Makers of Motets and Madrigals—Rise of Schools 15th and 16th Centuries
Don’t you think it strange that we have not told you of any pieces
written for the lute alone, or for the viol or any other instrument? The
reason is that until 1700, there was little music for a solo instrument,
but only for voices alone or for voice and instrument together.
The main sport of composers of this time, was to take a popular tune and
write music around it. The popular tune was called the _cantus firmus_
(subject or fixed song) and the composer who did the fanciest things
with the tune was hailed as great. So instead of wanting to make up
tunes as we do, they were anxious to see what they could do with old
tunes. Times change, don’t they?
“Like children who break their toys to see how they work, they learned
to break up the musical phrases into little bits which they repeated,
which they moved from one part to another; in this way the dividing of
themes (tunes) came, which led them to the use of imitation and of
canon; these early and innocent gardeners finally learned how to make
the trees of the enchanted garden of music bear fruit. Still timid, they
kept the custom for three centuries of making all their pieces from
parts of plain-song or of a popular song, instead of inventing subjects
for themselves; thus, what is prized today above every thing else—the
making of original melodies—was secondary in the minds of the musicians,
so busy were they trying to organize their art, so earnestly were they
trying to learn the use of their tools.” (Translated from the French
from _Palestrina_, by Michel Brenet).
By spending their time this way, they added much to the science of
music. If it was not pretty, at least it was full of interesting
discoveries which composers used later, as we shall see, in fugues,
canons, suites and many other forms.
The most popular forms of composition during these two centuries (the
15th and the 16th) were the motet for Church and the madrigal for
outside the Church.
WHAT A MOTET IS
The _motet_ probably gets its name from a kind of profane song (not
sacred) that was called in Italian _mottetto_, and translated into
French _bon mot_, means a jest. It dates back to the 13th century, and
was disliked by the Church. The first motets used in the Church in the
early 14th century are very crude to our ears, but interesting
historically. The composers of the different schools of this period
wrote many of them. Motets were usually those parts of the church ritual
which depended on the day or season. They were not the regular unaltered
parts like the mass itself.
This motet, or part-song, used as its central theme a tune already
familiar to its hearers; this tune, the _cantus firmus_ was sometimes a
bit from a Gregorian chant or from a mass, but more often it was a
snatch from a dance song or a folk song with very vulgar words, or it
may have been a troubadour love song with anything but the right kind of
words for the Church. The words for one part were often from the Bible
and for other parts very coarse words from popular tunes. Imagine
singing them at the same time! Still funnier, the words of the sacred
song were sung in Latin and the popular song was sung in whatever
language it happened to be written! Can you think of anything more
ridiculous? The masses came to be known by the names from which the tune
was taken and nearly every composer including the great Palestrina wrote
masses on a popular tune of the day, _L’homme armé_ (The Man in Armor).
Yet they were all quite different, so varied had become the science of
writing counterpoint.
Josquin des Près (1450–1521) the Flemish composer wrote a motet,
_Victimae Paschali_, which is written around an old Gregorian
plainchant, interwoven with two popular _rondelli_ (in French _roundel_
from which comes our terms _roundelay_ and _rondo_) and a _Stabat Mater_
of his. The _cantus firmus_, or subject of this motet is another secular
or popular air.
The popular composers returned the compliment and took themes or tunes
from church music and put secular words to them. History repeats itself,
for we today take a tune from Handel’s _Messiah_ and use it in _Yes, We
Have No Bananas_ and we jazz the beautiful and noble music of Chopin,
Beethoven, Schubert and many others.
Yet this music,—the child we are watching grow up—because of mixing up
sacred and profane music soon gets a big reprimand.
The northern part of France seems to have been the birthplace of the
motet; a little later it found its way into Italy where some of the
finest music of the period was written, and the Italian influence
reached into Spain in the middle of the 15th century; at the end of the
century the Venetian school had spread its work into Germany. In the
17th century the name _motet_ was given to a kind of composition between
a cantata and an oratorio, but it had nothing to do with the famous
motet of the 15th and 16th centuries which we are discussing.
To show you how clever the men were in these days, one composer wrote a
motet in thirty-six parts!
In the Library of the Sistine Chapel in Rome are volumes containing the
motets of the 14th century, copied, of course, by hand in notes large
enough to be seen and read by the whole choir! These books are
beautifully decorated in gold and lovely colors, or illuminated, and are
of great value.
MADRIGALS OR POPULAR MOTETS
All music of this period not composed for the Church had the general
name of Madrigal, but a real madrigal was a vocal composition for from
three to six parts written on a secular subject, which often gave to the
work a grace and lightness not in the motet. The vocal madrigals were to
the music lovers of that day what chamber music is today, for
instruments were not yet used without singing. Later, the lute played
the chief melody with the voice, and it was only a step to have other
instruments play the other parts of the madrigal. The instruments played
a section of the composition alone while waiting for a solo singer to
appear. He sang a part of the madrigal that was later called the air and
the instrumental part was called the _ritournelle_, which literally
meant that in this section of the work, the singer returned from
“off-stage” where he had awaited his turn. By the end of the 16th
century it had become the custom for motets as well as madrigals to have
a solo air or aria, and an instrumental _ritournelle_, and this was the
beginning of chamber music,—a very great oak which grew from a very
little acorn.
In the first printed music books are many of the madrigals of the early
period. We will tell you of the composers of this period separately, but
remember that they all wrote practically the same kind of music,—masses,
motets, and madrigals, but all with the subject borrowed from something
they knew and with many parts for the voices. Often, too, the same tunes
were used for Church and outside the Church. For this reason much music
was published without the words, so that the singers could use sacred or
profane words as they wished.
Strange as it may seem, it was the folk songs and ballads and not the
_learned_ church music, that had originality and came freely and
sincerely from the hearts of the people.
SONGS IN DANCE FORM
Because these contrapuntal writings were heavy (can you imagine dancing
to a canon?) a new kind influenced by folk music grew up among these
people who were naturally gay and jolly and wished to be entertained.
Songs for three and four parts appeared, more popular in style and
simpler in form than the church motet and were the descendants of the
music of the troubadours. These were in dance form, such as the French
_chanson_, the _vilanelle_, the Italian _canzona_, _canzonetta_ or
little canzona, _frottola_, _strambottes_ and the German _lied_. Many of
these songs in dance form later inspired composers to write music for
instruments alone, so that people danced to music without singing. These
dance songs were called _branles_, _pavanes_, _gaillardes_, _courantes_,
_forlanes_, _rigaudons_ _sarabandes_, _gigues_, _gavottes_ and many
other names.
THE LUTE
The favorite instrument of the 15th and 16th centuries was the lute. It
fought for first place with the vielle, the viole, the harp, the
psalterion and the portative organ, but won the fight and took its place
beside the most famous singers of the day, sometimes for accompanying
and again reaching the dignity of soloist, as we told you above. In the
15th century it took the form, which we see most often represented in
pictures and in museums, with its six strings, graceful round body, and
long neck bent back as you can see in plate opposite page 127 already
described. As time went on this lute was made larger and strings were
added until at the beginning of the 17th century, it was replaced by an
instrument called the arch-lute or theorbo, which had twenty-four
strings, a double neck, and two sets of tuning pins.
The spinets or virginals, the great-aunts of our pianofortes first came
into vogue in the 15th and 16th centuries.
TABLATURE
There was a notation called Tablature used in the 16th and 17th
centuries to write down the music for lute and other stringed
instruments such as the viol, cittern, theorbo. You will find, in
pictures of Tablature, lines which look like our staff, but they do not
form a staff, but simply represent the _strings_ of the instrument.
These lines vary according to the number of strings, from four for the
cittern to six for the lute. The notation showed, not the position and
fingering as we write music, but the position and fingering of frets and
strings. Instead of _neumes_ or notes you will find the alphabet up to
the letter _j_, figures and queer dots and lines and slurs, but each
sign had its own meaning and was important to the lutenist.
RISE OF SCHOOLS
As music outgrows childhood, Schools of Music are started. But these are
not like the schools to which we go every day, but are rather music
groups or centers. Suppose you were a composer and lived in New York and
knew a dozen or so musicians who were writing the same kind of music as
you; the music, if good enough to be known and played, would be called
the New York School, or it might be called the 1925 School! Or, if you
were important enough to be imitated by your followers, it would be
called the Smith School, if that happened to be your name, just as those
who imitate Wagner are said to be the Wagner School, and so it goes. Not
a school to go to, but a school to belong to!
“What makes these schools start?” we can hear you ask. Many things.
Sometimes people are oppressed by their rulers and in trying to forget
their troubles, they naturally want to express themselves in the art
they know, and in this way groups get together and a school grows.
Sometimes the Church is the cause of schools of music, literature, and
art, and we shall see in this chapter how the Church influenced the
schools of music of this time and made it one of the most important
periods in this story. Sometimes, too, the climate has caused the
development of different styles as we told you in the chapter on folk
music. It often happens too, that a great man or a great school in one
country affects other countries.
FRANCO-FLEMISH SCHOOL
The first real group of composers to be called a “School” lived in the
part of Europe that today covers the north of France, Belgium and the
Netherlands. The composers who were born from 1400 to about 1530, in the
so-called Low Countries belonged to this school. Some writers claim that
there were three schools, and that the Franco-Flemish (Gallo-Belgic) is
a bridge between the Paris school of the 14th century and the
Netherlands school of the 16th. But it would be impossible to say when
one school began and another ended, as they all wrote the same kind of
music. As the older composers were the teachers of the younger, the
interesting thing to know is that many of these masters of the north of
Europe went to Italy, Spain, France, and to Germany, and spread the
knowledge of the “new art” of counterpoint and vocal poly-melody (many
melodies) and filled positions of importance in the churches. They were
considered such splendid teachers, that many of the young students of
other nationalities went to Holland and Belgium to be taught.
Zeelandia, a Hollander, an important master in this new school, tried to
get rid of the awkward intervals, fourths and fifths, which were used in
organum (see Chapter VII), and was the first composer to give the
subject or _cantus firmus_ to the soprano voice instead of the tenor.
Doesn’t it seem strange that it took so long to let the soprano have the
main tune?
But the most important composer of his period (1400–1474) was Guillaume
Dufay, from Flanders, who was a chorister in the Papal choir (choir of
the Pope) in Rome. He made the rules and imitation for the canon (a
grown up round) and he was the first composer to use the folk song
_L’homme armé_ (The Man in Armor) in a mass.
The next important name is Jan Okeghem (1430–1495), a Hollander, who
improved the science of counterpoint and of fugue writing. We have
already mentioned his canon for thirty-six voices (page 149), and he
wrote some puzzle canons, for use in secret guilds. No one could solve
these without the key and they were much harder than the world’s best
cross-word puzzles. He tried to make music express the beauty he felt,
and not merely be mathematical problems in tone, as was much of the
music of his day. He was the teacher of several famous musicians among
whom were Hobrecht (who became the teacher of Erasmus, the learned Dutch
religious reformer), Tinctoris, Josquin des Près, Loyset Compère, and
Agricola who spent most of his life in Spain and Portugal. In fact,
Okeghem taught so many, that the art of counterpoint was taken into all
countries by his pupils, so he can be called the founder of all music
schools from his own day to the present. He was chaplain at the French
court and, during forty years there, served three Kings of France!
Tinctoris, a Belgian (1446–1511), founded the first school of music in
Italy at Naples, and wrote a dictionary of musical terms.
But the “Prince” of musicians of the 15th century, was Josquin des Près,
or de Près (1455–1525). He was a pupil of Okeghem, and although born in
Flanders, spent much of his life away from his home; he was a member of
the Papal choir in Rome and afterwards lived at the court of Louis XII
in France. He also wrote a mass on the theme of _L’homme armé_, and many
other masses, motets, and madrigals. Luther said of him,—“Josquin des
Près is a master of the notes. They do as he wills. Other composers must
do as the notes will. His compositions are joyous, gentle and lovely;
not forced, not constrained, nor slavishly tied to the rules, but free
as the song of a finch.”
Josquin des Près had many pupils, and among them were many who became
famous. Clement Janequin, or Jannequin, is one of the best known from
his music, and least known from the facts of his life. Most of his works
are of a secular nature and are original and amusing, and so perfect
that some people thought him as good as his popular teacher. He was one
of the first serious composers to imitate the sounds of Nature in music!
One of his famous madrigals is the _Chant des Oiseaux_ (Song of the
Birds) in which he tries to represent the sounds of birds of all kinds.
In the middle of the piece is heard the hoot of an owl; the birds get
together and chase away the poor hated owl, calling him a traitor, then
all is quiet again. Another of his pieces is named _The Cackle of
Women!_ Another famous one still frequently sung is the _Battle of
Marignan_ (1515), a lively piece in varied rhythm, which was one of the
most popular army songs of the 16th century. The words and music
imitate, first the tools of war, then the noise of the cannons and the
crackling of the guns, the joy of victory for the French, and the
retreat of the Swiss.
Another eminent pupil of Josquin des Près was Nicolas Gombert, of
Bruges. Like Jannequin, he was a Nature lover, and many of his madrigals
imitate its sounds. Secular music was now popular, and his works show
that a composer was allowed to give expression to his feelings and
ideas, for the prejudices of the earlier church music had disappeared.
Jean Mouton, a native of Metz, was in the chapel of Louis XII and of
François I, King of France. His style was like his master’s and some of
his works were supposed to have been composed by Josquin.
WILLAERT FOUNDS THE VENETIAN SCHOOL
Willaert was a pupil of both Josquin and Mouton. He was chapel master at
St. Mark’s in Venice, and was so famous as a teacher that he attracted
many good musicians, and became the founder of the famous Venetian
school of composers. He wrote many madrigals, some of them on verses of
Petrarch, the Italian poet. This work was accomplished after he was
sixty years old!
Willaert was the first organist to use two and sometimes three choirs,
each singing in four parts. Sometimes they sang in combination and
sometimes answered each other antiphonally. According to Clarence G.
Hamilton in his book _Outlines of Music History_, the idea of these
choirs was probably suggested to Willaert because there were in St.
Mark’s two very fine organs. In this you see the influence instruments
have on the growth of musical compositions.
Willaert made use too, of the idea that the different parts could be
sounded together to form chords, instead of individual melodies as was
the case in poly-melody (polyphony or in the contrapuntal style). This
was a new idea, for up to this time the musicians had been writing
horizontal music, the melodic line looking something like this:
[Illustration: S A T B]
Willaert’s idea, which probably came from folk-song and from some of the
hymns that Luther created, was colonnade-like (see Chapter VII) or
perpendicular music, which we might illustrate like this:
[Illustration: ||||||| or]
ST. NICHOLAS TUNE BY ORLANDUS LASSUS
[Illustration]
in which each line represents a chord, with the melody at the top. This
is how Harmony, or the science of chords, came into use as we know it
now.
Among Willaert’s pupils were Cyprian de Rore of Antwerp, who succeeded
his master at St. Mark’s, and most of his works were madrigals which
gained him much fame in Italy. He was one of the first to use the
chromatic scale (scale in semi-tones like black and white keys on the
piano).
An Italian, Zarlino, pupil of Willaert, must be mentioned here, not as a
writer of music but as the author of three most important books on
harmony and theory. These books seem to have been very much needed for
they were reprinted many times. Another Italian pupil of Willaert was
Andrea Gabrieli, like his master, also an organist at St. Mark’s.
The greatest contribution from this Venetian school was its important
use of instrumental music as an independent art, thus giving music a
great push forward.
A composer whose motets and madrigals we still hear frequently is Jacob
Arcadelt, a Netherlander, who spent most of his life in Italy, and
shared with Willaert the glory of being one of the founders of the
Venetian school. He was a singer at the court of Florence, singing
master to the choir boys at St. Peter’s in Rome, and then he became a
member of the Papal choir.
The life of Claude Goudimel seems, from the little we know, to have been
dramatic. He is supposed to have been in Rome where he taught
Palestrina, the greatest composer of the age. One writer says that he
never was in Rome and was not the teacher of Palestrina! Even his
birthplace is disputed. What is certain, however, is that he met his
death in the massacre of the Huguenots (Protestants) at Lyons in 1572.
He wrote many settings of Calvinist Psalms by Clement Marot which work
led to his being a victim of the massacre.
SWEELINCK FOUNDS 17TH CENTURY ORGAN SCHOOL
One of the last of the Netherland school was Jan Sweelinck (1562–1621),
the greatest organist of his time. He had so many pupils from every
country in Europe, that he became the founder of a very famous school of
organists. Among them were Scheidt, Reinken of whom the story is told
that Bach as a young boy walked miles to hear him play, and Buxtehude, a
Dane, who was one of the greatest of the time of Bach. Sweelinck
perfected the Organ Fugue which Bach later made more beautiful than any
other composer. Sweelinck’s talent and work were so deeply appreciated
in his home, Amsterdam, that the merchants of that city gave him a
generous income for his old age. A splendid thing to have done!
THE GREAT LASSUS
The greatest composer of this Netherland school was Orlandus Lassus, or
Orlando di Lasso, or Roland de Lattre, take your choice! He was born in
Mons, Belgium, some time between 1520 and 1532. When he was a child he
had such a beautiful voice that he was kidnapped three times from the
school where he lived with the other choristers. The third time he
stayed with the Governor of Sicily, Ferdinand Gonzague, and went from
Sicily to Milan, then to Naples and then to Rome where he became
director of the choir of one of the most celebrated churches. After this
he went to England and to France and finally returned to Antwerp. In
1557 he was invited to the court of the Duke of Bavaria in Munich to
direct the chamber music. There he married a lady of the court and had
two daughters and four sons, who were musicians. Later he was made
master of the chapel, and the men who lived at that time said he was an
inspiring choir director, a great composer, and was deeply reverenced
and loved. The Duke was a splendid helper and patron of music, and
encouraged him to make their choir of ninety men one of the finest in
the world. Their lives were made so pleasant that a book, published in
1568, says, “had the Heavenly Choir been suddenly dismissed, it would
straightway have made for the court of Munich, there to find peace and
retirement!”
Lassus used wind and brass instruments to accompany the voices which
were kept quite separate from the strings. At a banquet, the wind
instruments were heard during the early courses, then the strings
directed by someone else, then, during the dessert, Lassus would direct
the singing of the choir. So “chamber music” appears at this point in
the growth of music.
At the Duke’s suggestion, Lassus wrote music for seven _Penitential
Psalms_ which were sung to the unhappy King, Charles IX, after the
massacre of the Huguenots on St. Bartholomew’s eve.
He wrote secular music as well as sacred and showed a keen sense of
humor in several of his secular pieces.
Soon after 1574, he wrote a set of twenty-four pieces for two parts:
twelve have words and are vocal duets, and the other twelve are without
words, to be played on instruments. The two groups are exactly alike in
form which shows that many of the motets and madrigals for voices were
often played on instruments alone.
The Hymn to St. John from which Guido d’Arezzo took the names of the
scale degrees, was made into a beautiful composition by Lassus; the
tenor sings a _cantus firmus_ of the tones of the scales, around which
are woven many parts in counterpoint.
One festival day there was a violent storm in Munich, and orders were
given that the usual procession from the Church through the town should
not take place, but should be held inside the Church. As the head of the
procession reached the porch of the Church, and the choir started a
motet by Lassus, the sun suddenly came out and the procession went on as
usual through the town. This was looked upon as a miracle, and whenever
fine weather was wanted very much, this motet was chosen! This story
does not tell whether the miracle always worked!
In Lassus’ later church music, he simplified the complicated
contrapuntal style, perhaps because he lived in the country where Luther
had introduced the chorale. (Page 166.) Even though Lassus wrote masses
and motets for the Catholic Church, he must have heard these new hymns,
and was unknowingly influenced by them.
A complete edition of all his works would fill almost sixty volumes. If
you can realize the huge task all this must have been, you will not be
surprised that his over-tired brain finally gave out and during the last
five years of his life he did no more composing. He died in 1594.
Orlandus Lassus was the last and one of the greatest of this Netherland,
or Franco-Flemish school, that for two hundred years had led the world
of music. Music had changed from a cocoon, gradually developing into a
radiant butterfly, or, in our book, we should say that music had left
childhood and was becoming a stalwart lad.
RONSARD—FRENCH POET
Before leaving the subject of these northern madrigal writers, we must
tell you about the famous French poet, Pierre de Ronsard, who was born
just four hundred years ago (1525). He supplied more composers with
words for their madrigals than any other poet of his age, and he also
sang some of his poems put to music. He said that without music poetry
was almost without grace, and that music without the melody of verse was
lifeless. Of course, today the poetry and music have become so
independent of each other, that many poets object to having verse made a
servant of music, and many musicians think that music without words,
that is, instrumental music, is the highest type of musical art.
In 1552, Ronsard asked four of the leading composers to set some of his
sonnets to music. Jannequin, Pierre Certon, Claude Goudimel and Muret
accepted, each composing music for the same ten sonnets. This experiment
was so successful, that it was the talk of the entire court, and Ronsard
published all the songs in his first volume of poetry. About the time
that Shakespeare was born, in England, but long before he had said,
The man that hath no music in his soul
Is fit for treason, stratagem and spoils,
Ronsard wrote a preface to a collection of songs dedicated to King
Charles IX, in which he says: “How could one get along with a man who
innately hated music? He who does not honor music, is not worthy to see
the soft light of the sun.”
Besides the four musicians who set the sonnets, others who used Ronsard
poems as texts for songs and madrigals were Philip de Monte (or Mons),
G. Costeley, organist to Charles IX, de la Grotte, organist to Henri
III, and Orlandus Lassus.