TODAY IN MUSIC: January 22, 1575 - TALLIS & BYRD GRANTED ONE OF ENGLAND’S PREMIER PRINTING & PUBLISHING PATENTS & A 21 YEAR MONOPOLY ON POLYPHONIC MUSIC

Thomas Tallis was a member of The Chapel Royal and would serve the Tudor
Dynasty as Organist and Composer over the course of four reigning Monarchs.

January 22 is a most significant day in music for England. It was on this day in 1575 that composers and organists to the court of Queen Elizabeth I, Thomas Tallis (a long-time musician to the court of England, having served three Tudor monarchs before Elizabeth: Henry VIII, his protestant son, King Edward VI, and half-sister to Elizabeth and Edward - Queen Mary I, respectively), and Tallis’ most beloved pupil, one William Byrd, would make English history with the exclusive rights to not only print and publish the polyphonic music of which they had just been granted a 21 year monopoly, but also the right to enforce the strict prohibition of sales of any “songs made and printed in any foreen countrie(s)” in a game-changing attempt at introducing to the world - and seeking dominance in it - the English repertoire among the masses, taking full advantage of the newly improved printing press.

Tallis and Byrd, both favorites of the Queen would be made able, thanks to the patent granted them by Elizabeth, to compose and print music to be used in the church in many of the popular tongues of the period, including English, Latin, French and Italian. Even further. the musical duo were the only composers permitted to use the paper on which music was printed!

William Byrd was once a star pupil of Tallis.

These grants came at an interesting time in British History. By the time Tallis and Byrd had received oligopoly over polyphonic music in 1575, England was already well into the throes of Religious Reform. Elizabeth had already sat some 17 years on a throne which had seen varied states of religious upheavals, revolts and reversals in her predecessors Tudor. Her notoriously fickle father Henry VIII had been the major catalyst behind the secular divide of Catholics and Protestants when he, following his infamous break from the church of Rome some two decades prior in order to legally divorce his wife and reigning Queen Catherine of Aragon and marry protestant Anne Boleyn in her stead), chose to set into motion the Act of Supremacy in 1534 in which he declared himself to be the ‘Supreme Head on earth of the Church of England’. With the advent of Martin Luther and his translated biblical texts into English, Europe - already on the brink of a series of religious civil wars across the continent - armed with this new, powerful public backing from an otherwise formerly neutral world leader, would find it’s citizens re-ignited by the already flickering spark of revolutionary spirit.
 
Protestants and Catholics alike would endure extremely violent, dogmatic reigns under the Tudor dynasty, reigns that would include instated Queen’s heads rolling off the chopping block, to executed ministers, archbishops and common reformists alike. Catholic churches would see themselves whitewashed and stripped of ornamentations in both ‘décor’ (icons) and in liturgical service (music; the ‘making of the cross’ on one’s chest) and replaced with the relatively conservative services of the Protestants, only to be violently undone and to have all ornamentations restored under the conditions of Catholicism during the reign of Mary I just prior to Elizabeth’s accession to the throne.

Music went through much change as the denominations of Christianity rapidly fluctuated, and, under Elizabeth, Tallis - who had been a constant at the Tudor court over the course of three monarchs and now on his fourth - would adjust the music of the Chapel Royal accordingly:

during the periods of Catholic flourishment, the highly ornamental and embellished polyphonic music consisted of rich and elaborate harmonies sung by multiple voices reminiscent of the music of the Renaissance era, while during the Protestant rise and wane, the rich and elaborate would be replaced by the softer, muter, more simple practices of singing with only ‘one syllable per note’ (as envisioned by one archbishop Cranmer), with emphasis placed less on aesthetic structure and more on the transparency of the texts that accompanied the compositions themselves (elaborate ornamentations being considered too 'Popish' for Protestant ears).

Elizabeth I as she would have appeared
in 1575, pictured here in the so-called
"Pelican Portrait" by painter
Nicholas Hilliard.

Elizabeth, having previously bore witness to the divide amongst the subjects of both herself and her predecessors, sought a more neutral approach in religion and it’s use of music, seeking to placate zealots on both sides of the religious divide by instituting her own Act of Uniformity in 1559, which included the 'Ornaments Rubric' clause: the ultimate royal show of religious compromise which would allow the Queen to retain for the Church of England traditional Catholic ceremonies, such as the ‘making of the cross’ at baptisms, and the adornment of the surplice and the cope amongst the clergy, while the doctrine of the Church itself would remain Protestant in nature. Accordingly, she would adjust, through her grant bestowed upon Tallis and Byrd in 1575, the rich polyphonic music of the old (Catholic) church with the new, more simple sound of the protestant choir, creating a uniquely English hybrid of vocal repertoire that, while initially facing public scorn via the religious fanatics of the ever-tumultuous period, would introduce into Europe a ‘Golden Age’ of Elizabethan music – one that continues to astound and astonish audiences around the globe to this day.

Listen below to two of the thirty-four motets composed by Thomas Tallis and William Byrd from the Cantiones quae ab argumento sacrae vocantur – a collection of compositions dedicated to Elizabeth's 17th year on the throne of England (accordingly, each composer contributed 17 pieces each to the mammoth work to represent each year of their beloved Queen's Reign), and in thanks for granting them the Printing Patent in 1575. This collection was the collective composer’s first work under the Monopoly.

#26, In Jejunio Et Fletu (in Fasting and Weeping) by Thomas Tallis:


#12, O Lux, Beata Trinitas (O Trinity of Blessed Light) by William Byrd:


- Rose.

IN MEMORIAM: QUEEN ELIZABETH II (APRIL 21, 1926 - SEPTEMBER 8, 2022)

 

Above: a touching tribute to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II by Sky News 

As millions of Britons, citizens of the Commonwealth, and others around the globe mourn the loss of Elizabeth II, I have come to reflect upon my former Head of State with a sense of bittersweet splendour - pained that Her Majesty is no longer with us, yet, altogether marveled by the memories of her glorious reign, stamina, and poise. 

For as long as I have lived, Queen Elizabeth II has been somewhat omnipresent in my life. I fancied myself quite the numismatist and philatelist in my most tender years - I am a citizen born into the commonwealth twice over: as a Canadian by birth, and as the daughter of an immigrant from the then-commonwealth state of Hong Kong. 

It was during these formative years that my young mind became fascinated by the striking portraits of our Head of State, ever evolving throughout those very impressionable phases of my own life: from youth, to teenagehood, to womanhood. I saw her increasingly aging visage everywhere throughout the years as my past times seamlessly moulded themselves into a deep passion for history - both Canadian, and British. 

It was the profile, and the face of Elizabeth, embossed on the faces of coins and printed on the surfaces of stamps from all over the world, that piqued my curiosity. I wanted to know more about this woman who seemed to dominate swathes of nations of varying tongues: who she was, and what she meant to my country and to our British cousins. That curiosity led me down the path of studying Canadian and European history, and later - and perhaps most naturally - to the music that helped pave the path toward our shared freedoms, as our ancestors fought in battle to create, in my humble opinion, one of - if not the - greatest nation in the world. As I became more embedded in my studies, I both marveled over and embraced the legacies of the composers who performed in battle long before Elizabeth's conception. I learned of the propagandists and musically inclined courtiers who so crucially and cleverly manipulated, supported, and volleyed their way through the upper echelons of the British state. In many ways, it was an early lesson in psychology and an invaluable teaching of the cunning use (and misuse) of music for purposes of political persuasion and domination.

Though Great Britain's distant past may be marred by undeniable bloodshed, where kings were made kings on the battlefield, and men became men through daring and chivalric conquests, the reign and life of Elizabeth was different. Having both served in, and survived the Second World War and having acceded to the throne whilst arguably still a child herself - at the tender age of 25 - her role was that of a peaceful monarch: a consistently present and poised ruler who never appeared to take for granted the rich (albeit often gritty) historical past which would end up making her unprecedented 70-year long reign possible. 

Her Majesty shunned the methods of her royal predecessors, opting instead to shy away from public conflict by holding close to her breast matters of both personal and political affairs. She put forward a mask of neutrality in an ever changing, not always friendly world. 

Music and musicians of (and associated with) the court became less thought of as mere political pawns but rather allowed to triumph in their own right: during her reign, the so-called 'Land without Music' - England's status as a musical mecca having waned in popularity since the triumphant days of the English Renaissance - once more became resplendent as the likes of Ralph Vaughan Williams, Arnold Bax, William Walton, and Edward Elgar introduced to a new generation a majestic, and regal shift from the ever embellished icons of English composers past (men like Thomas Tallis, William Byrd, Orlando Gibbons, Henry Purcell, and German-turned-naturalised citizen, George Frederic Handel). 

Full of fanfare, stateliness, pomp and circumstance, swathes of musicians (and even non-musicians) the world over would soon recognize the sound of British royalty in the new Elizabethan age, and envision in their minds images of the resplendent Queen in her chariot, as regal and dignified as the compositions which flourished throughout her reign.

Above: Vaughan Williams' grand ceremonial arrangement of the sixteenth-century hymn "The Old Hundredth", performed at the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, 2 June 1953 Westminster Abbey, London (preceded by fanfare)

To the very end, Her Majesty remained poised even throughout the dishonours inflicted upon her by those who attempted to corrupt a legacy of leadership - one in which our beloved Sovereign had managed to rule for some seven decades with a refined reticence. It was this sense of stoic disposition which had so notably garnered the admiration and awe of all those who met her, from world leaders to subjects alike. 

There is something to be said for this level of personal conviction. Throughout the numerous traumas Elizabeth faced, particularly over the course of the past several years, her stamina and resolve proved to all of those who supported her that silence speaks volumes, that privacy is a virtue, and that dignity over historical savagery and present day insolence will always triumph in the end. 

Her Majesty vowed to work until the end of her days, and she has honored her oath. Having seldom wavered from her steely-faced, yet gentle resolve, she will be remembered as a ruler of sound mind, a connoisseur of political adroitness, and as a woman of extraordinary courage, strength, and heart. 

With condolences to all those who mourn the loss of Her Majesty, including the working members of the Royal family. 

God Save the Queen. 

Long Live King Charles III.

See more: St Paul's Service of Thanksgiving to Honour the Queen

-Rose.

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MAYHEM BEHIND THE MUSIC X: TRIVIA & HUMOR - (LITERALLY) 'DECONSTRUCTING' MOZART & OTHER SALACIOUS SCANDALS feat. Did You Know?

It’s time for another installment of TRIVIA & HUMOR!

Today’s much overdue feature combines a veritable cornucopia of mystery, scandal and intrigue as Unraveling Musical Myths meanders through the murky mire of the macabre, resting every now and then to regale the reader with tales of mercurial madness – a frequently occurring trait we have come to know and love in our beloved maestros of yore.

“LOWLY” MUSICIAN STATUS SAVES COMPOSER’S NECK

Alleged likeness of Taverner

We begin in the mid-16th century in Tudor England, just prior to the Reformation with the composer and organist John Taverner. Considered to be one of the most important musical figures of his era, Taverner would be appointed First Organist and Master of the Choristers at Cardinal College* (named after it’s ecclesiastical founder and then-Lord Chancellor to Henry VIII, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey).

Taverner, like many an Englishman living under the notoriously volatile monarch’s reign, would find himself in a heap of trouble for allegedly possessing ‘heretical’ manuscripts – books by German theologian Martin Luther - on his person (and possibly stashed in the ‘song school,’ with the intent of teaching them to his pupils in the choir) for which the musician was promptly holed up in the college’s fish cellar (which then served as a makeshift prison until which time further punishment would be executed – pun intended). The word “allegedly” is important here – this was, after all, the most tumultuous period of Henry’s reign, during which time the King sought to have his marriage to his first wife, the Spanish Katherine of Aragon annulled in order to place future consort Queen Anne Boleyn in her stead – a notoriously rocky road for the monarch that saw a highly contested battle of power between the determined English king and Pope Clement VII, and, failing permission by the Holy See to divorce, an eventual break with Rome.

Cardinal Wolsey being counseled by King Henry VIII

Alongside his abrupt shift in power over religious matters of the State, the autocratic ruler installed himself as the Supreme Head of the Church of England, setting forth a tidal wave of reformist activity across the nation.

Accusations of heresy ran wild – whether the party was in fact guilty or an innocent offender (labeling another as a heretic was a quick and convenient way to rid oneself of their enemies in an age where one was considered guilty until proven.. well, guilty).

As it turns out, Taverner himself was a noted reformist. Perhaps armed with this knowledge, or simply having been all-too-aware of the further punishment that his appointee would have undoubtedly suffered if left to rot in the fish cellar, Wolsey neither confirmed nor denied the accusation lobbed on the imprisoned musician, and instead, appealed quite convincingly, to the jailors’ egos by diminishing Taverner’s influence over even the meekest of students, calling him “but a musician” (then equivalent to a servant). 

Apparently, it worked. Taverner would be promptly pardoned by the Cardinal.

Listen below to a gorgeous rendition of Taverner's Dum Tansisset Sabbatum (And When The Sabbath Was Past), Performed by Alamire choir under David Skinner:


*Note: now Christ Church College at Oxford

 

GUNPOWDER, FIRE…ATTEMPTED MURDER?

Talk about a premiere from hell: from the blazing inferno ravaging a large portion of a specially constructed structure funded out-of-pocket by the reigning British King (some £8000 - worth about 1 million in today’s money) and which claimed two lives, to the attempted murder of the Duke of Montagu by an enraged architect (and the latter’s unsurprising - yet highly mortifying - imprisonment), Composer of the Chapel Royal George Frederic Handel’s debut performance of his suite “Music for the Royal Fireworks” would go off with anything but a hitch. 

460TH ANNIVERSARY OF ELIZABETH I'S ACCESSION TO THE THRONE OF ENGLAND, AND A SHREWD QUEEN'S CUNNING USE OF 'MUSICKE' AS A POLITICAL TOOL

A recently discovered portrait of Elizabeth I,
c.1559, Unknown artist

Today marks the 460th anniversary of the Accession of Queen Elizabeth I to the throne of England following the death of Queen ("Bloody") Mary Tudor, Elizabeth's controversial half-sister on November 17, 1558.

The music of the Tudor court has been covered extensively on Unraveling Musical Myths, however in light of recent scientific and media attention toward the 16th century “Virgin Queen's” masterful manipulation of portraiture to influence heads of state, I wish to shift focus to "Gloriana's" use of music as a tool for spreading political propaganda.

This past June, BBC historian and art dealer Philip Mould discovered a hitherto unknown portrait of a diminutive Elizabeth on oak wood, (left) estimated to have been painted during the second year of her reign as Queen of England and Ireland in 1559 - potentially making it the earliest known portrait of the young queen as ruler of the British empire. 

The portrait depicts a youthful, softer side of the characteristically stern-jawed, resplendent likenesses of Hilliard, Segar and Gheeraerts that have become synonymous with the image of Elizabethan power and 16th century English dominance.

It would be followed by a series of likenesses of the Queen, both authentic and imagined, which would feature such feminine, girlish attributes: an increasingly expanding cherubic face, a direct forward facing gaze, a sly smile – demure characteristics Elizabeth would soon grow to detest. As such, authentic portraiture dating from the ruler's early reign – that is, portraiture for which Elizabeth actually sat – would increasingly fall into the category of rare commodities. The Queen is said to have destroyed in the fire portraiture she found unbefitting of the subliminal message of political prowess she sought to covey to her British subjects, and more importantly, to foreign heads of state.

*CLICK TO ENLARGE* Early portraits and likenesses of Elizabeth portrayed the young Queen in diminuitive form, much to the ruler's ire. The infamous "Rainbow portrait," seen on extreme right, bore all of the fruits of Tudor propaganda. Painted well into her rule, Elizabeth's wardrobe drips in symbolic excess - symbols are lifted from books of emblamatic morals: her cloak bears the eyes and ears of an all seeing, all knowing ruler, complimented by a serpent of wisdom which the Queen wears unabashedly on her sleeve, and there is the presence of a cestial armillary sphere, suggesting dominion in the heavens and on earth. This c. 1602 portrait attributed to Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger is the most heavily symbolic of Elizabeth's portraits.

Just as “Good Queen Bess” (just one of many nicknames attributed the Queen by her loyal subjects) would exert control over her image as she grew into her role as Ruler of England, becoming slimmer, grander, more symbolic (as seen in the famous Rainbow portrait by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger above right) and even allegorical (see Elizabeth I and the Three Goddesses, attr. Hans Eworth below)  Elizabeth would extend her propagandizing efforts through music – through intimate and public settings to unconsciously bring detractors into the Elizabethan fold and into England's dominant Protestant Church.

This 1569 allegorical portrait of Elizabeth triumphing over the goddesses Venus, Juno and Minerva belonged to the Queen herself. The portrait is especially bold, as it re-fashions the mythological tale of the beauty contest 'The Judgment of Paris," in which it is Venus who triumphs over her rivals Juno and Minerva. In this painting, attributed to Flemish artist Hans Eworth, the mythological triumvirate enter the realm of the living, whereupon they are defeated by Beauty's ultimate victor, Queen Elizabeth I of England. Presently in the collection of the Royal Collection Trust, this masterful oil work sits inside a frame that bears the contemporary description:  `IVNO POTENS SCEPTRIS ET MENTIS ACVMINE PALLAS / ET ROSEO VENERIS FVLGET IN ORE DECVS / ADFVIT ELIZABETH IVNO PERCVLSA REFVGIT OBSVPVIT PALLAS ERVBVITQ VENVS'. T ('Pallas was keen of brain, Juno was queen of might, / The rosy face of Venus was in beauty shining bright, / Elizabeth then came, And, overwhelmed, Queen Juno took flight: / Pallas was silenced: Venus blushed for shame'.

The Queen of England was known to have held 'intimate' meetings with foreign dignitaries in which discussion of political affairs were accompanied by music - performed by Elizabeth herself. Scottish Ambassador Sir James Melville famously listened to her performing on her virginal in her private chamber, remarking that he had been unknowingly entranced: “I heard such melody as ravished me, that I was drawn in e'er I knew how,” whilst the Duke of Bracciano Don Virginio Orcino felt himself a paladin – a foremost warrior at the court of the illustrious Charlemagne, after the Queen sang, danced and played for him on the lute. 

Elizabeth's private performances with the French Ambassador, Charles de Gontaut (for whom she danced in her private apartments) and with Baron Rabenstein (Breuner, the Imperial Ambassador to Ferdinand I, the Holy Roman Emperor) were even more intimate: with marriage negotiations for the Queen to wed the Emperor's son, the Archduke Charles of Austria at a frustrating standstill (and perceived by the Baron as an exercise in futility), Elizabeth hatched a cunning plan to woo back into her graces the frustrated Ambassador (who was set to leave court empty handed) with a private boat side serenade on the river, where Breuner was instructed to sit in the mighty Treasurer's seat – a shrewd move that succeeded in regaining the Baron's faith in a potential victory for Ferdinand through the clever use of power placement seating and through the 'intimate privilege' of a one-on-one, private performance. The Ambassador would in turn report back to Ferdinand, tempering the Emperor's ire with words not of failure, but rather of praise and of optimistic hope, allowing Elizabeth to maintain a sense of détente between the two powerful rulers through creating the illusion of ongoing negotiations.

The ploy of using music as both a negotiating and propagandizing tactic was ingenious: by mixing her 'body politic' with her 'body natural,' Elizabeth invoked the powers of feminine eroticism with the learned graces of music - a gift promoted through the teachings of Aristotle as an invaluable political tool. Elizabeth effortlessly interweaved this intellectual, poised allure with that of the all-encompassing power of 16th century advertisement: through the illusion of intimacy, and through music, the Queen could begin to establish trust in the foreign diplomats who frequently visited her court, who would, in turn, return home to their respective kingdoms with ravishing reports of a learned, skilled, erudite ruler – reports that would spread rapidly across Europe like an untamed wildfire.

The Queen did not limit the influence of music to personal performances, however. Courtiers and noblemen were wont to both pen lyrics and compose music in her honor for fear of losing her good grace, whilst tunes of grandeur and English revelry would accompany her garrison as she held processional tours – a perfect highlight to the grand entrance of a powerful ruler.

Elizabeth I gets a 21st century animatronic treatment. Using
advanced digital scanning and 3D printing, artist Mat Collishaw draws
upon known portraiture and literature concerning the 'Virgin Queen' in an
attempt to reveal the true face behind the highly propagandized likenesses
of the 16th century Queen. Visit BBC.com to watch this fascinating video.

At home base, the frequently rivaling religious factions in England were still brewing – Catholic England had lost their chief supporter through the demise of Mary I, and whilst Elizabeth issued a compromise of sorts through her 1559 Religious Settlement, which re-established the Church of England's independence from Rome through the first of two acts, The Act of Supremacy of 1558 and the re-establishment of the Book of Common Prayer through the second (Act of Uniformity of 1559) which attempted to blend aspects of both religions under one faith, the English peoples remained nonplussed. The Protestants felt the full breadth of their faith unfulfilled, whilst the Catholics believed the issuing of the Settlement to be entirely heretical: their faith submerged under the crushing weight of the increasingly popular Protestant ilk which would eventually grow into such a dominating force it would result in the modern Anglican Church.

The industrious Queen Elizabeth, who strongly leaned Protestant, played a large hand in forming the Anglican Church as its denomination knows it today – and she did it through the power and influence of music, and through her trusted Archbishop, Matthew Parker.

In 1567, the Archbishop of Canterbury, appointed by Elizabeth in accordance with her late mother Anne Boleyn's wishes (to keep watch on her only child) was assigned by the Queen the task of translating into English from Latin select entries from the Book of Psalms. For his part, Parker chose Psalms 1, 68, 2, 95, 42, 5, 52, 67 in addition to a 9th century hymn known as Veni Creator (Come, Holy Ghost, Eternal God) and commissioned court composer Thomas Tallis to set the translations to music.

Imagined likeness of Thomas Tallis. Elizabeth would grant the long tenured
court composer and his most prized pupil, the composer William Byrd
exclusive rights to print and publish polyphonic music, granting them a
21-year monopoly which included the right to enforce strict prohibition of
sales of any “songs made and printed in any foreen countrie(s)” in a
game-changing attempt at introducing to the world - and seeking dominance
in it -the English repertoire among the masses, taking full advantage of the
newly improved printing press. This was but just one example of Elizabeth's
savvy use of music as a tool for manipulating the status quo.

In doing so, Elizabeth was effectively challenging the liturgical practices of the Church as her subjects knew it, whilst influencing reform-minded Catholics to yield to the Protestant yolk. For 16th century English citizens, attendance at Church was mandatory – thus congregates who numbered themselves among the bodies lining fully manned pews were helpless but to both witness and partake in newfound tradition: the Nine Tunes for Parker's Psalter, as the Archbishop-Tallis collaboration would become known, would force the assembled congregation to sing – not simply orate – the poetic Psalms, and only in the English tongue.

It was this last stipulation that was of utmost importance to Protestant influencers, and Elizabeth was fully cognizant of this. By releasing the scripture from its formerly unintelligible tongue (most 16th century civilians could neither read, nor understand spoken Latin) and placing it under a visible spotlight where its words and meaning could be fully digested by all was an immensely clever way of attempting to establish a sole collective of congregates, who could find salvation through comprehension of the 'Word of God' - and, in effect, through the Protestant Church - effecting a potential victory by Elizabeth over the long held, acrimonious Wars of Religion that had for so long plagued the English State.


Listen below to the third of Nine Tunes for Parker's Psalter, “Why fum'th in sight” (Psalm 2) as performed by the Tallis Scholars. This piece would famously influence 20th century English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams to compose his much beloved Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. It would also become known as the “third mode melody.”



- Rose.

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