Palestrina, the ancient Praeneste, where he was born in the early part
of the sixteenth century, the precise year being a matter of conjecture.
1514, 1524, 1528, and 1529, are the years variously ascribed to his birth
by various biographers, but the most recently discovered evidence seems
to point to 1524 as the most probable date. He was of humble parentage,
which partially accounts for the lack of definite information about his
earliest years, and as the public registers of the city of Palestrina
were destroyed by the soldiery of the Duke of Alva, it is not likely
that any reliable information regarding his ancestry or birth will ever
be obtained. In accordance with the habit of the time, as the composer
grew famous his name was latinized and became Johannes Petrus Aloysius
Praenestinus. The lack of early biographical material regarding the man
who became at once the culmination of the Flemish and the founder of the
pure Italian school has led to the invention of many a doubtful tale
regarding his beginnings in the art of music. He came to Rome (but four
hours' travel from his native city) in 1540, and different anecdotes are
told of the manner in which he began his musical studies. Many of these
have been proved false by the researches of the learned Dr. Haberl, who
has shown that Goudimel was not the teacher of Palestrina, although all
previous authorities have stated this as a fact. The data concerning
Palestrina, recently published by Dr. Haberl, will probably supersede the
statements of Baini which have hitherto been accepted. It is probable
that Palestrina returned to the city of his birth in 1544, and, at least
temporarily, became organist and director in the cathedral there, and at
this time (June 12th, 1547), married Lucrezia de Goris. Of this lady very
little is known; she is said to have been in fairly good circumstances,
and to have been a devoted wife to the master; she bore him four sons,
three of whom died after having given some proof that they had inherited
Palestrina's musical genius; she herself died in 1580. Some of the recent
historians maintain that Palestrina had but three sons, of whom two died.
In 1551 we find Palestrina in Rome as _Maestro de' Putti_ (teacher of the
boy singers) in the Capella Giulia in the Vatican, and in considerable
repute, for he was allowed the title of "Maestro della Capella della
Basilica Vaticana." While employed at this post he composed a set of four
and five-voiced masses which were published in 1544 and dedicated to
Pope Julius III. The work marks an epoch, for it was the first important
one by any Italian composer, the Church having up to this time relied
almost wholly upon the Flemish composers for her musical works. The Pope
proved himself immediately grateful by appointing the composer one of
the singers of the papal choir; this appointment was in violation of the
rules of the church, for the singers were supposed to be celibates, and
not only was Palestrina married, but his voice was not such as would
have been chosen for the finest ecclesiastic choir of the world. To the
credit of the composer, who was one of the most devout of Catholics, it
must be said that he hesitated long before accepting a position to which
he knew that he had no right, but finally, believing that the Pope knew
better than he, Palestrina entered on his new duties, which brought with
them a welcome increase of income. But Julius III. died six months after,
and his successor, Marcellus II., died twenty-three days after becoming
Pope. Marcellus was very well disposed towards Palestrina, and his death
was a great blow to the composer. Paul IV. became sovereign pontiff in
1555. John Peter Caraffa (Paul IV.) was of different mould from his
predecessors; haughty and imperious, he was active in promoting the power
of the church over all nations and thrones, but equally so in reforming
it within; he would permit no married singers in his choir, and in less
than a year after his appointment, Palestrina found himself dismissed
from what promised to be a life position. The dismissal was tempered
by the allowance of a pension of six scudi per month, but Palestrina,
with a family dependent on his work, thought that it meant irretrievable
ruin, and, almost broken-hearted, took to his bed with a severe attack
of nervous fever. The sensitive character and innate modesty of the man
were never better proven, for his reputation was even then far too great
for the loss of any situation to ruin him. Already in October of the
same year (1555) Palestrina was appointed director of the music of the
Lateran Church, a position which, although less remunerative than that
from which he had been dismissed, allowed him to retain the small annuity
granted by the Pope. He remained here five and a half years (from October
1st, 1555, until February 1st, 1561) and during this epoch produced many
important sacred works, among which were his volume of _Improperia_
and a wonderful eight-voiced "Crux Fidelis" which he produced on Good
Fridays with his choir. His set of four-voiced "Lamentations" also aided
in spreading his fame as the leader of a new school, the pure school of
Italian church-music. On March 1st, 1561, he entered upon the position of
director of the music of the Church of St. Maria Maggiore, a post which
he retained for ten years. It was while he was director here that the
event occurred that spread his fame through all the Catholic nations of
the earth. Church music had for a long time lapsed from the dignity which
should have been its chief characteristic. The Flemish composers were
in a large degree responsible for this; they had placed their ingenuity
above religious earnestness, and in order to show their contrapuntal
skill would frequently choose some well-known secular song as the _cantus
firmus_ of their masses, and weave their counterpoint around this as a
core. Dozens of masses were written on the old Provençal song of "L'Homme
Armé," Palestrina himself furnishing one, and it seemed to be a point
of honor among the composers to see who could wreath the most brilliant
counterpoint around this popular tune. Many of the melodies chosen were
not even so dignified as this, and at times the Flemish composer would
choose as his _cantus firmus_ some drinking song of his native land. In
those days the melody was generally committed to the tenor part (the
word comes from "teneo" and means "the holding part," that is the part
that held the tune) and in order the better to show on what foundation
they had built, the Flemings retained the original words in this part,
whence it came to be no uncommon thing to hear the tenors roar out a
bacchanalian song while the rest of the choir were intoning a "Kyrie," a
"Gloria," a "Credo," or an "Agnus Dei." It is almost incredible that the
custom lasted as long as it did, but at last, in 1562, the Cardinals were
summoned together for the purification of all ecclesiastical matters,
and the famous Council of Trent began to cut at the root of the evil.
As is generally the case in all reactions, the reform seemed likely to
go too far, for while all were united upon the abolition of secular
words in the Mass, some maintained that the evil lay deeper yet, and
attacked counterpoint itself as worldly and unfit for true religious
music. These advocated nothing less than a return to the plain song or
chant, a turning back of the hands of musical progress that might have
been very serious in its results. Fortunately, however, the ablegates,
and the envoys of the Emperor Ferdinand I., protested vigorously, and
the whole matter was finally referred to a committee of eight cardinals,
who very wisely chose eight of the papal singers to assist them in their
deliberations. The sittings of this committee were held chiefly in
1563, and fortunately two of the number, Cardinals Vitellozo Vitellozzi
and Carlo Borromeo (afterwards canonized) were men of especial musical
culture. The works of Palestrina had been frequently cited during the
debates, and now it was determined to commission him to write a mass
which should prove to the world that the employment of counterpoint was
consistent with the expression of the most earnest religious thought.
Right nobly did Palestrina respond to the call. Too diffident of his own
powers to trust the issue to a single work, he sent the cardinals three,
of which the first two were dignified and effective, while the third
was the celebrated "Mass of Pope Marcellus." He sent the works on their
completion, in 1565, to Cardinal Borromeo, and the _Missa Papae Marcelli_
was soon after performed at the house of Cardinal Vitellozzi. It made
its effect immediately, and soon after the Pope ordered an especial
performance of it by the choir at the Apostolical chapel. It is odd to
read of the honors which followed in its track; they took every shape but
the one which Palestrina most needed--a pecuniary result. The copyist of
the papal chapel wrote out the parts in larger notes than were employed
in other works, the Pope (Pius IV.) exclaimed on hearing the mass for
the first time, that such must be the music that the angels chanted in
the new Jerusalem, and when, a few years after (in 1567), Palestrina
published this mass with some others and dedicated the volume to Philip
II. of Spain, that eminent bigot sent the composer--his thanks!
[Illustration: PALESTRINA.
From a portrait in Naumann's History of Music.]
It was probably on account of this mass, however, that Palestrina came
back to the papal choir. He did not come as a singer this time, but a
new office was created for him, that of "Composer to the Pontifical
Choir." It may be mentioned here that none of the different positions
which Palestrina occupied took him out of the reach of pecuniary cares,
and he never received an adequate recompense for his labors; yet one may
doubt whether he ever suffered absolute poverty; his wife is said by some
historians, to have been well-to-do, and the friendship of different
cardinals could not have been without some pecuniary results. Palestrina
was blessed with many true and steadfast admirers who must have atoned
in some degree for the jealousies of his brother-musicians. His wife was
devoted to him, the cardinal D'Este was a friend, in addition to the two
cardinals already mentioned; but the great solace of his career was the
close companionship of the most musical and devout of priests, Filippo
Neri, who has since been made saint by the church. As this priest was the
founder of the oratorio it is not too much to imagine that Palestrina
may have helped him with advice and music and thus have assisted at the
birth of the loftiest religious form of later times. Yet in the midst of
all his work, and in the enjoyment of all his companionships, the life of
Palestrina is in startling contrast with the brilliant and well-rewarded
career of his contemporary, Orlando di Lasso. If ever the Catholic
church desires to canonize a musical composer, it will find devoutness,
humility, and many other saintly characteristics in Palestrina. The
great pang of his life was the loss of his promising boys just as they
began to prove to him that his musical instruction had planted seeds in
fertile soil. The one son who outlived him seems to have been a sordid
and heartless wretch in vivid contrast to the character of his father,
whose compositions he recklessly scattered from mercenary motives. Yet
the life of Palestrina must have had its moments of sunshine. Probably
the most striking of these occurred in 1575, the jubilee year, when, as
a compliment to their distinguished townsman, 1500 singers from the city
of Palestrina entered Rome, divided into three companies, singing the
works of the composer, while he, marching at the head of the vocal army,
directed the musical proceedings. In 1571, after the death of Animuccia
(a pupil of Claudio Goudimel), Palestrina became leader of the choir of
St. Peter's and soon after he became a teacher in the music school which
his friend Giovanni Maria Nanini opened in Rome, a school which gave rise
to many composers, and which established the early Italian composition
on a firmer basis than ever before. In 1593 Palestrina became musical
director to Cardinal Aldobrandini, but he was now an old man and his
death ensued soon after; but his activity continued unabated almost up to
his decease; even to his very last days he produced works which remain
monuments of his energy. In January, 1594, he published thirty "Spiritual
Madrigals" for five voices, in praise of the Holy Virgin, and this was
his last work, for he died less than a month later. He had already begun
another work, a volume of masses to be dedicated to Clement VIII., when
he was attacked by pleurisy; the disease hastened to a fatal ending, for
he was ill but a week, receiving extreme unction January 29th and dying
February 2d, 1594, in the arms of his friend Philip Neri; his most famous
contemporary, Orlando di Lasso, died just four months later, so that the
end of the Flemish school, and the brilliant beginning of the Italian
church school come very close together.
Of the character of Palestrina's music we shall speak below, but it
may be stated here that there has never existed a composer at once so
prolific and so sustainedly powerful. The mere list of his compositions
would take considerable space, for he composed 93 masses for from four
to eight voices, 179 motettes, 45 sets of hymns for the entire year, 3
books of "Lamentations," 3 books of Litanies, 2 books of Magnificats, 4
books of Madrigals, a wonderful Stabat Mater, and very much more that is
unclassified. A list that is absolutely stupendous when the character of
the works is remembered. Through the enterprise of Messrs. Breitkopf &
Härtel all of these works will soon have appeared in print.
Palestrina is buried in St Peter's in the chapel of Sts. Simon and Judas.
The simple inscription on his tomb runs:
_Johannes Petrus Aloysius Praenestinus,
Musicæ Princeps._
It is but natural to find the old Italian writers showering down
laudatory adjectives on Palestrina. Undoubtedly Palestrina and Di
Lasso, whose careers are almost exactly contemporaneous, were the two
chief composers of the 16th century, and it is equally undoubted that
of these two Palestrina was much the more earnest and serious; but one
may receive with some degree of caution such phrases as "the light and
glory of music," "the Prince of Music," and "the Father of Music," all
of which may be found in the early commentaries on his works. It must
be borne in mind that Palestrina lived at a time when music was still
largely a mathematical science, when the art (so far as it was an art)
tended almost wholly towards the intellectual, and when the emotional
side, which is so important an element with the moderns, was scarcely
recognized. It is an odd coincidence that the very year in which the
two great composers of intellectual polyphony died (1594) saw the birth
of the emotional school in the shape of the first opera, "Dafne." We
must not search for great emotional display in the modern sense, even
in the "Lamentations" or the "Stabat Mater" of Palestrina, but if we
judge his works from the standard of dignity and a pure leading of the
voices even in the most intricate passages, we shall find them to be most
perfect models, and it was through the complex progressions of the old
counterpoint that our modern style was evolved; Palestrina and Di Lasso
were the ploughmen who made the harvest of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven,
Bach and Wagner, possible. The lack of definite rhythm (for the ancient
counterpoint was the least rhythmic expression of music) is sometimes a
stumbling-block in the way of modern appreciation of some of Palestrina's
work, but the devout student of Bach will soon find himself an admirer of
the pure and lofty vein of the older master. Krause, the historian, says:
"I am convinced that this school possesses a permanent value for all
time. The greatest art connoisseurs of the new school pay the greatest
homage to the Palestrina style." Thibaut describes Palestrina as deeper
than Di Lasso, and as such a master of the old church modes and of the
pure school (in which the triad was the foundation of everything and
the seventh chords were not admitted) that calmness and repose are to
be found in a greater degree in his works than in the compositions of
any other composer. Palestrina has been called the "Homer of Music," and
there is something in his stately style that makes the phrase a fitting
one.
[Illustration: PALESTRINA.
From a portrait by Schnorr, engraved by Amsler and re-engraved by
Deblois. This portrait has evidently been suggested by the Vatican
portrait. (See frontispiece.) Authentic portraits of Palestrina are
extremely rare.]
Baini, who in the early part of this century was the successor in
office of the great composer, being musical director of the papal choir
at Rome, was probably the ablest and most enthusiastic student of the
works of Palestrina that ever existed, and his great work, "_Memorie
storicho-critiche della vita e delle opere di Giovanni Pierluigi da
Palestrina_" (Rome, 1828. Two volumes), spite of a degree of partisanship
and consequent lack of appreciation of the work of some of the Flemish
composers, will probably always remain the bucket through which the
waters of the well of Palestrina are best attainable. No man ever had as
good opportunities of access to the master's works, and no one could
have employed those opportunities better. He, with extreme exactness,
classifies the works of the master into ten groups or styles. It would
be both unnecessary and prolix to follow him through all of these; more
practical for the general musician is the summing up of Hauptmann (whose
essay is founded on Baini), who says, "Baini's ten styles may become
bewildering to many, but three styles of composition may be readily
recognized on close acquaintance with his works. In the first style he
approaches the school of his predecessors the Netherlanders (the Flemish
school), and this is shown to our ears by a lack of harmony; the melodies
go on their course beside each other, without blending into harmonious
unity; harmonically judged they are dry, heavy, and inflexible, and
they are continuously canonic or fugated. The second style is, on the
contrary, in simultaneous progressions, like our chorales. Here the
voices are, as a matter of course, always singable, but the conditions
of the melody are, as the harmonies of the preceding, rather negative,
and the composer is not turned aside by any ill-sounding effects. The
third style is the uniting of the foregoing two in the best and most
beautiful manner that can be achieved in this sphere, and it is this
school that has placed Palestrina in so high a rank for all time; in
this style is the Mass of Pope Marcellus composed. There are however,
beautiful specimens of the second style in existence, as, for example,
the _Improperia_, which always refreshes me by its simplicity."
In the use of chorale-like simplicity, Palestrina causes the commentator
involuntarily to draw a comparison between him and John Sebastian Bach.
The parallel could be drawn more closely than many of the ancient ones of
Plutarch, for not only were both composers polyphonic in their musical
vein, but both were actuated by the sincerest religious feeling in their
largest compositions. Palestrina may stand as the typical Catholic, as
Bach represents the earnest Protestant, in music.
Unquestionably the earliest vein of Palestrina's composition was
influenced by his Flemish training, and he returned to this florid and
ingenious style in later time when he set the old melody of "_L'Homme
Armé_" as a Mass. This was a very natural proceeding. We have alluded
above to the custom of setting masses around a secular core, using some
popular melody as _cantus firmus_, as practised by the Netherlanders.
When Palestrina chose the above-named melody, he entered deliberately
into the lists with them; so many of his predecessors had used the
self-same _cantus_ that "_L'Homme Armé_" became in some degree a
challenge and a specimen of competitive composition; skill and complexity
were to rule in such a mass, and it is sufficient to say that Palestrina
overtopped his competitors in these, and therefore the object of this
work was attained. It may stand as the best example of the first school.
The _Improperia_ are a series of antiphons and responses which, on the
morning of Good Friday, take the place of the daily Mass of the Catholic
church. They represent the remonstrances of the suffering Savior with
the people for their ingratitude for his benefits, whence the title
"_Improperia_," i. e. "the Reproaches." We have stated that the old pure
school did not portray emotion in the modern style; one may not find in
these "Reproaches" of Palestrina the entirely human style of a Luzzi's
"Ave Maria" or the operatic manner of a Rossini's "Stabat Mater," but
the simple combination of dignity with sorrow is nevertheless far more
effective and suitable to the religious service; it is therefore not
surprising to find these _Improperia_ (the first revelation of the genius
of Palestrina) still retained in annual use in the Papal Chapel, and we
may class them as Hauptmann did, as the best example of Palestrina's
second manner. Mendelssohn held them to be Palestrina's most beautiful
work, and the poet Goethe was also greatly moved by them.
The Mass of Pope Marcellus has been cited as the best example of the
master's third style, and at the same time the culmination of his powers.
This Mass is in the so-called Hypo-Ionian mode (although the "Crucifixus"
and "Benedictus" are Mixo-Lydian), and is probably the noblest example of
the employment of the church modes in the pure style. Although the work
is most intricate, Palestrina has here achieved that most difficult feat,
the art of concealing art. It presents all the old fugal artifices, and
the "Agnus Dei" is a close and ingenious canon. It is written for six
voices, soprano, alto, two tenors, and two basses. This in itself was an
unusual combination of voices and gave opportunities for great antiphonal
effect, between the lower voices, and these opportunities are so well
used that the effect of a double choir is frequently attained.
Baini calls the "Kyrie" devout; the "Gloria" animated; the "Credo"
majestic; the "Sanctus" angelic; and the "Agnus Dei" prayerful; but it
is doubtful if the modern auditor will perceive all these distinctions
in listening to the work. Of its dignity and loftiness, however, there
can be no question. One can observe readily how close to the composer's
heart was the injunction that the words should be clearly understood; in
the most important phrases we find counterpoint of the first order (note
against note), while in passages where the same words are often repeated
Palestrina employed the most beautiful contrapuntal imitations. The
voices are so interwoven that wonderful chords greet us in almost every
phrase, yet so free from unnecessary dissonance are these, and so clearly
founded on the progressions of the triads, that the effect of simplicity
is attained even in the midst of the displays of greatest musical skill.
It is true that one can find effective chords in the works of the Flemish
school, but on examining these closely it will be seen that they have
been "filled in," and do not arise spontaneously from the contrapuntal
progressions, while with Palestrina the leading of the voices is never
disturbed in the slightest degree for the sake of the chord-formation,
but all the harmonic effects grow out of the melodic construction of
the various parts, or of the musical imitations introduced between
the voices. It remains to be stated that the great musical historian
Ambros has thrown doubt upon the origin of the Mass just described, and
asseverates that not only was it not written as a model at the request
of the committee of cardinals, but that there was really no occasion for
any especial reform in the matter of church music at the time that it was
produced. The weight of authority and the consensus of opinion, however,
are here entirely against the eminent German scholar, and the facts as
above stated are now almost universally conceded.
In all of Palestrina's church music one cannot fail to notice that
he discards the chromatic progressions which his predecessors and
contemporaries used so freely; he did this from a devout desire to keep
the church modes intact, and if at times, because of this self-denial, he
lost some effects of emotional display, on the whole his works gain much
in purity and dignity in consequence.
If in Palestrina's Masses we find the beginning of chord-effect, the true
principles of harmonic beauty, in his motettes and madrigals one can
discern the first masterly touches of the employment of rhythm. Rhythm
could only reach its true culmination in the homophony which came at a
later epoch, but one can trace a distinct effort in this direction in the
shorter and lighter works of the master, who thus may be regarded as a
connecting link between the old and the new schools.
In the matter of the old triad-construction of his chords, however, he
was inflexible; Des Prés and Di Lasso might use dissonances to express
passion, but he held this kind of passion as too human to enter into his
pure church-music. Monteverde soon after brought in the free use of the
seventh-chords, yet the careful student will find these slyly introduced
in many a work of the 16th century; he will however, find few such
attempts in Palestrina.