November 12, 2005 concert: Center of the
Universe
Program notes

Notes on the Program
by James Bagwell
The dawn of the 17th century in Italy was a time of extraordinary musical experimentation, especially in the way composers dealt with text setting and harmonic practice. In Florence, the new operatic style was introduced in 1600 with two productions of Euridice, one by Jocopo Peri (1561-1633) and another by Giulio Caccini (1551-1618). 1607 saw the performance in Mantua of L’Orfeo, Claudio Monteverdi’s (1567-1643) first operatic masterpiece. Theseearly dramatic works were marked by clear and careful text setting made even plainer with simple chordal accompaniments supported by a strong bass line, or the basso continuo.
In addition to the rise of opera as a viable artistic form, composers began to take new approaches to counterpoint, especially regarding the use of dissonance. The composer and theorist Giovanni Maria Artusi (1540-1613) criticized these experiments in his published dialogue, L’Artusi, overo Delle imperfettioni della moderna musica (The Artusi, or the imperfections of Modern Music, 1600), writing that “new modes, and new turns of phrases…were harsh and little pleasing to the ear.” He was complaining about Monteverdi’s fourth book of madrigals published in 1603, in which the composer was introducing harsh dissonances (at least to the ears of some) to convey text meaning more directly. In 1605, Monteverdi wrote a preface to his fifth book of madrigals defending his new harmonic language, describing it as a “second practice” (seconda prattica) superseding the “first practice” (prima prattica) represented by Artusi’s more conservative position regarding harmony and counterpoint.
These new approaches to musical style were not lost on church music during this time. In fact, the two contrasting musical styles described by Monteverdi were heard side by side at Saint Mark’s Basilica in Venice, which became a center for innovative sacred composition. Three composers—the Italian Giovanni Gabrieli (c.1554-57-1612), his student the German composer Heinrich Schütz (1585-1672), and Monteverdi—stood at the center of a new musical universe. Here the influence of opera and new harmonic approaches combined to create sacred music that was both reverent and dramatically spectacular.
Next to Rome, Venice was the most important city of the Italian peninsula during the 15th and 16th centuries. As an independent state and the chief port for European trade with the East, the city became famous for its extravagant prosperity and splendor. The heart of Venetian musical culture was the great 11th-century Basilica of Saint Mark, with its Byzantine-style domes, bright gold mosaics, and spacious interior. Most of the public ceremonies in Venice took place in the church and the vast piazza facing it, and much of music performed there was as an amalgamation of solemn majesty and festive display.
The position of choirmaster at Saint Mark’s was one of the most coveted musical posts in Italy, and many renowned musicians of the period worked there. Some of the choirmasters in the 16th century were Andrian Willeart, Cipriano de Rore, and Giuseppe Zarlino; organists included Jacques Rore, Claudio Merulo, Andrea Gabrieli, and his nephew, Giovanni Gabrieli. Almost all of these musicians were composers, publishing madrigals and some of the best organ music in Italy. Venetian music at that time was typically characterized by full rich textures, and tended to be chordal rather than contrapuntal. The composers at Saint Mark’s often wrote for double choir, placing the two choirs on opposite sides of the church. This use of cori spezzati (“divided choirs”) was not necessarily original or peculiar to Venice, but the broad chordal richness of the music that Venetians preferred, especially in the acoustic environment of Saint Mark’s, seemed to encourage this practice.
It was the composer Giovanni Gabrieli who in many respects refined and expanded the Venetian style to unheard-of proportions, sometimes employing two, three, or four choirs in addition to brass and organ. He received his early musical education from his uncle, and may have also studied with Orlando di Lasso in Munich. He was only 27 when he was appointed organist at St. Mark’s. Only a few of Gabrieli’s works appeared in print in his lifetime, notably Book I of Sacrae Symphoniae in 1597. His later works were published posthumously and include Book II of Sacrae Symphoniae and Canzoni et Sonate.
The four works by Gabrieli on tonight’s program demonstrate the variety of compositional techniques he employed. O Magnum Mysterium (1587) is for two unaccompanied choruses and a model for clear text setting, relying more on chordal textures rather than on counterpoint. Jubilate Deo, published in Book I of
Sacrae Symphoniae, is for eight-part chorus. Here Gabrieli uses quite vivid text painting, playing especially with the word conjugat (“to bind”) by first presenting the text using an antiphonal effect, which seems to “bounce” the word around. This technique is quickly followed by the chorus sections singing conjugat at the same time, literally binding his musical forces together. The motet Timor et tremor (1615) is a clear example of the harmonic freedom inherent in the “second practice.” It depicts the text in stunning detail, with the opening line, “fear and trembling,” represented in a graphic fashion, with abrupt rests in the middle of the word timor, jagged melodic figures, augmented intervals, and a nervous, fragmented rhythm.
In ecclesiis, also from 1615, has long been regarded as the touchstone for the typical Gabrielian work. The composer’s use of instruments in this piece is expanded, and instead of doubling the vocal line, Gabrieli creates a separate orchestral “part” that contrasts with the sonorities of the choral and solo ensemble. This masterful creation raises the thorny problem of performance practice, especially with regard to how the choirs and orchestras were positioned in St. Mark’s. Conductor Paul McCreesh notes that performing these polychoral works in the manner promoted by textbooks—with the choir and brass spread in the many lofts of St. Mark’s—presents enormous difficulties in regard to ensemble. He further suggests that some of this music may have been better suited to a smaller space, and speculates that the Great Hall of San Rocco in Venice is a likely suspect. In the case of this evening’s concert, pragmatism rather than speculation wins, as the chorus and brass are configured more closely together in order to suit the acoustics of St. Bartholomew’s.
Heinrich Schütz is recognized as one of the most important composers of the mid-17th century, and he was one of the few German baroque composers who combined a far-reaching European perspective with the temperament of a highly individual artist. Prince Moritz of Hessen discovered the young Schütz among the promising choir boys and provided for his musical education. In 1609, Moritz advised that since Giovanni Gabrieli was still alive, Schütz “should not miss the chance to hear him and learn something from him.” With financial support from the Prince, Schütz traveled to Venice in 1609 and spent two years studying with Gabrieli. During that time, the two became quite close, and on his deathbed Gabrieli left Schütz one of his rings. Upon Schütz’s return to Germany, he was appointed music director to the elector of Saxony in Dresden. By the time he was 30, he was the head of the most highly regarded and largest court chapel in Protestant Germany, serving in that position for some 55 years (1617-72). This was interrupted only by a brief stint as Court Conductor in Copenhagen during the Thirty Years’ War. Eventually, Schütz returned to Venice in the 1630s, where he met with Monteverdi, and perhaps even sought his advice on the new operatic style.
By the third year of his permanent appointment in Dresden, Schütz collected psalm settings for double and multiple chorus that he had worked on for about five years. The Psalms of David, published in 1619, contains polychoral setting of 26 psalms, and adopts the grand manner of his teacher Gabrieli, to whom he gives credit in the dedicatory preface. Two works from this extraordinary collection are represented here. Lobe den Herren, meine Seele is scored for double choir, soloists, and organ continuo (like Gabrieli’s music, instruments can be used to double the choral parts). Alleluia. Lobet den Herren is an enormous work scored for two large choruses (Cappella 1 and 2) and two solo choruses (Favoriti 1 and 2). Both of these pieces use a refrain, or ritornello,sung by everyone, which is contrasted with solos or duets. The concerto Saul, Saul, was verfolgst du mich? is from Part III of Symphoniae sacrae of 1650, and uses a text based on two passages in Acts depicting the conversion of St. Paul. Considering the piece’s brevity, Schütz wrote it for astonishingly large forces, calling for six solo singers, two violins, and two large four-part choirs, doubled by instruments. The vocal and instrumental color here is further enhanced by careful dynamic gradations ranging from forte to pianissimo.
Unser Wandel ist im Himmel and Das ist je gewißlich wahr, both published in 1648 in the collection Geistliche Chormusik,demonstrate Schütz’s great skill with setting German texts in a highly personal and intimate way. Unser Wandel, which takes its text from Phillipians 3:20-21, begins with a clear melodic shape that points up toward heaven, as is described in the text. Das ist je gewißlich wahr was originally written in 1631 for the funeral of the composer Johann Hermann Schein. It has been suggested that Schütz’s use of changing meter in this motet was an homage to Schein, who occasionally used shifting time signatures in his work.
Three years after L’Orfeo, Claudio Monteverdi, who was still living in Mantua, composed a significant amount of church music, which was later published in 1610 and dedicated to the Pope. This collection, titled Mass to the Most Holy Virgin for the Six Voices for Church Choirs, and Vespers for Many Voices, together with Some Sacred Harmonies Suitable for Chapels or Princes’ Chambers, is a compendium of sacred styles that coexisted during the early part of the baroque period. The mass setting in this collection is in stile antico, a term that came to mean “old style,” which was modeled primarily on the imitative masses of Josquin and Palestrina. The vesper psalms and the Magnificat settings are in stile moderno, and are labeled by Monteverdi as da concerto; this means that voices and instruments are combined in such a way that the instruments do not always double the voices, but have independent roles. This style, which derives many of its characteristics from opera, was virtuostic and highly theatrical in nature.
It has been suggested that Monteverdi’s collection was, in a sense, a job application for the position of music director at Saint Mark’s. It seems to have worked: on August 19, 1613, he was invited to perform some of his sacred music and was appointed to the post. A considerable amount of the church music that Monteverdi composed in Venice appears to have been lost, but the surviving works suggest that he largely abandoned the older Venetian style using cori spezzati into something less expansive, even restrictive. Beatus Vir, composed in 1640, employs melodies from his popular canzonetta Chiome d’oro, and is written as a rondo, in which the refrain is repeated numerous times. This work is also notable for its “walking” ostinato bass line, which today might be mistaken for an early 20th-century pop or jazz piece. Dixit Dominus (1641) uses overtly syllabic text setting, with the sections of the chorus almost always singing the text at the same time and little in the way of counterpoint. The text setting here is dramatic and overt, especially with the text implebit ruinas (“he shall pile up ruins”), in which Monteverdi literally stacks the choral entrances, one on top of the other. Both of these works are concerted, with trombones doubling the lower voice parts. Cantate Domino, a short six-voice motet from 1620, borrows some of its melodic material from Monteverdi’s early madrigal Ecco mormorar l’onde.
It should be noted that the Missa in illo tempore performed tonight was attributed to Monteverdi until the mid-1970s, but has since been refuted. (Monteverdi did in fact compose a six-voice Missa in illo tempore and included it in his collection published in 1610.) This anonymous work is an example of the old style which was very much part of the musical culture of St. Mark’s during Monteverdi’s tenure. Based on a motet by Nicolas Gombert, the piece sounds utterly stark in contrast to the other works presented here, and reflects the variety of styles that might have been heard in Venice in the early to mid-17th century.*
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* I am grateful to Paul Schleuse for his insight on Missa in illo tempore.
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