Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Tallis. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Tallis. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, 22 January 2016

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.


Friday, 24 March 2017

A MOST ROYAL COLLABORATION: 6TH WIFE OF KING HENRY VIII CATHERINE PARR NAMED LYRICIST FOR TALLIS’ ‘BATTLE PRAYER,’ SET TO DEBUT IN LONDON, IN ENGLISH, UNDER ORIGINAL AUTHORSHIP (LAST PERFORMED IN THE CITY MORE THAN 470 YEARS AGO) feat. Did You Know?

Tudor fans in London will be treated this Easter season with a historic performance in English of 16th century composer and Gentleman of the Chapel Royal Thomas Tallis’ “Gaude Gloriosa Dei Mater,” a so-called “prayer for battle” penned by the composer sometime after 1544 whilst in the service of King Henry VIII.

The English-language version of the nearly 5 century’s old composition was first brought to the attention of both musical and monarchial spheres in 1978, when the manuscript was discovered tucked inside of a cavity behind the plastered walls of Oxford’s Corpus Christi College. It has since undergone much scrutiny by scholars in regards to the date the music was written and for which English Monarch – King Henry VIII, or his daughter by Katherine of Aragon, Queen Mary Tudor. Researchers in favor of Mary cite the prevalence of like-Marian votive antiphons made popular during the Queen’s reign (a much frequented source of propaganda for the Monarch which conveniently contrasted both Mary’s - the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the exalted Queen Mary on earth – in the minds of loyal subjects; and a musical format of which composers living in Mary's time would often use to their advantage). Researchers in favor of Henry VIII note the unusual presence of an English text for the music – a practice most uncommon for such a composition – likening it to the newly protestant services mandated by the King’s son and future monarch, Edward VI. Supporters of this theory date the music to the late term of Henry VIII, and believe the work’s lyrics to have been translated from their original Latin into English just prior to the ascension of the royal heir.

Such has been the lyrical controversy for the past four decades – that is until very recently, when one eagle-eyed Cambridge scholar noticed a direct match between the text of Gaude Gloriosa Dei Mater and a particular psalm authored by English Queen Catherine Parr sometime in 1544. Parr’s ninth psalm “Agaynst enemies” was part of a larger work penned by the former Monarch during her marriage to King Henry VIII – a book of "Psalms or Prayers" which the Queen had published (as an English translation of a Latin devotional text penned by Catholic Saint John Fisher) in support of her royal husband’s highly contested campaign against the French.

Henry VIII's sixth (and final) wife, consort Queen of
England and Ireland Catherine Parr.
According to David Skinner, the director of music at Cambridge’s Sidney Sussex College (and the scholar who made the recent royal attribution), the King sought to rally English support and instill zeal, telling reporters

 “Henry wanted the people to rise up and ‘pray’ him into battle, as later that July he was to lead his armies at the Siege of Boulogne…”

But in order to accomplish such a feat, Henry would have to replace the use of traditional Latin litany and prayer – incomprehensible to most outside of the clergy – into a language that could be understood even by the “common man.” For this, it seems Henry would turn to his then-wife – ardent supporter of the King and skilled linguist Catherine Parr. The Queen certainly delivered – Parr’s translation of Fisher’s text is aptly described by Skinner as both “searing and wrathful… very much at odds with the original devotional nature of the Latin.”

He cites an example of Parr’s text:
“[C]ast them down hedlonge, for they are treatours & raybels agaynst me … let the wicked sinners returne in to hell”
Further lending support to Skinner’s conclusion of Royal authorship lay in the books’ penultimate and final prayers, entitled “A prayer for the King” and “A prayer for men to say going into battle,” both of which give credence to the notion that Gaude Gloriosa Dei Mater was indeed composed much prior to Mary's ascension to the throne in 1553 - likely during the latter half of King Henry VIII's reign, when England was embroiled in a bitter war with both Scotland and France.

Indeed, it is easy to imagine the gusto that must have been felt by English troops as they rushed into battle, armed with this fully comprehensible, and supremely aggressive anthem freshly ingrained in their minds.

The Gaude Gloriosa Dei Mater is set to premiere in London, both under its correct authorship, and in the English tongue for next month’s Holy Week (from Palm Sunday on the 9th to Holy Saturday on the 15th). The Alamire choir (of which Skinner is director) is slated to perform.  Click here for more details.

Listen below to Tallis' Gaude Gloriosa Dei Mater, in it's original Latin form:



Did You Know?

No one really knows with any certainty what Thomas Tallis looked like - the famous engraving of the composer (left) dates from the mid-18th century, and is nothing more than the product of one artists' perception (i.e. imagination). There are no official portraits of the composer that survive.

 
Learn more: 
  • article (with images of manuscript) at the Telegraph 
  • David Skinner's published findings, Aug 2016 at Oxford Academic (*membership/purchase)

-Rose.

Saturday, 17 November 2018

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.

Thursday, 11 February 2016

THE TUDOR DYNASTY & THE MUSIC OF THE CHAPEL ROYAL IN 16th CENTURY ENGLAND

The exquisite vaulted ceiling and one of the many frescoes of the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court Palace


In a followup to Tuesday's post on the historic Latin Vespers Service at the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court Palace, this post will discuss what the press who reported on the monumental occasion missed.

If you found yourself clicking on the external links provided, or simply perused other news articles in print or on the web, you may have noticed an not-altogether insignificant discrepancy in the dates provided in regards to the beginning of the reformation under Henry VIII (which, as stated in Tuesday's post here on unravelingmusicalmyths.blogspot.ca began in 1534) and the last Latin Service performed at the Palace's Chapel Royal,  documented by the press as "450 years ago... in the 1550's": 

 in regards to the Latin Mass ultimus, the reference is made to the King Henry VIII and the "mid-16th century"- but the reality is, the patriarch Tudor was already dead by 1547! According to the given timeframe of "450 years ago" (from today), the 'last Latin Service' would have been employed in the year 1566 - making Henry almost a full two decades into his grave - and three successive monarchs Tudor in.

So what exactly happened to music at the Chapel Royal, and to Cathedrals and Churches across England in the 32 year time span since Henry VIII initiated reformation proceedings with the issue of Act of Supremacy in November of 1534?

Read below to find out!


The boy-king Edward VI, the only
legitimate son of
Henry VIII and his third wife, Queen
Jane Seymour, who died in less than two weeks of
Edward's birth due to post-natal complications.
Half-brother to Mary I and Elizabeth I.
KING EDWARD VI (Reigned: 28 January 1547 – 6 July 1553):

Six months into the reign of the nine-year old newly crowned King of England, the incorrigible Edward VI, under the influence of Lord Edward Seymour, 1st Duke of Somerset and the Archbishop Thomas Cranmer (the same Archbishop who aided Henry VIII in his annulment from his Queen, Catherine of Aragon and his subsequent break from Rome), both Protestants like the boy-king, would orchestrate a series of ‘royal visitations’ at the countries’ major Cathedrals (including Winchester, York, Canterbury, and Windsor) with the explicit intent to ensure ‘Popish Rituals’ were abolished. Although the minutiae of details regarding who would be made allowed to participate in the act of singing the mass and by what frequency it would be permitted varied according to church, an edict issued by the Archbishop Cranmer at Lincoln Cathedral in 1548 made the changes to both language employed and the use of ornate polyphony within the music itself unmistakably transparent. In the demand, Cranmer (and effectively, the Monarch) decreed that “the choir shall henceforth sing or say no anthems of our Lady or other saints, but only of our Lord, and them not in Latin; but choosing out the best and most sounding to Christian Religion they shall turn the same into English, setting thereunto a plain and distinct note, for every syllable one: they shall sing them and none other.”

The Chapel Royal, the reigning Monarch’s personal Church (and establishment of musicians) at court, had already introduced the first English form of the compline (the evening service) three months prior. This is of interest to note, as it was one of the first precursors of what was to become of liturgical services across the nation. The Chapel Royal, under it’s Sovereign held the distinction of immunity from the actions of reformists. Nonetheless, the conversion from Latin to English at the Chapel set a precedent for the Church of England and all major Cathedrals across the nation.[1] Within five months of the first compline at the Chapel Royal in May of 1547, the Mass Ordinary was sung entirely in English at Westminster Abbey in London.

Two years later, the Act of Uniformity would declare the English-language “Book of Common Prayer” as the ‘dictation of God’ to be used in the Church in replacement of the Latin Service books. By the time the second edition was issued, revised under the hand of the Archbishop Cranmer, music itself in regard to liturgical services was reduced to a diminutive role, considered by the ‘church’ as an unnecessary distraction, and as a result, received scant mention. As the new King, the Archbishop and members of Edward's Regency Council began whitewashing Cathedrals, stripping them of ‘Popish iconography’ - including the organs used for music - so suffered the choirs, and their choir books, which were systematically sold, destroyed and burnt.


Queen Mary I, daughter of Henry VIII & the
annulled ex-Queen Catherine of Aragon; half-sister to
Edward VI & Elizabeth I.
QUEEN MARY I: “BLOODY MARY” (Reigned: July 1553 –17 November 1558)

Edward's whitewashing and dissolution of Services according to the Latin Rite would briefly change under his successor and half sister Mary I, whose stalwart dedication to Catholicism and her invasive measures to restore it as the religion of England and it's peoples earned her the moniker “Bloody Mary” as she systematically rooted out present and ex-conspirators, enemies of Catholicism, potential threats to the throne (this period included the sad tale of Lady Jane Grey, the sixteen year-old "Nine Day Queen” – a sobriquet earned upon her execution at the command of Mary in 1554) and protestants alike for public burnings-at-the-stake. Portions of the Acts of Uniformity were overturned, organs were restored to their Cathedrals and icons returned - and by 1557, around 13 Latin Service books, hoarded in secret by citizens during the Protestant reign of Edward VI - suddenly came to light under the ‘protection’ of the Catholic Queen Mary. 

For roughly five years, Latin Order was restored, and composers were encouraged to revert to the old style of elaborate and ornate polyphony. Such works of note to come from this period were indeed composed by - and for - members of the Chapel Royal, including "Videte Miraculum"[2] and "Gaude Gloriosa"[3] by Thomas Tallis (a staple at the Tudor court, and ‘non reformed Catholic’, who would serve four Tudor Monarchs – Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary I and Elizabeth I, respectively) and the "Cantate Mass"[4] by composer John Sheppard.

In fact, it has been written that immediately upon a thrice-echoed proclamation of “God Save the Queen!” (shouted in earnest by awaiting crowds after the announcement of Mary’s ascension to the English throne was made - at Cheapside Cross by the Lord Pembroke in July of 1553) overjoyed civilians celebrated with a ringing of bells and festivities that lasted through the evening and into the following day. They also celebrated in song: as Pembroke and various Lords of the Council walked in state to St. Paul’s Cathedral, the building’s choir was already preparing to sing a Te Deum Laudamus in honor of the Queen. Formerly stowed organs were dusted off and rolled out to accompany the music: England had not heard it’s like for nearly six whitewashed years of Edward’s reign and imposed reformations.

Such (Latin) musical festivities appear to have been celebrated nation-wide: there are multiple documented accounts of public organ playing, bell ringing and singing well up until Mary’s procession. There is even evidence English composer William Mundy’s six voice Vox patris caelestis was penned for the Queen’s pre-coronation procession, or perhaps even for the coronation itself.

Learn about Mundy’s possible connection with Queen Mary at Oxford Academic.





Queen Elizabeth I, daughter of Henry VIII &
executed ex-Queen Anne Boleyn; half-sister to
Edward VI & Mary I.
QUEEN ELIZABETH I: “GLORIANA; THE VIRGIN QUEEN” (Reigned: 17 November 1558 – 24 March 1603)

The great neutralist Elizabeth I, half-sister to Edward VI and Mary I and daughter of Henry VIII and his second wife, ex-Queen Anne Boleyn (the seductive spark that fueled the reformation’s fire under the King) herself employed Latin Services at the Chapel Royal and in her own private Services at the beginning of her reign. Under the new Acts of Uniformity, issued by Elizabeth in 1559, reformist theology and tradition would also be included into the doctrine: lessons and readings from the gospel were to be in English, and some of the Latin Rites would be suppressed - including the Elevation of the Host - in an attempt to placate Protestant zealots. This combination of half-measures, of course, did not sit well with extremists: in Easter of 1559, reformist John Jewel, who had witnessed  Elizabeth attending a Latin Mass at the Chapel Royal rebuked the Queen, declaring the “masses and all the follies and abominations of Popery [were] everywhere sanctioned by the authority of the laws.”

Elizabeth’s seemingly relaxed and neutral stance on religion was not to be taken at face value. The so-called "Virgin Queen" was notorious for her fickle indecisiveness and famously maddening ability to ride the fence on almost all major decisions affecting the State. She would, over the course of her 45 year reign on the throne of England, execute more Catholics than the Protestants killed by her late half-sister Bloody Mary and the victims of the Spanish inquisition combined. 


Footnotes:
[1]This transition, however, did not happen overnight, but rather gradually. There is some evidence that suggests the composition of additional church music in the Latin tongue during this period, including the works of composer Christopher Tye (the Quaesumus Omnipotens and Domine Deus Coelestis, among others).

In fact, for the two year span between Edward’s coronation and the indoctrination of the first edition of the English Prayer Book in 1549, it is believed most of the attendees to church would have experienced worship according to the Latin rite, using recycled music as compositions in the official Roman tongue began to phase out.

It was, naturally, at the Chapel Royal under King Edward VI that experimentation with English liturgy first occurred, eventually branching out across English churches and cathedrals at St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey, both of which performed the mass ordinary entirely in the native English tongue in suit of the Kings establishment at the Chapel Royal.

A deeper look into the minutiae of the Act of Uniformity issued in 1549 reflects a gradual transition from Latin liturgy into English:

“it shall be lawful to any man that understandeth the Greek, Latin and Hebrew tongue, or other strange tongue, to say and have the said prayers heretofore specified, of Matins and Evensong in Latin, or any other such tongue, saying the same privately, as they do understand…though it be appointed in the afore-written preface that all things shall be read and sung in church in the English tongue…yet it is not meant but when men say Matins and Evensong privately, they may say the same in any language that they themselves do understand…”

MUSIC IN THE REIGN OF MARY I:

Latin works from the Composers Thomas Tallis: Videte Miraculum[2] & Gaude Gloriosa;[3] and John Sheppard: Missa Cantate[4]

 
         Thomas Tallis, Videte Miraculum             Thomas Tallis, Gaude Gloriosa                 John Sheppard, Missa Cantate

-Rose.

Wednesday, 26 April 2017

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. 

Tuesday, 9 February 2016

MAKING HISTORY: FEBRUARY 9 2016 - LATINUM EXQUISITUS


King Henry VIII of England

Musicologists, Tudor Enthusiasts and Theologians! Mark Tuesday February 9, 2016 in your calendar of awesome historical events!

Today, at Hampton Court Palace, for the first time in almost 450 years, a small number of very lucky attendees (some 350, who applied via ballot) at the Palace’s Chapel Royal heard sung the first Catholic Service at the royal chapel (according to the Latin Rite of the Catholic Church, and as such performed largely in the Latin tongue), since it’s turbulent fallout following King Henry VIII’s infamous break from Rome in 1534 and it’s fickle presence (and absence) throughout the reigns of his children, the future monarchs Edward VI (a Protestant), Mary I (unshakably Catholic), and Elizabeth I (the last of the Tudor dynasty, whose neutral approach to religion and it’s music we have recently discussed here on unravelingmusicalmyths.blogspot.ca).

The Chapel Royal at Hampton Court Palace.
According to the Chapel Royal’s official press release in January 2016, the service of Vespers was slated to be “celebrated by His Eminence Cardinal Vincent Nichols…includ[ing] a sermon from… the Bishop of London…” in “an unprecedented coming together of Catholic and Anglican churches on... a historically important site."

This monumental occasion was formed to mark the 500th anniversary of the Hampton Court Palace, and to help bring awareness to the upcoming half-millenium mark since the onset of the Reformation.

The historic event also featured an informative discussion (prior to the service) in The Great Hall  that covered the role and absence of Catholic Services as it relates to the Monarchy during the era of the Tudors right through to the modern age.

WHAT WAS SUNG:

music included works from the Composers Thomas Tallis: Magnificat; William Cornysh: Salve Regina; and John Taverner: "Leroy" Kyrie

 
              Thomas Tallis, Magnificat                   William Cornysh, Salve Regina                John Taverner, “Leroy” Kyrie


Read more (external links):

-Rose.

Saturday, 20 February 2016

THAT SWEETLY DIABOLICAL LUTE

In honor of the 390th anniversary of renowned lutenist and composer John Dowland, who left this musical, this earthly sphere on this 20th day of February in 1626[1], unravlingmusicalmyths.blogspot.ca takes a look back at that delicate sounding, calm inducing instrument known as the lute and it’s otherwise deranged and diabolical practitioners (and those who were disenchanted by them) of the famed precursor to the modern guitar by re-examining the fates of four of the lute’s most infamous historical figures.
 

   
1. JOHN DOWLAND 

John Dowland and his lute.
Dowland is often referred to as an Elizabethan composer. In reality, this British lutenist[2] never, in fact, secured the patronage or a post under the 16th century Queen (although he did dedicate two compositions, in the form of galliards, to her – one of which had been recycled from a previous dedicatee – posthumously). It’s not that Dowland didn’t try: upon arriving in England from a four-year aristocratic post in France in 1594, the hopeful lutenist arrived in the British Isle fully expecting to win Elizabeth’s favor and secure for himself a post with the ‘Virgin Queen’. He was flatly denied the position. England in the late 16th century was at the height of a religious unrest and, while the Queen herself attempted to present to her citizens (to whom she declared herself “wed”) the exterior façade of neutrality within the confines of England’s’ tumultuous secular divide, her administers and advisors remained largely Protestant. Dowland naturally attributed his rejection at Court to have been the direct result of his recent conversion in France to Roman Catholicism (there could be more at play here, however – court composer and member of the Chapel Royal – over the course of four monarchs Tudor – Thomas Tallis,was an open and indefatigable “unreformed Catholic”. He was also, as we have seen in my recent posts on the 16th century composer, a favorite of the Queen).

Whatever the reason(s) for Dowland’s rejection, rejoicings of the undeniable talent of the lutenist-composer reached beyond the religious divide and even beyond borders: the ever-hopeful Dowland published in England in 1597 the first ever publication of English lute songs, “The First Booke of Songes or Ayres of Foure Partes with Tableture for the Lute” which earned him high praise from both members of aristocracy and 16th century intelligentsia. Even members of royalty took notice: at some point after the year 1598, Dowland moved to the Danish Court of Christian IV of Denmark, where the melophilic King lavished the now infamous composer with the then-grand annual salary of 500 daler – far more than the going rate for the position, making the lutenist one of the Courts highest paid servants (this was still the 16th century, where musicians were considered not as idols, but as common workers – making the donation of largesse bestowed upon the composer even more impressive).


An excerpt from Dowland's "First Booke of Songes or Ayres of Foure Partes with Tableture for the Lute"

Dowland continued, in spite of the generosity of the Danish King, to publish his works in England in the hopes he could garner the interest of the Queen. His life-long wish to secure for himself a placement at the English court was not achieved until the year 1612, after a 6 year otherwise uneventful stay back in the Scepter'd Isle following his dismissal at the Danish Court due to his over-extended stays in the country whilst on publishing duty. It would not be under Elizabeth that Dowland would compose his future works – she was already nine years into the grave – instead, he  was appointed one of the lutenists to the Father of the Union of the Crowns that would eventually see England and Scotland merge into Great Britain – the King James I (son to the fateful queen in our next story). 

In a conclusion most peculiar to a life chasing patronage at the English Court, Dowland would produce very few compositions during his lifelong post under James I.



 2. DAVID RIZZIO

The Murder of David Rizzio

Across England’s border, in its frequently warring counterpart of Scotland, a diminutive Italian had infiltrated the Royal Stuart Court (and, allegedly – but likely falsely – it’s Queen, Mary Stuart, the so-called “Queen of Scots”). Rizzio was first brought to the attention of the hapless Queen as a singer most excellent (he sung as a bass) through a carefully orchestrated set of meetings with Mary’s own set of musicians, whom she had brought over from her exile in France following the death of her husband, King François II of an abscessed ear and the seizing of power by the indomitable ex-queen Catherine de’ Medici, Mary’s former mother-in-law.

Mary’s time in Scotland, where she had been rightful Queen since her succession at six days old following the death of her father King James V was never prosperous, and had been doomed from the beginning: her father, upon finding out the birth of his child and successor to the crown of Scotland was but a lowly girl, on his deathbed, foretold the disaster to come, protesting "It cam wi' a lass and it will gang wi' a lass!" (this was repeated in even more disparaging tones by protestant leader John Knox immediately upon the queens arrival at the shoreline of Scotland, where he had traveled through the night to greet her with his disapproving orations.

Unlike England to the South, Scotland, although possessing a monarch, was in fact ruled by rivaling noble factions, who it seemed were always engaged in civil war.

Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots
By the time Mary had arrived back in Scotland, she had already experienced attacks on her life and livelihood by the former English King Henry VIII, who had orchestrated a devious plan to secure for his only legitimate son Edward VI, a marriage with the young Queen. Mary was to be removed from Scotland at once and brought to England to learn it’s ways and it’s customs before reaching marriageable age. There was nothing romantic about this "deal” – Henry’s entire objective was to secure hegemony over the North through a marital union between England and Scotland – creating a forced ally in his neighbor, and in turn removing it from the grips of it’s friendly relationship with France (with whom England was frequently engaged in battle). By wedding a royal Scot to a future English King, Henry would effectively secure the border between both nations from invading enemy troops from "L’hexagone." Mary of Guise, mother to the Queen of Scotland had second thoughts, and after a violent series of attacks on the Heathered Isle by the King, known as the rough-wooing - where orders were to destroy, to kill and eventually to kidnap the young queen - was forced to appeal to France, begging the French King, Henri II exile for the little royal and for the countries’ protection – to which Henri unreluctantly obliged (at a cost - Mary would have to marry Henri’s first son, the sickly dauphin François).

By the time Mary had returned to Scotland thirteen years later at the age of eighteen, she found her country, formally Roman Catholic, had begun to go the way of the English, with many of it’s citizens converting to the protestant faith.

It was to this turmoil the person and character of Mary was related, and to this turmoil that she returned to her motherland. It was of little surprise when Mary appointed Rizzio as Queen's secretary for relations with France - a diplomatic and administrative post extremely close to the crown - the Scottish populous found themselves in an outrage. Most outraged of them all was the narcissistic (and probably sadistic) husband to the Queen of Scots, Lord Darnley – whose jealousy and source of vitriol went beyond Rizzio interfering with matters of state. Seeking to find any legitimate reason to find the musician and his wife guilty of a treasonous offense in order to secure for himself the throne of Scotland, a close circle of Darnley’s political cohorts convinced the indignant King consort of an illicit affair occurring between Rizzio and his Queen, citing the many late nights spent in her chambers serenading the Queen with music performed on his trusty lute, which he could often be heard playing and seen carrying about the court.

It was those late night jam sessions on the lute and an outrageous accusation of impregnation of the Queen by Rizzio that would cause the unfortunate musician to meet his early – and excessively violent – end.

Lord Henry Darnley and Mary Queen of Scots
On the evening of March 9th, 1566, whilst dining alongside Mary and several intimate guests of the Queen in her private dining room at the palace of Holyroodhouse, Darnley and his group of rebels stormed into the tiny supper chamber, turning up the table in the process of rushing the terrified lutenist, who instinctively ran to hide behind the Queen’s skirts. Mary begged for leniency, but was both rebuffed and overpowered by the rebels.

Darnley and his men seized the diminutive Italian, began to stab him in count reported to be as high as 56 wounds inflicted by both sword and knife, before throwing him down a flight of stairs - possibly still alive and dying from his many fatal wounds - and stripping him nude of both jewelry and clothing for added humiliating measure.

Darnley would get his just desserts for the crime – It is believed Mary and alleged future lover Lord Bothwell orchestrated a nearly aborted coup d’état to end the king’s life – first by attempting to blow him up, finally by strangulation as the murderous prince fled his temporary residence in only his nightshift.  



3. THE "FROTTOLE INTABULATE DA SONARE ORGANI LIBRO PRIMO"

Fans of composer and music publisher Andrea Antico may be familiar with this rather biting woodcut of a musician at the keyboard (believed to be Antico himself), the Medici coat of arms before him in place of a score (Pope Leo X famously supported Antico’s printing ventures, even granting the composer the exclusive right to print organ tablature – see below the table of contents from Antico’s Liber Quindecim Missarum of 1516 – the first ever piece of sacred music published in Rome). 



Situated in the middle of the engraving is the figure of a woman, pointing to what appears to be a monkey playing a lute. The feminine figure is holding up a score for all to see. Musical scholars of this period translate the woman and the monkey as a rather insulting jab at the composer Ottaviano Petrucci, a frequent rival and competitor of Antico who was only made allowed to publish polyphonic music for the comparatively lowly instrument of the lute after his request to the Pope for the "privilege" (equivalent to the modern "copyright") to be the exclusive printer of polyphony was granted, minus the rights to the keyboard. 

It seems Petrucci's nemesis liked to rub salt in the wound!

4. NERO & HIS FIDDLE

“Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,

Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn.”



 
-Henry VI, Shakespeare


I will close this post with a little myth-busting. Hard pressed is any lover of history or music to find any scholar or layman ignorant of the plight of Rome and it’s nefarious ruler Nero, who was said to have arrogantly played his fiddle while Rome burned. 



Perhaps this perception came from the former Emperor’s macabre playboy lifestyle that involved immense psychological and physical cruelty to both man and animal, kin and commoner.

The common expression “Nero fiddled while Rome burned" is highly problematic, and at best, one of mere suggestion popularized by the Roman historian Tacitus – who himself admitted, the story of Nero and his infamous fiddle was only but a rumor. One of the major issues with the legend is the presence – or more accurately the absence – of the fiddle. At the time of Nero, the fiddle (later referred to as the lute) did not yet exist! In fact, the class of instruments to which the ‘fiddle’ belongs, the viol class – would not be developed until the 11th century AD. There did exist, however, a precursor to the fiddle, or lute – a four-to-seven stringed instrument known as the cithara. It is also the subject of rumor that Nero enjoyed partaking in playing this instrument, however later biographers of the controversial Emperor would add even more doubt to the fiddle story when they placed the ruler at his villa, some 35 miles outside of Rome – at Antium, at the onset of the blaze. 




And you thought the lute delicate?



Footnotes:
[1]The actual date of Dowland's death is uncertain, however he was buried on February 20th in the year 1626.
[2]Dowland may not even have been English: later biographers would place his origin of birth in Dublin, making him (possibly) Irish.

-Rose.