to the old system of eight
modes.3 Utendal’s second book of motets (1573) was also clearly inspired by
Lasso’s 1566 Venetian collection (RISM 1566e), which was reprinted two
years later within the Selectissimae Cantiones issued in Nuremberg by
Theodor Gerlach,the publishing house for all of Utendal’s works.It is partic-
ularly striking that the 1566 and 1573 collections each begin with a setting of
the opening words from the Gospel according to John, “In principio erat
Verbum.”4 Another collection from that same year (1573), by Ivo de Vento,
organist at the Bavarian court,also starts with a motet on this text.5
One of the most common examples of imitatio is the contrafactum
technique. Besides the publication in Germany of German contrafacta
based on Lasso’s French chansons,6 in France itself Lasso’s chansons were
the preferred models for religious contrafacta made by the Huguenots.
Their admiration for the musical qualities of his work was such that they
chose to recast his dubious texts in order to adopt his music, rather than
turn to other composers who had not lowered themselves to such scandal-
ous ditties capable of sullying Christian ears and inciting youth to moral
depravity.7
3 Ignace Bossuyt, “Die ‘Psalmi Poenitentiales’ (1570) des Alexander Utendal. Ein
künstlerisches Gegenstück der Busspsalmen von O. Lassus und eine praktische
Anwendung von Glareans Theorie der zwölf Modi,” Archiv für
Musikwissenschaft, 38 (1981), pp. 279–95. Concerning Lasso and the eight
modes, see Georg Reichert, “Martin Crusius und die Musik in Tübingen um
1590,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 10 (1953), pp. 210–12, and Bernhard Meier,
The Modes of Classical Vocal Polyphony Described According to the Sources, trans.
Ellen Beebe (New York: Broude, 1988), pp. 30–1.
4 Bossuyt, Alexander Utendal, pp. 97–8.
5 August de Groote, “Ivo De Vento (ca. 1543/45–1575). Organist en componist in
de kapel van Orlandus Lassus,” Orlandus Lassus and his Time, p. 303.
6 The collection Orlando di Lasso etliche ausserlessne/kurtze/gute geistliche und
weltliche Liedlein mit 4 Stimmen/so zuvor in Frantzösischer Sprach aussgangen,
compiled by the singer Johann Pühler and published in 1582 by Adam Berg in
Munich (RISM 1582l).
7 Bossuyt, “Orlandus Lassus (1532–1594) en het contrafact,” De zeventiende eeuw
(1989), pp. 190–7, and Richard Freedman, “Divins accords: The Lassus
Chansons and their Protestant Readers of the Late Sixteenth Century,” Orlandus
Lassus and his Time, pp. 273–94.
159
i g nac e b o s s u y t
The most current imitatio practice was that of the so-called parody, in
which a secular or a sacred composition served as the point of departure for
the composition of a mass. Here again Lasso’s multifaceted oeuvre was an
almost inexhaustible source of inspiration.At least eighty masses were com-
posed on Lasso’s models.8 Less common was the process of “reworking,” in
which a composition originally written for four or more voices was
“arranged” for three. This imitatio technique seems to have enjoyed a
remarkable vogue amongst the nobility and the well-off bourgeoisie in
Antwerp. A crucial year in the history of the tricinium was 1569, when in a
single burst of activity the Leuven publisher Pierre Phalèse published no
fewer than seven collections of Latin motets and French chansons for three
voices. One of these editions was devoted solely to the motets and chansons
of GérardVan Turnhout,master of the music at the Cathedral of Our Blessed
Lady in Antwerp; the collection is dedicated to Adriaen Dyck, chief clerk of
the city (Sacrarum ac aliarum cantionum trium vocum . . . Liber unus).9 The
six other collections consist of two series of anthologies, each comprising
three books: three with motets (Selectissimarum Sacrarum Cantionum
(quas vulgo motetas vocant) flores, trium vocum) and three with chansons
(Recueil des Fleurs produictes de la divine musicque a trois parties, par
Clemens non Papa, Thomas Cricquillon, et aultres excellens musiciens).10 The
first motet from the first part of the anthology,“Ad te levavi oculos,” is by Jean
de Castro. With six of the eighteen works to his name, he is the best-repre-
sented composer and, surprisingly, the least famous, surrounded by such
renowned figures as Thomas Crequillon, Hubert Waelrant, and Cornelius
160
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
Canis, each of whom has but one work, and Clemens non Papa with only
two. De Castro does not appear in the second part, while the third includes
one of his motets. The first part of the chanson anthology is almost com-
pletely dominated by the names of Clemens and Crequillon, but in the two
following parts de Castro does reappear with two and six works respectively.
By placing the newcomer Castro among the more established names,
Phalèse clearly reduced his financial risk,although the publisher did venture
to give Castro the place of honor in the first part of the motet anthology.
He did not, however, risk putting Castro’s first complete collection on
the market; this appeared later in that same year (1569) in Antwerp under
the title, Di Iean Castro Il primo libro di madrigali, canzoni & motetti a tre
voci. At that moment there happened to be no publisher of renown active in
Antwerp. Tielman Susato had left the city in 1561; his son Jacob was able to
produce only one edition, in 1564, before he died later that same year.
Christopher Plantin had not yet ventured to print polyphony; only in 1578
did he see such repertory as a moneymaker. Jean de Laet, who had started
publishing music together with Hubertus Waelrant in 1554, had died in
1566. When in 1569 Jean de Castro wanted to create a name for himself as a
composer in Antwerp, his only available recourse was to Laet’s widow,
Elisabeth Saen, who published a further ten books after the death of her
husband, only three of which were given over to music. One of the latter was
Castro’s debut.11 The fact that this work was not published by Phalèse, at the
time the leading music publisher in the Low Countries, may have had
several causes. In the first place, it would appear that Phalèse was not overly
keen on untried talent. He was more likely to build on the fame of well-
known composers whose work had already appeared in Antwerp or abroad.
He left the discovery of new faces to others.12 Secondly, until then Phalèse
had yet to publish a single madrigal; he seems to have resisted the genre,
fearing his clientele was not familiar enough with Italian.13 Thirdly, it was
fitting that the collection should appear in Antwerp, since the dedicatee,
Giovanni Giacomo Fiesco, had been active there as a trader representing the
11 See the introduction by Saskia Willaert and Katrien Derde to Jean de Castro,
Opera Omnia, vol. 3, Il primo libro di madrigali, canzoni e motetti a tre voci
(1569), ed. Ignace Bossuyt, Henri Vanhulst et al. (Leuven: Leuven University
Press, 1995), p. 10. 12 Vanhulst,Catalogue, p. xxxvii.
13 Ibid., p. xxxi.
161
i g nac e b o s s u y t
Genoese Nation, an influential commercial and financial presence in the
city since 1530. Together with the south German merchants and bankers –
especially the Fugger family from Augsburg – the Genoese were the main
financiers (the so-called asentistas) to the Spanish crown, supporting the
power of both Charles V and Philip II in the Low Countries, especially by
bankrolling the Spanish troops stationed in the region.14
Castro’s first product shows remarkable parallels with another
Antwerp debut fourteen years previously, Susato’s edition of Le quatoir-
siesme livre a quatre parties contenant dixhuyct chansons italiennes, six
chanson francoises, & six motetz . . . par Rolando di Lassus (RISM 1555a),
which was reissued in that same year as D’Orlando di Lassus il Primo Libro
dovesi contengono Madrigali, Vilanesche, Canzoni francesi e Motetti a
quattro voci (RISM 1555b). Like Castro’s collection, Lasso’s includes a dedi-
cation in Italian addressed to a leading member of the Genoese Nation, the
nobleman-merchant Stefano Gentile. The contents are also similar: Italian
works (Lasso included villanesche along with madrigals) are followed in
both collections by French chansons and then Latin motets. Around this
same period Philippe de Monte was also able to count on the protection of a
Genoese figure of stature, Giovanni Grimaldi, to whom the composer dedi-
cated his third book of six-voice madrigals in 1576.15 The names of Gentile,
Fiesco, and Grimaldi are regularly found mentioned together in official
documents.16 Both Gentile and Grimaldi were praised by their contempo-
raries for more than their purely commercial activities: literature and
music were also close to their heart. These and other Italian merchants and
traders clearly played more than a marginal role in the spread of
Renaissance culture in the Low Countries.17
Castro’s three-voice debut comprised twelve madrigals, thirteen
chansons, and eight motets. All the motets in the collection and eight of the
14 Willaert and Derde, Castro, Opera Omnia, vol. 3, p. 11. See also Willaert and
Derde, “Het mecenaat van de Genuese natie in Antwerpen in de tweede helft van
de 16de eeuw,” Orlandus Lassus en Antwerpen 1554–1556, exhibition catalogue
(Antwerp: Stad Antwerp, 1994), pp. 47–56.
15 Cf. Brian Mann, The Secular Madrigals of Filippo di Monte 1521–1603 (Ann
Arbor, Mich.: University Microfilms, 1983), pp. 4–5. The dedication to Grimaldi
is reproduced on p. 426.
16 Willaert and Derde, Castro, Opera Omnia, vol. 3, p. 11.
17 Karel Bostoen, Dichterschap en Koopmanschap in de zestiende eeuw. Omtrent de
dichters Guillaume de Poetou en Jan vander Noot, Deventer Studiën 1 (Deventer:
Sub Rosa Deventer, 1987), pp. 163–5.
162
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
thirteen chansons (but none of the madrigals) also appeared shortly there-
after in the same year (1569) in the Phalèse anthology mentioned above.
Castro’s work, including the madrigals, must have made more than a
passing impression on Phalèse, for a year later, in 1570, he devoted a com-
plete edition to Castro, this time complementing the chansons with madri-
gals, even placing them first in the collection – although he cautiously gave
the chansons top billing in the title (Chansons et madrigales a quatre parties
. . . par Maistre Iean de Castro). It was at the same time Castro’s first collec-
tion of four-voice works. The collaboration with Phalèse seems to have
proceeded smoothly, for one year later a collection of five-voice motets
made its appearance (with an eight-voice motet at its close): Sacrarum can-
tionum quinque et octo vocum . . . Liber unus. Ioanne de Castro Autore. A new
set of tricinia, this time all motets, appeared in 1574 (Ioannis a Castro
Musici Celeberrimi Triciniorum Sacrorum . . . Liber unus). Phalèse even
turned to Castro when putting together two extensive collections of chan-
sons, one for three voices (a form which had become something of a Castro
speciality), and one for four voices. These collections appeared respec-
tively in 1574 and 1575 as La Fleur des Chansons a trois parties, contenant un
recueil, produit de la divine musique de Iean Castro, Severin Cornet, Noë
Faignient, & autres excellens Aucteurs and Livre de Meslanges contenant un
recueil de chansons a quatre parties, choisy des plus excellens aucteurs de
nostre temps, par Iean Castro Musicien. In La Fleur no fewer than forty of
the ninety-one works are by Castro; in Livre de Meslanges Castro accounts
for nineteen of the seventy-three works.18 The highlight of Castro’s Leuven
editions was without a doubt the 1576 collection of four-, five-, and eight-
voice chansons on texts by Pierre de Ronsard (Chansons, odes et sonetz de
Pierre Ronsard, mises en musique a quatre, a cinq et huit parties, par Iean de
Castro),19 with which Castro joined the Ronsard vogue of the 1570s.20
18 For a complete table of contents, see Vanhulst, Catalogue, pp. 206–8 and 214–16.
Both collections also include a number of madrigals.
19 Modern edition by Jeanice Brooks in Recent Researches in the Music of the
Renaissance, 97 (Madison: A-R Editions, 1994). Cf. Ignace Bossuyt, “Jean de
Castro: Chansons, odes et sonetz de Pierre Ronsard,” Revue de musicologie, 74
(1988), pp. 173–88. Phalèse approached Castro to reorganize the contents of the
1576 edition of the Septiesme livre des chansons, according to Rudolf Rasch, “The
‘Livre septiesme’,” Atti del XIV Congresso della Società Internazionale di
Musicologia, Bologna 27. Aug.–1. Sept.1987, ed. Angelo Pompilio et al. (Turin:
Edizioni di Torino, 1990), vol. 1, pp. 306–18.
20 In the previous year, 1575, Phalèse had published the Sonetz de Pierre de Ronsard
163
i g nac e b o s s u y t
The year 1576 was also to mark the end of Castro’s first Antwerp
period. He had been attracted to the international economic metropolis in
the 1560s because of the presence of wealthy, art-loving patrons. These
seem to have seen him as a promising composer worthy of generous
support, if we consider that (like Lasso) he made his debut with a complete
collection rather than merely a few compositions in an anthology. Like
Lasso in 1554–6, Castro did not hold a permanent position while in
Antwerp (editions mention him simply as “musicien” or “musicus celeber-
rimus”), although he likely aspired to one. In September 1556 Lasso had
acquired a steady job as a tenor at the Bavarian court in Munich, thanks to
the mediation of Johann Jakob Fugger and Bishop Antoine Perrenot de
Granvelle, to whom he had dedicated his first collection of motets, the so-
called Antwerp Motet Book, earlier that same year.21 Although Lasso’s ulti-
mate success probably resulted from his much greater ambition, this
appointment in Munich was a crucial turn of events in launching a brilliant
international career as a composer. Castro was less fortunate, probably in
part as a result of the difficult political and religious circumstances: in 1576,
ten years after the infamous iconoclastic fury, Antwerp was violently
shaken by the plundering of the Spanish soldiers (the so-called Spanish
Fury), which caused an immediate and massive flight of the city’s popula-
tion.
Castro fled via Germany to Lyons, where he had friends. One of these
was Justinien Pense, a wealthy carpet-merchant, for whom in 1570–1, while
Pense was visiting Antwerp, Castro had composed a set of four- and five-
voice chansons on texts by Pense himself.22 It is worth noting that the luxu-
rious manuscript, of which unfortunately only the soprano and bass
partbooks survive, was copied by Jean Pollet, once Lasso’s copyist, who
among other things had succeeded in smuggling to the Low Countries a
by Philippe de Monte, a reprint of Le Roy and Ballard’s Paris edition of the same
year. See Vanhulst, Catalogue, pp. 212–14.
21 Ignace Bossuyt, “Lassos erste Jahre in München (1556–1559): eine ‘cosa non
riuscita’? Neue Materialen aufgrund unveröffentlichter Briefe von Johann Jakob
Fugger, Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle und Orlando di Lasso,” Festschrift für
Horst Leuchtmann zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Stephan Hörner and Bernhold
Schmid (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1993), pp. 55–67.
22 Jeanice Brooks, “Jean de Castro, the Pense Partbooks and Musical Culture in
Sixteenth-Century Lyons,” Early Music History, 11 (1992), pp. 91–149.
164
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
copy of Lasso’s “secret” Penitential Psalms.23 On the death (premature, it
would seem) of Pollet’s wife, the Delft native Sara, Castro composed a
three-voice elegy, “Uxor Joannis Pollet Sara,” which appeared in the 1574
collection of Latin tricinia. The circumstances of this composition suggest
that Lasso’s motet,“Praesidium Sara,” may well have been an epithalamium
for the marriage of his copyist, Jean Pollet; this would seem to draw further
together the lives of the two composers, even if they in fact never met.24 In
any case, as composers they were very alike, chiefly because Castro’s tricinia
were so often inspired by Lasso’s models. The three-voice reworkings of
Lasso’s compositions, written during his Antwerp period, may be seen as an
indication of Lasso’s popularity. First in influence were the chansons, fol-
lowed by the motets and then the madrigals. Between 1569 and 1575 Castro
composed no fewer than thirty-one chansons on the basis of Lasso’s
models. Of the thirteen chansons in his 1569 debut collection, nine are
based on Lasso. The others appeared in the 1574 anthology cited above, La
Fleur des chansons à trois parties, and in the Livre de chansons nouvellement
composé, à troys parties, Castro’s Paris debut in 1575, an edition prepared by
Le Roy and Ballard. In each collection, eleven of the chansons are adapta-
tions of compositions by Lasso.25
Although Castro’s three-voice chansons continued to appear regu-
larly after 1575, there were to be no more arrangements. For the three-voice
madrigals precisely the opposite is true: from the earliest works in 1569
right up to his last collection in 1591, a Venetian edition published by
Amadino, Castro held fast to the technique of reworking. Here Lasso hardly
makes an appearance; in the initial Antwerp edition of 1569, not one of the
twelve madrigals originates with Lasso, as is also the case with the Madrigali
23 Ignace Bossuyt, “The Copyist Jan Pollet and the Theft in 1563 of Orlandus
Lassus’ ‘Secret’ Penitential Psalms,” From Ciconia to Sweelinck. Donum
Natalicium Willem Elders, ed. A. Clement and E. Jas (Amsterdam and Atlanta:
Rodopi, 1994), pp. 261–7.
24 Ignace Bossuyt, “Lassos Motette ‘Praesidium Sara.’ Ein epithalamium für seinen
Kopisten Jean Pollet?” Musik in Bayern 54 (1997), pp. 107–12.
25 Ignace Bossuyt, “Jean de Castro and his Three-part Chansons Modelled on
Four- and Five-Part Chansons by Orlando di Lasso. A Comparison,” Orlando di
Lasso in der Musikgeschichte. Bericht über das Symposion der Bayerischen
Akademie der Wissenschaften München, 4–6 July 1994, ed. Bernhold Schmid
(Munich: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), pp.
25–67.
165
i g nac e b o s s u y t
. . . a tre voci of 1588 (Antwerp, P. Phalèse and J. Bellère), and Rose fresche . . .
madrigali novi . . . a tre voci of 1591 (Venice, R. Amadino). Lasso provided
the model for only two of Castro’s three-voice madrigals, the lone Castro
madrigal in the anthology La Fleur des Chansons of 1574 (“Voi ch’as-
coltate”) and one of the four madrigals from his Second livre de chansons
madrigals et motetz à trois parties of 1580 (Paris, Le Roy and Ballard), where
he harks back to the sestina “Standomi un giorno.” For his madrigals,
Castro seems to have preferred as models Rore (for his 1569 debut), the
three famed Antwerp madrigal anthologies of 1583 and 1585 (Harmonia
celeste, Musica divina, and Symphonica angelica, all reflected in Castro’s
Madrigali . . . a tre voci of 1588), and Luca Marenzio (in Rose fresche of 1591).
Very likely the personal preference of the dedicatees might also have played
a deciding role in these choices.26
As with the French chansons, Castro’s borrowing of Lasso’s motets
was limited to the first few collections. In his first edition, two of the eight
motets are based on Lasso models: “Veni in hortum meum” and “In te,
Domine, speravi.” Here Castro tended to borrow compositions from an
earlier generation, with a preference for Clemens non Papa (four motets),
while Crequillon and Rore are each the source for one motet.27 Lasso does
hold the place of honor in Castro’s first collection devoted completely to
three-voice motets, the Triciniorum sacrorum . . . liber unus, a Phalèse
edition of 1574. Lasso’s works are the models for twelve of the twenty-three
motets:28 “BenedicamDominum in omni tempore,” “Ubi est Abel,” “Tribus
miraculis,” “Surgens Jesus,” “Surrexit pastor bonus,” “Confundantur
superbi,” “Fertur in conviviis,” “Exaudi Domine,” “Angelus ad pastores,”
“Fulgebunt justi,” “Verba mea auribus percipe,” and “Legem pone mihi.”
Clemens remains clearly in evidence with three motets, and even Josquin
26 J. Lanssens,”De driestemmige madrigalen van Jean de Castro,” unpublished
licentiate thesis, Leuven (1997), pp. 15–17.
27 From Clemens non Papa: “Venit vox de caelo,” “Qui consolabatur me,” “Pater
peccavi,” and “Maria Magdalena”; from Crequillon: “Nigra sum”; from Rore:
“Ad te levavi.” See Ignace Bossuyt and Saskia Willaert, “Jean de Castro’s Il Primo
Libro di Madrigali, Canzoni e Motetti,” in Eugeèn Schreurs and Henri Vanhulst,
eds., Music Fragments and Manuscripts in the Low Countries. Alta Capella. Music
Printing in Antwerp and Europe in the 16th Century. Yearbook of the Alamire
Foundation 2 (Leuven-Peer: Alamire, 1997), pp. 333–51.
28 A modern edition with an extensive introduction by Saskia Willaert and Katrien
Derde forms vol. 4 of Jean de Castro, Opera omnia. The tricinia are followed by
two four-part motets.
166
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
Desprez makes an appearance.29 As in the later French chansons, the tech-
nique of borrowing is no longer used in the later collections of three-part
motets, the Second livre de chansons madrigals et motetz a trois parties of
1580 and the two late editions from the 1590s (Cantiones aliquot sacrae
trium vocum of 1593 and Trium vocum cantiones aliquot sacrae of 1596).
At first it might seem surprising that Lasso emerges as the central
figure only in 1574 and not in 1569, when he had already achieved interna-
tional fame. The Castro editions suggest that Lasso’s motets began to enjoy
renown in the Low Countries only at the beginning of the 1570s, mainly due
to the Leuven editions of Pierre Phalèse. The following offers an overview of
the editions of Lasso’s motets published by Phalèse, the most authoritative
music publisher in the southern Netherlands from the 1560s on:
(1) In 1564 the chanson collection Quatriesme livre des chansons . . .
par Orlando di Lassus (RISM 1564d) was supplemented with four madri-
gals and three motets (the drinking song “Fertur in conviviis,” the moraliz-
ing “Quid prodest stulto,” and “Pater peccavi,” taken from the parable of the
Prodigal Son). Two of Lasso’s works were incorporated into the second
edition of the highly successful anthology Septiesme livre des chansons à
quatre parties: the chanson “Soyons joyeux” and the motet “Fertur in convi-
viis.” The motets “Fertur in conviviis” and “Pater peccavi” were dropped
from the modified reprints of the Quatriesme livre, RISM 1567c and 1570g.
Neither piece would again be included in the many reprints of the Septiesme
livre which were to follow.30
(2) In 1566 the liturgical cycle Sacrae Lectiones novem ex Propheta Job
quatuor vocum . . . autore Orlando Lasso (RISM 1566f) was published, sup-
plemented by five motets.31
(3) In 1569 the interest in Lasso clearly increased with the publication
29 From Josquin: “Benedicta es”; from Clemens: “Videns Jacob,” “Rex autem
David,” and “Verbum iniquum.” In a few sources “Verbum iniquum” is
attributed to Thomas Crequillon; cf. H. Lowen Marshall, The Four-Voice Motets
of Thomas Crecquillon, vol. 1, The Motets – A Critical Study (Brooklyn: Institute
of Medieval Music, 1970), p. 19.
30 The first edition of the Septiesme livre (1560) includes no pieces by Lasso. See
Vanhulst, Catalogue, pp. 82–4, 114–16, and passim, and idem, “Un succès de
l’édition musicale: le Septiesme livre des chansons a quatre parties
(1560–1661/63),” Belgisch Tijdschrift voor Muziekwetenschap/Revue Belge de
Musicologie, 32–3 (1978–9), pp. 97–120.
31 These Sacrae Lectiones had been published the previous year in Venice by
Gardano and in Paris by Le Roy and Ballard.
167
i g nac e b o s s u y t
of two collections of four-part motets (none the less shared with Cypriano
de Rore): Liber primus . . . and Liber secundus sacrarum cantionum quatuor
vocum . . . Auctoribus Orlando di Lassus. Cypriano de Rore (RISM 15697 and
15698). Book 1 includes seven motets by Lasso and four by Rore, while Book
2 has nine by Lasso and five by Rore.
(4) The definitive breakthrough came only in 1571–2, when Phalèse
published three collections devoted exclusively to Lasso, all of which were
reprints of editions which had appeared in Paris in 1571: Primus liber mod-
ulorum quinis vocibus, Moduli quinis vocibus, and Secundus liber modul-
orum quinis vocibus (RISM 1571d, 1571b, and 1572e). These were also
Phalèse’s first editions of Lasso’s five-voice motets.
(5) Starting in 1574, the year of Castro’s Latin tricinia, there followed
reprints of various parts of the Patrocinium Musices and an edition of
Lasso’s only book of three-voice motets (RISM 1575c).32 These publica-
tions would no longer influence Castro’s work.
We may conclude from this overview that before his debut in 1569 it
would have been difficult for Castro to get his hands on Lasso’s motets in an
edition from the Low Countries. By 1574 the situation had changed com-
pletely: Castro could draw freely from the three Phalèse editions issued in
1571 and 1572 (ten of the twelve motets based on Lasso appear in these
Leuven editions; for one of the motets, “Verba mea auribus percipe,”
Moduli quinis vocibus is in fact the earliest source). It is very likely that these
editions were his main source, even if it is impossible to rule out his aware-
ness of other foreign editions.33 None the less, the relatively modest pres-
ence of Lasso’s works as models in Castro’s 1569 debut suggests that the
promising composer was not yet familiar with Lasso’s motets. The intense
168
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
interest in Lasso in 1574 may actually have been stimulated by Castro’s col-
laboration with Lasso’s former copyist, Jean Pollet (see above).
The motet “Fertur in conviviis” deserves special mention. Castro may
already have known the work from Phalèse’s Quatriesme livre and Septiesme
livre, both from 1564. It would seem, however, that for this work too, Castro
consulted a later source: Phalèse’s Liber secundus from 1569, one of the col-
lections with four-voice motets by Lasso and Rore.A number of textual var-
iants not found in the 1564 version but which show up in Castro seem
clearly to point to the 1569 edition.34 It is striking that this is the only com-
position that Castro borrowed from the two 1569 Lasso–Rore editions. It is
also the only four-voice Lasso motet that he adapted; all the rest have five or
six voices. Moreover, he introduced his own rather major text variant into
this drinking song; the verse “Et plus quam ecclesiam diligam tabernam”
(And more than the church do I love the tavern) is modified to “Et plus
quam rem medicam diligam tabernam”(And more than healing medicines
do I love the tavern). This could be intended as an inside joke shared with
the nobleman and military figure, Charles de Melun, to whom the 1574
Latin tricinia were dedicated and who, according to a number of sources,
fell ill often and suffered from gout.35
Castro’s three-part adaptations of Lasso’s four- to six-voice motets
are no mere reductions of the originals, but intriguing works in their own
right, in which he shows evidence of a strong personal engagement as com-
poser. Generally speaking, the reworked pieces correspond to the originals
in three ways:
(1) The clefs of the tricinia match the three highest clefs from the
model; the combinations are either c1–c3–c4, or g2–c2–c3. The exceptions
are two motets in the 1569 edition, “Veni in hortum meum” (Lasso
c1–c3–c4–c4–f4, Castro g2–c2–c3) and “In te, Domine, speravi” (Lasso g2–
g2–c2–c3–c3–f3, Castro g2–c1–c3).
(2) The division into partes is identical, except in “Fertur in conviviis”
(Lasso uses only double barlines, with no indication of partes).
(3) The mode is maintained, with the exception of “Veni in hortum
34 See Bernhold Schmid, “Lasso’s ‘Fertur in conviviis’: On the History of its Text
and Transmission” in the present volume. My thanks to Dr. Schmid for
permitting me to consult his work prior to publication.
35 See the Introduction to Jean de Castro, Opera omnia, vol. 4, pp. 10–12.
169
i g nac e b o s s u y t
meum,” which is transposed from the second to the first mode as a result of
its higher clef combination. While Castro’s chansons and madrigals some-
times end on a note other than the finalis (usually the fifth), this is not the
case in the motets. The only deviation is the conclusion of the prima pars of
“In te, Domine, speravi” (G in Lasso, C in Castro). (See Table 8.1.)
The essentials of Castro’s working methods can best be shown by a few
representative examples. Literal borrowing from the model, in the form of
“vertical citations” – the basic procedure in parody masses – occurs rarely.
Castro takes as his point of departure a theme similar if not identical to
170
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
Lasso’s original, and then proceeds to construct a new musical argument.
Generally speaking, the model is clearly recognizable in the exordium,
although he sometimes withholds an explicit reference until a few measures
have passed. In the initial entries of “Surgens Jesus” (Ex. 8.1), “Surrexit
pastor bonus” (Ex. 8.2), and“Angelus ad pastores ait” (Ex. 8.3), the melodic
borrowing is abundantly clear. In contrast, the motets “Gustate et videte”
(Ex. 8.4) and“Tribus miraculis” (Ex. 8.5) begin without a particularly strik-
ing relationship to the model, but similarities soon enough make them-
selves evident. The descending three-note motive (g⬘–e⬘–d⬘ in the cantus)
on the word “Gustate” is borrowed directly from the cantus in mm. 6–7 of
Lasso’s motet; only in the second half of m. 4 does Castro take up Lasso’s
opening motive (g⬘–a⬘–b⬘–g⬘–b⬘–d⬙ with the cadence). The similarity to
the original at the beginning of“Tribus miraculis”is again less than obvious,
until the entry of Lasso’s cantus appears in mm.7–9 (c⬙–e⬙–f⬙–d⬙–c⬙).
A comparison of a few clearly similar fragments, such as the openings
of “Surgens Jesus,” “Surrexit pastor bonus,” and “Angelus ad pastores ait,”
immediately reveals a number of striking differences which also show up in
the other works. Castro’s melismatic lines are generally more jagged and
less flowing than Lasso’s. These somewhat angular contours are partially
the result of frequent octave leaps (Ex. 8.1b, cantus, mm. 1–2), making these
melismas – which tend to be designed to function as text expression – more
exuberant and emphatic than Lasso’s, even if perhaps less expansive (as on
the word “Surgens”). Castro’s desire for a mode of expression even stronger
and more direct than Lasso’s is also evident in his transformation of syllabic
delivery into melisma (as in “Surrexit pastor bonus,”Ex. 8.2b).
A second striking difference is the frequent use of accidentals in
Castro’s work, which often leads to cross-relations and rapid alternation
between chords with major and minor thirds. A typical example is the
opening of “Angelus ad pastores ait” (Ex. 8.3). In Lasso’s exordium the only
accidental, apart from the b in the key signature, is the f in the final chord;
Castro uses both b and b, as well as f and f (the latter not only in the final
chord).
Thirdly, Castro strives more than Lasso for simultaneous rhythmic
contrasts through the layering of extremely different note values, as on the
word “stans” in “Surgens Jesus” (Ex. 8.1b; compare with Lasso, Ex. 8.6).
Castro will often combine a long note and a melismatic passage. Examples
171
i g nac e b o s s u y t
˙. œ œ œ ˙.
& 24 ˙ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙
1
(a)
œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
Sur - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - gens, sur - - - gens Je -
4 ∑ ∑ ∑ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. œ ˙
&2 ˙.
Sur - - - - - - - - -
4 ∑ ∑ ˙ œ œœ ˙
&2 ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ w
Sur - - - - - - - - - gens Je - - - - - -
4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
V2
? 24 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
˙
6
& œ œœ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙
- - - sus, sur - - - - gens Je - - - - - - - sus, sur - - - -
&
˙ w œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w Ó œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
gens Je - - - - - - - - - - sus, sur - - - - - gens
& ˙. œ œ œ œ ˙ j
œœ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ. œ ˙ w
sus, sur - - - - - gens Je - - - - - sus,
œ œ ˙ . œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
V ˙. œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙. ˙ w
Sur - - - - - - - - - - - - gens Je - sus,
˙
? ∑ ∑ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w
Sur - - - - - - - - gens Je - sus,
˙. ˙. ˙ ˙
4 œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙. œœ˙
1
(b)
&2 Ó ˙ œ œ œ œ
Sur - - - - - - - - gens, sur - - - gens, sur - - - - - - - -
4 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
&2 œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙. ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ
Sur - - - - - - - gens, sur - - - - - - gens, sur - - - - - -
œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
V 24 ∑ ˙. w w ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ
Sur - - - - - - - - - gens, sur - - - - - - -
6
˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ Ó w ˙ ˙ ˙ w W
&
gens Ie - sus Do - mi - nus, Do - mi - nus no - ster, stans
& ˙ w ˙ Ó ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ
œ œ
gens Ie sus Do - mi - nus no - - - - - - - - ster, stans,
w w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ w ˙
V w w Ó
gens Ie - sus Do - - - mi - nus no - ster, stans
11
W W W
& ˙. œ w
in me - di - o
& w Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ w ˙ œ œ ˙.
#œ œ ˙
stans in me - di - o, stans in me - di - o
œ œ œ œ œ ˙ #˙ w ˙ n
˙ ˙
V œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
in me - di - o dis - ci - pu -
Example 8.1: (a) Lasso, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 1–9; (b) Castro, “Surgens
Jesus,” mm. 1–14
172
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
(a) 4
1
w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ
&2 w
Sur - re - - xit pas - tor bo - - - nus, sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - - - - nus,
4 ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w
&2 ∑ Ó ˙ w. ˙ ∑ ∑ w ∑
Sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - - - nus, sur - - -
& 24 ∑ w. ˙ ˙ ˙ w W w ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙
w
Sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - nus, sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - - -
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w
V 24 ∑ ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ w w w
Sur - re - - xit pas - tor bo - - - nus,
?4 w. ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ˙
2 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ Ó
Sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - nus, sur -
4 œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w. ˙ ˙ ˙
1
(b)
&2 „ ∑ w ˙. Ó ˙
Sur - re - - - - - xit pas - tor bo - - - nus, sur - re - xit
& 24 ˙. œ œ œ
w ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ œ œ
w
Sur - re - - - - xit pas - - - tor bo - nus, sur - re - xit pas - tor bo -
4 ˙. œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
V2 „ „ „ ∑ Ó ˙
Sur - re - - - - - xit pas - tor
#
7
˙ w ˙ ˙
& w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w w ∑
pas - tor bo - nus, sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - - - - - - - nus,
& ˙. œ œ œ ˙ w ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙. œœ ˙ ˙ ˙ #˙ w Ó ˙ ˙. œ
- - - - nus, sur - re - xit pas - tor bo - - - - - - nus, qui a - ni -
w ˙ ˙ w w w ˙ ˙. œ ˙ œ œ
V w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ Ó
bo - - - - nus, sur - re - - - xit pas - tor bo - nus, qui a - ni- mam su -
Example 8.2: (a) Lasso, “Surrexit pastor bonus,” mm. 1–7; (b) Castro,
“Surrexit pastor bonus,” mm. 1–12
8.7a (Lasso) and 8.7b (Castro) from the same motet provide a further illus-
tration of this process: in the lowest voice, Castro cites the bass from Lasso’s
motet on the words “Pax vobis,” but in contrast to his exemplar, he has the
other voices run on in melismas rather than according them similarly
drawn-out notes. Such simultaneous contrast does occur in Lasso, but on a
more modest scale, as for example on “ut salvum me fac”(in “In te, Domine,
speravi,” Ex. 8.8a). Castro (Ex. 8.8b) picks up Lasso’s descending third on
“ut salvum,” but augments the semibreves into breves and accompanies
them with an extensive melisma with octave leaps in the cantus. Similarly,
Castro will often exceed Lasso in highlighting the rhythmic contrasts
between successive fragments through diminution (Ex. 8.9, on “accelera”in
173
i g nac e b o s s u y t
4 ˙. œ w U
˙ ˙ œœw
1
(a)
&b 2 ∑ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ w ˙ W
An - ge - lus ad pas - to - res a - - - it, ad pas - to - res a - - - - it:
U
& b 24 ∑ Ó
˙ ˙ ˙ w w w ˙ w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œœœ ˙ ˙ w #W
An - ge - lus ad pas - to - res a - it, ad pas - to - - - res a - it:
U
4
V b 2 w. ˙ ˙. œ w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w w w
W W W
An - ge - lus ad pas - to - - res a - - - - - - it:
U
4
Vb 2 ∑ w. ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ Ó ˙ œœ œ œ ˙ w ˙ W W
An - ge - lus ad pas - to - res, ad pas - - - to - res a - - - it:
? b 24 ∑ ∑ w ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ w W
U
W
w w W
An - ge - lus ad pas - to - - - res a - - - it:
1
(b) 4
&b 2 „ „ w. ˙ n˙ . œ w Ó
w ˙
An - - - ge - lus, an - ge -
4 w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ
Vb 2 ∑ Ó
An - - - ge - lus ad pas - to - res, an - - - ge - lus,
V b 24 w . ˙ n˙ . œ ˙ ˙ ˙ n˙ w Ó w ˙ ˙. œ ˙
˙
An - ge - lus ad pas - to - res, an - ge - lus, an -
6 U
& b #˙. œ w Ó w ˙ ˙ ˙ w W W
lus ad pas - to - res a - - - it :
˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ #œ œ w W
U
Vb w ˙ ˙
an - ge - lus ad pas - to - res a - it :
U
Vb ˙ œ ˙ w ˙ w
˙ #˙ . ˙ ˙ W W
- ge - lus ad pas - to - res a - - - it :
Example 8.3: (a) Lasso, “Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 1–8; (b) Castro,
“Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 1–10
“In te, Domine, speravi”) or augmentation (Ex. 8.10,“quia natus est vobis,”
in “Angelus ad pastores ait”).
Finally, Castro exceeds Lasso in his preference for short motivic units,
especially on single words. Although Lasso does often employ rhythmically
succinct syllabic motives, he tends, at least in the motets, to show a prefer-
ence for longer, more delicately balanced melodic phrases.This is evident in
the initial entry of “Confundantur superbi” (Ex. 8.11) and the second part
of “Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam” on the words “Ne avertas faciem tuam a
me” (Ex. 8.12). Lasso sets “Confundantur superbi” to a melismatic, evenly
designed theme; Castro begins by focusing all attention on the word
“Confundantur,” eventually followed by “superbi.” The approach is similar
for “Ne avertas faciem tuam a me”: instead of one overarching theme,
174
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
# # n
& 24 „ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
1
(a)
∑ w w w w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ
Gus - - - ta - - te et vi - de - - - te, gus - ta - te et vi -
# #
4 ∑ Ó
&2 W w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ w w w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Gus - ta - te et vi - de - - - te, et vi - de - - - te, et vi - de -
4
V2 „ „ „ „ ∑ w w w ˙ w ˙
Gus - - - - ta - te et vi -
# #
V 24 „ „ „ W w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ ˙ ˙ w
Gus - - - ta - te et vi - de - - - te, gus - ta -
? 24 „ „ „ „ „ „ ∑ w
Gus -
& 24 „ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w
(b) 1
∑ w w w w w w
w
Gus - - - ta - te, gus - - - ta - te et vi - de - - - te, gus - ta -
4 ˙ . #œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙ w
V2 W w w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ ∑ w
Gus - ta - te et vi - de - - - - - - - te, gus - ta - - - - te, gus -
4 w
V2 „ „ „ W w w W w ˙ ˙ w
Gus - - - ta - te, gus - - - ta - te et vi - de -
Example 8.4: (a) Lasso, “Gustate et videte,” mm. 1–7; (b) Castro, “Gustate et
videte,” mm. 1–8
Castro splits the text into three separate fragments (“Ne avertas – faciem
tuam – a me”), clearly delineated by the text repetitions.
The result of these differences is a more nervous and very dynamic
musical narrative, which adds a Baroque flavor to Lasso’s models and which
clearly accords with some contemporary madrigal writing (for example,
the generous use of accidentals recalls Rore). Castro was unquestionably
attempting to overcome and in a sense leave behind the limitations, both
harmonic and contrapuntal, dictated by a three-voiced texture.At the same
time, we may characterize Castro as developing to the full Lasso’s composi-
tional processes (melodic progression, rhythm, harmony, etc.) in order to
surpass the original, since imitatio went hand-in-hand with emulatio:
admiration for the imitated model was matched by a certain urge to
compete. This was without a doubt a major challenge for Castro, consider-
ing that he was only at the beginning of his career and, moreover, was
becoming a specialist in the tricinium. He seems to have seen the Antwerp
period of 1569–76 as a sort of apprenticeship, affording him the chance
to master French, Italian, and Latin tricinia as arrangements of more
175
i g nac e b o s s u y t
w. ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙. œœ˙ ˙ w
(a) 4
&2 W ˙ œ œ œ œ
1
w ˙
Tri - bus mi - ra - - - - - - - cu - lis or - na - tum di - -
& 24 ∑ w w ˙. œœ œ œ œ œ œ œœœœœœ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ
w w
Tri - - bus mi - ra - - - - - - - - - cu - lis or - na - tum
4 œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
&2 ∑ w w w w
bw ˙ ∑ Ó
˙
Tri - - bus mi - ra - - - - - - - - - cu - lis or -
4 Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ w
V2 „ „ „ „ ∑
or - na - tum di - -
w ˙ ˙ ˙.
? 24 „ „ „ „ ∑ œœ
or - na - tum di - -
(b) 4
1
˙. w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
&2 Ó w ˙ ˙ œ ˙ Ó
Tri - bus mi - ra - cu - lis, tri - bus mi - ra - cu - lis or - na - tum
& 24 ∑ w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ w w w b˙ . œ ˙ ˙
Tri - - - bus mi - ra - cu - lis or - na - tum di -
4 w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙
V2 W w w bw ˙ ˙
Tri - - - - - - bus mi - ra - - - cu - lis or - - na - tum
6
˙. œ w w ˙ w. ˙ ˙. œ w
& Ó
di - - - - - - - em, tri - bus mi - ra - cu - lis
& œ œ œ ˙ w Ó w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
- - - em, tri - bus mi - - - ra - - - cu - lis or -
œ W Ó ˙ b˙ . œ ˙
V w œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙
di - - - em, tri - bus mi - ra - cu - lis or -
Example 8.5: (a) Lasso, “Tribus miraculis,” mm. 1–6; (b) Castro, “Tribus
miraculis,” mm. 1–9
4 W22
∑ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
&2 ˙
stans in me - - - di - o dis - - - ci - pu - lo - rum su - o -
4 ˙ w
&2 W w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ #˙
ster, stans in me - - - di - o dis - - - ci - pu - lo - rum su - -
& 24 W W W ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w. ˙
ster, stans in me - di - o dis - ci - - - pu -
4 ˙ ˙ ˙ w
V2 w w w ∑ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w
ster, stans in me - di - o dis - - - ci - - - pu - lo - -
?4 w W ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙
2 ∑ ˙ ˙
ster, stans in me - di - o dis - ci - pu - lo - rum su - o -
176
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
(a) 4
31 w w w w w
&2 ∑ w ∑
Pax vo - - - - - - bis, al - - -
& 24 W W w w ˙ œ œ w
Pax vo - - - - - - - - - - - -
4
&2 W W w w W
Pax vo - - - - - bis,
4 W w. Ó ˙ w w Ó ˙
V2 ˙
Pax vo - - - bis, pax vo - - bis al -
W W W W
? 24
Pax vo - - - - - - - - - - bis,
(b)
4 œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. ˙ Œ œ œ œ œ œ
21
Ó ˙. #˙ #œ œ ˙
&2 œ œ œ
Pax vo - - - - - - - - bis, al - le - - -
& 42 Ó ˙. œ œ œ w Ó
˙
˙. œ œ w ˙ ˙
œ œ œ œ
Pax, pax vo - - - - - - bis, al - le - - -
4 W W ∑
V2 W w
Pax vo - - - - - - - - - - - bis,
Example 8.7: (a) Lasso, “Surgens Jesus,” mm. 31–4; (b) Castro, “Surgens
Jesus,” mm. 21–4
w w œ œ œ œ w w
& 42
(a) 66
∑ ∑
ut sal - - - vum, ut
4 w w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ∑
&2
ut sal - - - vum me fa - - - - - ci - as,
& 42 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑
mum re - fu - gi - i, ut sal - - - vum me fa - ci - as,
w ˙ w ˙ ˙
V 42 ˙ w w w w
re - - - fu - gi - i, ut sal - - - vum me fa - ci -
4 ˙ ˙
V2 w ˙ ˙ w ∑ ∑ Ó w ˙
re - - - fu - gi - i, ut sal - vum
?4 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ∑ ∑ w w w
2 w
mum re - fu - gi - i, ut sal - vum
4 ˙ ˙ #˙ w œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
45
&2 ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ
(b)
œ œ œ œ
- ci - as, ut sal - vum me fa - ci - as, ut sal - vum,
& 24 ˙ # ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œœ œ
œ œœ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ w Ó w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
˙
- ci - as, ut sal - vum me fa - ci- as, ut sal - vum, ut sal - vum,
4 ˙. œ w w w w w w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w
V2 ∑ Ó ˙
fa - ci- as, ut sal - - - - vum me fa - ci - as, ut
Example 8.8: (a) Lasso, “In te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 66–9; (b) Castro, “In
te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 45–50
i g nac e b o s s u y t
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ W W w
& 24 Ó
44
(a) #˙ ∑
in - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - - - - am ac -
4 w ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ˙
&2 ∑ ∑ ˙
in - - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - - - - am, ac -
& 24 œ œ # ˙ ˙ Œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙
- am, in - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - - - - am, ac -
#
w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w
V 24 ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
ad me au - rem tu - am, ad me au - rem tu - - - - - am,
4 w ˙
V2 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w w
ad me au - rem tu - am, ad me au - rem tu - - - - am,
?4 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w w
2 ˙ ˙
au - rem tu - am in - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - - - - am,
˙. œ ˙ œ œ ˙. œœ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙. œ w
œ œ œ œ ˙
49
& Ó
ce - le - ra ut e - ru - as me, ac - ce - le- ra:
& ˙. œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œœ˙ w Ó ˙ ˙. œ w
ce - le - ra ut e - - - - ru - as me, ac - ce - le- ra:
& ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w Ó ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
˙ œ œ œ œ
ce - le - ra ut e - - - - - ru - as me, ac - ce - le- ra: ut
˙ ˙. œ w w
V ∑ ∑ ∑ Ó
ac - ce - le - ra ut
V ∑ ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙. œ w Ó w ˙
ac - ce - le - ra ut e -
? ∑ ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙. œ w w
ac - ce - le - ra ut
4
26
˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ. œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙
&2 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ Œ œ œ. œ
(b)
J J
rem tu - am, in - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - - - am, ac - ce - le- ra, ac - ce - le- ra ut e - ru - as me.
4
&2 ˙ ˙ w Ó ˙ w Œ œ œ . œj ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙.
rem tu - am, in - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - am, ac - ce - le - ra ut e - ru - as me.
˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙
V 24 ∑ Ó ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w Œ œ œ . œj ˙ Œ œ œ. œ
J
in - cli - na ad me au - rem tu - am, ac - ce - le - ra, ac - ce - le- ra ut e - ru - as me.
Example 8.9: (a) Lasso, “In te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 44–53; (b) Castro, “In
te, Domine, speravi,” mm. 26–31
178
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
(a) 23
4 œ w w
&b 2 w ∑ ∑ w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ w w. ˙ ˙. ∑
num, qui - a na - tus est no - bis ho - di - e
& b 24 W w ∑ W ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ w
∑ Ó ˙ #˙ ˙
mag - - - num, qui - - - a na - tus est no - bis, qui - a na -
4 w
Vb 2 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ bœ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w. ˙ W Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œœ
qui - a na - tus est no - bis ho - di - e, qui - a na - tus est no -
n n
4 w ˙ w ˙ ˙ w w ˙ b˙
Vb 2 w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ˙
num, qui - a na - tus est no - bis ho - di -
? b 24 Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙. œ W ∑ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
qui - a na - tus est no - bis ho - di - e, qui - a na - tus est no -
#
(b) 23
4 œ œ ˙
&b 2 w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ œ ˙. œ ˙
est, qui - a na - tus est vo - - - - - - - -
V b 24 W w w w w ˙ ˙ w
qui - - - - - - - a na - - - - tus est
n
4 .
Vb 2 w Ó ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œœ w w
qui - a na - tus est vo - - -
27
#
&b ˙ #˙ w W w w ˙ ˙ w
- bis, qui - - - - - - a na - - - - tus est,
˙ ˙ #˙ ˙. œ
Vb w œ œ nœ œ w Ó ˙ w ˙
vo - bis, qui - - - a na - tus est, qui - - - a
˙ ˙ ˙
Vb w
Ó ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ ˙
bis, qui - a na - tus est, qui - - - a na - tus
Example 8.10: (a) Lasso, “Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 23–9; (b) Castro,
“Angelus ad pastores ait,” mm. 23–30
tions, some having four or six parts, and one no fewer than ten (“Cum sero
esset”). The 1596 tricinia (Trium vocum cantiones aliquot sacrae) are again
almost all sizeable compositions in four to six parts. The same evolution
towards monumentality may be seen in the French chanson. Moreover,
Castro confirmed his very original contribution to the French tricinium by
the fact that he himself probably supplied texts for some of the works.36 It
179
i g nac e b o s s u y t
4 w
1
˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙
œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ
(a) ˙
&2
Con - fun - dan - - - tur su - per - - - - - - - - - - - bi, su -
4 œ ˙
&2 ∑ w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ
Con - fun - dan - - - tur su - - - - - per - - - - -
& 24 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ w
Con -
V 24 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
2
6
˙ w ˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ ˙
& Ó œ œ œ œ ˙ w ˙. ˙ ˙
- per - bi, con - fun - dan - - - tur su - per - - - - - bi, con -
& œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
- - - - - - - - bi, con - fun - dan - - - - - tur su -
& ˙ Ó
œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ #œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙
fun - dan - - - - - - - tur su - per - - - - - - - - bi, con -
w ˙ ˙ w ˙
V ∑ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ Ó
Con - fun - dan - - - tur su - per - - - bi, con - fun -
? ∑ ∑ w ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
Con - fun - dan - - - tur su - per - - - bi,
w ˙ œ œ ˙
& 24 „ œ œ ˙ ˙
1
(b) ˙ w ˙
Con - - - fun - dan - - - - tur, con - - - fun - - - dan -
4 ˙
&2 Ó w ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
Ó œ œ œ œ ˙ w #˙
Con - - - fun - dan - - - - tur, con - fun - - - - - - - dan -
w ˙
V 24
˙ œ œ œ œ w w Ó ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙
Con - - - fun - dan - - - - tur, con - fun - dan - - - -
5 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
&˙ Ó ∑ Œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ
tur su - per - - - - - - - - - bi, con - fun -
œ ˙ œ
&œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ #˙ w
tur su - per - - - - - - - - - bi, con - fun - dan - tur su - per - bi,
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙
Vœ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ Œ œ
tur su - per - - - - - - - - - - bi, con - fun - dan - tur su - per - bi, con -
Example 8.11: (a) Lasso, “Confundantur superbi,” mm. 1–10; (b) Castro,
“Confundantur superbi,” mm. 1–7
180
l as s o a s a m o d e l f o r c o m p o s i t i o n
(a) 67
4 ˙ w w ˙ œ œœ œ œ w w ˙.
& b 2 w. ˙. œ ˙ œ ˙ w ˙ W
Ne a - ver - tas fa - ci - em tu - - - - - - - am a me
& b 24 „ ∑ Ó œ
˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w
Ne a - ver - tas fa - ci - em tu - am a
4
Vb 2 „ „ „ „ „ „ Ó
w ˙
Ne a -
4 w ˙ ˙. œ œ ˙.
Vb 2 „ „ „ ˙ w w w ˙ ˙ œ
Ne a - ver - tas fa - ci - em tu - - -
? b 24 „ „ „ „ ∑ Ó ˙ ˙. œ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ w
Ne a - ver - tas fa - ci - em
& b 24 „ Ó w
42
(b) „ „ ˙ W Ó
w ˙ ˙ ˙ w
Ne a - ver - - - tas, ne a - ver -
4 w. ˙ w ˙. œ œ ˙ w ˙ ˙ #˙ ˙ w. w
Vb 2 ˙ ˙ œ œœ˙ w ∑
Ne a - ver - tas, ne a - ver - tas, ne a - ver - - tas, ne
V b 24 „ ∑ w ˙ ˙ w w ∑ Ó
w ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
Ne a - ver - tas, ne a - ver - tas, ne a - ver -
.
&b ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙
49
˙ ˙ ˙. œ œ ˙
˙ Ó w ∑
˙. œ
w Ó ˙
tas fa - ci- em tu - am, ne a - ver - tas fa - ci- em tu - am a me, ne
˙ ˙ w w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ #˙
Vb Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
a - ver - tas fa - ci - em tu - am, ne a - ver - tas fa - ci - em tu - am a me, ne de - cli -
Vb w ∑ Ó w ˙ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w W w ∑
˙. œ
tas, ne a - ver - tas fa - ci- em tu - am a me,
Example 8.12: (a) Lasso, “Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam,” mm. 67–73; (b)
Castro, “Exaudi, Domine, vocem meam,” mm. 42–55
may be that in the madrigal he felt less need to be original, since at the end of
the century the three-part madrigal continued to hold an established place
in the repertory and required no further legitimation. This might explain
his tendency to remain true to the process of arrangement in this genre,
whereby compositions by masters such as Luca Marenzio could become
available in lively and highly idiosyncratic versions for three voices. In this
sense, Castro’s tricinia, which were clearly intended as intimate household
music for the bourgeoisie and nobility (especially in Antwerp), functioned
as a kind of publicity for the composers on whose compositions they were
based. One would expect that in this context it would be next to impossible
to ignore Lasso. And yet Castro’s oeuvre seems to suggest that in the
181
i g nac e b o s s u y t
southern Netherlands, with Antwerp as the economic and cultural center
and Leuven as the music publishing center, Lasso enjoyed his greatest fame
as a composer of chansons, and that his motets began to be noticed only
starting in the 1570s, while almost no attention was paid to his madrigals.
Castro’s tricinia thus turn out to be not unimportant puzzle pieces in the
documentation of the reception of the work by the most celebrated com-
poser of the late Renaissance, while they are also fascinating music in their
own right, the intrinsic musical qualities of which deserve, in my opinion,
greater attention.
182
9 The madrigal book of Jean Turnhout (1589) and
its relationship to Lasso
james haar
183
ja m e s h a a r
pieces for which no other setting is known. That Lasso’s works were a source
for Turnhout is clear; the reasons behind Turnhout’s choice are the subject
of this inquiry.2
Jean, or Jan, Turnhout is an example of a Netherlandish composer
who apparently never left his native land. He held positions of importance
in Malines and Brussels, but he seems during a long life to have been a singer
and chapelmaster first, a composer only secondarily. His life is not well doc-
umented; information about him gathered by Van der Straeten and inter-
preted by Van Doorslaer is repeated without change in modern lexicons.3
His name appears to have been Jan Jacobs; he and his brother Gérard, also a
composer, were natives of Turnhout, a town some twenty-five miles north-
east of Antwerp. He would seem to have been born c. 1545–1550 and was
still alive in 1618. Nothing is known of his musical training, but Antwerp
seems the most logical place for it (later, in all probability, than Lasso’s
Antwerp stay of 1554–6). His older brother Gérard became choirmaster at
the Church of Our Lady (Ons-Lieve-Vrouw; from 1559 the cathedral) in
Antwerp in 1562, making it likely that Jean Turnhout would have been
there as a singer. If he was in Antwerp he may also have known Séverin
Cornet, who succeeded Gérard Turnhout as cathedral choirmaster in
1572.4
In 1577 Jean Turnhout, said to be “bruxellensis, clericus conjugatus,”
was named choirmaster at the Cathedral of St. Rombaut in Malines; if he
had been a singer in Antwerp he had evidently moved at some point to
2 Lasso’s Libro Terzo, published by Antonio Barrè in Rome in 1563, was reprinted
in Venice in that year and in editions of 1564, 1566, 1567, 1570, 1573, and 1586;
Libro Quarto (Venice, 1567) was reissued in 1570, 1584, and 1593. For reasons
that this study should make clear I assume that the two books reached the
Netherlands in the 1560s. One text used by Turnhout, “Occhi piangete,” was in
Lasso’s Primo Libro a 4 of 1560; it had already appeared in his ‘op. 1’ Antwerp
print of 1555.
3 Edmond van der Straeten, La Musique aux Pays-Bas avant le xixe siècle, 8 vols.
(Brussels, 1867–88; repr. New York, 1969), vol. 1, pp. 237–48 et passim; G. van
Doorslaer, “Jean van Turnhout, compositeur, maître de chapelle, à Malines et à
Bruxelles, 1545? après 1618,” Musica Sacra, 42 (1935), pp. 218–49. The
biographical information on Turnhout given here is taken from those two
sources unless otherwise specified.
4 See Kristine K. Forney, “Music, Ritual and Patronage at the Church of Our Lady,
Antwerp,” Early Music History, 7 (1987), p. 38. Jean Turnhout could have been in
Antwerp before 1562 as a boy singer.
184
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
Brussels, perhaps as a member of the chapel of Margaret of Austria, regent
of the Netherlands from 1559 to 1567, or her successors the Duke of Alva
(1567–73), Don Luis Requesens (1573–6), and Don Juan of Austria
(1576–8).5 Malines, though newly created as a diocese, was now the prima-
tial see of the Netherlands; its archbishop was Antoine Perrenot de
Granvelle, a powerful diplomat and art patron to whom we will return.
Turnhout had evidently acquired a reputation, especially if it is true that
Granvelle took the appointment of a choirmaster as seriously as that of a
suffragan bishop.6
Ferocious religious war disrupted life at Malines completely;
Turnhout probably left the city about 1580. Once again his whereabouts are
unknown for a time, until 1586 when he became choirmaster at the Brussels
chapel of Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma and governor-general of the
Netherlands, son of Ottavio Farnese and Margaret of Austria. Here he
remained until his death, sometime after 1618.
Turnhout’s surviving music consists of the six-voice madrigal book
of 1589, a volume of motets published in 1594, and a few scattered individ-
ual pieces, including a six-voice madrigal published in the Antwerp anthol-
ogy Melodia Olympica (RISM 159110).7 A volume of five-voice madrigals,
cited by Gerber and nineteenth-century scholars as published in Douai in
1559 [=1595], is not extant though its existence does not seem improb-
able.8 Turnhout remained as chapelmaster in Brussels after the death of
5 It is worth noting that Séverin Cornet was a choirmaster at Malines from 1564
to 1572. See New Grove s.v., “Cornet,” by Donna Cardamone.
6 This is said by Maurice Piquard in “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, les artistes et les
écrivains,” Revue belge d’archéologie et d’histoire de l’art, 17 (1947–8), pp. 138–9.
No source is given, but Piquard’s article is based on study of Granvelle papers
and letters in the municipal library of Besançon.
7 The madrigal, “Vorria parlare e dire,” uses a text set by Marenzio (Libro Primo
delle villanelle a 3, Venice, 1584). See the Appendix, no. 9.
8 E. L. Gerber, Historisch-Biographisches Lexikon der Tonkünstler (1812–1814), ed.
Othmar Wesseley [along with the earlier version of the work], 4 vols. (Graz:
Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1966–79), vol. 2, p. 119. F.-J. Fétis,
Biographie universelle des musiciens et bibliographie générale de la musique, 2nd
ed., 8 vols. (Paris, 1873–80; repr. Brussels, 1972), vol. 8, p. 275, corrects Gerber’s
date for the five-voice book and says it is to be found in Munich; Alphonse
Goovaerts, Histoire et bibliographie de la typographie musicale dans les Pays-Bas
(Antwerp, 1880), p. 225, follows Fétis. The volume is apparently not to be found
today at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek.
185
ja m e s h a a r
Alessandro Farnese (1592); he wrote a mass for the entry of Archduke Ernst
into Antwerp in 1594, and was still in the chapel, sharing duties (because of
advanced age?) with Géry Ghersem in his later years.9
Our cast of characters, Jean Turnhout and several of his patrons, has
now been assembled. A closer look at these patrons and at Lasso’s relation-
ship to them is now in order. Most prominent in the list is Antoine Perrenot
de Granvelle (1517–86), Archdeacon of Besançon, Bishop of Arras (1538),
Cardinal-Archbishop of Malines (1561–82), and a lifelong servant of the
Habsburgs, first Charles V and then Philip II.10 Granvelle, whose father was
a trusted counsellor of Charles V, began his ecclesiastical career early,
becoming a bishop at the age of twenty-one; throughout his life he sought
ecclesiastic preferment as a means of furthering a career hampered by his
lack of noble birth.11 Students of his career differ about his personality and
sometimes about his motives, but his very considerable intelligence and
diplomatic talents are universally admired. He served Charles V more or
less in his father’s place; by the time of Charles’s abdication in 1555
Granvelle had become the leading representative, regent in all but name, of
the Habsburgs in the Netherlands.
With increasing power came increasing wealth. Granvelle built a
splendid house in Brussels and acquired villas outside that city and near
Antwerp.12 He commissioned paintings and other works of art, and it is
said that at least a hundred literary works were dedicated to him. He was
186
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
clearly interested in music as well.13 Tielman Susato dedicated his motet
series Liber . . . ecclesiasticarum cantionum of 1553 to Granvelle;
Manchicourt’s Liber Quintus (1554) of motets is also dedicated to him.
Even at the end of his career music prints were still addressed to him; an
example is Conversi’s Libro primo de madrigali a 6 (1584). For us the most
significant volume of music addressed to Granvelle is Lasso’s Primo libro de
motetti, published in Antwerp in 1556. Lasso’s dedicatory letter, in Italian
like the title of the book, says that he is emboldened to write because the
“gravissime orecchie” of Granvelle “dilettino de la mia musica”; he is grate-
ful for the “molti beneficij, e segnalati favori” that he has received “tutto il
giorno” from his patron. After allowances are made for the flowery (and
hopeful?) dedicatory prose, it would seem that this letter is evidence of a
more than casual relationship.14 A suggestion of something like real friend-
ship is the report that Granvelle learned of the theft of a manuscript of
Lasso’s music and concerned himself with its recovery.15
At the end of his letter Lasso asks Granvelle to read the Latin text of the
opening motet, written in his honor. The motet text contains the phrase
“musarum famulum ne despice, sustine Lassum,” a punning reference to
the composer’s name heightened in the music by a single occurrence of the
la-sol solmization figure.16 Lasso probably knew that Manchicourt’s motet
volume of 1554 also begins with a text, “O decus o patriae lux,” honoring
Granvelle. Other composers wrote pieces for him; both Adrian Willaert and
Cipriano de Rore composed motets, on the same text, “O socii neque
enim/Per varios casus,” in praise of Granvelle and referring in the cantus
187
ja m e s h a a r
firmus to his Vergilian motto “Durate.” Though not published until 1566
(after both composers’ deaths) the works were clearly written earlier,
perhaps at the time of Granvelle’s appointment to the see of Malines and
elevation to the cardinalate (1561).17
EvidencepresentedbyIgnaceBossuytshowsthatGranvelledidindeed
take more than a passing interest in Lasso.18 He may, in conjunction with
Hans Jakob Fugger, have been instrumental in getting Lasso appointed as
singer at the Bavarian ducal court in the fall of 1556; two letters from Fugger
to Granvelle speak of Lasso’s journey to and arrival in Munich.19 In March of
1558 Granvelle wrote to Lasso, acknowledging receipt of some music and
asking for more from the composer.A newly discovered letter from Lasso to
Granvelle (April 1559),in which several pieces of music were enclosed,hints
strongly that Lasso would consider moving to a new place. Granvelle’s reply
(May 1559) counsels prudence – the composer,he says,had a good post,after
all.20 If Lasso was interested in the newly available position at the Spanish
court in Madrid it was too late; the job went to Manchicourt.And in October
1559, Pierre du Hotz was named director of the chapel of Margaret of
Austria, the new regent of the Netherlands; this is another position Lasso
might well have considered.21 Granvelle had many people to please. In 1560
Lasso made a trip to the Netherlands looking for singers to engage for the
chapelinMunich.WhetherhesawGranvellewedonotknow,butheheardby
letter from the regent (with Granvelle behind her?) thatLassowas to remem-
ber that the interests of Philip II in Flemish musicians must be served first.22
The composer returned to Munich without having recruited any singers.
17 The cantus-firmus text, the single word “Durate,” is taken from a device of
Granvelle. Rore’s motet has the subtitle “Illustrissimi et Reverendissimi
Cardinalis Granvellani Emblema.” It uses as cantus firmus the soggetto cavato ut-
fa-re. Both Rore’s and Willaert’s motets were published in Rore’s Libro Quinto of
1566 (RISM 156617); that of Rore may be found in Rore’s Opera Omnia, ed.
Bernhard Meier ([Rome]: American Institute of Musicology, 1959–77), vol. 5,
pp. 110.
18 Ignace Bossuyt, “Lassos erste Jahre in München (1556–1559): eine ‘cosa non
riuscita’? Neue Materiale aufgrund unveröffentlicher Briefe von Johann Jakob
Fugger, Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle und Orlando di Lasso,” Festschrift für
Horst Leuchtmann zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Stephan Hörner and Bernhold
Schmid (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1993), pp. 55–67.
19 Ibid., pp. 56–8. 20 Ibid., pp. 61–5.
21 Van der Straeten, La Musique aux Pays-Bas, vol. 7, p. 503. On Hotz see ibid., vol.
3, pp. 307–25. 22 Leuchtmann, Leben, p. 117.
188
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
One other connection, possibly an important one, between Granvelle
and Lasso may be mentioned. In his letter of May 1559 to the composer
Granvelle mentions a “Signor Polites” as if he were a friend of Lasso.
Joachim Polites [=Burgher] (d. 1569) was a Fleming who studied at Padua
(as did Granvelle); he later turned up in Antwerp, where with the active
support of Granvelle he was appointed to head the chancery, a position he
held from 1541 until 1565.23 Polites looked out for Granvelle’s interests, and
had a room at his disposal in the latter’s Brussels house. He himself lived
lavishly in Antwerp, and was an amateur poet and musician who patronized
many local artists.24 Polites could well have been a useful friend to Lasso
during the composer’s Antwerp years, and could have made him known to
Granvelle. Both must subsequently have received copies of Lasso’s music in
manuscript and in print.
In the spring of 1564 Granvelle, who had incurred much enmity in the
Netherlands and who had Philip II’s support but not that of his Spanish
advisors, was asked by the king to leave Brussels; he did so, never to return
despite his never-ending wishes to do so (he left most of his valuable
belongings, including his library, behind in his Brussels house when he
departed25). This should mean that there could be no connection between
Granvelle and Jean Turnhout. But Granvelle surely knew of Gérard
Turnhout, choirmaster at Antwerp Cathedral from 1562 to 1572 and then
director of Philip II’s chapel in Madrid. And though he could not visit his
episcopal seat in Malines (indeed he rarely did so even before 1564) he was
kept apprised of all that went on there by his friend the Vicar General of the
diocese, Maximilian Morillon.26 Granvelle remained in name Archbishop
23 See Biographie nationale, s.v. “Joachim Polites,” by Fernand Donnet; Piquard, “Le
Cardinal de Granvelle,” p. 141; Bossuyt, “Lassos erste Jahre,” pp. 64–6.
24 Biographie nationale, vol. 17, col. 910, where it is said that “plusieurs artistes,”
not specified, dedicated compositions to Polites. An instance of Polites dealing
with the printer Plantin on Granvelle’s behalf is cited by van Durme, Antoon
Perrenot, p. 254.
25 Biographie nationale, vol. 7, col. 223. The house was later looted and its
remaining contents then sold at auction in 1578, Granvelle and his brothers and
friends being considered at the time as “ennemys du pays.” See Maurice Piquard,
“Le Cardinal de Granvelle, amateur de tapisseries,” Revue belge d’archéologie et
d’histoire d’art, 19 (1950), p. 126. But at least part of Granvelle’s library survived
and is still extant; see the illustrations in van Durme, Antoon Perrenot.
26 Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, les artistes,” p. 134.
189
ja m e s h a a r
of Malines until 1582.27 He must therefore have approved Jean Turnhout’s
appointment as choirmaster in 1577, and must have learned something
about him then if he had not known him earlier. Turnhout was styled
“bruxellensis” at the time of his appointment; if he had been in Brussels
before 1564 he could have met Granvelle there, perhaps even have been
engaged by him.
The other figures of interest to us as patrons of musicians are Ottavio
Farnese, Duke of Parma; his wife Margaret of Austria (natural daughter of
Charles V) and their son Alessandro. Margaret (1522–86) had a Flemish
mother and spent her childhood at the Habsburg court in the Netherlands.
She was accustomed to musical tributes from an early age; a madrigal in
Arcadelt’s Primo libro (1538/9) addresses her, probably at the time of her
betrothal (1533) or marriage (1536) to Alessandro de’Medici.28 Another, in
Arcadelt’s Quinto libro of 1544, mentions her and Ottavio, presumably in
celebration of her second marriage in 1538.29
Cipriano de Rore is the most illustrious composer to have been con-
nected with the Farnese couple. On his departure from Ferrara in the
summer of 1559 Rore returned to the Netherlands, where Margaret had
become regent. A madrigal in her honor, “Alma real se come fide stella,”
published in 1565, may date from this period.30 It is a birthday piece, refer-
ring to the approach of the Three Kings (Margaret’s birthday was celebrated
on 28 December); the end of the text,“preso non sdegno / Mio stato humile
poi che vostro sono / E per elettione e per destino,” suggests that Rore may
have been asking directly for a position in Margaret’s service. If so the piece
could be dated December 1559.31
190
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
Rore’s motet addressed to Granvelle, mentioned above, was probably
written at this time or shortly after his departure for Parma to assume his
new duties as ducal choirmaster there (November 1560). Another dedica-
tory piece, “Mentre lumi maggior del secol nostro,” its extravagant text
lavish in praise of Ottavio and Margarita (addressed as Apollo and Delia
[Diana]), was written at this time, probably for Ottavio’s visit to Brussels in
August–September 1560, by or at which time Rore was surely engaged for
Parma.32 This work appeared in Rore’s posthumous Quinto libro of 1566,
dedicated by the printer Antonio Gardano to Ottavio in a letter famous for
its claim that Rore’s music unites all that is best in the music of Josquin,
Mouton, and Willaert.33
The last work of Rore to celebrate the Farnese is the five-voice madri-
gal “Vieni dolce Hymeneo,”addressed to Alessandro and his bride, Maria of
Portugal, who were married in November 1565. The marriage had been
decided upon in late 1564, by which time Rore had returned from Venice to
Parma. Rore died in September 1565; Duke Ottavio was then on his way
from Parma to Brussels for the wedding, perhaps with the commissioned
piece, clearly one of Rore’s last works, in his possession.34
Here Lasso re-enters the picture, for he also wrote a setting of “Vieni
dolce Hymeneo.”35 Rore’s madrigal was doubtless commissioned by
Ottavio Farnese. It seems unlikely that another setting of the same text
would have been wanted for the wedding ceremonies; yet the poem seems
expenses were paid by a Farnese agent in Antwerp, suggesting that the composer
may have been there rather than at the court in Brussels. See Jessie Ann Owens,
“Cipriano de Rore a Parma (1560–1565). Nuovi documenti,” Rivista italiana di
musicologia, 11 (1976), p. 10.
32 See Louis Nuernberger, “The Five-Voice Madrigals of Cipriano de Rore,” 2 vols.,
Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan (1963) vol. 1, p. 28.
33 The dedication is reproduced in facsimile in Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, p. xix.
34 On Rore’s death date see Owens, “Cipriano de Rore,” p. 18. “Vieni dolce
Hymeneo” is published in Rore, Opera omnia, vol. 5, pp. 123ff. On p. xvi of that
volume Meier suggests convincingly, given its peculiar text, that the madrigal
“Ne l’aria in questi dì” (published posthumously in RISM 156813, reprinted in
157515) was written to accompany a fireworks display mounted as part of
Alessandro Farnese’s wedding festivities.
35 Printed in SW, vol. 8, pp. 69ff. It first appeared in RISM 15706, Second livre des
chansons a 4 et 5 parties composées par Orlando di Lassus, Cyprian de Rore, &
Philippe de Mons, published by Phalèse in Louvain. Rore’s setting was printed in
15705, the Premier livre of the same series.
191
ja m e s h a a r
too explicit to have been useful for anything else.36 Granvelle, who had left
Brussels early in 1564, does not seem a probable source for a commission,
nor is there any apparent reason for Rore to have communicated the text to
Lasso. The latter may have received it from friends in the Netherlands.37 He
appears to have known Rore’s music as well; although there is no percepti-
ble common material in the two settings, they are similar in style and Lasso
like Rore repeats the opening three lines of the poem at the end, using as
does Rore the music with which he opened the piece. Lasso’s setting is
divided into two parts and is a bit longer than Rore’s, but it is scored for four
voices instead of Rore’s five (a gesture of modesty on the part of the younger
composer?). Both pieces were published in Louvain/Antwerp in 1570; curi-
ously, one is in each of a pair of matched volumes devoted to chansons and
madrigals by the two composers.38 Lasso’s version was, then, known in the
Netherlands.
If both settings were used at the wedding of 1565, there is no mystery
here. If Lasso’s was not, could it have been written after the fact? The
obvious reason for this would be Lasso’s desire to remind the Farnese of his
existence and just possibly of his availability for the position in Parma
vacated by Rore’s death. Some appointments for the chapel in Parma were
quickly made, among them that of the organist Jean Terrier d’Arras (once a
client of Granvelle).39 It is not clear to me, however, who Rore’s successor as
maestro di cappella was.40 Lasso may no longer have been actively interested
in moving, but his Libro Quarto of 1567, dedicated to Alfonso II of Ferrara,
36 Boetticher, Lasso, p. 305, Sandberger in SW, vol. 8, p. xi, and Meier in Rore,
Opera omnia, vol. 5, p. xv, all assume that Lasso’s piece was written for the
wedding. Sandberger also suggests that Lasso’s “Quando fia mai quel giorno,”
which mentions a “Maria” in its text, may have been intended for the wedding;
but the verbal context hardly seems appropriate.
37 The suggestion that Lasso visited the Netherlands in 1564 (Boetticher, Lasso,
p. 166) has no factual basis; see Leuchtmann, Leben, p. 136.
38 See note 35 above.
39 On Jean d’Arras see New Grove s.v. “Arras,” by Lavern Wagner. For his
connection to Granvelle see Piquard, “Le Cardinal de Granvelle, les artistes,”
p. 135.
40 The detailed study of N. Pelicelli, “Musicisti in Parma nei secoli xv-xvi,” Note
d’archivio per la storia musicale, 8 (1931), pp. 130–42, 196–215, 278–90; 9
(1932), pp. 41–52, 112–29, does not list Rore’s successor at the ducal chapel. In
1566 P. P. Ragazzoni became choirmaster at the Cathedral (ibid., vol. 8, p. 201).
192
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
shows evidence both external and internal that he wanted to be reckoned in
Italy as among the leading madrigalists of the day.41
Other musicians were certainly interested in Parma. G. F. Alcarotto’s
Secondo Libro di Madrigali a 5 et a 6 (1569) is dedicated to Margarita
(perhaps written upon her return to Parma in 1567) and contains madri-
gals in honor of her, of the ducal pair, and a third,“A la man vincitrice a l’alte
e sole,”referring to Alessandro as well. Its seconda parte sets this text:
193
ja m e s h a a r
plenty of blame to be shared for the failure of the Armada; but Alessandro
received a great deal of personal criticism, and was forced to defend himself
to Philip II and others through the fall – even to December – of 1588.45 If he
heard Turnhout’s opening madrigal, or read the dedicatory sonnet it sets,
he must have had mixed feelings:
45 Colin Martin and Geoffrey Parker, The Spanish Armada (London: Norton,
1988), pp. 265–6, 290.
46 Felipe Fernández-Armesto, The Spanish Armada: The Experience of War in 1588
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), pp. 84, 100.
47 Van der Straeten, La Musique aux Pays-Bas, vol. 3, p. 322.
194
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
less put on a regime of study, together with Don Juan of Austria and the ill-
fated Don Carlos of Spain (what a bundle for a tutor to handle!), which
included one hour a day for a “leçon de chant et de musique.”48 Whether
this was enough to make him a discerning musical patron may be doubted,
but like all educated aristocrats of the time he knew something of the art.
The contents of Turnhout’s volume are described in the Appendix to
this study. Enough has been said to show that the music of Lasso must have
been readily accessible to him; but did the name of Lasso have special
meaning in the Brussels of the 1580s? Surely it must have. Lasso was by then
the most famous musician of his day, as Rore had been of his.And both were
from the south, Catholic Netherlands; both had had close connections with
figures of power and eminence in the region. It seems pardonable exaggera-
tion to say that they may have formed part of a pantheon of local composers,
just as they were to do for Fétis and Kiesewetter nearly three centuries later.
Of the twenty madrigals in the volume, ten set texts used by Lasso,
several chosen by him alone or by a very small number of composers.
Turnhout, by inclination a composer of canzonetta-madrigals, did not
attempt an approach to Lasso’s style; but here and there he acknowledged
his debt to Lasso by a quick allusion to the latter’s music, as Examples 9.1–4
show. Turnhout begins several of his pieces with reference to Lasso’s
exordia. In Example 9.1 Lasso’s altus, which starts alone, is echoed by
Turnhout’s sexta, starting by itself and continuing with a melody aping the
contours of Lasso’s line. Example 9.2 shows Turnhout reproducing not only
the signature la-sol but the solmization of the whole of Lasso’s opening
phrase. Turnhout’s imitation of Lasso in Example 9.3 is less exact, but he
recognizes and rather ineffectively copies the older composer’s vivid setting
of the opening words, in which the melodic line seems to peer into the dis-
tance (“Ben veggio di lontano”). In Example 9.4 Lasso’s majestic voicing of
the opening words of Petrarch’s Canzoniere is clearly imitated by Turnhout,
who nevertheless lowers the tone of simple grandeur in his model by con-
tinuing in Marenzio-ish chromatic fashion, here rather out of place. Only a
musician of the time (or an allusion-happy twentieth-century musicolo-
gist?) would recognize these, but they may have meaning all the same, a
modest bow to the “divin Orlande.” One wonders if Lasso was given a copy
of this volume.
48 Van der Essen, Alexandre Farnèse, vol. 1, pp. 25, 69.
195
ja m e s h a a r
(a) (T, 5, B tacent)
˙ ˙
1
w œ. œ ˙ œ
6 & J
O bel - ta ra - - - - - ra
C &Ó ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ
O bel - ta ra - - - - - - ra
VÓ œ œ œ œ ˙
A
˙ œ œ œ
O bel - - - - - - ta ra - - - ra
(B tacet)
(b)
&C ∑ w ˙ ˙ w w
C
O bel - ta ra - ra
A &C w w ˙ ˙ w w
O bel - - - ta ra - ra
5 &C ∑ w ˙ ˙ w w
O bel - ta ra - ra
T VC ∑ w ˙ ˙ w w
O bel - ta ra - ra
(a) ˙ œ ˙ ˙ ˙
&c Ó Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Que - sti son las - so, que - sti,
& b C ˙. œ ˙
˙ ˙ ˙ w w
Que - sti son las - so, que - sti,
Example 9.2: “Questi son lasso, questi” (a) Turnhout, sexta vox;
(b) Lasso, cantus
Ex. 9.3a
(a)
œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
& ˙ œ. Œ œ
J
Ben veg - gio di lon - tan' il dol - ce lu - me
∑ w œ œ ˙ w Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
& ˙ ˙
Ben veg - gio di lon - ta - no il dol - ce lu - me
196
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
(a) (T, 5a, B tacent)
1
Cantus & c ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ #˙
Voi, voi ch'a - - - scol - tat' in
6a & c Ó #˙ Œ ˙ œ œ #œ #˙ ˙
Voi, voi ch'a - - scol - tat' in
Altus & c Ó ˙
Œ
˙ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
Voi, voi ch'a - - scol - tat' in
(b)
Cantus & C „ › Ó w
Voi ch'a - - - -
Altus & C ∑ w w w ˙ ˙ ˙
Voi ch'a - - - - scol - ta - - -
5a & C ∑ w w ˙
w ˙ ˙
Voi ch'a - - - - scol - ta - - -
Tenor V C w Ó w ˙ w w
Voi ch'a - scol - ta - - - te
? C ∑ w w Ó w
Bassus
˙ ˙ ˙
Voi ch'a - - - scol - ta - - -
For the remainder of the volume Turnhout’s sources are less clear.
Philippe de Monte, another Flemish composer of international fame and
one in Habsburg service, set “Dolce mio caro e pretioso albergo,”a sonnet of
which Turnhout composed the octet (no. 20). Rore is less well represented
than one might expect, and there is some overlap of texts set by him and by
Lasso. But the surprising appearance of an ottava stanza,“Misero stato degli
amanti in queste” (no. 19), of which there is only one other setting, part of a
cycle by Palestrina, called in its printed source “Giannetto” – whom
Turnhout may not have recognized as the famous Roman composer – can
be explained by the fact that this cycle, Da fuoco sì bella nasce il mio ardore,
appeared in Rore’s Secondo libro a 4 (1557, 1569, 1571).49
49 Il Nuovo Vogel, vol. 2, pp. 1504–06, nos. 2429–31. On Palestrina’s cycle see James
Haar, “Pace non trovo: A Study in Literary and Musical Parody,” Musica
Disciplina, 10 (1966), pp. 95–149.
197
ja m e s h a a r
Given Marenzio’s popularity in the Netherlands in the 1580s,
Turnhout’s choice of three texts (nos. 9, 13, and a piece appearing in an
Antwerp anthology of 1591) is not surprising. If Guglielmo Textoris was a
Flemish musician (resident in Italy) Turnhout’s selection of a sonnet (no.
18) set by him may be explainable. Textoris’s Libro primo a 5 (1566) is dedi-
cated to Jacopo Pinsonio A Steinhueisen, probably a member of a well-
known and Habsburg-connected Flemish family.50 There remain four
pieces to be accounted for, other than the opening dedicatory piece, clearly
of local origin. No. 2, a Petrarch sonnet popular with composers from
Verdelot through the late sixteenth century, could also have been available
from Petrarch’s Canzoniere, a copy of which was surely ready at hand to any
madrigalist. There are three unica, nos. 11, 16, and 17. These may have been
set in madrigal volumes no longer extant, or have been the work, like the
opening dedicatory sonnet, of someone active as a madrigal poet in circles
close to Turnhout.
In sum, Turnhout’s madrigal book stands as evidence of a kind of
“national” cultural awareness in late sixteenth-century Franco-Flemish
society, something that must have been very precious during this turbulent
period in Netherlandish history. And chief among the musical heroes in
this society was Orlando di Lasso, or Roland de Lassus, of Mons and
Antwerp.
198
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
Appendix
Giovan Turnhout, Il Primo Libro de Madrigali a Sei Voci (Antwerp: Pietro
Phalesio and Giovanni Bellero, 1589)
199
ja m e s h a a r
No. Capoverso Poet Remarks
6, fol. 5 Ben veggio di lontan Petrarch, sestet Turnhout does not indicate
il dolce lume of preceding this as a seconda parte;
sonnet neither do Lasso (1563) or
Monte (1570); in Rore it is so
marked. Lasso’s opening
gesture seems to be imitated
by Turnhout.
7, fol. 5v Bella guerriera mia Bembo, sonnet, Set for five voices by Lasso
perche sì spesso octet [Bembo’s (1563), by Perissone Cambio
authorship is for four (1554). Turnhout
pointed out by uses the same cleffing as
Leuchtmann, Lasso but the settings seem
SW2, vol. 4, unrelated. Boetticher, Lasso,
p. xxx.] 309, sees a “weak” imitation
of Lasso by Turnhout in the
closing phrase of the piece.
8, fol. 6 Come va’l mondo Petrarch, octet Not an especially popular
hor mi dilett’ e of sonnet text among musicians, this
piace (CCXC) sonnet was set by Lasso
(1567); there are also settings
by Rossetti (1566), Merlo
(1567), and Balbi (1570), all
of the complete sonnet in
two parts.
9, fol. 6v Lasso quand’havran anon. A setting of this text is in
fin tanti sospiri canzonetta Marenzio’s Libro primo delle
villanelle a 3 (1584), a source
used twice in Turnhout’s
book (see no. 13) and again
for the six-voice “Vorria
parlare e dire” printed in
Phalèse’s Melodia Olympica
(RISM 159110). Whether
Turnhout cites Marenzio’s
opening, or both composers
used the la-sol figure as a
matter of course is hard to
determine.
200
t h e m a d r i g a l b o o k o f j e a n t u r n h o u t ⁽1589⁾
No. Capoverso Poet Remarks
10, fol. 7 Quel dolce suon per anon. sonnet Set by C. Ameyden in Lasso’s
cui chiaro s’intende octet Terzo Libro of 1563; no other
settings are known to me.
Could Lasso have known
Ameyden, a papal singer who
studied in Antwerp about the
time of Lasso’s residence
there? On Ameyden see New
Grove s.v. “Ameyden,” by
Lavern J. Wagner.
11, fol. 7v Udite i miei lamenti anon. No other setting of this text
canzonetta is known to me. Madrigals,
by Guarini and others,
beginning “Udite amanti”
were popular in the late
sixteenth century.
12, fol. 8 Il tempo passa e Petrarch, Set by Rampollini as part of
l’hore son sì pronte canzone stanza a cycle. Otherwise Lasso’s
(second stanza version (1567) is the only
of XXXVII, one known.
Si è debile il filo)
13, fol. 8v Se il dolce sguardo anon. Not the Petrarchan sonnet
del divin tuo volto canzonetta (CLXXXIII) popular with
several generations of
madrigalists. Other settings
of the text used by Turnhout
include one by Castro
(1594), Ferretti (1567), and
Marenzio (1584), the latter
Turnhout’s most likely
source.
14, fol. 9 Voi ch’ascoltate in Petrarch, octet Set by a number of
rime spars’ il suono of sonnet (I) composers. Lasso’s version
(1567) seems to be echoed by
Turnhout at the beginning of
his setting.
201
ja m e s h a a r
No. Capoverso Poet Remarks
15, fol. 9v Occhi piangete Petrarch, octet A text popular with
accompagnate il core of sonnet madrigalists throughout the
(LXXIV) century. Lasso’s four-voice
setting (1555) opens with a
falling motive, as does that of
Turnhout; but the latter’s
three-voice beginning is
much closer in spirit to the
villanella. The setting of S.
Cornet (1581), which I have
not seen, might be relevant
here.
16, fol. 10 O fortuna crudel di anon. ottava No other settings of this text
me ti satia stanza are known to me.
17, fol. 10v Poi che madonn’ il anon. sonnet Another unicum.
mio martir non crede octet
18, fol. 11 Dove fuggi crudele anon. sonnet This text was set by
ahi che fuggendo octet G. Textoris (1566). He may
have been a Fleming; his
print (Libro primo a 5) is
dedicated to Jacopo Pinsonio
A Steinhueisen and some of
its contents are said to have
been written for him.
19, fol. 11v Misero stato degli Virginia Salvi, The only other setting of this
amanti in quante ottava stanza text, of which no printed
(the twelfth in sixteenth-century edition is
a fourteen- known, is that of Palestrina,
stanza cycle) part of his cycle Da fuoco così
bel nasce il mio ardore,
published in RISM 155724.
20, fol. 12 Dolce mio caro D. Veniero, This sonnet is set entire in
e pretioso albergo sonnet octet Monte’s Quarto libro a 4
(1581), a copy of which is
today in the Bibl. Royale in
Brussels.
202
10 Modal ordering within Orlando di Lasso’s
publications
peter bergquist
203
peter bergquist
collection might group its contents according to any of these criteria, singly
or in combination.
The three criteria of clef, signature, and final in their various combi-
nations were taken by Siegfried Hermelink to distinguish Tonartentypen or
as Powers puts it, “tonal types.”3 Since the finals were in practice almost
always confined to the six pitches of the natural hexachord, a total of
twenty-four tonal types could in principle exist, of which the two with a flat
signature and E as final were never used. Hermelink attempted to show that
musical behavior of the individual tonal types was so diverse that they
could not be subsumed under a system of either eight or twelve modes.
Powers demonstrated, however, that composers and publishers in the later
sixteenth century increasingly used the tonal types to represent eight or
twelve modes in numerical order within a publication or other group of
compositions. This is not to say that the pieces were composed “in a mode,”
but that they can represent a mode when placed in a suitable context. How a
polyphonic composition may “be in” or express a mode is a completely
different subject than how it may represent a mode. The latter can be
accomplished simply through the combination of clef, signature, and final,
whereas the musical behavior that might cause a piece to express a mode is a
larger issue. The possibility of modal representation does not mean that
every piece of sixteenth-century polyphony is in or represents or was com-
posed in a mode.4
It is well known that Lasso held to the traditional system of eight
modes rather than adapting the twelve-mode system propounded by
Glareanus and Zarlino. Powers described several publications of Lasso that
are modally ordered, assigning the tonal types to represent members of the
eight-mode system;5 this study follows his lead and explores contemporary
publications of Lasso’s music as thoroughly as possible. The emphasis is on
publications over which Lasso had some control, that is, those by publishers
with whom he dealt directly. Only motets and settings of vernacular texts
are considered, since a collection of masses would not usually include
enough pieces to be modally ordered (the necessary minimum would be
204
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
around sixteen), and Magnificats and other liturgical music would be
ordered on different principles.
Table 10.1 lists the tonal types used by Lasso in modally ordered col-
lections and the modes that they represent. The table is based on the
findings of Powers and Bernhard Meier, which are taken as axiomatic for
this study.6 Lasso’s usage is essentially similar to that of his contemporaries,
differing mainly in how he treats pieces with C or A as final. He does not use
every possible tonal type in his modally ordered collections, though some
others appear elsewhere in his output. The two clef combinations referred
to in Table 10.1 are standard for the period, with the low or “normal”clefs of
c1 c3 c4 f4 for the basic SATB group and the high clefs or chiavette of g2 c2 c3
f 3 (or c4). When there are more than four voices, the added parts normally
duplicate the range and clef of one of the basic four. The high and low clefs
typically distinguish authentic from plagal modes respectively, based in the
first place on the ambitus of the tenor, which continued to be considered the
leading voice for purposes of determining the mode. A signature of one flat
was sometimes used to cause a “transposition”of one of the normal finals of
modal theory, e.g., mode 1 or 2 transposed from final on D to final on G, a
perfect fourth higher.
Mode 1 then may be represented both by a final on D and no flat in the
signature (though occasionally the flat is used) and by a final on G with one
flat. Mode 2 was almost never used untransposed, since it would have to be
notated lower than normal singing ranges. It frequently appeared trans-
posed to G with one flat, distinguished from mode 1 by the low clefs. Mode 2
might also be notated in high clefs and no flat with final on D (hereafter rep-
resented as H/0/D).Since mode 1 in D used the low clefs,this led to the para-
doxical result that the authentic mode used the low clefs and the plagal
mode the high, which is contrary to the normal expectation. Modes 3 and 4
were rarely distinguished from each other in polyphony, either in theory or
practice, and Lasso used the combination L/0/E to represent this composite
mode 3/4, which could also be represented transposed as H/1/A. A few
examples represent mode 4 by unusually low clefs, c2 c4 f3 f 5. For Lasso as
for most other sixteenth-century composers, pieces in F almost by
6 Powers, “Tonal Types” and other works cited above; Bernhard Meier, The Modes
of Classical Vocal Polyphony, trans. Ellen Beebe (New York: Broude, 1988;
original German edition, Utrecht: Oosthoek, Scheltema & Holkema, 1974).
205
peter bergquist
definition used a flat in the signature, and he like many others used them to
represent modes 5 and 6. His system included no “ionian” modes. Mode 6
was also represented transposed a fifth higher by H/0/C.Modes 7 and 8 were
represented at their standard pitch levels by H/0/G and L/0/G respectively.
Mode 8 was also transposed a fourth higher to H/1/C. Some theorists
classed H/0/C and L/0/C as mode 7 and 8 respectively, but Lasso usually
associated such pieces with mode 6; they never represent mode 7 or 8 in his
modally ordered publications.
Pieces in H/0/A or L/0/A are included in a number of Lasso’s modally
ordered publications. In sixteenth-century theory and practice these pieces
were sometimes classed as mode 3 (especially L/0/A) or mode 1 or 2 (espe-
cially H/0/A). Powers showed that although Palestrina at least once used
206
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
H/0/A to represent mode 1 in a modally ordered collection, Lasso’s usage in
such collections is anomalous.7 Powers cited only two Lasso collections in
which H/0/A was used, but the present study has uncovered several more,
and this more complete information fills out the picture considerably. At
the end of this paper I will summarize the information and place it in con-
junction with my recent study of all of Lasso’s pieces in H/0/A and L/0/A.8
Another basic question that the present study must address is Lasso’s inten-
tions regarding modal collections. How much does modal ordering reflect
his own wishes as distinct from decisions made by his publisher or editor?
The best approach is to consider both place and time, to examine the prac-
tice of Lasso’s publishers in various parts of Europe and how that practice
changed in time if at all.
Italy
We know of no Italian publications devoted exclusively to Lasso’s
music that are modally ordered. Powers mentions several Italian prints that
show such ordering, but none of them is of Lasso’s music. His madrigal
books published in Italy do not consider clef, signature, and final all
together as factors in their organization. Some of them show a tendency to
group by clef, with all the pieces in low clefs separated from those in high
clefs, as in Lasso’s earliest Italian publication, his first book of five-voice
madrigals (Venice: Gardano, RISM 1555c). In this book the first fifteen
pieces are in low clefs, nos. 16–20 are in high clefs, and nos. 21–2 in low
clefs.9 Perhaps the two final pieces were given their position so as to group
them with nos. 19–20, with which they share the final of F and signature of
one flat. The collection is clearly ordered on the basis of musical character-
istics rather than the texts, with each tonal type segregated from the others.
Another option was to group all the pieces in cantus durus separately from
those in cantus mollis, as in the third book of five-voice madrigals (Rome:
Barrè, RISM 1563c). Ordering is once again on the basis of musical traits,
207
peter bergquist
with each of the two major groups further subdivided on the basis of clefs
and finals. No modal ordering results, in part because the modes that could
be represented are confined to modes 1–4.10
Lasso’s Italian motet publications follow similar patterns. Powers
noted that none of the Lasso motet books of Antonio Gardano, Lasso’s
principal Italian publisher, is modally ordered.11 They may be grouped in
other ways, as he observes of Gardano’s 1562 re-edition of the motets first
published by Montanus and Neuber in Nuremberg in the same year (RISM
1562c and 1562a respectively). The Nuremberg edition is modally ordered,
but Gardano rearranges the pieces in a way that only partially retains the
original grouping and removes the pieces from any possible modal order-
ing. Powers notes that Gardano’s Book IV (RISM 1566e) seems to be
ordered primarily by final, subdivided by cleffing;12 liturgical order may
also play a role at the beginning of the book.13
Netherlands
Lasso’s principal publishers in the Netherlands were Jean Laet and
Tielman Susato in Antwerp and Pierre Phalèse in Louvain (later Antwerp).
Laet’s most notable publication of Lasso’s music was his first motet book
(RISM 1556a), in which the individual tonal types are grouped together but
not ordered throughout by clef, signature, nor final. Susato published a
large number of anthologies from 1544 on that Powers showed to be
modally ordered, some within a single publication, others in a series of
publications in which all pieces within a book were stated to be in a single
mode.14 Most of Susato’s publications were anthologies, and his only publi-
cation exclusively devoted to Lasso was a collection of chansons, RISM
1564c (see Table 10.2). The contents of this book are in perfect modal order,
except for two pieces in mode 3/4 that are separated from their fellows, as is
the final chanson in mode 8. The single chanson in L/0/A follows the main
10 Book V (SW and SW2, vol. 6; RISM 1585e), published in Germany, holds to the
same principle, with all the pieces in cantus mollis at its head, followed by all
those in cantus durus. The publisher of Book V, Katharina Gerlach in
Nuremberg, issued a number of modally ordered Lasso prints in other genres;
these are discussed below. 11 Powers, “Tonal Types,” p. 461.
12 Ibid. 13 CM, vol. 5, p. xiii.
14 Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 443–5, 468–9.
208
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
group of pieces in mode 8, in other words, after the completion of the modal
cycle.
Pierre Phalèse the elder published many collections of Lasso’s music,
and his son Pierre the younger continued to do so, sometimes in association
with Jean Bellère in Antwerp, to which city the Phalèse press eventually
moved. Most of Phalèse’s Lasso publications are reprints of collections pre-
viously published in France and Germany, so any modal ordering they may
present is of no significance in determining Lasso’s own intentions, except
as it duplicates modal ordering that Lasso may have established in the first
edition. The only other Phalèse collection that appears to be modally
ordered proclaims itself as such in its title: La Fleur des chansons d’Orlande
de Lassus . . . toutes mises en ordre convenable selon leur tons (Antwerp: Pierre
Phalèse & Jean Bellère, RISM 1592b). It is a publisher’s compilation, dedi-
cated to the master of ceremonies of Mecheln Cathedral,and for that reason
the original texts of several chansons were replaced by bowdlerized contra-
facta.15 In this publication the four- and five-voice chansons appear in suc-
cession,and each group is modally ordered (see Table 10.3).The ordering of
the five-voice chansons is not perfect, since representatives of mode 5 are
15 Helmut Hell and Horst Leuchtmann, Orlando di Lasso: Musik der Renaissance
am Münchner Fürstenhof. Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Ausstellungskataloge 26
(Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1982), p. 216.
209
peter bergquist
lacking altogether (only two examples of the tonal type H/1/F exist among
all of Lasso’s five-voice chansons), and the chansons that represent mode 8
appear among those in mode 6.
France
The firm of Adrian Le Roy and Robert Ballard in Paris was one of
Lasso’s most important publishers through his lifetime and even after-
wards. Lasso had a close personal relationship with Le Roy, with whom he
stayed during his 1571 visit to Paris. Le Roy’s letter of 14 January 1574 trans-
mitted the offer of Charles IX to Lasso to become the royal court com-
210
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
poser.16 Le Roy and Ballard published numerous editions of Lasso’s music
in all genres except the polyphonic lied, many of them first editions or
authorized reprints, sometimes in large retrospective compilations. Many
of the chansons first appeared in the publisher’s numbered series of
chanson books, which were small collections of sixteen folios each; Lasso’s
music first appears in these books in 1559. Most of the books were origi-
nally anthologies containing works by several composers, but as they were
reissued over and over again in the course of as many as twenty or thirty
years, their contents gradually changed in order to reflect the publisher’s
sense of what was most popular and salable. In this way many of the books
became devoted exclusively to Lasso.17 Each of the books would contain
from sixteen to twenty chansons, which were not always sufficient for
modal ordering, especially when several composers were represented. But
when Book XVII, for instance, turned into an exclusively Lasso print in
1576, its four-voice chansons were placed in modal order, although the
series is incomplete (see Table 10.4).
Le Roy and Ballard’s larger collections of Lasso’s chansons are almost
invariably modally ordered. Their first such collection was the Mellange
(RISM 1570d), a retrospective compilation of almost all of Lasso’s previ-
ously published chansons with quite a number of new works added. The
collection also included madrigals as well as several Latin motets with
secular texts. RISM 1570d is substantially modally ordered (see Table 10.5).
The four-voice chansons show some disorder at the beginning of the series,
with modes 1 and 2 intermixed and one piece in mode 3/4 transposed
included among them. The five-voice chansons are largely in modal order
at first, though with no representatives of mode 7, since its tonal type
(H/0/G) is rare among the five-voice chansons.When the Latin pieces begin
to appear, however, the ordering largely breaks down. The four-voice chan-
sons in L/0/A appear at the beginning of the book, the one for five voices in
H/0/A between pieces in mode 2 and modes 3/4.
In 1576 an expanded reissue appeared under the title Les meslanges
211
peter bergquist
(RISM 1576i); the title indicates that Lasso supervised this edition. The
four- and five-voice chansons are both completely modally ordered, with
only one exception, and the Latin and Italian pieces are separated from the
chansons (see Table 10.6). The anomalously positioned chanson is no. 73,
“Un mesnagier viellard,”which is in L/I/F but is placed among the represen-
tatives of mode 2 rather than mode 6.18 Mode 7 is again unrepresented in
the five-voice pieces, and a single representative of mode 4 with its charac-
teristic unusually low clefs appears as no. 91. The four-voice pieces in L/0/A
precede mode 1, while nos. 92–3 in H/0/A follow the five-voice chansons
that represent mode 8. The Latin settings in five voices, nos. 100–14,
observe modal order only imperfectly. Ten years later Le Roy and Ballard
reissued Les meslanges (RISM 1586g) with the same contents but with a
slightly changed ordering. The largest difference is that in the four-voice
chansons the pieces in L/0/E and H/1/A that represent mode 3/4 are
inserted between the pieces in L/0/A and the representatives of mode 1.
Apart from this, the modal ordering of RISM 1576i is retained in RISM
1586g, despite a few other small adjustments.
Le Roy and Ballard’s Livre de chansons nouvelles for five and eight
voices (RISM 1571f) was never incorporated into either printing of Les
meslanges. Though it contains only sixteen five-voice chansons, they are in
perfect modal order, with the single chanson in H/0/A at the end of the
series following mode 8 (see Table 10.7). The Continvation du meslanges
18 This chanson had been placed among the Latin pieces in RISM 1570d. Perhaps
in the process of reorganizing the chansons for RISM 1576i it was inadvertently
moved to the wrong position.
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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
Table 10.5 RISM 1570d, Mellange d’Orlande de Lassus (Le Roy &
Ballard)
Number Clefs/Signature/Final Mode
Chansons a4
21–3 L/0/A A
24 H/0/D 2 tr 8ve
25 H/1/A 3/4 tr
26–7 H/1/G 1 tr
28 L/0/D 1
29–10 H/0/D 2 tr 8ve
11–15 (15=L) L/1/G 2 tr
16–21 H/1/G 1 tr
22–8 L/0/E 3/4
29–35 H/1/F 5
36–7, 39L H/0/C 6 tr
38, 40–2 H/0/G 7
43–4 L/0/G 8
Chansons a5
45–8 H/1/G 1 tr
49–50 L/0/D 1
51, 53–5 L/1/G 2 tr
52 H/1/G 1 tr
56–7 H/0/D 2 tr 8ve
58 H/0/A A
59–61 L/0/E 3/4
62 H/1/A 3/4 tr
63 H/1/F 5
64–6 L/1/F 6
67 H/0/C 6 tr
68–70, 71L L/0/G 8
Note:
72–91 – mostly L, a few I and Fr; modal ordering not maintained
(L = Latin text; I = Italian text)
(RISM 1584f) includes more settings of Italian than French texts, many of
the former reprinted. Only the five-voice madrigals are numerous enough
to be modally ordered, and they do not clearly exhibit any such ordering.
Le Roy and Ballard seemingly found Lasso’s motets to be as popular as
his chansons, and they frequently put out motet books devoted exclusively
to Lasso, beginning in 1564. Many of these books closely followed similar
publications of the same motets in Germany, probably with Lasso’s
213
peter bergquist
Note:
94–9 – Vers italiens a5; 100–14 – Vers latins a5; 115–17 – Vers latins a6;
120–6 – Dialogues a8; 127 – Dialogue a10
consent.With few exceptions Le Roy and Ballard’s motet books are modally
ordered. The earliest of their collections, Primus liber concentuum sacrorum
for five and six voices (RISM 1564b), gathered together the contents of
Lasso’s two earliest motet books, RISM 1556a and 1562a, the latter modally
ordered in its original edition.All the five-voice motets in RISM 1564b were
put into modal order, with one piece in H/0/A at the end of the series. The
214
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
six-voice motets were too few to put in modal order, and this was perhaps
true throughout Le Roy and Ballard’s next book of Lasso’s motets,
Modulorum secundum volumen (RISM 1565a) for four to ten voices, in
which no group is modally ordered.19
Between 1571 and 1573 Le Roy and Ballard published six books of
Lasso motets. They include a significant number of new pieces that Lasso
may have composed during and after his visit to Paris, as well as motets that
had been published in Italy and Germany but not yet in France.All six are in
almost perfect modal ordering. The one book that consisted entirely of first
editions, Moduli quinis vocibus (RISM 1571a), may serve as an example (see
Table 10.8). The only motet apparently out of modal order is no. 7,“Si bona
suscepimus,” which according to its tonal type should represent mode 3/4,
but is placed within the mode 2 group. In the six motet books of 1571–3 two
pieces in H/0/A appear, following the representatives of mode 3/4 and
mode 8 respectively.
In a large motet book a few years later, Moduli quatuor 5.6.7.8. et
novem vocum (RISM 1577e), eleven of its fifty-five pieces are first editions.
Only the six-voice motets (nos. 21–50) are sufficiently numerous to be
modally ordered, though somewhat imperfectly (see Table 10.9). Four rep-
19 Further on these collections see CM, vol. 4, which includes all the motets from
these two books that were first editions. The contents of both books are listed
ibid., pp. xii–xiii.
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peter bergquist
Table 10.8 RISM 1571a, Moduli quinis vocibus (Le Roy & Ballard)
Number Clefs/Signature/Final Mode represented
21–4 H/1/G 1 tr
25–6 L/1/G 2 tr
25–7 L/1/A 3/4 tr
25–8 L/1/G 2 tr
29–11 L/0/E 3/4
12–13 H/1/F 5
14–15 L/1/F 6
16–17 H/0/G 7
18–19 L/0/G 8
resentatives of mode 8 begin the group, which then continues with only
minor disorder within modes 1 and 2 and no representatives of mode 7. No.
41, in H/0/A, appears between the representatives of modes 2 and 3/4.
Le Roy and Ballard published four more large books of Lasso motets
in 1587–8, which are modally ordered to a degree, though less strictly than
216
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
those of 1571–3. The Sacrarum cantionum moduli for four voices (RISM
1587d) is an especially interesting example, since much of it had previously
appeared two times with different methods of organization.20 The earliest
source for most of these motets is Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek,
Mus. Ms. 2744, which contains a cycle of Lasso’s four- and five-voice set-
tings of offertories for Advent and Lent, arranged in calendrical order. The
manuscript bears dates between 1581 and 1583. In 1585 Lasso published
many of the four-voice offertories and a few other motets in Sacrae can-
tiones quatuor vocum (Munich: Adam Berg, RISM 1585a); in this collection
the pieces were grouped by tonal type, with signature and cleffing as the
primary factors. Only the subgroups of these categories were sorted
according to final, so that modal ordering did not result. Le Roy and Ballard
in RISM 1587d placed the motets in modal order, also adding a few more
four-voice settings of offertory texts that had not appeared in RISM 1585a
(see Table 10.10). The ordering was not perfect, since mode 6 preceded
mode 5 and mode 8 preceded mode 7. Two pieces in H/0/A follow the repre-
20 A more detailed account of these sources and their relationships may be found
in Powers, “Modal Representation.” See also David Crook’s preface to CM, vol.
14, which publishes the contents of RISM 1585a.
217
peter bergquist
sentatives of mode 2.21 The three motet books of 1588 (RISM 1588c, d, and
e) are in similarly imperfect modal order, with the plagal representatives
several times preceding the authentic.In the four-voice motets of 1588c one
in H/0/A appears following mode 8 and preceding mode 3/4, which is out of
sequence; in 1588d three in H/0/A follow mode 2 and precede mode 1; and
in 1588e three in H/0/A follow those in mode 6 and precede mode 3/4,
which is out of sequence.
It is clear that modal ordering was a fundamental principle in Le Roy
and Ballard’s publications of Lasso’s music. To what extent this is true in
their other publications is a question that merits further investigation.
Germany
In the German realms Lasso had two principal publishers,Adam Berg
in Munich and the firm of Montanus and Neuber, with its successors
Theodor Gerlach and his widow Katharina Gerlach, in Nuremberg. Both
houses issued a number of modally ordered publications by Lasso, though
this principle was by no means so pervasive as with Le Roy and Ballard in
Paris.
Even before any of his music was printed in Germany, Lasso around
1560 composed his earliest modally ordered collection of any sort, the
famous Seven Penitential Psalms with the psalm-motet “Laudate
Dominum de caelis.” Many other modally ordered collections were prob-
ably assembled in that order after composition, but in this case modal
ordering was clearly a pre-compositional decision on Lasso’s part. He chose
to represent modes 1–7 in the Seven Penitential Psalms, which had existed
for centuries as a liturgical unit, then added the psalm-motet to them to
represent mode 8. In this cycle modes 3 and 4 are clearly differentiated, con-
trary to the usual practice, with mode 4 represented by an unusually low
combination of clefs.22
Powers has discussed several of Lasso’s German motet books that are
218
m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
modally ordered, notably the five-voice Sacrae cantiones of RISM 1562a
(Nuremberg: Montanus & Neuber), two complementary books from Berg
in 1569 and 1570 (Cantiones aliquot quinque vocum [RISM 1569a] and
Cantionum sacrarum sex vocum fasciculus [RISM 1570c]), the Cantiones ad
duas vocum (Berg, RISM 1577c), a large collection of reprints from Gerlach
(RISM 1582c), and Lasso’s last motet book, Cantiones sacrae sex vocum
(Graz: Georg Widmanstetter, RISM 1594a).23 His last composition,
Lagrime di San Pietro (Berg, RISM 1595a), a cycle of spiritual madrigals, is
also modally ordered. This cycle corresponds to the Penitential Psalms at
the beginning of Lasso’s career in that both set a pre-existing cycle of texts,
thus the modal ordering was a compositional choice. Lasso selected twenty
poems from the larger poetic cycle by Luigi Tansillo, leaving the poems in
the order established by Tansillo, then set successive groups so as to repre-
sent modes 1–7.24 Where mode 8 would be expected to appear, the final
piece in the cycle, the Latin motet “Vide homo,” is rather in H/0/A. Powers
argues persuasively that the modal cycle is broken for reasons of religious
symbolism, to do both with the poems and Lasso’s own impending death.25
In the Graz motet book, RISM 1594a, the position of mode 7 is filled by two
motets in H/0/A. David Crook suggests that this tonal type that had a “long-
standing association . . . with tone-seven Magnificats”was used to represent
mode 7 in the Graz motet book.26 These are the only appearances of the
tonal type H/0/A in German modally ordered collections of Lasso’s motets.
Some editions of Lasso’s lieder for five voices were also modally
ordered. Book I (Munich: Adam Berg, RISM 1567l) is in perfect modal
order, with one piece, “Frölich zu sein,” seemingly in L/0/A appearing
between the representatives of modes 7 and 8 (see Table 10.11). However, it
has been argued that this piece ends “out of mode” for expressive purposes,
and that it should be understood as a representative of mode 8.27 Book II of
23 Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 451–2, 462–5; “Anomalous Modalities,” pp. 238–42.
Further on these collections see the appropriate volumes of CM.
24 On Lasso’s sources for the text of this cycle, see Fritz Jensch, “Orlando di Lassos
Lagrime di San Pietro und ihr Text,” Musik in Bayern, 32 (1986), pp. 43–62, and
the introduction to his edition of the Lagrime in SWNR, vol. 20.
25 Powers, “Tonal Types,” p. 449.
26 David Crook, Orlando di Lasso’s Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation
Munich (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), pp. 142–4.
27 Bergquist, “Compositions in ‘A Minor’,” p. 14 (with further references).
219
peter bergquist
Table 10.11 RISM 1567l, Neue Teütsche Liedlein mit Fünff Stimmen
(Munich, Berg; SW vol. 18, 1ff.)
Number Clefs/Signature/Final Mode represented
21, 2, 4–6 H/1/G 1 tr
23 L/0/D 1
27–8 L/1/G 2 tr
29–10 L/0/E 3/4
11 H/1/F 5
12 L/1/F 6
13 H/0/G 7
14 [ending “out of mode”?] L/0/A A? 8?
15 L/0/G 8
the lieder (Berg, RISM 1572g) is not modally ordered, and Book III (Berg,
RISM 1576r) is only partially so. However, Katharina Gerlach’s
Gesamtausgabe of all of the five-voice lieder in RISM 1583b, published
“with the author’s consent,”rearranges the three earlier books substantially
in modal order (see Table 10.12). The nine pieces with religious texts appear
first and include no representatives of modes 7 and 8. The thirty-two set-
tings of secular texts are in precise modal order, except for two pieces that
seem to end out of mode, Nos. 22 (“Meine Fraw Hilgart”) and 39 (“Frölich
zu sein”). The two pieces in H/0/A are placed between modes 2 and 3/4.
One German publication remains to be discussed, the posthumous
collected edition of Lasso’s motets, Magnum Opus Musicum (Munich:
Nicholas Heinrich, RISM 1604a). In this collection Lasso’s sons Ferdinand
and Rudolph published all of their father’s motets known to them, a total of
516. Only eleven motets escaped their notice, the authenticity of at least two
of which is debatable.28 In MOM the basic organizing principle was the
number of voice-parts; the collection begins with two-voice motets and
continues in ascending order of voices until it ends with two motets for
twelve voices each. Only recently has Horst Leuchtmann shown the next
level of organization.29 Each group of motets for a given number of voices is
28 These eleven motets are published in SWNR, vol. 1, including the 1989
supplement. In CM, vol. 5, pp. xvi–xix, I detail the reasons why I believe that
Lasso did not compose “Zachaee, festinans descende” and “Gloria Patri.”
29 Leuchtmann, “Zum Ordnungsprinzip in Lassos Magnum Opus Musicum,”
Musik in Bayern, 40 (1990), pp. 46–72.
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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
Table 10.12 RISM 1583b, Teutsche Lieder mit fünff Stimmen, zuvor
unterschiedlich, jetzund aber mit des Herrn Authoris bewilligung inn
ein Opus zusammen getruckt (Nuremberg, Gerlach)
Number Clefs/Signature/Final Mode represented
Religious texts
1–2 H/1/G 1 tr
3 L/1/G 2 tr
4 H/1/G 1 tr
5 L/0/E 3/4
6 H/1/F 5
7–8 L/1/F 6
9 H/0/C 6 tr
Secular texts
10, 12–16 H/1/G 1 tr
11 L/0/D 1
17–21 L/1/G 2 tr
22 [ending “out of mode”?] L/1/A 3/4? 2?
23 H/0/D 2 tr 8ve
24–5 H/0/A A
26–30 L/0/E 3/4
31–2 H/1/F 5
33–4 L/1/F 6
35–8 H/0/G 7
39 [ending “out of mode”?] L/0/A A? 8?
40 L/0/G 8
41 H/1/C 8 tr
subdivided into four categories that appear in the following order: (1) cele-
bratory motets, for the Bavarian rulers and other individuals and families;
(2) sacred texts in the order of the church year; (3) motets on texts from the
book of Psalms; (4) religious and secular poetry. This division does not
apply to the two-voice motets of RISM 1577c,which appear in their original
order in MOM, and small groups such as the motets for seven, nine, and ten
voices do not include representatives of each of the four categories.
Leuchtmann observed that consecutive motets, sometimes in substantial
numbers, were in the same mode (he spoke only of dorian, phrygian,
lydian, and mixolydian), but that no systematic ordering according to
mode seemed to govern the collection. Whenever a series might seem to
appear, foreign elements intervened.30
30 Ibid., pp. 46–7.
221
peter bergquist
However, Leuchtmann’s establishment of the four fundamental cate-
gories within the motets for each number of voices, in conjunction with
Lasso’s usage of tonal types to represent modes, allows us to see that large
segments of MOM, namely the settings of psalms and psalm verses, are
modally ordered. As shown in Table 10.13, the psalm-motets for four, five,
and six voices in MOM are modally ordered, most perfectly so in the five-
voice group, nearly so in the four-voice group, and somewhat less clearly in
the six-voice group. Motets in other subject categories sometimes show an
incipient modal ordering that is not pursued consistently. The five-voice
psalm-motets have only two pieces out of order, no. 271, “Si bona suscepi-
mus,” in L/1/A, which should represent mode 3/4 transposed and be placed
near the L/0/E motets that represent mode 3/4 untransposed, and no. 282,
in H/0/A, which appears between modes 7 and 8 rather than with its com-
panion, no. 265. In the four-voice psalm-motets the pieces in H/0/A
separate the representatives of mode 3/4 transposed and untransposed
respectively, pieces in modes 5 and 6 are intermixed, and nos. 125–6 separ-
ate the representatives of mode 8 transposed and untransposed. In the six-
voice psalm-motets modal ordering seems to be present, but it is frequently
interrupted, not only by motets in H/0/A but other tonal types displaced
from what would be their proper place in a modally ordered collection.
These observations about MOM appear significant in that they suggest that
modal ordering was a principle known to Lasso’s sons and that they most
probably learned it from their father, whether by direct instruction or
simply by observation. It is true that the ordering in MOM could have been
decided by the publisher, who was Adam Berg’s successor; in that case
modal ordering would appear to have been derived from Lasso through
Berg to Heinrich, even though that principle was by no means applied uni-
versally in Berg’s publications.
Conclusions
Modal ordering clearly prevailed in a large number of publications of
Orlando di Lasso’s music, including many with which he was closely asso-
ciated. One of the most fundamental questions about this phenomenon is,
was the modal ordering Lasso’s intention or that of his publishers? It
appears that many of these publications do indeed represent Lasso’s own
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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
Table 10.13 Psalm-motets and psalm verse settings in MOM
Number Clefs/Signature/Final Mode represented
Settings a4
82–5 L/0/D 1
86–92 H/1/G 1 tr
93–100 L/1/G 2 tr
101 L/1/A 3/4 tr
102–4 H/0/A A
105–9 L/0/E 3/4
110–11 H/1/F 5
112–18 L/1/F 6
119 H/1/F 5
120–1 H/0/C 6 tr
122–3 H/0/G 7
124 H/1/C 8 tr
125 H/1/F 5
126 H/0/A A
127–37 L/0/G 8
Settings a5
239–44 H/1/G 1 tr
245–54 L/1/G 2 tr
255 H/0/D 2 tr 8ve
256–64 L/0/E 3/4
265 H/0/A A
266–70 H/1/F 5
271 (Si bona suscepimus) L/1/A 3/4 tr
272–80 L/1/F 6
281, 283–4 H/0/G 7
282 H/0/A A
285–7 L/0/G 8
Settings a6
416 H/0/G (7)
417–20 H/1/G 1 tr
421–4 L/0/D 1
425–30 L/1/G 2 tr
431–6 L/0/E 3/4
437 H/1/C (8 tr)
438 L/0/F 6
439, 442 H/1/F 5
440–1 H/0/C 6 tr
443, 446–7 L/1/F 6
448, 450, 452 H/0/A (A)
449 H/0/C 6 tr
451 H/0/G 7
453 H/0/D (2 tr 8ve)
454 H/0/G 7
455 H/0/C (6 tr)
456 H/0/A (A)
457–9, 461–2 L/0/G 8
460 L/0/E (3/4)
peter bergquist
preference.A first observation would be that at the beginning and end of his
time in Munich the Penitential Psalms and the Lagrime di San Pietro were
composed to texts that had a predetermined order. Lasso’s settings are in the
order of the modes and undoubtedly composed with the intention of repre-
senting the modes. The uniformity of affect through both of these collec-
tions also casts strong doubt on any possibility that the individual modes
had specific and invariable expressive connotations. Lasso may more than
once have used a given tonal type to convey a specific affect, but it can hardly
be elevated to a consistent practice.
Most of the collections discussed in this study were probably put in
order for publication after the individual pieces were composed and assem-
bled. Since the texts themselves were too varied to provide a basis for order-
ing their settings, musical criteria would be the logical alternative. This
would be especially true of the large collected editions like the various
Meslanges, the lieder of RISM 1583b, and the motets of RISM 1582c. Lasso is
said to have consented to or overseen all of these publications, and it is
difficult to escape the conclusion that the ordering also represents his inten-
tions. Boetticher’s statement that Lasso could hardly have authorized the
reorderings in the 1583 lieder is without foundation.31 The original edi-
tions were already modally ordered in part, and the collected edition
retained and extended that ordering when the three books were combined.
The three issues of the Meslanges are especially instructive about Lasso’s
intentions. The first edition, RISM 1570d, was fairly well modally ordered,
and 1576d, issued after Lasso’s visit to Paris and with his own supervision
and revision, is almost perfectly ordered. RISM 1586g, issued after Lasso
had given up any thought of moving to Paris and was perhaps less directly
involved with the details of the edition, disturbs the clear ordering of
1576d. The modal ordering seems to have been most rigorous when Lasso
was in most direct contact with Le Roy and Ballard and in closest control of
their issues of his music. The same comparison seems to be true of the
31 Boetticher, Lasso, p. 323. His suggestion that the phrase “mit des Herrn Authoris
bewilligung” in the title of RISM 1583b is not to be taken at face value is
supported only by reference to his comments on Gerlach’s large motet
compilation, the Selectissimae cantiones of RISM 1568a and b. The validity of
Boetticher’s comments on 1568a and b is debatable, and their application to
another collection fifteen years later even more so.
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m o da l o r d e r i n g w i t h i n l as s o ’ s p u b l i c at i o n s
motet books of 1571–3 as against those of 1587 and 1588. It appears that
Lasso’s control was tightest near the time of his Paris visit, and that the
earlier books with their careful modal ordering represent his intentions
most fully.
It is also reasonable to assume that the German prints usually repre-
sent Lasso’s own intentions. Several of them cite his participation or
approval on their title pages, and many of the others contain his own dedi-
catory prefaces. Modal ordering is found in quite a number of these prints,
as has been seen, though by no means did Berg and Gerlach order each of
their Lasso publications on that basis. In the 1580s, in fact, Berg ordered
several motet books primarily on the basis of clef and signature, as was
noted with regard to RISM 1585a. Berg’s Sacrae cantiones quinque vocum
(RISM 1582d), Motetta sex vocum (RISM 1582e), and Cantica sacra sex et
octo vocum (RISM 1585b) all group the motets in cantus mollis first, fol-
lowed by those in cantus durus.32 Within these two groups the compositions
in high clefs precede those in low clefs. In all three books different finals are
intermixed within the four subgroups, so that ordering by tonal type does
not result. This was clearly an alternate method of ordering for Berg and
presumably for Lasso also. It was not used simply because potential repre-
sentatives of all eight modes were not available. In these three books and
also in RISM 1585a, only RISM 1585b would be unable to represent all eight
modes, since it includes no motets that could stand for modes 5 and 8.
Another conclusion to be drawn from this investigation has to do
with pieces in H/0/A or L/0/A. How did Lasso regard them with respect to
the system of eight modes? Powers suggested that for Lasso they were
anomalous, and he mentioned only two modally ordered collections that
contain such pieces, the Graz motets (RISM 1594a) and the Lagrime di San
Pietro, in which pieces in A appear “in place of ” mode 7 or mode 8.33 With
more publications to consider, the picture is perhaps clearer. Table 10.14
summarizes the placement of pieces in H/0/A or L/0/A in Lasso’s modally
ordered publications. The most frequent placement of these pieces is after
mode 8, after the cycle has been completed. The next most frequent place-
ment is before mode 1, before the cycle begins. There is also some associa-
tion with mode 3/4, an association that had always been observed in theory
32 Powers, “Tonal Types,” Table 13, p. 465, shows the organization of RISM 1582d
and 1582e. 33 Powers, “Tonal Types,” pp. 449 and 464 with Tables 4 and 14.
225
peter bergquist
226
11 Correct and incorrect accentuation in Lasso’s
music: on the implied dependence on the text in
classical vocal polyphony
horst leuchtmann
The title of this essay could awaken the impression that there are
“correct”and“incorrect”stresses on the words in the vocal polyphony of the
sixteenth century, including the works of Orlando di Lasso. This is of course
not so,otherwise Lasso and Palestrina and many others would not have been
elevated to the ranks of great masters in music. None the less there is some-
thing in that formulation. The “correct” text stresses are the usual ones that
are arranged in accordance with the musical meter. The so-called “incor-
rect” stresses are “incorrect” in their relationship to the meter and thus
achievemuchstrongereffects thanthe“correct”ones.For thisreason,infact,
the metrically“incorrect”stresses are much less common than the“correct”
ones,but they are found in all kinds of works from every period and continue
to be reserved for special emphasis. If they were mistakes, one would expect
that the masters would gradually have improved them and removed them
from use.This is not the case.One who wishes to learn about this distinction
may discover it throughout Lasso’s work, from the Prophetiae Sibyllarum to
the Lagrime di San Pietro, and not in his music alone. That one generally
knows nothing of such a distinction,and that one is usually not aware of it,is
connected with the circumstance that our mass-music culture transfers its
preference for the soft, full, blended sound of the mixed chorus to all music,
even the old and the oldest,and the difficulties inherent in these refinements
go by the wayside.But we must explore further.
The composition of sixteenth-century vocal polyphony is the art of
consonance, and is subject principally to four important rules, which
should not be ignored in theory or in practice:
(1) Simultaneities or chords consist largely of consonances.
Dissonances require special handling.
227
horst leuchtmann
(2) Consonances consist of triads, whose roots are almost always the
lowest tones in any given chord. The period also knew what we call six-three
and six-four chords, but used them in insignificantly small numbers.
(3) Metric organization in duple mensurations calls for stress on
beats 1 and 3, in triple mensurations only on 1. The other beats are consid-
ered weaker.What we designate today as an accenting pulse, which we ques-
tionably brought into the performance practice of sixteenth-century
polyphony from later music, is in reality a rule also for that polyphony, a
rule that eventually came into appearance in the regulated use of dissonant
passing tones, of dissonance in general, and the suspension in particular.
With regard to interval successions Pietro Pontio (1532–95) spoke in 1588
of the difference between the metric positions nel principio and nel fine,
between depositione and elevatione;1 other theorists differentiate between
thesis and arsis, between “good”and “bad”time (beat or part of the measure,
as we say today). This phenomenon of the unequal parts of the measure is
clearly brought to light in the frequent rejoicing passages in triple propor-
tion,2 whose impetus pulls the texts along with it and sometimes actually
forces a “falsely accentuated” delivery. The cadences also – in any case the
discant clausulas – are metrically determined and sometimes develop a
similar pull.
(4) Vocal polyphony means texts sung by singers; texts are the occa-
sion for and content of vocal music and precede its composition. The deliv-
ery of words is the main purpose of vocal music.
228
correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
The many manuscript and printed music treatises, especially those of
the sixteenth century, are not at all what we understand today as textbooks
and composition methods. They list many but not all of the important con-
siderations in composing, and basically they convey only the main outlines
of instruction that was traditionally conveyed in more detail orally. They
present the precepts of interval progressions, but they touch little if at all on
the relationships among the main conditions mentioned in the four points
above. On into the present century one has thus understood counterpoint
to be an abstract theory of intervals, forgetting the treatment of the text in
relation to the meter, since counterpoint,which was originally vocal, has for
a long time been comprehended and manipulated as purely instrumental.
Counterpoint is still understood as the system of several simultaneous and
above all equal, independent (!) lines. Reginald O. Morris (1886–1948) was
perhaps the first to bring back into recognition the insufficiency, indeed the
falsity, of such an outlook.3 It is especially striking that stresses derived
from the text, so important for composition as well as performance, have
received and continue to receive so little attention in writing as well as in
performance. Insecurity in connection with the musical stress on words
and the displacement of that musical stress may be seen very clearly in
Gustave Reese’s valuable book on Renaissance music.4 The precisely infor-
mative index notes almost two dozen passages that are concerned with
questions of accentuation of the words, and even so the questions are not
answered, but rather obscured through the enigmatic listing of “three
forms of dislocation of the stress.”5
On page 159 and elsewhere Reese ascribes “rhythmic nicety and
correct accentuation”to the frottolists. About Josquin on the other hand he
is obliged to say:“Latin accents are not infrequently mishandled, even in his
latest works, although, inconsistently, at other times great care seems to be
exercised in this matter” (p. 245).6 Even more clearly: “Humanistic
3 Reginald O. Morris, Contrapuntal Technique in the Sixteenth Century (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1922; 7th ed. 1958).
4 Gustave Reese, Music in the Renaissance (New York: Norton, 1954; rev. ed. 1959).
5 Ibid., p. 354. All page references are the same in the revised edition of 1959.
6 In the revised edition this sentence reads: “When one examines his treatment of
Latin texts, one quite often finds this French composer influenced by his native
language rather than by the humanistic concept of the proper handling of Latin
accent.”
229
horst leuchtmann
influence, however, does not induce the composer [Josquin] to observe syl-
labic quantities [!] strictly, though he and his contemporaries offend less in
the handling of Latin quantity than had their predecessors” (p. 253). Here
we see the mixture and confusion of accentual “stress” and syllabic “quan-
tity” that often appears elsewhere and results only in confusion. Willaert by
contrast is praised without reservation: “Willaert’s three main contribu-
tions to sacred polyphony in Italy – the last two apparently made solely . . .
through his motets, etc. – were (1) the establishment of Franco-
Netherlandish technique as a part of the musical language of church music
there; (2) the development of choral antiphony; and (3) the cultivation of a
‘modern’ style emphasizing faultless declamation of the text” (p. 372).
Indeed, “his concern for correct declamation extends to voices that treat
words free of dramatic import” (p. 374).“In view of the strict regulation in
Palestrina style of what may or may not be done on the first and third beats
or on the second and fourth, one tends to feel that those investigators take
an exaggerated position who claim that there was no regular accentuation
in Renaissance polyphony” (p. 461). That is certainly correct, although in a
broader sense than Reese may have realized. To be sure, he mentions the
phenomenon of a stress contrary to the metrical pattern (p. 461), but he
says nothing about its musical justification or meaning or the practicalities
of how it should be performed. As we intend to show, it is not only a long or
high note standing on a weak beat that displaces the regular stress for a short
time, and mainly in one voice only. The question arises whether such occa-
sional offenses against the accentual flow are acceptable or intended and, if
the latter, why.
The extent to which counterpoint instruction has lost sight of its
original subject, a subject that found its strongest development in the six-
teenth century, and has indeed denied it expressis verbis, is shown not only
in instructional works that no longer know about text setting but also in the
instructions that actually lead students away from the subject. I cite at
random a representative text long famous in its time, Luigi Cherubini’s
Cours de contrepoint et de fugue.7 The book already shows in its
7 Luigi Cherubini, Cours de contrepoint et de fugue (Paris, 1835), cited from
Theorie des Kontrapunktes und der Fuge in neuer Übersetzung. Bearbeitet, mit
Anmerkungen und einem Anhang über die Alten Kirchentonarten versehen von
Gustav Jensen (Cologne and Leipzig: vom Ende, 1896), p. 3. The foreword to the
230
correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
“Introductory Fundamental Principles” that counterpoint is now to be
understood ideally as instrumental counterpoint:
From this perspective only vocal music is limited to the range of the voices
alone, which cannot do full justice to the art of counterpoint.
The framework of individual sonorities in free composition can be
quickly set out. The foundation is the lowest tone at any given moment, the
upper voice is the most important in the sonorous realm (the tenor has
already lost its primacy, as is well known), and the middle voices, alto and
tenor,“fill in”the sonority. They may sometimes distinguish between major
and minor, but otherwise have only a single, narrowly proscribed freedom,
that of rhythm. Morris states it in more detail:
For three hundred years or so we have been slaves of the bar line, and our
conception of rhythm has become purely metrical. We learn, probably, to
distinguish between “secondary” rhythm, which places a strong accent at the
beginning of each bar and admits a certain variety of figure in between those
accents, and “primary” rhythm which measures out the bars themselves into
neat regular groups, usually of two, four, and eight. . . . Of the wider
implications of the term “rhythm” and of its true nature, we have suffered
ourselves to remain in complacent ignorance. . . . In that period [the
sixteenth century] there is no confusion between rhythm and metre. The
rhythmical accentuation of each part is free, but, independently of the actual
rhythmic accents, there is an imaginary metrical accentuation which imposes
a regular alternation of strong and weak beats to which the harmony of the
German edition states on p. iii that “the musical examples are for the most part
by Cherubini himself, partly by Johann Josef Fux [1660–1741] and Friedrich
Wilhelm Marpurg [1718–1795]. The text is not by Cherubini but probably by
Jacques Halévy.”
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horst leuchtmann
composition has to conform, although the melody of each voice pursues its
own way untrammelled. As soon as a student begins the study of sixteenth-
century music, this is the first fact to force itself on his notice; he finds out
that in order to write in the idiom of Morley or Orlando Lasso or Vittoria, he
has to slough all his old preconceptions, and ask himself, perhaps for the first
time, what rhythm really is. This, as was said, is by far the most valuable
lesson a composer has to learn, at the moment, from a study of this period.
One might add, too, that it is possible to search diligently through all the
text-books, English and foreign, of the last three hundred years, and never
find so much as a hint of it, to put the student on the right track . . . the
rhythmic principle – the only principle that really matters. 8
Thus meter – within the tactus – acts as a principle of order behind all
that is done and becomes perceptible through its manifestations: conso-
nance, dissonance, suspension, passing tone, stress, and absence of stress.
The individual (melodic) voices move against this (sonorous) background
within the bounds of their compositional possibilities. Morris states that
the rhythmical accentuation of each individual part is free, that is to say, the
accents do not occur at strictly regular intervals, whereas the composition
as a whole does conform to a fixed metrical scheme in which strong and
weak accents succeed one another in a pre-determined order. . . . In the
rhythm of poetry there is a precisely similar duality, as any one may quickly
convince himself. . . . Too much coincidence means monotony; too much
at-oddness means chaos.9
(1) Accents should be neither too many nor too few. There must be enough
of them to hold the melody firmly together and prevent it, so to speak, from
sagging, but they should not be so close together as to detract from each
other’s importance.
(2) The rhythm of a phrase is frequently (some would say “always”)
anacrusic; that is to say, the accented note is not necessarily the first note of
the phrase, but may be preceded by an unaccented note or series of notes –
an “up-beat” as we should call it today.
8 Morris, Contrapuntal Technique, pp. 3–4.
9 Ibid., p. 17. 10 Ibid., Appendix, p. 6
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correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
w ˙ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Ex. 38
&Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ . œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w #˙ ›
Ex. 39a
6 4 6 w ˙ w ˙ 4 bw
& w w 2 w ˙ w ˙ 2 bw w w nw 2 2 w
&c.
Sta - bat ma - ter do - lo - ro - sa, jux - ta cru - cem la - cri - mo - sa
Ex. 40. Ibidem.
?3 w w w ww ww .. ˙˙ # ww ww ww ww .. ˙˙ ww w ›
w › w w w
1 w w w
ww w› w w w w w › › › &c.
& ww .. ˙˙ ww #w w w › w › a ww ›
man - do Chris - tum De - um, ut si - bi com - pla - ce - am
w. ˙ w w # ww .. ˙˙ ww ww w . ˙ # ›
? w. ˙ w › w # ww w w w
w › w w ›
Ex. 40a (The note-values reduced for the purpose of illustration to their approximate modern equivalent).
4 œ œ 5 œ. œ œ œ œ 4 œ. œ œ œ 5 ˙ 4 3
&4 œ œ 4 J 4 J 4 # œ œ œ 4 œ . Jœ œ œ 2
Fac ut te- cum lu - ge- am, fac ut ar - de- at cor me - um, in a - man - do Chris- tum
Ex. 41 Morales, Officium Defunctorum, Lectio III
3 > 42
2 > 32
3 œ œ œ œ œ 5 ˙ ˙ #œ ˙ 4 &c.
&2 œ 4 2 w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w
De - um, ut si - bi com- pla - ce - am ma - nus tu - ae fe - ce - runt me
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horst leuchtmann
to his already completed composition; in any case he refers in the later
course of his presentation to the compositional technique of the fifteenth
century, with its melismatic compositions that are provided only with hints
of the text. It also does not seem entirely correct to ignore completely the
influence of the mensuration:“It has already been said more than once that
the time-signature at the beginning of a sixteenth-century composition is
of purely metrical significance, exercising an important influence on the
harmonic structure of the composition, but having nothing to do with the
rhythmical structure of the parts taken individually.”11 His own Examples
39A, 40, and 40A contradict this conclusion, since a ternary mensuration
exercises such force that the word stresses are set aside as almost without
effect, a circumstance that may be observed in almost all triple time. Here
the “rhythm of the words” reflects only the meter and not the textual
stress.12 On the other hand, Morris’s comments about the stress marks in
his Example 41 are correct:“It must be remembered that the stress marks do
not indicate anything in the nature of a violent sforzando, but are there
merely to show that the rhythmic accents do not necessarily coincide with
the metrical accents.”13 The presumed “difficulties” – in fact there are none
– lie elsewhere. It is, to be sure, important for performance to caution
against Morris’s advice, which is based on modern conducting technique:
“A slight increase in dynamic stress – for which the choirmaster can be
trusted – is all that is needed to make its rhythmical importance unmistak-
able.” One must add that metric stress, contrary to Morris’s statement, is in
no way “imaginary.” Quite the contrary: all of the harmony is determined
by it, and only with this background is the rhythmic freedom of the individ-
ual voices possible, perceptible, and effective. Morris states correctly:
“Above all, they [the sixteenth-century composers] loved to make the
rhythmical accents of each part cross and clash with those of every other
part.” In this connection, however, a few more cautions are needed, as will
be shown.
Let us linger further with Morris. His Example 38 (only one voice!)
illustrates the breathtakingly complicated, on the whole unconductable,
polyrhythm, that with the help of language and its declamation is hidden
behind the simple notation. And yet such (polyphonic!) passages run their
234
correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
course by themselves if only the tempo for all voices is held steady. What
seems very complicated or even confused in Morris when it is taken apart
rhythmically and interpreted, comes to pass of its own accord in a perfor-
mance with correct text declamation, provided that the singers understand
what they are singing.
The persistence with which the question of textual stress is continu-
ally brought up in theoretical writings should arouse attention. The ter-
minological uncertainty with which the claim is raised from time to time
that a “long” syllable must be made prominent with a long tone proves that
in this instance vestiges of classical versification must have been progeni-
tors. However, the classical meters had long since become only a play-
ground for humanists, who turned out their artful Latin verses following
refined metrical patterns whose vocabulary consisted of quantities, with
syllables either considered to be short or established as long. To form these
into structures that only the connoisseur could appreciate, not only by
counting syllables but also following artistic rules about syllables consid-
ered as short, made the composer into a master, whether he wrote the verse
or only set it. In any case, the number of antique odes and verses that were
composed mercilessly betrays that an archaic genre had been embraced
here. The list of Lasso’s works includes a handful of such antiquarian
affectations, which as is well known were awakened once again during
Lasso’s lifetime to a short artificial life in the works of the French school of
poets known as the “Pléiade.”14 Apart from this the poetic art of the modern
vernacular languages, which had worked for a long time with tonic accent
and/or syllable counting, prevailed. These new parameters do not play an
important role, so far as I can see, either in scholarly music literature or in
present-day performances of older music.
However, a tonic accent may very well be meant when careless
mention is made of “quantity.” All this is praised and marveled at in Lasso,
but also censured in part (for instance, his fondness for text expression); the
censure arises of course only in hindsight. But the coordination of accentu-
ation of pitch and word stress in his works has nowhere as yet been exam-
ined thoroughly. Musicology has little if any interest in these fundamental
14 For example, “Sidus ex claro,” “Nuptias claras,” “O decus celsi,” “Flemus
extremos,” “Heu quis armorum,” “Nuntium vobis fero,” “Alma Venus,” “Une
puce,” and others.
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horst leuchtmann
questions, and in performance practice these subtleties are lost through
modern conducting technique. In this respect, which is significant for an
art that intends to translate words into tones, there is also no difference
between Lasso and his contemporaries. He too sometimes stresses “falsely,”
as a superficial examination may seem to demonstrate.15 In fact this “fault”
is an uncommonly refined possibility for creating liveliness and impres-
siveness in music through the simplest means.
One may compare these discussions with those in the collected
edition of Cipriano de Rore. In his discussion of ascriptions the editor lists
stylistic details that speak for or against Rore’s authorship. Among the neg-
ative indications he lists “Barbarismus.”
Other traits that speak against Rore’s authorship are the omission of the
subsemitonium of the cadence . . . and the occurrence of barbarisms like
virtuté, resúrrectionis, or verbúm [in the motet “Virtute magna – Repleti
quidem”]. These peculiarities, it is true, are frequent in masters like
Gombert or Clemens non Papa and those influenced by them; but it was
Willaert who turned away from these practices about 1540,16 and Rore,
15 This is not the proper place to go into the reception of Lasso. It should be noted
none the less how severely the great Lasso scholar Adolf Sandberger distorted
matters when he spoke unintentionally against presumed mistaken accents in
Lasso’s settings: “Orlando stresses mostly following the verbal accent, in the
most frequent cases exactly as it must be stressed in accented verse, as may be
seen similarly in Palestrina. But then we see the composer uncounted times
displace the tone on which he comes to rest, following neither the accent of the
word nor the metric accent, a procedure hardly to be approved, and one which
is pursued to the distortion of word forms. On the other hand, the effort to do
justice to the penultimate syllable is unmistakable” (SW, vol. 2, p. xxiii). Balmer,
Lassos Motetten, p. 100, is no different, and Horst-Willi Gross, Klangliche
Struktur und Klangverhältnis in Messen und lateinischen Motetten Orlando di
Lassos (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1977), p. 74, note 24, in his discussion of
Lasso’s motet, “Memento peccati tui,” SW, vol. 7, p. 60, comments, “Note the
unusual (!) stress in the musical structure on the words ‘ne despéres’.” Franz
Xaver Haberl, Sandberger’s collaborator in the so-called “old” Lasso collected
edition (SW), even took up his pen now and then against unusual stresses and
made corrections according to his own judgment. See SW, vol. 5, pp. 131 and
150, the latter a barbarism that Haberl should have let stand as typical of the
time.
16 This is not correct. One might consider – at random – even the first motet in
Willaert’s Musica nova, “Domine quid multiplicati sunt – Ego dormivi.” Among
the large number of lengthened stresses, a few stresses on weak beats, without
lengthening, occur even so. The following list is not intended to be complete:
236
correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
together with the other “Italianized” Netherlanders, faithfully followed his
example.17
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horst leuchtmann
Herbert K.Andrews (1904–65) adopts a great deal from Morris and in
part goes very much further, for example, in the question of barlines, which
he wishes to consider only as marks of orientation. He names five “factors
governing accent in the normal vocal line”: (1) the relative length of a tone
with respect to smaller values that precede or follow it; (2) a prominent high
pitch; (3) an approach to a note by a leap upward; (4) the position of a note
in a melodic phrase (the beginning tones of a melodic phrase tend to have
the character of an upbeat and thus are relatively unaccented); and (5) the
text underlay.20 Andrews then gives a musical example from Palestrina (see
Ex. 11.2), which he chooses at random. His rhythmic analysis proceeds
from the score and takes account of the five factors he names. Without a
doubt nothing may be adduced against the results of his efforts, but rather
against his methods, the rules for which do not hold water with their vexa-
tious imagination of stresses in, for example, unnecessary or unconvincing
melodic motions. Andrews prefers not to understand irregular word
accents as stresses but rather works to excuse them on compositional
grounds, for reasons of voice-leading: “Yet the effect of the whole gives an
unmistakable feeling of the four pulse metrical rhythm; there is at least one
stress rhythm accent on the first pulse of every measure and on the third
pulse of all save the second.”21 The present essay is concerned with the
mastery of the composers of Lasso’s time in breaking through the inflexible
meter by means of an abundance of unexpected, enlightening accents on
weak beats; it is not to place the meter in question, but to remove its special
privilege.Andrews defends (Palestrina); here we should admire (Lasso).
The rhythm of the individual voices against the background of the
meter may be perceived and recognized in a much simpler manner than
Andrews indicates. The hypothesis is the fundamental rule that in tempus
imperfectum the four minims are not equivalent in their metric quality, but
rather, as the rules of dissonance indicate, they are differentiated into
“strong” beats (1 and 3) and “weak” beats (2 and 4), as was discussed above.
238
correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
> >
3
>w
2
˙
1
&bC ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Cantus
w ˙
In glo - ri - a De - i Pa - tris,
Altus BbC ˙ w ∑ „ ∑ w
In
In glo - ri - a De - i Pa - - - tris,
œ œ >w n 5 6 >
&b ˙ w ∑ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙
A - men, in glo - ri - (a)
As Example 11.2 shows, the individual voices against this harmonic, accen-
tuated background can enliven the musical fabric remarkably strongly
through the stresses made possible by rhythm. Basically, three possibilities
of accentuation (according to verbal stress!) are available:
(1) The text accent agrees with the musical accent. This is the basic rule,
which one can observe without at the same time falling into Morris’s feared
“tedium.” The larger part of the music discussed here runs its course
according to this pattern.
(2) The word accent conflicts with this rule and stresses “weak” beats.
Lengthening of this beat helps to achieve this, through dotting or doubling
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horst leuchtmann
of the duration, a seeming syncopation, or a dissolution into passagework.
This is the usual form of the consciously offending “off-beat” stresses con-
trary to the meter in the individual parts (indicated by v in Ex. 11.3).
(3) The “real,” unvarnished offense against the metric rules, presumably in
awareness of the language: The verbal stress falls on the“weak”beats 2 and 4,
without lengthening within the context,without any graphic or contrapun-
tal stress (indicated by ▼ in Ex. 11.3). One depends on a singer who under-
stands languages. The word being delivered must remain understandable;
the word in its recognizable form has precedence over rhythmically flexible
delivery. If method no. 2 in performance practice misleads one to syncopa-
tion, as we still recognize today, similarly method no. 3 is for us an
“unheard” offense, because we are used to considering such undesignated
displaced accents as errors, as incompetence on the composer’s part, or –
mostly from a lack of knowledge of languages – we simply ignore them, that
is, withhold them in their rhythmic quality from the listener. Not so the
“ancients.”
This freedom of word stress and thereby musical stress, or, better yet,
rhythmicization of the individual parts, finds its limits however in two
contexts:
(A) The discant clausula (see above) does not tolerate this freedom. A com-
poser that transgresses against its domination usually gives no pleasure.
(B) Triple mensuration (see above) governs word stress irresistibly.
In both cases the meter must be complied with.
The stresses in an individual voice-part that result from situations
described under no. 2 above (voices may be combined together in such
“errors” if the composer wishes) – this method of incorrect stress contrary
to the meter is the only intrinsic one. Considered thus, Example 11.2 is
much simpler if we understand it only with regard to word stress:
Cantus: m. 1: The “In” is indeed placed on a weak beat, but it is the entrance
of the upper voice, which does not however encroach on the main
accent on beat 1 of m. 2. “De-” in m. 2, beat 4, is one such “intrinsic”
special rhythm of the voice-part, without preparation or support. In
m. 3 the shift of stress from beat 1 to beat 2 is so clear that it needs no
further discussion. In m. 4 the discant cadence governs the stress in
the usual manner. In m. 6 as in m. 1 the repetition receives a similar
subordinate stress through the entrance of the voice.
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correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
Altus: In m. 3 the stress is normal, also in mm. 4 and 5. In m. 6 the so-called
“intrinsic”shift of stress occurs.
Tenor: In m. 2 the shift of stress to beat 2 is reinforced through lengthening
(in this case through a dot). The same occurs in mm. 2–3 on “Pa-”; a
discant clausula follows. In m. 4 a subordinate stress occurs with the
voice entry. In m. 5 the stress on beat 2 is brought about in the simplest
manner through lengthening (in this case dotting). In m. 6 the
stresses are regularly metric.
Bassus: In m. 1, beat 4 has an “intrinsic” shift of stress. A similar shift occurs
on beat 2 of m. 2. The “intrinsic” shift in m. 3, beat 4, is further rein-
forced through the octave leap upwards (stress through a sudden rise
in pitch, often to the limits of the range of an individual part, which
calls attention to itself). M. 5, beat 2, is similarly made prominent by
the high note but causes no weakening of the metric stress on beat 3.
M. 6 contains an “intrinsic” shift to beats 2 and 4 (presumably, since
Andrews does not give the continuation).
1 1 2 3 4 2 1 2 3 4 3 1 2 3 4 4 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 6 1 2 3 4
C+ + + + + + +
A + + + +
T + + + + + + + +
B+ + + + + + + + +
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horst leuchtmann
did not add the text after composing the music, but rather he also began by
setting a pre-existing text to music. The rhythm of the words was in princi-
ple fitted to the meter, and only where the composer wished to bring some-
thing out, music or text or both, or where he was unsatisfied with the
important word accents within the bounds of the 1–2–3–4 meter, did
something happen to the text declamation. The same is true here. The inge-
nuity of these possibilities of musical notation that have long since been
given up without a replacement, indeed on the contrary turned upside
down and scorned as “barbarisms,” lies in the fact that this method of shift-
ing metric stress needs no special indication or method for the singer to
perform it as a foregone conclusion. The notation of that time knew no sfor-
zato, only notes, nothing but notes and rests, without auxiliary symbols.
And in this the artfulness of the old notation can be seen: the singer has no
score before him, in contrast to present practice; he basically does not know
how his part fits into the whole. But the solution is as simple as it is surpris-
ing (for us): the singer must know the language in which he sings, and when
he has the words before him, that is sufficient to bring out the correct accent
in the musicalized speech, the music, in the most natural way.22 The leader
of the choir governs the tactus and thus the tempo and can perhaps – for less
well-trained singers – help here and there with entrance cues so far as pos-
sible and necessary. (With good choral groups that was certainly not neces-
sary, and in any case the director had no score.) Thus it is as awkward as it is
unnecessary to work individual voices with changes or shifts of beats in
specific places, as many modern choral conductors try to do. The effect
occurs of its own accord. It is exactly this simplicity, however, that brings us
difficulties, because we no longer have grown up with this departed musical
22 This had already struck Johann Nicolaus Forkel (Allgemeine Geschichte der
Musik [Leipzig: Schwickert, 1801, reprint 1967] vol. 2, p. 698), who found fault
with bad text underlay in older music that occurred even in the mother tongue
of the composer: “Since this occurred in the native language, it is hardly
surprising that it happened far more often in compositions with Latin texts that
very few composers understood. Johann Mouton in any case certainly did not
understand the Latin language, for he had to communicate with Glarean
through an interpreter. This incorrect and unnatural treatment of the text was
probably a main reason why a few learned men of earlier centuries who
understood the language well enough and heard it so often disfigured in the
mouths of singers ultimately found no pleasure in the new styles of
composition” (cited after Balmer, Lassos Motetten, pp. 100–1).
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correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
culture, and old music in misapprehension of its greatness is often enough
considered to be a deficient early form of our own music. Our conductors
paint and decorate the meter in the air instead of letting the singers quietly
unfold it. It is sufficient to organize the meter in relation to the tempo,
which should not remain stiff and unvarying, and bring the singers to the
point that they declaim their texts correctly. As stated, this presupposes in
any case a knowledge of languages – for Lasso Latin, French, Italian, and
German – that is rather uncommon today. Perhaps it would work wonders
if choral rehearsals were to begin with spoken mastery of the text to be sung.
It may be seen again that old instruments and costumes of the past are not
sufficient to bring old music to life again, but it is rather a matter of funda-
mental assumptions of verbal-musical performance. And it is exactly here
that one may see the great difficulty of coming from vocal music and simple
instrumental music (because it doubles the voices that lead) to the inde-
pendence of instrumental music.In the beginning instrumental music fun-
damentally could not exist without text (except for dance music). For a long
time it was confined only to a colla parte supporting role, exclusively deco-
rative, in the service of the great vocal art.
Thus far we have been speaking of Rore and Palestrina. It is hardly
thinkable that Lasso should escape unscathed from the “errors” which con-
temporary and later criticism – although cautiously – certainly harped on
(see note 6 above). For that reason I have cited in Example 11.3 a fourteen-
measure excerpt (mm. 30–43) from his eight-voice polychoral motet “Tui
sunt coeli,”23 which shows especially clearly with what mastery Lasso
managed the enlivening possibilities of stresses in the eight voices and how
he still required lively vigor in the structure of a setting for double chorus,
which would already be inherently stimulating. These verbal “off-beat”
structures which are our subject belong fundamentally to the category of
emphasis on portions of the text, comparable to repetition or to the
employment of extremely high or low registers. This is how they were
intended and this also is how they operate. No singer of that time would
have considered singing even once such a shift of stress as “sedís” or
“praeparatío,”which the metrically organized score would suggest only to a
thoroughly unmusical person. And to wish to reproach Lasso and all the
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horst leuchtmann
˙. œ
Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ . œ #w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w
30
& b nw ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
a, et ju- di - ci - um prae - pa - ra - ti - o, <prae-pa-
‡
&b w ∑ ∑ w w ˙˙ w ∑ „ Ó ˙. œ
b˙ b˙ ˙
∑
a, et ju - di- ci - um prae-pa - ra - ti - o,
˙ ˙ w∆
Vb w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ ˙‡ ˙ ˙ Ó ‡˙ w
a, et ju- di - ci - um prae - pa- ra - ti - o se - dis
˙ w∆ ˙ w
?b w ∑ ∑ Ó ˙ ∑ „ ˙ . œ b˙ ˙
w ∑
a, et ju- di - ci - um prae - pa - ra - ti - o,
∆ ‡
& b Ó w ˙ ˙ . œ #w „ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œœ œ œ ˙ ˙ w Ó ˙ œœ
b˙ ˙ ˙
et ju - di - ci- um, <et ju- di - - - ci - um> prae - pa - ra - ti - o
∆ w ˙ . œ b ˙‡
Vb w
bw ˙ ˙ w „ Ó #˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ∑ Ó
et ju - di - ci - um, <et ju- di - ci - um> prae-pa- ra -
∆ ∆
Vb Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w „ Ó w ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ b˙ ˙ w Ó˙
et ju- di - ci - um, <et ju - di - ci-um> prae - pa - ra - ti - o se -
∆
? b Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ b˙ w „ Ó ˙ ˙ œœ w ˙. œ w ∑ ˙ . œ b˙ ˙
et ju- di - ci - um, <et ju - - - di - ci - um> prae - pa - ra- ti -
Example 11.3: Orlando di Lasso, “Tui sunt coeli,” mm. 30–43, from SW,
vol. 21, p. 7
important composers of his time that they had set a great number of falsely
accented words and sent them into the world – such a crazy reproach would
itself be worthy of real “amusoi,” “ignoti,” or “vorächtern der music,” as
Joachim a Burck describes them.24 When Burck summarizes the style char-
acteristics of the idolized Lasso, his description seems coined for the imagi-
native involvement of Lasso (and others) with text accents: “. . . princeps in
hoc nostro seculo Orlandus Dilassus . . . vere scit affectus exprimere, . . . et
quod elegantissimum est, textum ita ordinare, ne accentibus iniuriam
faciat” (the prince of our age, Orlando di Lasso, truly knows how to express
the affect, and what is most elegant, to organize the text so that he does no
24 Joachim [Johannes] a Burck, Decades IIII (Mühlhausen, 1567), as cited by
Ambros, Geschichte der Musik, vol. 3, p. 369, and Boetticher, Lasso, p. 839.
244
correct and incorrect accentuation in lasso ’ s music
37
b˙ ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w ˙ . œb˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙
&b ∑ w
ra- ti - o,> prae - pa - ra - ti- o, <prae- pa- ra- ti - o,> prae- pa - ra - ti- o se- dis
‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡
& b ˙. œ ˙ ˙ › Ó ˙
˙ ˙ bw
Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙
<prae-pa-ra - ti - o> se- dis tu - ae, <prae - pa- ra- ti - o> se-dis tu - ae, <prae-pa-ra -
‡ ˙‡ ˙ ˙‡ w ˙ œ œ ‡˙ ˙
Vb w w Ó ˙. œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ∑ Ó Ó ˙ œ œ ˙ b˙ ˙
tu - ae, prae - pa- ra - ti - o se- dis tu - ae, prae - pa-ra-ti - o se- dis
˙ œ œ ˙‡ ˙ ˙ . œ ˙‡ ˙ ˙ w › w ˙. œ
?b ∑ Ó ˙ Ó w ∑
<prae - pa- ra- ti - o,> prae- pa-ra - ti - o se - dis tu - ae, <prae - pa-
& b ˙ ˙ œœ˙ w ∑ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙ Ó ˙ œœ ˙ ˙ ˙
w w
se-dis tu - ae, prae - pa-ra - ti - o, <prae-pa - ra - ti-o,> prae - pa- ra - ti - o
A˙ ‡ ˙ œœ b ‡˙ ˙ ˙ . œ ˙‡ ˙
V b ˙ Ó ˙ œ œœ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ w Ó ˙ Ó ˙∑ ˙. œ ˙ ˙
ti - o se - dis tu - ae, prae - pa- ra - ti- o, <prae-pa-ra - ti - o,> prae - pa-ra - ti -
‡ ˙ . œ ˙‡ ˙ ∆
Vb ˙˙ ˙ ˙ ∑ Ó ˙ œ œ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w w w Ó ˙ Ó ˙
- dis tu - ae, prae - para- ti - o se - dis tu - ae, prae- pa-ra - ti - o se -
?b w ˙ . œ b˙ ˙ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w ˙. œ ˙ ˙
∑ ˙. œ ˙ ˙ w w bw
o, <prae - pa-ra - ti - o,> prae - pa - ra - ti - o, <prae-pa-ra - ti - o,> prae- pa - ra - ti - o
injury to the accents). The fact that all composers of the sixteenth century
made use of these “natural” changes of stress can only strengthen the view
advocated here that an important means of contrapuntal writing has been
brought to light again and rehabilitated, in theory as in practice.
A final question really contains its own answer: what purpose does
this shift of accent serve, especially when it occurs in such large numbers?
The answer: it provides an additional solidification of the musical struc-
ture. In its effect and meaning it stands between the repetition and
intensification figures of counterpoint and is closely related to stretto – of
which it is in any case a virtuoso form – one might almost say a form of dra-
matic intensification of the musical statement. And it is thus an indispens-
able technique of vocal polyphony that later celebrated a meaningful
245
horst leuchtmann
revival in instrumental music in the area of motivic work. To close with R.
O. Morris, who recognized this dramatic element very well: “This constant
rhythmical conflict is the most vital and suggestive feature in the whole of
the sixteenth-century technique.”25
246
General index
247
general index
Cherubini, Luigi Freising, Diocese of
Cours de contrepoint et de fugue, 230–1 Breviarium Frisingense (1516), 44–47
Clement, Jacob (Clemens non Papa), 141, Scamnalia secundum ritum et ordinem
161, 166 ecclesiae et diocesis Frisingensis
Epitaphium for, 120, 122–3, 128 (1520), 47
Magnificats, 6, 19 Fugger, Johann (Hans) Jakob, 164, 188
masses, 20
composition, instruction in, 229 Gabrieli, Andrea, 20–3
consonance, 227–8 Missa super Pater peccavi, 29–39
contrafacta, 120–3, 127–30, 159 (Exx. 2.8, 2.10–12)
Copenhagen Chansonnier, 89 Missa super Vexilla regis prodeunt, 29
Cornet, Séverin, 184 Pater peccavi, 28–30, 33–4,
Corona, Giovanni, 199 (Exx. 2.7, 2.9)
counterpoint Sacrae cantiones I (1565), 21
abstract or instrumental compared to Gardano, Antonio, 76, 92, 207–8
vocal, 229, 230–1 Gentile, Stefano, 64–5, 162
instruction in, 230–1 Gerlach, Theodor and Katharina, 218,
Crequillon, Thomas, 160–1 220–1
Crook, David, 1, 5n.8, 13n.15, 47 Gleason, Elizabeth G., 48–9
Göllner, Marie Louise, 42
Daser, Ludwig Gombert, Nicolas, 6, 19
masses, 20 Gosswin, Anton, 20
Dentice, Don Luigi and Fabrizio, 80, 88 Granvelle, see Perrenot
Desprez, Josquin, 167 Gregory XIII, Pope, 139
accentuation of text, 229–30 Grimaldi, Giovanni, 162
Benedicta es caelorum Regina, 139, Gross, Horst-Willi, 236n.15
167n.29 Guidobono, Giovan Francesco II, 68–72,
Doni, Antonfrancesco, Dialogo della 79–80
musica, 92 Guise, Cardinal Louis I de, 77
Dorico, Valerico, 67–8, 74, 78
Dupérac, Etienne, 50–1 Haar, James, viii, 5, 99
Haberl, Franz Xaver, 5, 236n.15
Erb, James, viii Heinrich, Nicholas, 220, 222
Este, Alfonso II, Duke of Ferrara, 192 Hermelink, Siegfried, 204
Este, Ippolito II, Archbishop of Milan, 70 Hotz, Pierre du, 188, 194
Eton Choirbook, 14 Houtermann, Mark, 140
248
general index
Lasso, Rudolf di, 15 Munich, vii
Le Crec, Olivier, 88–90 Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Mus. Mss.,
Le Roy, Adrian, and Robert Ballard, 118, 20–1, 23, 41, 45–8
119, 165, 210–18 Dom zu Unserer lieben Frau: Mss.,
Lechner, Leonhard, 119 42n.5
Lerma, Hernando, 141
Leuchtmann, Horst, viii Nanino, Giovanni Maria, 153
Lockenburg, Johannes, 20 Nasco, Jan, 93
Lockwood, Lewis, 22 Neefe, Christof Gottlob, 127
Lowinsky, Edward, 138 Nola, Gian Domenico da, 88
Lupacchino, Bernardino, 93
Lupi, Johannes, 141 Palestrina, Giovanni Pierluigi da, vii,
Luther, Martin 132–3, 141, 144, 150, 151, 183, 202,
Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu Dir, 24 233 (Ex. 11.1)
Confitebor tibi, 152–3 (Ex. 7.5)
Macque, Giovanni da, 151 Crucem sanctam subiit, 147 (Ex. 7.3)
madrigal, multi-stanza, 92–5 Da fuoco si bella nasce il mio ardore,
Magnificat tones, 1–3 (Ex. 1.1) 197
Maier, Julius Joseph, 41 Laudate Dominum omnes gentes, 149
Maillard, Jean, 141 Magnificats, 5, 6, 19
Maio, Giovan Thomaso di, 70 masses, 20
Manchicourt, Pierre de, 187 Misero stato degli amanti in questi, 202
Marenzio, Luca, 149, 166, 183, 198, 200, Missa Benedicta es, 139
201 Missa Papae Marcelli, 144
Margaret of Austria, 185, 188, 190 Missa Petra sancta, 152
McGinness, Frederick J., 49, 51 Motecta festorum totius anni (1569),
Meier, Bernhard, 190n.31, 191n.34, 205, 144
236–7 musicians provided for processions in
Merlo, Alessandro, 200 Rome, 133–6
meter, compared to rhythm, 231–2 Primo libro dei mottetti a 5, 6, e 7 voci
Micheli, Domenico, 199 (1569), 144
modes Susanna ab improbiis, 153
affect of individual, 95, 224 Palmarts, Gottfried, 20
expressive or structural function, parody (imitation), 20–40, 152–5, 160
101–15 Magnificats, 13, 17–18
representation of, 203–26 masses, choice of models, 22
Mola, Francesco De La, 81–2 Pense, Justinien, 164
Montanus [Berg], Johann, and Ulrich Perrenot de Granvelle, Antoine, 164, 185,
Neuber, 218–19 186–90
Monte, Philippe de, 74, 162, 183, 199, 202 Petrarch, Francesco
Dolce mio caro e pretioso albergo, 197 Standomi un giorno, 95–9
Morales, Cristóbal de, 6, 19 Phalèse, Pierre, 117–19, 160–3, 166–9,
moresche, 82–8 208–10
Tiche toche, 83–6 (Ex. 4.2) Phinot, Domenico, 150
Morris, Reginald O., 229, 231–5, Pius V, Pope, bull “Quod a nobis,” 43–4
(Ex. 11.1), 246 Plantin, Christopher, 161
249
general index
Polites, Joachim, 189 Toraldo, Neapolitan family, 81–2
Pollet, Jean, 164–5 Tracetti, Francesco, 76–8
polychoral music in Rome, 148–52 Trent, Council of, 42–4, 48–9, 140, 144,
Pontio, Pietro, 12n.14, 228 147, 155
Porta, Costanzo, 93 Truchsess von Waldburg, Cardinal Otto,
Portinaro, Francesco, 93 138–9, 147
Powers, Harold, 203–7, 225 Tumler, Walram, 62–3
Pressauer, Franz, 21 Turnhout, Gérard Van, 160, 184, 189
printing and editing of music, Rome, Turnhout, Jean, 183–202
75–9, 144 biography, 184–5, 189
psalm tone 4, 25 (Ex. 2.2) madrigals:
Ben veggio di lontano, 195–6
Rampollini, Matteo, 92–3 (Ex. 9.3)
Rasmussen, Niels Krogh, 50–1 O beltà rara, 195–6 (Ex. 9.1)
Reese, Gustave, 8, 229–30 Questi son lasso, questi, 195–6
Reggio, L’Hoste da (Ex. 9.2)
Io vo cangiar l’usato, 92 Voi ch’ascoltate in rime, 195–7
Roche, Jerome, viii (Ex. 9.4)
Rome, 66–7, 71, 74–90, 132–57 Vorria parlare e dire, 185n.7
Rore, Cipriano de, 93, 141, 166, 183,
190–2, 199, 236–7 Utendal, Alexander, 158–9
Alma real se come fide stella, 190
Expectans exspectavi, 237 Valent, Adrian, 141
masses, 20 Vento, Ivo de, 20, 23, 27, 159
Mentre lume maggior del secolo Verdelot, Philippe, 199
nostro, 191 Victoria, Tomás Luis de, 140, 150
O socii neque enim, 187 Vigili, Cavalier Honofrio, 75–6, 78
Vieni dolce Hymeneo, 191–2 villanelle, 67–8, 70–4, 79, 89
Virtute magna, 236 Vinci, Pietro, 199
Rossetti [Rossetto], Stefano, 200
Ruffo, Vincenzo, 93 Waelrant, Hubert, 160
Wearing, Clive, 52
Saen, Elisabeth, 161 Wilhelm V, Duke of Bavaria, 42–3, 48,
Salerno, Prince of 79–80, 89–90 51–2, 62–3, 69n.18
Sandberger, Adolf, viii, 236n.15 Willaert, Adrian
Senfl, Ludwig accentuation of text, 230
hymns, 42, 46–8 Domine quid multiplicati sunt,
Magnificats, 6, 19 236n.16
Susato, Tielman, 64, 161, 187, 208–9 O socii neque enim, 187
250
Index of Lasso compositions and
printed sources
251
i n d e x o f l as s o c o m p o s i t i o n s a n d p r i n t e d s o u r c e s
motets (cont.) 15627 (Muse III 4 v), 79
O decus celsi, 235n.14 1563c (Madrigali III 5 v), 79, 183, 207
Pater peccavi, 167 15633 (Liber I musarum 4 v), 140
Praesidium Sara, 165 1564b (Primus liber concentuum
Quare tristis es, anima mea, 142 sacrorum), 214
Quia vidisti me, Thoma, 140 1564c (Chansons I 4 v), 208–9
Quid prodest stulto, 167 1564d (14. livre chansons 4–5 v),
Scio enim quod redemptor meus vivit, 117–18, 167
141 1564 RISM deest (7. livre chansons),
Sidus ex claro, 235n.14 117–18, 167
Surgens Jesus, 166, 171–2 (Exx. 8.1, 1565a (Modulorum II vol. 4–10 v), 215
8.6–7) 1565c (Cantiones sacrae II 5–6 v), 76
Surrexit pastor bonus, 142–3, 166, 171 1565e (Lectiones), 142
(Ex. 8.2) 15658 (7. livre chansons), 117
Tribus miraculis, 166, 171 (Ex. 8.5) 1566c (Sacrae cantiones II 5–6 v), 142
Tui sunt caeli, 243 (Ex. 11.3) 1566d (Sacrae cantiones III 5–6 v), 142
Ubi est Abel, 166 1566e (Sacrae cantiones IV 6–8 v), 159,
Veni in hortum meum, 166, 169 208
Verba mea auribus percipe, 166, 168 1566f (Lectiones), 167
Penitential Psalms, 159, 165, 218, 224 1567k (Madrigali IV 5 v), 183
Prophetiae Sibyllarum, 227 1567l (Lieder I 5v), 219–20
villanella (ascribed to Lasso) 15679 (7. livre chansons), 117
Voria che tu cantas’ una canzona, 72–4 1568a/b (Selectissimae cantiones), 159
* 1569a (Cant. aliquot 5 v), 219
Printed sources of Lasso’s music (listed by 1569f (Sacrae cantiones IV 6–8 v), 142
RISM number and brief title) 15697 (Liber I sacr. cant. 4 v), 168
1555a (14. livre), 64, 140, 162 15698 (Liber II sacr. cant. 4 v), 117, 119,
1555b (D’Orlando di Lassus il primo 168
libro), 64, 140, 162 1570c (Cant. sacr. 6–8 v), 219
1555c (Madrigali I 5 v), 76, 207 1570d (Mellange), 117, 211, 213, 224
155530 (Villanelle II), 67 15706 (2. livre chansons 4–5 v), 191n.35
1555 RISM deest (Muse II 3 v), 81–2 157011 (7. livre chansons), 117
1556a (Motetti I 5–6 v), 138, 164, 187, 1571d/b (Modulorum I 5 v, Moduli
208 quinis v), 168, 215–16
1557b (Muse II [Madrigali II] 5 v), 75, 1571f (Chansons nouvelle 5 v), 212, 215
91 1572e (Modulorum II 5 v), 168
155712 (Muse II 3 v), 88–9 1572g (Lieder II 5 v), 219–20
155719 (Canzoni alla Napolitana I), 157311 (7. livre chansons), 117
74n.24 1574b (Patrocinium II, Missae), 139
156014 (Villotte III), 88n.53 1575c (Motetti 3 v), 168
156018 (Madrigali I 4 v), 77 157510 (7. livre chansons), 117
1561 RISM deest (Motettorum 5, 6 v), 1576c (Patrocinium V, Magnificat), 142
142 1576i (Meslanges), 116, 117, 120,
1562a (Sacrae cantiones 5 v), 142, 208, 211–12, 214, 224
219 Oxford partbooks, 116, 130–1
1562c (Sacrae cantiones 5 v), 208 1576l (Thrésor 4–6 v), 120–1
252
i n d e x o f l as s o c o m p o s i t i o n s a n d p r i n t e d s o u r c e s
1576n (17. livre 4–5 v), 211–12 15843 (7. livre chansons), 117
1576r (Lieder III 5 v), 220 1585a (Sacrae cantiones 4 v), 217, 225
1577c (Cantiones 2 v), 219, 221 1585b (Cantiones sacrae 6–8 v), 225
1577e (Moduli 4–9 v), 215–16 1586g (Meslanges), 212, 224
1579b (Selectissimae cantiones 4–5 v), 1587d (Sacr. cant. moduli 4 v), 217–18
117, 119–20 1588c/d/e (Moduli 4 & 8, 5, 6 v) 218
15791 (7. livre chansons), 117 1592b (Fleur des chansons), 209–10
1581g (Villanelle), 88 1594a (Cantiones sacrae 6 v), 219, 225
1582c (Fasciculus aliquot sacr. cant.), 1594b (Thrésor), 120–1
219, 224 1595a (Lagrime di San Pietro), 219, 225,
1582d (Sacrae cantiones 5 v), 225 227
1582e (Motetta 6 v), 225 1599 RISM deest (7. livre chansons), 117
1582h (Thrésor), 120–1 1604a (MOM), 120–1, 127, 220–3
1583b (Lieder I–II–III 5 v), 220–1, 224 1619a (Centum Magnificat), 15
1584f (Continvation du meslanges),
212–13
253