The
Society for Seventeenth-Century Music
Eighth Annual Conference
Vermillion, South Dakota
April 27-30, 2000
ABSTRACTS
(in alphabetical order by author)
SPANISH NUN MUSICIANS: EARLY MODERN CAREER GIRLS?
Colleen R. Baade
Lincoln, Nebraska
This paper examines the social situation of Spanish nun musicians at women’s
monasteries in Madrid, Segovia, Toledo, and Valladolid during the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries. Sources for my study include contracts for reception
and profession of nun musicians whose dowries were waived or reduced in exchange
for their service as musician, and monastery account books which show that
some religious communities paid regular monetary stipends to sister musicians.
I will address the question of just what a girl’s musical ability was worth
and discuss ways in which the duties of and compensation to nun musicians
changed from the beginning of the seventeenth century to the end of the eighteenth.
It has been contended that a position as convent musician constituted one
of very few “career opportunities” available to women in early modern Europe,
but documentary evidence suggests that the majority of girls who received
dowry waivers were prepared from early childhood by parents or guardians
to become nun musicians because their families had no other means of paying
a nun’s dowry, let alone any prospects for securing a suitable marriage.
The demands placed upon “hired” nun musicians were probably quite heavy,
and most of these women, unless prevented by illness or old age, were expected
to serve as convent musicians their entire lives. In one case,
a nun whose age and ailment prevented her from playing was required to refund
part of the dowry that had been waived for her in order to be released from
her duties as convent musician. In the end, it seems that girls who
could afford to pay a full nun’s dowry preferred to do so rather than be
obligated to a life of musical servitude; indeed, the dowry contract for
one wealthy and talented young girl states emphatically that “she is not
entering as a singer or instrumentalist” although the document concedes that
“she will play and she will sing and she will sweep and she will do the other
things that her superior may demand of her.” While a position as convent
musician must have provided a welcome opportunity for some girls, for others
it seems to have been viewed akin to that of a maid.
‘UNMEASURED’ PRELUDES IN ENGLAND?
Candace Bailey
North Carolina Central University
Durham, North Carolina
The unmeasured preludes of the seventeenth-century clavecinistes have long
been celebrated for their unusual notation, and the graceful penmanship of
those by Louis Couperin in the famous Bauyn manuscript are unsurpassed visually
in the keyboard literature. Nonetheless, despite their apparent popularity,
the performance practice of such preludes was difficult to convey in written
form and evidently baffled some players. Indeed, by the early years
of the eighteenth century, Francois Couperin (nephew of Louis) had all but
given up on the notation used by the elder masters.
If the practice was difficult to convey in France, where the preludes originated,
did it occur elsewhere? A thriving school of keyboard composition flourished
at this time in England, and a few French pieces appeared in English sources
at the end of the seventeenth century. However, there are few similarities
in the constitutions of French and English suites of the late-seventeenth
century, and no French unmeasured preludes appear in English sources until
ca. 1691.
At least two English preludes, however, exhibit evidence of having possibly
been inspired by French unmeasured preludes: one each by Locke and Roberts
in Melothesia (1673). Although these two works never utilize the beautifully
flowing whole notes that are a part of some French unmeasured preludes, they
nonetheless seem to be based on a very similar idea. More importantly,
they do not resemble contemporary English keyboard music in several ways,
even other works by the same two composers.
But how did this style reach English composers? I will demonstrate that the
answer cannot be found with French lutenists or clavecinistes. A more
likely explanation depends on the visit by the eminent keyboard performer
Johann Jakob Froberger to England in 1651 or 1652. A personal relationship
existed between Louis Couperin and Froberger, and Paul Prevost has confirmed
Froberger’s influence on Couperin. While Froberger was in England,
English composers may have had an opportunity to hear him perform the very
pieces that connect him with Couperin’s unmeasured preludes. This exegesis
would account for the conventional notation of the English works, for
Froberger’s works and the preludes in question by Locke and Roberts are remarkable.
This paper will examine the use of characteristic figures from the toccatas
of Froberger in the preludes of English composers, as well as document other
evidence (such as Thomas Ford’s biographical dictionary) that English composers
were acquainted with Froberger’s keyboard music.
ON INSTRUMENTATION IN THE EARLY SEVENTEENTH CENTURY:
THE CASE OF CHRISTOPH STRAUS
Stewart Carter, Wake Forest University
Winston-Salem, North Carolina
Among the many “revolutions” in musical style at the dawn of the Baroque
era, one of the most enduring was a new attitude toward instruments, as composers
began to specify them and theorists to describe them in encyclopedic fashion.
Much has been made of the use of instruments by such figures as Giovanni
Gabrieli and Michael Praetorius. But the music of Christoph Straus,
who served as Kapellmeister to the Habsburg Emperor Mathias from 1616 to
1620, reveals a unique approach to instrumental practice. His Nova
ac diversimoda sacrarum cantionum compositio seu motetae, 5.6.7.8.9 &
10. Vocibus quam Instrumentis (1613) is an eclectic mixture of modern
and traditional styles, reflecting at once the powerful influence of the
instrumental color. Straus’s concerti reveal the influence of Gabrieli, both
in the sweep of the melodic lines and in the use of instruments. But
in certain respects Straus surpasses Gabrieli, for his instrumental palette
is richer: he calls for violins, violas de gamba, cornetts, trombones, and
fagotti. Moreover, Strauss specifies not only cornetto, but also occasionally
cornetto muto; and in the double-choir Gabriel Angelus, not only fagotto,
but specifically fagotto grande, fagotto commune, and fagotto piccolo.
Yet, paradoxically, Straus never specifies basso continuo in any of his works.
The objective of this paper is to reveal Straus as both an innovator and
a conservative in instrumental practice, through an examination of the terminology,
range, and musical context associated with his instrumental writing.
Awarded the SSCM Student Paper Prize for 2000
________________________________
A NEWLY DISCOVERED SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY SOURCE
OF FRENCH HUNTING HORN SIGNALS
Stuart Cheney
Mount Rainier, Maryland
A manuscript copied in Paris beginning in 1666 and currently housed at the
Library of congress (M2.1.T2 17c case) sheds new light on several aspects
of late-seventeenth-century French instrumental practice. First, the
intriguing combination of repertoires appearing in a single manuscript (four
suites of viol pieces, six violin tunes, and twenty-five hunting horn signals)
is unique in sources of this period. Second, the number of different
handwritings and their interrelationships may alter our understanding of
musical apprenticeships in late seventeenth-century France, since the manuscript
was almost certainly a student’s notebook. Third, and most significant,
the horn signals - notated in a unique tablature system that indicates articulation,
relative pitch, and rhythm - are the earliest examples of horn notation to
indicate more than a single pitch. These are by far the longest collection,
either printed or manuscript, of hunting signals before the publication of
Marc-Antoine Dampierre’s twenty-six signals in 1734.
The significance of the viol music in this source is already well established:
the manuscript contains the earliest dated pieces from the French viol school,
the oldest French suites for any medium in the “classic” sequence, Prelude-AllemandeCourante-Sarabande-Gigue,
and the earliest set of instructions written in France for bowing and fingering
the instrument. In addition to the viol pieces there are six dance
pieces which were almost certainly intended to be played on violin; two are
unica, while the others have concordances in other violin, lute, or guitar
dance collections.
We know that horn signals consisting of different pitches began to be notated
sometime after Mersenne’s discussion of the instrument (Harnmonie universelle,
1636-7), which illustrated signals consisting of a single pitch, and before
the appearance of seven signals copied by Andre Danican Philidor at least
fifty years later, which contain seven pitches. Such a shift may have
coincided with the transformation of the helical horn into the hoop-like
instrument (trompe de chasse) worn over the shoulder, which evidently occurred
during the same period. The horn signals in the Library of congress
mauscript were probably copied in the late 1660s, and therefore present new
evidence to fill this fifty-year gap. The twenty-five signals call
for five distinct pitches (the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and eighth partials)
in a notation that also hints at rhythmic duration and groupings. Also
new in this source is the increase in the number of articulation syllables
from one (in Mersenne and others) to at least five. In addition, comparison
of the Library of Congress and Philidor signals yields interesting melodic
relationships.
The inclusion of horn signals together with pieces for viol and violin raises
interesting questions about the manuscript’s owner, who was probably a young
man being trained for the music profession. At least rudimentary knowledge
of all three instruments was seemingly necessary for certain kinds of musical
posts1 with emphasis here being given to the horn signals employed during
aristocratic hunts. Although surviving contracts for musical training
in this period mention only one master responsible for a young musician’s
training, evidence in the Library of congress manuscript indicates that several
specialists contributed to the student’s instruction. For example, names
and addresses of one and possibly two known maîtres de musique appear
with the appropriate repertoires (Dubuisson, the composer of the viol pieces,
and Jacques Chrestien, the royal horn maker whose atelier is often credited
with creating the trompe de chasse). In addition, each of the three
repertoires is copied in a different hand; however, the same master that
wrote the viol instructions also added annotations to some of the horn signals,
clarifying their function in the context of the hunt. This may have
been the apprentice’s principal teacher, supervising the young man’s instructions
on the different instruments.
The history of the hunting horn’s repertoire and its notation is sketchy
between 1636 and circa 1700, the beginning of MarcAntoine Dampierre’s career;
by the 1730s Dampierre had established the basis of a tradition that
still persists in France and Belgium. The sizable repertoire of horn signals
that was copied into the Library of congress manuscript around 1666 not only
provides clear evidence of the practices from this crucial late seventeenth-century
period but, together with the viol and violin works contained therein, also
reveals new information about the training of some professional musicians.
MEANTONE TEMPERAMENTS ON THE LUTE
David Dolata, Eastern Washington University
Cheney, Washington
Few performance practice issues are more controversial or more contentious
than the use of unequal temperaments on the lute. Despite the overwhelming
evidence that sixteenth and seventeenth-century lutenists and players of
other fretted instruments (citterns, orpharions, violists, etc.) often preferred
meantone temperaments over equal temperament and despite the fact that some
of today’s finest lutenists and early music ensembles perform and record
in meantone temperaments, a large portion of the community of contemporary
lutenists, many of them professional and well-known, perpetuate the myth
that unequal temperaments on lutes have no basis in historical precedent
and that they are either impractical or impossible, when in fact the opposite
is demonstrably true. I attribute this campaign of misinformation not
to any will on the part of it proponents, but rather to a simple lack of
information or in the worst case to an unwillingness to consider what they
perceive to be a complicated concept. In a modern musical society where
most of us have known nothing but equal temperament, being asked to contemplate
unequal temperaments is not unlike asking a fourteenth-century Parisian to
consider that the world might be round instead of flat. A certain amount
of resistance is understandable and yet there are few performance practice
issues where so many benefits can be derived from such little effort.
Although the primary purpose of this paper is not to convince skeptics that
contemporary use of unequal temperaments on the lute is practical, beneficial,
and based on historical precedent, we will begin with an explanation of the
benefits mentioned above and continue with a concise statement of the evidence
that supports the prevalent use of these temperaments on lutes and other
fretted instruments in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Our
main focus will be an explanation of why meantone and other related unequal
temperaments were created, and how they work, and how they are easily applied
to the lute. We will conclude with a discussion of how to solve the
relatively minor practical obstacles a lutenist confronts when the lute’s
frets are arranged in an unequal temperament. Throughout the course of the
presentation we will review terminology and demonstrate examples using a
lute tuned in 1/6 syntonic comma meantone temperament.
THE “PROBLEM” OF SACRED MUSIC BETWEEN SCHÜTZ AND
BACH
Mary E. Frandsen, University of Notre Dame
Notre Dame, Indiana
Although the Baroque period represents the “Golden Age” of Lutheran church
music, scholarly attention to the repertoire of this era has been uneven.
Two of the great heroes of the age, Schtitz and Bach, dominate either end
of the period, but a tacit assumption exists, perpetuated by the conspicuous
absence of this repertoire in scholarly discourse and music history texts,
that those who flourished in the interim - the Buxtehude generation - were
for the most part forgettable. Much of their music still lies unedited in
libraries, little of it has been recorded, and no comprehensive study of
the repertoire exists. Granted, some real barriers to performance have worked
to keep many of these compositions off concert programs, particularly the
level of virtuosity demanded by many of the vocal and instrumental parts.
But does this alone account for the neglect of the repertoire? Or have
we judged it against a definition of greatness that cannot accommodate many
of its defining characteristics? Whatever its true causes, this
neglect has left us with only a partial understanding of the period as a
whole, and has undermined our attempts fully to contextualize the music of
the giants as well.
When the repertoire of this middle generation is approached with traditional
analytical methods, it often fares poorly, for musical aspects that have
traditionally engaged scholars have ceded place to those that offer little
to “tear apart.” Counterpoint no longer dominates these musical structures,
which depend on more transparent melody and accompaniment textures.
The tonal language, now crypto-tonal rather than quasi-modal, has lost the
“spice” of Schützian harmony, but does not yet approach the chromatic
richness of Bach. And the musical rhetoric of the Schtitz generation
has also been supplanted by a new conception of affect.
But the differences that we perceive in this repertoire are not solely musical.
Around mid—century, the essential nature of German sacred music began to
change, in response to a new consciousness of the personal in devotional
life. While the repertoire of the earlier half of the century - the
era of the 30 Year’s War - attempted to reassure a ravaged population of
God’s power through a ‘monumentality’ of message, the latter half of the
century exchanged this monumentality for a quality of quiet intimacy.
These changes are most evident in the adoption of a new style of text, often
extra-scriptural and poetic in nature, that came out of Italy, and which
focused on the piety of the individual rather than the traditional “community
of believers.” As a result, the later repertoire is dominated by texts
that probe the speaker’s (and thus the listener’s) personal relationship
with God. In their musical response to these texts, composers reach for a
similar degree of intimacy, and project the “voice” of the individual believer
through the voice of a soloist. Thus “preaching in music” largely disappears,
and the use of vocal counterpoint - the musical analogue of the “community”
- becomes less prominent, losing place to simple1 lyrical melodies that capture
the sensibility of the text.
In this paper, I will locate the origins of this repertorial “problem” in
the nature of the musical responses to the new spirituality of the era, and
will demonstrate how these often conflict with our notation of “greatness”
in music - the power to elicit intense intellectual and emotional responses
from the auditor. Such a view fails to take into account the
changes in the nature of public and private spiritual life that occurred
over the course of the seventeenth century, and that fostered a movement
toward quiet introspection in sacred music. If we attempt to view the
music of Buxtehude, Pohle, Geist, Bernhard, and their contemporaries through
the lens of either Schütz or Bach, we will always encounter disappointment,
for they do not share the same musical agenda. Thus it is essential
that we establish the religious and cultural context of this music, in order
better to understand the forces that animate it.
DUFAUT AND THE ORIGINS OF THE TOMBEAU
Robert A. Green, Northern Illinois University
DeKalb, Illinois
The tombeau, a commemorative piece of lament in the form of a pavan or allemande,
became a distinctive feature of the lute repertory in the seventeenth century.
Although scholars, such as Philippe Vendrix, have speculated in passing about
the origins of the tombeau, no one has attempted to determine exactly what
led to its seemingly sudden appearance with Le Vieux Gaultier’s Tombeau de
Mezangeau (1638). For example, Vendrix has suggested that the tombeau
may have been inspired by John Dowland’s air “Flow My Tears,” since a number
of tombeaux, including Gaultier’s, begin with figures outlining a falling
fourth; however, the resemblance of the latter themes to Dowland’s is not
convincing.
Francois Dufaut (d. after 1665) was one of the leading innovators in the
development of a new style of lute music in the 1630s. His Tombeau de Monsieur
Blancrocher (1652) may furnish substantial clues as to the origins of the
tombeau. The theme on which it is based so closely resembles the head
motive of Anthony Holborne’s pavan The Countess of Pembroke’s Funerall (published
in 1599, but possibly datable to 1586) that it seems likely that Dufaut’s
theme is a quote. Almost every note of the upper parts of the piece
comes from the theme or permutations of it, a feature unique in French lute
music. The intensity of this treatment suggests that is has extra-musical
significance. Dufaut’s tombeau further resembles Holborne’s pavan in
its use of repeated notes in the bass suggesting “tolling bells” (also found
in Froberger’s Tombeau de Monsieur Blancrocher), and its choice of key (G
minor). Anthony Rooley has recently demonstrated the pivotal importance of
Holborne’s work in establishing the pavan as a commemorative piece in England.
The appearance of pavannes d’ Angleterre in such French publications of lute
music as Anthonie Francisque’s Tresor d’Orphée (1600) suggests that
the singular characteristics of the English pavan were known in France in
the early decades of the seventeenth century. Thus Dufaut, and perhaps
Gaultier and others, may have been inspired by English commemorative
pavan to create a French equivalent.
TUNING AND TEMPERAMENT IN THE WORKS OF MARIN MERSENNE
Elisabeth Honn, Oberlin College
Indianapolis, Indiana
From the time of Fétis, the writings of Mann Mersenne have been described
as a hodgepodge of contradictory observations and theories. I believe,
however, that by presenting disparate views, Mersenne is attempting to reconcile
humanist musical thought with scientific musical inquiry. To support
my claim of a synthesis in Mersenne’s later musical thought, I examine his
writings on tuning and temperament to determine how a humanist construction
of intonation in an earlier writing may either be reinterpreted or combined
with a scientific discovery in a later work. Mersenne did not advocate
one standard tuning, which seems odd at a time when musicians sought to standardize
intonation and scientists attempted to rationalize tuning. Yet seen
as a connection between sixteenth- and seventeenth-century thought, this
acceptance of multiple systems displays rational purpose on Mersenne’s part
rather than injudicious loquacity. The treatment of tuning and temperament
in his treatises, especially the Harmonie universelle, is widely acknowledged
to be of great importance: his chaotic writing aside, Mersenne is regarded
as one of the important figures in the evolution of modern tuning.
Yet, his writings on tuning, temperament, and intonation have never been
completely translated, nor even collected together. They remain scattered
throughout his treatises, isolated descriptions cataloging a fantastic variety
of tuning systems and new instruments designed to realize them. This paper
will collate Mersenne’s propositions for just intonation, meantone temperament,
and equally tempered tuning with the purpose of demonstrating how his changing
views on intonation reflect his dual role of humanist scholar and scientific
inquirer. Mersenne believed, for example, that tuning systems and the
differing intervals produced by meantone temperament, just intonation, and
equal temperament each produce unique resonance’s in the mind, a humanist
construction. In the Harmonie universelle, Mersenne attempts to locate
scientific proof for this assertion to further his claims that music is a
rational art. His preoccupation with the effects of the distance between
scale steps represents a manifestation of his reliance on humanist, neo-Platonic
philosophy. He couples this, however, with a mechanistic viewpoint
to draw a connection between ancient and modern theory. An illustration of
this is his attempt to link the Greek harmony of the spheres with the scientific
seventeenth-century view of musical harmony. Mersenne did not
believe that musica mundana produced perceptible music, but that the motion
and relation of the celestial bodies was instead an analog to the intervals
of a well-tempered scale. Thus, a philosophical view is reconciled to a scientific
proposition
GIOVANNI ANTONIO RIGATTI’S MESSA E SALMI,
PARTE CONCERTATI (1640) AND THE
SELVA MORALE E SPIRITUALE (1640/41) OF CLAUDIO MONTEVERDI
Linda Maria Koldau
Rheinische Friedrich Wilhelms-Universität
Bonn, Germany
Shortly before his death, Monteverdi compiled a collection of sacred music
which may be seen as a summa of his sacred works composed during his service
as maestro di capella at St. Mark’s in Venice. In the same
year, another Venetian composer, born the year Monteverdi came to Venice,
published a print virtually unknown today that he may have conceived as a
counterpart to the Selva morale e spirituale. Rigatti’s Messa e salmi,
parte concertati (1640) bears striking resemblance to Monteverdi’s
print, and it may be seen both as an emulation of the elder’s works and as
a self-conscious statement of Rigatti’s own achievements
in the modern concertato style. In this paper the common
aspects of both collections as well as their differences will be discussed.
Large-scale concertato settings, sectional organization,
recurring refrains, elements of the Selva morale, bear closer resemblance
to the compositional procedures of the ’10s and ’20s and have no counterpart
in Rigatti’s print. Both collections were printed in 1640 by
Magni and are dedicated to the highest members of the imperial family in
Vienna. Both composers provide multiple settings of the standard Vesper
psalms (multiple settings of individual psalms are rare in the 17th-century
prints of Vesper music), yet Rigatti’s greater predilection for small-scale
ostinato compositions reveals an emphasis on a North Italian concertato idiom
which will become common practice only after Monteverdi’s death. The
character of this new idiom will be demonstrated by a closer examination
of Rigatti’s “Nisi Dominus a 3 voci et 2 violini”: the continual vocal-instrumental
flow of this salmo arioso, its sensual sonority, and the ceaseless return
of the tetrachord ostinato contribute to a highly unified character of the
extensive setting. Rather than translating the textual contrasts
into music, as had become typical of the concertato settings
of this psalm in the 1620s and 1630s, Rigatti turns the text into an intense
adoration of divine “dulcedo.” Thus, his setting demonstrates
that the new, popular aria idiom is well capable of reflecting current religious
concepts: the sensual musical flow appears as a literal translation of the
ecstatic outpourings of Seicento mystical literature.
The results presented in this paper are part of the research done for a modern
edition of Giovanni Antonio Rigatti’s Messa e salmi, concertati, op. 4 (1639),
(Middleton: A-R Editions, 2001).
THE HARPSICHORD IN SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY FRANCE
John Koster
America’s Shrine to Music Museum
University of South Dakota
Vermillion, South Dakota
French harpsichord culture during this period is particularly significant
because it includes both the invention of the “expressive” two-manual harpsichord
and the rise of a school of harpsichordists whose compositions skillfully
exploited the capabilities of the instrument. Nevertheless, sevententh-century
French harpsichords have received scant attention in standard histories of
the instrument, largely because of a dearth, until recently, of known surviving
examples.
Documents provide information about instruments in use before the earliest
dated examples from the middle of the century. Sixteenth-century sources
suggest that small virginals predominated. The earliest clear evidence
of a harpsichord per se is from 1600, a clavesin belonging to Pierre Chabanceau
de La barre I. In 1617, the organist J. Lescecq owned two harpsichords,
each with two stops. In Jean Jacquet’s workshop in 1632 there were
two harpsichords, one with a single set of strings; the other, with 100 strings,
presumably had two registers and a keyboard compass of 50 notes, probably
GG/BB to c’’’, a small downward ex-tension of the C, D, to C’’’ compass found
in French organs of the period. Thus, the bass compass was significantly
fuller than in Flemish and Italian harpsichords of the period, typically
with C/E short octaves.
The most voluminous French source of information about harpsichords
before the 1640s is Mann Mersenne’s Harmonie Universelle (1636-7), but this
must be used with caution since he indiscriminately describes both the commonplace
and the unusual. His main description of the harpsichord is illustrated
by a realistic engraving of a single-manual instrument, presumably a typical
Parisian harpsichord of the period. The instrument has characteristics of
the early northern-European “international” style of harpsichord making prevalent
in Germany, England, and pre-Ruckers Antwerp. Consistent with harpsichords
in the Lescecq and Jacquet inventories, it has a two-register (8’ + 4’) dis-position
and a 50-note compass.
Approximately 35 extent 17th-century French harpsichords are known.
Most of these have been discovered recently, and few have been described
in detail. The earliest signed and dated example (in the Musee de l’Hospice
Saint-Roch, Issoudun) was made by Jean Denis II, Paris, 1648. It has two
keyboards, GG/BB to c’’’, with three stops, 8’ + 4,’ on the lower manual,
8’ on the upper, and a shove coupler. It could be regarded as a combination
of two typical single-manual harpsichords, one,
like Mersenne’s, disposed 8’+ 4’, the other with only a single 8’ stop, like
the single-strung harpsichord in the Jacquet inventory of 1632. This
view corresponds to the description, written in 1648 by Pierre Chabanceau
de La Barre III, of a new type of harpsichord “with two manuals... (which)
make different strings sound from each keyboard; . . . they are two harpsichords
joined together.” The maker Jean Denis, in his Traité de l’accord
de l’espinette (2nd ed., Paris 1650), mentions the use of such harpsichords
“ for passing all the unisons,” that is to play pièces croisées,
the earliest extant examples of which were written about this time by Louis
Couperin.
Although some earlier writers have speculated that 17th- century French harpsichords
commonly had only a solo 4’ stop on the upper manual, well preserved examples
invariably have the disposition found in the 1648 Denis. only a few
17th- century French single-manual harpsichords are known. Generally,
as in an instrument by Nicolas Dufour, Paris, 1683 (in the Shrine to Music
Museum), they are disposed 8’ + 8’. The more substantial tone provided
by this disposition, might reflect increased use of the harpsichord for basso
continuo.
While some harpsichords with expanded compasses, such as GG, AA to c’’’,
began to be made shortly before 1700, the GG/BB to C’’’ compass was commonly
made as late as the 1690s. The keyboards and actions of the 17th-century
French harpsichords are especially elegant. Keys are quite small, with
a narrow octave span allowing a normal-size hand to span the interval of
a tenth, as is necessary for certain compositions of the period, including
Jean Denis’s Prelude pour sonder si l’Accord est bon par tout.
Although among the extant instruments there is a great degree of uniformity
in dispositions and in details of the keyboards in actions, other features
of design and construction vary considerably. More than one pitch level seems
to have been in use, and some instruments might have been designed for a
pitch above a’=440 hz. No chronological progression is apparent in
case shape, construction, materials, scaling, or other technical characteristics.
Nor are the origins of French harpsichord making to be seen as the result
of Italian or Flemish influence. Rather, the French school seems to
be the natural outgrowth of the 16th-century international style.
Flemish harpsichords were used in France as early as the 1640s.
Toward the end of the century, as indicated by a harpsichord made in 1688
by Michel Richard but provided with a false Hans Ruckers rose and date 1613
(in the Yale Collection) , Ruckers harpsichords were beginning to influence
some French makers. Although the Ruckers style of scaling, case construction,
and soundboard design became dominant in the 18th century, important aspects
of the native style, particularly the disposition and the design of the keyboards
and action, were never abandoned.
THE THIRD WAY: SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY HARPSICHORD BUILDING
OUTSIDE OF ITALY AND FLANDERS
Edward L. Kottick University of Iowa
Iowa City, Iowa
One of the important contributions of post-war harpsichord scholars such
as Raymond Russell and Frank Hubbard was the conceptualization of the regional
character of European string-keyboard building. For almost 50
years now, it has been customary to link local harpsichord-building traditions
either to the Northern school, encompassing Flanders, France, England, Central
and Northern Germany and Scandinavia; or the Southern School, composed mainly
of Italy.
But just as Ptolemy’s employment of eccentrics and epicycles to explain the
variations of the orbits of the planets eventually weakened his cosmology,
so the neat fabric of the thesis of two harpsichord-building orbits began
to unravel when seventeenth-century French, South-German, and English instruments
were considered. Neither fully Northern nor Southern, the harpsichords
of these regions came to be regarded as hybrids, or Northerners with
Southern accents. However, as more of these exemplars have been uncovered
and their characteristics better understood, it has become clear that seventeenth-century
harpsichords from these regions (such as the Shrine to Music Museum’s 1683
instrument by Nicolas Dufour) were neither Northern or Southern, but represented
variations of a separate and independent International style. Although the
existence of this “third way” has been known for some time, it has never
been adequately described.
Accordingly, this paper will establish the characteristics of the International
style by examining the salient features of seventeenth-century French, German,
and English harpsichords. Comparisons will also be made between these instruments
and those of the next century.
RECONSTRUCTING THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY TRANSVERSE FLUTE
AND ITS MUSIC
Mary Oleskiewicz
America’s Shrine to Music Museum
University of South Dakota
Vermillion, South Dakota
The one-keyed conical instruments of the Hotteterre family and the repertory
associated with them dominate our image of the late-Baroque transverse flute
as it developed from an earlier keyless, cylindrical instrument. Recent studies
have begun to question the traditional view that the Hotteterre workshop
was responsible for the transformation of the flute from “Renaissance” to
“Baroque,” but so far little concrete information has been offered.
This paper reexamines present views of Baroque flute development, and considers
the evidence for instruments that have been identified as a “Renaissance”
type and the ones fashionable at the beginning of the eighteenth century.
It also examines the putative repertory of the seventeenth-century
transverse flute.
The “Hotteterre flute” paradigm is based primarily on our understanding of
the appearance and repertory of the flute in the period ca. 1700, when the
first parts explicitly for the transverse flute appeared in print.
Particularly influential for the modern view of the earliest conical keyed
flutes and their music have been La Barre’s Pieces pour la flute traversiere
of 1702 and the frontispiece to Jacques-Martin Hotteterre’s (1674-1763) treatise
Principles of the Flute, Recorder & Oboe (1707). Other icongraphic
sources, such as the famous group portrait of five French musicians in the
British National Gallery from ca. 1707 (formerly attributed to Tournières,
recently assigned to Antoine Beuys), have also had a major impact on our
perception of the late 17th-century flute. These images depict three-piece
conical instruments of boxwood or ivory, with six toneholes, a single key,
large, decorative caps, and double ferrules. Moreover, they are
shown being played by privileged wigged gentlemen in elegant French attire.
Such evidence points to the conclusion that by the time of Hotteterre’s rudirnentary
treatise and La Barre’s first published solos for the flute, the instrument
had already become the domain of wealthy amateurs, undoubtedly the targeted
consumers of publications and of specially commissioned elegant, ornate instruments.
Based on iconographic evidence, the contemporary instrument maker Marc Ecochard
had proposed an hautbois design that might have been used by Lully’s players
from 1670, that is, an instrument transitional between the shawm and the
oboes used at the end of the century. Other woodwind instruments may
have had similar transitional versions, and indeed there is considerable
evidence concerning transverse flutes pre-dating those depicted at the turn
of the eighteenth century.
But although references to the transverse flute in writings about earlier
Baroque music are numerous, very few instruments have survived and music
specifically calling for them is rare. Most modern studies have focused on
seventeenth-century developments as antecedents for the eighteenth-century
flute, rather than examine the earlier instruments in their own right.
The earliest surviving three-piece conical flute may be the sole extant instrument
of this type by the Dutch maker Richard Haka (1646-1705), a one-keyed instrument
that challenges our stereotype of the late 17th-century flute. The
Haka flute, which I have recently played and examined, is part of the Ehrenfeld
collection (Utrecht) It is in beautiful condition but poses an
enigma because it matches neither the elaborate profile of the Hottteterre
flute nor its pitch. The Haka flute is clearly the product of mature
tradition, albeit one that did not receive the self promotion of Hotteterre’s.
A one-keyed flute by Lissieu (Kunsthistorischesmuseum, Vienna) possesses
a profile and certain other features similar to the Haka, but its bore is
cylindrical. Both instruments perhaps form links between the eighteenth-century
flute and the key- less instrument which Marin Mersenne described in 1636
as “one of the best flutes in the world.” Although no exemplar of the latter
type of instrument survives, it evidently represented the ideal transverse
flute for at least one early-Baroque writer; its properties can be provisionally
reconstructed from Mersenne’s account.
I will conclude by considering possible associations between the types of
flutes mentioned above and specific repertory from 17th- and early 18th-century
France, including the earliest publications by Marais, La Barre, and
Hotteterre, which began to appear in increasing numbers from 1692.
I will also examine La Barre’s trio of 1707 (whose printed edition is depicted
in the Beuys group portrait) as well as clues from flute parts by Lully and
Charpentier.
CLEFFING IN ENGLISH MUSIC ca. 1575-1650
Jessie Ann Owens
Brandeis University
Waltham, Massachusetts
In continental vocal music of the sixteenth centuries, the composer’s choice
between low (clc3c4F4) and high (g2c2c3F3) clef combinations can mark a distinction
between authentic and plagal modes, offering a short-hand method of indicating
the notated ambitus of each part; it may also relate to issues of transposition.
In England the situation is different in some respects. For one thing,
after the cessation of public Catholic ritual in the 1550s, there seems to
have been virtually no functioning theory or practice of mode.
Second, although Morley himself explained the two standard continental combinations
of clefs, there seems to be in reality a much wider variety in choice of
clefs in England than on the continent.
Most scholars, including especially David Wulstan, have taken cleffing in
England to be solely an indication of transposition. In recent years,
however, some scholars, notably Philip Brett, have issued challenges to Wulstan’s
clef code theory, partly on the grounds that the theory is intrinsically
illogical and impractical, and partly on the basis of the evidence of surviving
sources. To my knowledge, however, no one has attempted to bring to
bear on this problem the evidence culled from a systematic exploration of
cleffing in English music. As part of a larger study of tonal structures,
I propose to investigate cleffing practices by examining the complete surviving
repertory of music published in partbooks in England from about 1575 to about
1650 (I am deliberately excluding the lutesong repertory).
The investigation should reveal practices of individual
composers as well as the methods of ordering within printed collections,
and contribute to our understanding of differences between
England and the continent.
THE INSTRUMENT AND ITS REPERTORY:
A LECTURE-RECITAL (WITH OPTIONAL DISCUSSION)
David Schulenberg
Vermillion, South Dakota
That an “original” instrument should be essential for producing an “authentic”
reconstruction of historical performance practice has been commonly assumed
by students of both organology and performance practice. Yet antique
instruments can tell us only as much as their state of preservation and restoration
permit, and accounts of historical performance techniques are notoriously
ambiguous and incomplete. Performers and audiences alike frequently
perceive a particular novelty in the experience of hearing music played on
what is thought to be an instrument from the composer’s approximate time
and place, but how and to what extent this subjective impression reflects
an objective addition to the understanding of early music remains debatable
on both theoretical and practical bases.
The object of this presentation is not to settle the fundamental questions
posed above, but rather to raise them specifically in regard to a recital
of seventeenth-century keyboard works, performed on what might be regarded
today as a historically appropriate instrument in the collection of America’s
Shrine to Music Museum. I will summarize the philosophical and
theoretical issues and briefly describe the instrument in question: the Italian
harpsichord of ca. 1662-82 attributed to Giacomo Ridolfi. Through my
residency at the Museum during the 1999-2000 academic year I will have gained
an intimate familiarity with this as well as a number of other seventeenth-century
instruments in the collections, and I will be able to point out specific
aspects of each of the following musical compositions that make the latter
appear to be either particularly suitable or, on the other hand, problematical
for performance on each of these instruments or similar ones. The works,
which I will then perform, are drawn from the Italian and the Italianate
Iberian and German repertories of the mid- to late seventeenth century.
Luigi Rossi (1598-1653), Passacaille [in a] from
GB-Lbl Add. MS 39569
Michelangelo Rossi (ca. 1602-1656), Toccata I [in C] (Rome,
by 1638?)
Bernardo Pasquini (1637-1710), Basso Continuo [Sonata I
in D] from GB-Lbl Add. MS 31501/1
Juan Bautista Jose Cabanilles (1644-1712), Tiento [XXIII]
[in a], Pasacallas [II] [in d]
Johann Jacob Froberger (1616-67), Toccata [XVIII] [in F]
Matthias Weckmann (ca. 1620-1674), [Suite in d] from Luneberg
KN 147,
Allemande, Courant, Sarabanda, Gigue
Johann Phillip Kneger (1649-1725) Passagaglia [in d]
The repertory has been chosen not only for its apparent suitability to this
instrument but for its relevance to recent scholarly work in the field of
seventeenth-century music. The opening and closing works are important documents
for the history of the passacaglia, recently surveyed in the Journal of Seventeenth-Century
Music by Alexander Silbiger (in addition, the Krieger work shows significant
and hitherto unnoticed parallels to a famous passacaille by Telemann).
The set of pasacalles by Cabanilles represents a related Iberian genre. The
partimento sonata by Pasquini relates to my own recent article on the subject
in the same journal, and the chronology and textural transmission of the
works by M.A. Rossi and Froberger have been subjects of ongoing research
by Silbiger and Akira Ishii. In addition, the series of toccatas, tiento,
and sonata represents a coherent tradition emanating from Italy and therefore
generally assumed to be appropriate to the instrument chosen; the suite belongs
to a genre usually associated with France but represented in the Italian
tradition as well and therefore also potentially appropriate to this type
of instrument.
TERPSICHORE’S HARP AND THE TEMPTATION OF ST. JEROME:
HARPS, GENDER, HISPANIC MUSIC AND SOCIETY
Louise K. Stein, University of Michigan
Ann Arbor, Michigan
As is well known, depictions of the harp as a practical musical instrument
in the Renaissance place the instrument and its players in many contexts,
but most especially in courtly surroundings. The harp was generally
used as a soft instrument - it formed part of the basse musique, for example,
at the Court of the Duke of Burgundy, whose musical establishment was taken
as a model for many other courts, and whose musical practices were emulated
as well. The court composer Giles Binchois, known especially for his
delicate and intricate chansons, is depicted with a harp in a famous drawing
(from a manuscript of Martin le Franc’s poem Les champion des dames). In
another image from Les champion des dames the harp is among the instruments
both loud and soft, played by the nine Muses. It is played by Terpsichore,
muse of the dance (rather than by the muse of epic songs, for example). While
carefully selected early Renaissance images might leave us with the impression
that the harp was forever destined to remain a soft instrument associated
with delicate lyrics and even female, non-professional players, the harp’s
musical function, social status, and mythical associations were of course
both broad and diverse.
This paper will take a careful look at the changing iconography of the harp
around 1600 and the gendered associations that tended to shape the iconography
of this instrument during the seventeenth century, especially in Spain and
the Spanish colonies in Latin America. As harps grew in size, weight,
compass, and strength of tone, the allegorical and the social status of the
instrument took on a new and more masculine imagery, so that by the early
seventeenth century the harp was the “instrument of Princes,” a perfect instrument
capable of producing a polyphonic accompaniment to all kinds of song, both
sacred and profane. The weighty legitimacy of King David as harpist of the
Counter-Reformation, and of Apollo as the superior musical deity of Renaissance
humanism both influenced this change in imagery toward a predominantly male
and well-dressed harper. On the other hand, feminine and angel harpists
appear in genre paintings of certain religious scenes (the harps they carried
were “realistic” or just decoratively allegorical).
Within the musical culture of the Hispanic dominions, two further associations
seem to have been important in the seventeenth century. In the
famous painting by Francisco Zurbaran of the Temptation of St. Jerome, a
contemporary harp
is played by a lovely young girl; one of a serious and placid group of six
female musicians who visit St. Jerome to tempt him. Though the girls
may seem not only modest but without artifice, the Saint immediately throws
up his hands in an exclamation of horror. Though the imagery of the
painting is far removed in almost every way from the nine Muses with musical
instruments offered in the early Renaissance drawing from the Martin le Franc
manuscript, the earlier association of the harp with the muse Terpsichore
bears considerable relevance to my interpretation of the Zurbaran painting,
in light of other Spanish paintings on the same subject. The
painting has important things to tell us about the harp, its music, and its
17th-century Hispanic context, such that this analysis is the focus of my
paper.
SO IST DENN DIES DER TAG: THE ERBHULDIGUNG OF
PRINCE ELECTOR CARL HEINRICH OF MAINZ
Kathryn Welter
Wayland, Massachusetts
The documents recording the Erbhuldigung, or ceremony of homage, to
the newly-appointed Prince Elector, Carl Heinrich of Mainz, in Erfurt in
1679 provide an important historical description of civic ceremony, give
clues to musical performance practice, and provide evidence of what may be
the first recorded composition of Johann Pachelbel.
Since medieval times, Erfurt’s city council was under the sovereign rule
of the Elect bishopric of Mainz, and the appointment of a new Prince
Elector required a fitting occasion duly to celebrate the new leader. The
Predigerkirche (Preacher’s Church) was the main Protestant church of the
city by virtue of its designation as the Ratskirche, or church of the city
council. In his first year as organist at the Predigerkirche, Johann
Pachelbel was selected for the prestigious honor of composing for the Erbhuldigung.
The external documents describing the event include speeches, descriptions
of the event, two engraved prints showing the indoor and outdoor ceremonies,
and the texts and music to two songs of homage, both by Johann Pachelbel.
The festive trumpet aria, “So ist denn dies der Tag” is one of Pachelbel’s
earliest autograph copies, and features solo voice, chorus, trumpets; timpani,
and string accompaniment.
This paper examines the iconographical evidence of the event, both pictorial
and descriptive, to understand better the nature of such a civic ceremony
and the musical performance practice required for such celebrations.
In addition, it places the Pachelbel arias in the context of a mid-seventeenth-century
German song tradition characterized particularly by a group of Nuremberg
composers, including Erasmus Kindermann, Paul Hainlein, Johann Krieger, Johann
Philipp Krieger, and Johann Löhner. The use of concertato style,
instrumentally conceived melodies, and simple
harmonies evident in the Erbhuldigung arias can be seen in Pachelbel’s greater
body of aria compositions as well.
SEXLESS SPIRITS?: GENDER IDEOLOGY IN SCENES OF MAGIC
ON THE RESTORATION STAGE
Amanda Eubanks Winkler, University of Michigan
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Scenes of magical spectacle provided an excuse for music on the Restoration
stage. Music was considered magical and, according to the writings
of neoplatonists, a tool with which the adept could Conjure spirits.
John Dryden, one of the most important playwrights of this era, wrote many
such incantation scenes, allowing scholars to identify musical and dramatic
conventions. In spite of the abundance of available source materials,
one aspect of these scenes has been consistently misread or ignored by modern
critics: the issue of gender.
The misinterpretation or elision of this critical issue is exacerbated by
Dryden’ own statements. Dryden claimed that spirits were sexless in
a polemical response to his rival Elkanah Settle’s The Empress of Morocco
(“it is non sense to say Woman-Spirits, as if spirits had sexes”).
Critics have quoted this statement out of context, using it as a justification
for ignoring gender issues, or sometimes, deploying it to support the claim
that Dryden’s spirits were indeed gender “neutral” (Price 1984). In
fact, Dryden did not practice what he preached. Dryden and the composers
who set the music for the spirits were completely inculcated in a patriarchal
gender system, in which female voices were suited for seduction or persuasion,
and male voices were suited for the description of supernatural warfare or
making noble proclamations.
Using examples from John Dryden’s Tyrannick Love (1672 and 1694), King Arthur
(1691), The Indian Emperour (1691) and The Indian Queen (1695), this paper
demonstrates how the texts, the performers chosen for the roles, and the
music contain these spirits within “appropriate” gender categories.
For example, Henry Purcell composed the pivotal role of the God of Dreams
in The Indian Queen for a boy soprano, Jemmy Bowen. This casting allowed
Purcell to mark the God as otherworldly (a treble voice emanating from a
male deity) without placing a woman in this powerful masculine role.
On the other hand, in King Arthur an actress played the role of Philidel.
While Philidel was generally referred to with masculine pronouns, he was
completely feminized by his rival, the evil Grimbald, who described him as
“a pueling Sprite” whose “Make is flitting, soft, and yielding Atomes.” Given
this “effeminate” description, it would have been extremely difficult for
a Restoration audience to accept a man in the role of Philidel. Reaffirming
Restoration ideas about the seductive qualities of the female voice, Philidel’s
musical and dramatic role in King Arthur is primarily one of persuasion,
as “he” successfully convinces Arthur to take the correct path. A more misogynist
example of the power of the female voice is found in Tyrannick Love. Although
both Nakar (a male spirit) and Damilcar (his female counterpart) are summoned,
it is Damilcar who sings a siren song designed to seduce St. Catharine from
her vow of chastity. Purcell assigns Damilcar musical conventions associated
with amorous or seductive music on the Restoration stage, such as the key
of G minor, chromaticism, melismas emphasizing the pleasures of love, and
pervasive repetition. Predictably, Damilicar is brought low by her impertinence,
reduced to cowering in a corner by St. Catharine’s guardian angel, Amariel,
and his “flaming Sword.” In all these cases, the music, text, and choice
of performer work together to reaffirm a binary gender system. Even
spirits cannot escape the patriarchal assumptions of Restoration gender ideology.
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