‘Where there is music, madam, there can be no harm.’
Don Quixote, II.34
If I may be excused for the vanity of talking about something which
is particularly dear to me, and with the hope that it may be of
value to others, I shall attempt to form a narrative out of the
music which most interests me. It ranges from the final cantus
firmus masses of Du Fay to the magnificats of Gombert. For such a
diverse body of works, it is natural to first search for a
convenient label. The hallowed name of “Renaissance music” seems to
have outlived its usefulness now that the connotation of a
renascence in music which parallels the developments in literature
and art is no longer tenable1. Lowinsky’s more subtle term,
“Music in the Culture of the Renaissance”, which removes the direct
association, nevertheless places the music as a contemporary witness
of the rich culture of humanism and classicism in literature and
art. It is difficult to explicitly connect the immediate qualities
of the best compositions of Palestrina and Lassus, much less those
of Gombert, Josquin or Ockeghem, with the virtues of music extolled
in the works of classical antiquity. Indeed, it has been aptly
stated that the “Renaissance” in music did not begin until 1600 with
Monteverdi and the rise of monody, a period that was once
universally acknowledge to mark, for music, the boundary between the
Renaissance and the Baroque2. The influence of humanism on
music began in earnest with the Italian theorists only in the second
half of the 16th century, and intensified as the century drew to a
close, as shown by the magisterial survey by Palisca3. If
“Renaissance” carries with it too much historical baggage to be
misleading when used for the likes of Busnoys or Obrecht, is there
another label which succinctly summarises the rich legacy of music
between Du Fay and Willaert? Even if such a label exists, is it even
useful?
While listening to Verdelot’s Philomena mass1, I was struck by
a certain detail which remained with me long after the music has
ended. The ending of the Credo (see Figure 1, which
reproduces the Verdelot Opera Omnia2) contains a plagal
cadential extension which is exceedingly elegant. These extensions
are commonplace in the motet and masses of the 16th century since
they add weight to the authentic cadence and provide a sense of
closure to a long work that the usual short cadential gestures of
the period were not able to supply. Usually, at least one voice
holds the finalis of the mode, in this case the soprano D, while
the other voices circle the consonant scale degrees under
it. Verdelot’s altus, which leaps between the 3rd and flattened
6th degree of the mode, is entirely typical, as is the G-F-G-D
(or 4-3-4-1 in terms of scale degree) motion in the bass. What
makes this passage extraordinary is the insistent leap to B-flat in
the altus and the subsequent heartrending 7-6 suspension leading to
a stark bare 5th in the final chord. Delitiae Musicae’s sensitive
performance, with a tastefully applied ritenuto, adds greatly to
the poignancy of the moment.
Over the past decade or so, John Milsom has developed an
idiosyncratic presentation of contrapuntal analysis of music in
Josquin’s generation and
beyond1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Figure 1 below
demonstrates how the beginning of the famous Absalon motet is
rendered under such a diagramĀ 6
Recordings Album Art Conductor Group Vocal forces Duration Andrew Kirkman The Binchois Consort 4 voices, falsettist superius 34:30 Giuseppe Maletto Cantica Symphonica 7 voices, female superius, instruments 38:27 Antoine Guerber Diabolus in Musica 8 voices, falsettist superius 38:29 Jesse Rodin Cut Circle 8 voices, female superius 28:41 - The Hilliard Ensemble 4 voices, falsettist superius 32:02 Introduction Du Fay's Se La Face Ay Pale mass was the first mass he composed after absorbing the influence of the English Caput mass, and the first of four late cantus firmus masses that he left to us1.